grief

To the man I give grand respect…

Monday morning, a professor who taught at Point Loma Nazarene University passed away.  His name was Dr. Dan Nelson.  Dr. Dan Nelson was in charge of the concert band, jazz band, and taught several classes of music.  He was forced to leave due to his health condition:  for the longest time, he was struggling with Parkinsons disease.  The summer of retiring, he found out he also had Lou Gehrig’s disease on top of that.

I didn’t know him too well.  The year I entered PLNU was his last year and hardest to teach.  Nevertheless, three classes with the man was… I don’t even know how to describe it.  I learned a lot from him—that’s definite.  Having his class at 7:30 in the morning my first semester of college as a music major was, in my opinion, vital.  He helped form and humble myself and my understanding of what music is.  Instead of teaching what music is, he let the students ask the questions.  It’s one thing to play music.  It’s one thing to study the theory of music.  It’s one thing to comprehend the history of music.  But if we don’t understand what music is to begin with—ask why we are taking it in the first place—then it bears no meaning whatsoever.  —and Dan provoked those questions.  He made sure that we understood that music isn’t just another topic or another field of study.  It’s an artform; an aspect of understanding life.

Monday morning was hard on everyone who knew him.  I remember going to chapel that day, seeing many red eyes in the rows around me.  My friend Abe was crying.  Rachel was crying.  I was crying.  I feel like Dan was closest person I knew who died—even though we weren’t all that close. 
Nevertheless, it was difficult.  His niece definitely had it the hardest.  Part of it what stung was the indifference that was around me.  Of course, not everyone on campus knew Dan—probably only a small portion—but it just didnt seem to be right that people were joking around and being happy at such a mournful day.

But then I wondered.  Why is it that we’re grieving?  Are we grieving for Dan?  Are we sad that Dan is dead, or are we sad that Dan is not with us?  Are we sad for us that he is dead?  Because in all honesty, Dan is in a much better state than he was before.  Now, I don’t know without a shadow of a doubt if there is a Heaven or not.  I don’t believe anyone can say they know without a shadow of a doubt.  Granted, I do believe that there is something much better for us at the end, but even for those who do not:  Dan is no longer in pain.  In truth, we should be happy for him, for he is home.  As someone said, Dan has probably set up his own band up there.
While that is so, I do not diminish the idea of grieving.  I grieve, and it is good that his family grieves.  Dostoyevsky said that grieving is the greatest gift that God gave us, for it allows us the choice to sympathise for our neighbors.  But to question why we grieve helps us put things in a better light.  We do grieve that he is gone.  We do grieve that his inspiration is not with us.  But it is important to understand that while we grieve, we understand and can rejoice afterwards that Dan is doing more than alright.

Dr. Dan Nelson was a great man.  As stated earlier, he was inspirational to his students.  Not only that, but in the midst of his hardest times physically, he was able to establish an orphanage in Rwanda.  Now, to establish an orphanage in that area is difficult enough, but in his condition?
He was truly an ebenezer of what God can do in one’s life.  Any one of our lives, God can do great things, as long as we step outside ourselves and grab at what God is offering.

Dr. Dan:  you’ve been great.  You will be missed.

‎”Don’t take time for granted. Be a part of something bigger than yourself.” -Dan Nelson

Advertisement