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Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. (vv. 3-5)


For four years I went to college with a gentle giant named Al Webster. By external standards, he was not a handsome guy; he had a blond Afro and thick, Coke-bottle glasses. But Al's soul is the most beautiful that I have ever known. I call Al a giant because he stood about six-feet-one-inch tall, and his shoulders were as broad as a doorway. Al would often give his friends an affectionate high-five that would send pain tingling down the arm. The stinging could last a week. Whenever we would comment on how big Al was, he would quietly remind us that he was the runt of his family. I was the runt of mine too, but I wasn't close to Al's size. Being a runt is relative.

Over the years I kept in touch with Al. I moved away to Fort Worth to attend seminary. Big Al helped my wife and me make the four-hour move. Later, Al would just drop in. It seemed one of his larger brothers lived in a Fort Worth suburb. We never knew when Al would call and say, "I'll be over in ten minutes."

In college Al majored in religion, but his hobby was working with computers. After college, he turned his hobby into a career working as a part-time computer/Internet consultant. He pretty much lived hand-to-mouth. His real dream was to preserve the Cherokee language by developing a Cherokee talking dictionary. The plan was to record each Cherokee word on computer so that younger Cherokees could hear it with the touch of a button. I have to admit when he first told me of his plan, I didn't think it made much sense. First of all, he wasn't Cherokee or even Native American for that matter. Secondly, I couldn't see that it was profitable.

However, Al was successful with his Cherokee talking dictionary. He even started working with other tribes - Creek, Choctaw, and Osage. He developed a computer software package with all 85 characters of the Cherokee language. The software enabled the Cherokee to publish in their own language. His system became the standard for writing Cherokee. Another computer program he developed on Native American languages is in the Smithsonian Institute. Never stand in the way of a dreamer.

But that didn't matter to Al. His concern for the project wasn't financial. Al was a servant, and people were more important than money. Al was known to literally give away the coat off his back and spend his last dollar on food for a vagabond. Once Al was visiting a Native American school for the purpose of selling his software. The teacher was impressed, but she wasn't interested in the software. The school couldn't afford a computer, let alone the software. So Al left empty handed. Literally. He gave them his Macintosh Power Book. When asked about it, he said, "They needed it more than I did." With Al's love of computers, he might as well have given away his brain or a kidney.

Because people came first with Al, he had a habit of being tardy -- if someone needed help, he would stop no matter what. All his friends referred to his tardiness as "Al time." If you were meeting Al, you would tell him the appointment was an hour earlier so he would actually show up on time. But when he did arrive, he would pass on the story of the person he stopped to help. This was usually a new acquaintance -- "new" meaning he had just met them when he helped them. Talk about your Good Samaritan.

A few years ago, I attended our annual conference meeting in Tulsa. Al attended the closing worship service with me. At the conclusion of the service around 9 p.m., I went to the parking lot and discovered that I had a flat tire on my truck. I stood distraught in the dark still wearing my suit, white shirt, and dress shoes. Al insisted on changing the flat tire because he was wearing more casual clothes. Later, it hit me that I had contributed to "Al time." I wondered what I made him late for that night.

As you might have noticed, I speak of Al in the past tense. I do because Al passed away August 15, 1997, at the age of 31. He was killed when his Nissan truck went under the trailer of an 18-wheeler. No one knows why for sure, but Al failed to stop at a highway intersection. Since he was headed west and it was 7:15 p.m., some suspect the sun blinded him. Al's death was tragic, but in a beautiful twist of fate, he died living his dream. The fatality occurred as Al was driving home after meeting with Leaford Bearskin, chief of the Wyandottes, to preserve his language on computer.

I write this not as a eulogy, but as a testimony. Al was definitely God's handiwork. So many people didn't have the opportunity to know this low-key Christ-like man. Al was written about in The Smithsonian because of his efforts with the Cherokee talking dictionary, but that would only tell such a small part of the story of this gentle giant. The Smithsonian wouldn't tell of Al's compassion and faith.

A homeless Cherokee man once stopped in Al's church and interrupted a men's meeting. The men helped the homeless man, and then he left. At some point, they noticed Al was no longer there. They thought he had gone home, but as they were leaving, they found him outside the church with the homeless man. Al was softly singing the Lord's Prayer in Cherokee with the man. Al was not content just to feed the man's stomach. He also wanted to feed his soul.

As I stood at the funeral home seeing the body of my good friend lying in a casket, I cried. I didn't cry because he died so young. With Al's strong faith, he was happy in heaven. I didn't cry because I lost a good friend. Our geographical distance allowed us to see each other only a couple times a year. I cried because the world lost a great servant.

In the days following his funeral, I pledged to tell Al's story. Al was a man of great faith who was generous with his time, talent, and material things. The way he lived his life is a lesson in love, selflessness, and compassion. These are subjects we often flunk in a me-first world. I struggled to learn all Al had to teach me about compassionate faith and servanthood. By the grace of God, I am still learning from the life of Al Webster. Hopefully, you are learning from him as well.