Reflections On David Rowbotham’s Life Amongst Us
ROMANS 10:14-17
The preacher also has to have been a mountain climber.
That’s what we learn from our reading.
He must have known in his life both the sense of struggle and the vision of glory.
Not sure if you’re on the right path or exactly where the next footing is.
Puffing up a step gradient and stumbling on a rock.
But also to have stood and marvelled at the view and been inspired by it and to hear in the silence, the still, small voice of God.
It was as someone who brought us the Good News that David will be remembered.
It was with his blue scarf round his neck or with his reader badge on his sweater that David found sweet fulfilment.
But like a true Gospel proclaimer, we will have learnt as much from David when he was up in the pulpit as when he was sorting out the microphones, doing battle with the roadside notice board or just saying “how are you and how are your family”
How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who preach Good News.
Whose faith is earthed in reality and not piety.
Who knows about the steep climbs in life as much as glimpses of glory.
David was a man content in his own company.
I phoned him when he had been in hospital to see if he would like Home Communion.
I was alarmed that he did not answer the phone.
He rang me back on his mobile “I’m on the train” he said “ It was such a lovely afternoon, I thought I’d take myself off to the coast and I’ve had a glorious, glorious time”
Yet David was a man amongst people too.
Sociable, friendly, responsible – he loved good camaraderie.
Amongst the readers he trained with, the fellow pilgrims to Lindisfarne.
Trips to France and Germany and more locally on a Friday morning.
He saw the goodness in other people so readily whilst never really giving himself the rating he deserved. He valued friendship and was deeply touched that people should go out of their way for him.
“Thank you for including me” he said on many occasions “Its a privilege to be involved”
I don’t think David found Reader ministry easy.
He would labour long and hard over each homily he gave.
He would take time over the prayers.
He would always be wondering whether he had done the best he could.
He had received the wise advice, not from me, that sermons should begin with maximum impact and I loved the way he would start in the pulpit with some great exclamation
“Will you put that down, I’ve told you more than once” said the Mother to her five year old son.
I loved the way that if you gave David some inadequate word of advice – he would always begin his reply with “Thank you”
I loved the way he would start off our prayer time in the Lady Chapel by saying “Welcome to Morning Prayer” as if a cast of thousands were listening in on a radio station.
I appreciated the way that if you were struggling with something, like wiring up the microphones, he’d say “I’ll do that”.
His seat remains empty at our ministry team and staff meetings and we miss the way he was always positive, creative and supportive.
David never sought to be a headline maker. He never wanted to achieve greatness or renown. There was a contentment in him, that this was the level and this was the place where he might abide happily for years and we had hoped so too.
We are celebrating the life of a man who would turn his hand to anything within reason.
Leaflet deliverer in Sylvan Way, the steepest road in the parish.
BBQ chef and tower ladder climber. Open church organiser and magazine editor. Choir member, home group leader, spiritual director. Teacher , healer and intercessor. Tea maker and furniture mover.
A recharger of our dying batteries – physical and spiritual.
There were things in life that did used to worry David and I think that centred on whether he was really good enough or not.
But towards the very end there was a calm assurance about him in three areas:
That he knew he was in the hands of God and therefore had nothing to fear
That he knew he was surrounded by excellent medical care and the prayerful support of friends
That he knew that you Sarah were going to be loved and cared for.
The last time I saw David I asked him if there was anything he was afraid of.
There was a pause and then he raised his finger
“I’m due to take Communion to Fir Croft on Wednesday, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to get there”
That was just typical.
That’s why we all miss him so much.
How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who preach Good News.
The climb has been steep for David in places – but the view is extraordinary now.
In his living and in his dying – David remains a bringer of Good News.
Sent by God to us, now returned home again, with all our love for him ringing in the ears of his maker.