Legacy

I really had no idea what I was doing when I enrolled in Biblical Hebrew in college. I only knew that it fulfilled the foreign language requirement and it wasn’t Spanish or Greek. Everyone at my evangelical university took Spanish or Greek and the misfits took Hebrew. And I wanted to be with the misfits.

I fell deeply in love with Hebrew. The language has a depth and richness unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. It unlocked a chamber of my soul that I wasn’t even aware I possessed. My heart pulsed with a fiery affection for the GOD and stories of the Old Testament, brought to life by the beauty of this language.

Having classes taught by old(er), white men was par for the course, especially in religion courses. Looking back I really hate that, but at the time, it’s just how it was. Dr. Hunt was no different, except that he absolutely was.

Dr. Hunt is the steadiest, gentlest, and kindest man I have ever known. His pale blue eyes hold a sprightly warmth that could immediately calm my anxious and angry heart, which raged like a forest fire for most of my 20s. His voice was soft but trustworthy, like a well-loved chair that swallows you in comfort but supports your fullness. His knowledge alone was enough to command respect in the classroom, but his wisdom and nurturing soul seared him into my consciousness long after the classroom doors closed. In his classroom I learned that my ferocity is sacred, too.

My evangelical journey is crowded with the voices who scream similar messages: “You’re too opinionated” “You’re wrong” “You can’t be or do ______ because you’re a woman” “You’re not called to do this work”. They drone on and on, clamoring for attention. But, under this clattering din are the steady whispers of voices who proclaim “You are enough” “You are good” “You can do and be ______” “God has called you to do this work”. When I look back on this journey, there is a sea of faces, with each face shouting or whispering its own message. Dr. Hunt’s pale blue eyes and kind countenance, full of compassion and care, shine brightly in the midst.

Dr. Hunt taught (teaches) me to approach my learning and my life with delight and integrity. He reminds me, 11 years later, to ask questions with reckless abandon and to mine the depths until the questioning is satiated, until a new question rises to take its place, and to never , ever take anyone’s word for it — no matter who they (think they) are or what “it” is.

I don’t remember very much Hebrew anymore, but Dr. Hunt taught me so much more than the rules of language. Even as much as my outward religious life has changed over 11 years, Dr. Hunt has remained. The legacy of who he is as a person far outlives the work he taught.