Saint Bruce

Yesterday a good number of us met to remember and celebrate the life of our friend Rev Bruce Upperton who died a month ago. Friends and family told stories about Bruce… his work in the RAF and as a Christian minister, his family, his many hobbies…

Great statements of his Christian faith were included. We sung that great old Irish hymn that starts ‘Be thou my vision O Lord of my heart, Nought be all else to me save that thou art…’  We prayed ‘The Lord’s Prayer’ that was precious to Bruce.

We heard words of hope about heaven: ‘Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth… God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them… God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.’

I’ve known Bruce for many years. I shall remember Bruce’s idiosyncrasies, his sense of humour, his singlemindedness, his faith that was always non-conformist – often very non-conformist… not conforming was part of the frustration, the irritation, yet the joy that was Bruce.

Bruce was a man who cared for the disadvantaged. In a quiet, often unassuming way, he got involved in the lives of those in need, giving time, efforts, advice, hospitality and money. His generosity – often unseen and always persistent, went above and beyond the limits of others.

I came home and read about Hannah Spiers, an Anglican sister in a Roman Catholic Eccumenical community. She writes about Christian saints:

‘Saints are not perfect people who live in such a way as to set an unattainable bar for those who follow; they are ordinary people who serve an extraordinary God in all their beauty and brokenness, mistakes and successes, personal quirkiness and grace. How they died is not the question as much as why they lived.’

That’s Bruce. Mister Bruce… Reverend Bruce… Saint Bruce.