It is with deep sadness, tempered by faith and hope in the risen Christ, that I announce the death of my dear friend, mentor, and colleague, Professor Hans G. Spalteholz. After a brief illness, he died very peacefully last night in his living room. He was 92 years old.
I am grateful that I was able to speak with him last weekend before he had to be more heavily sedated during this past week. I am also grateful that his suffering has now ended and that he has entered that perfect peace prepared and granted by the risen and glorified Christ.
I will say more about him at his memorial service, but these are a few thoughts that come to mind this morning: Professor Spalteholz taught me to love the Holy Scriptures, to wrestle with them for the sake of faithful interpretation, and to apply them to the world’s deep needs and hurts. He taught me the distinction between law and gospel by unpacking the theology of the Lutheran Confessions. His love of books and of learning and of the German language rubbed off on me. He pointed me the way to the University of Chicago, and he later carefully proofread my doctoral dissertation. He modeled a truly ecumenical approach to the question of theological truth. He and Professor Richard Reinisch made room for me to join the faculty of Concordia University, Portland. In so many ways, the death of Hans marks the end of an era. He and others in his generation were among the best and brightest that the Missouri Synod educational system ever produced.
Since the fall of 1980, down through these many decades, Hans became a second father to me. At various times of crisis he was a spiritual counselor (serving multiple times as a "paraclete" when I was facing one charge or another in the LCMS). More importantly, he became the most influential and significant theological conversation partner in my life. For more than two decades we worked very closely together on several book projects, including the first two volumes of our translation of the writings of the German Lutheran theologian Edmund Schlink.
Since Hans and his wife Christa had no biological children of their own, I became one of their "adopted children." On many occasions, he let me know that he considered me his son. My son Jacob calls him "Opa Hans." So his death is hitting us hard, even though we knew this day was coming. We are experiencing what Hans' and my teacher and friend Martin Marty has called "the cry of absence."
The memorial service for Hans will be held at St. Michael Lutheran Church, Portland, Oregon, on Saturday, May 13. Dr. Robert Schmidt, our former colleague in the theology department of Concordia, will be preaching.
Please keep Christa and her extended family in your prayers.
Precious in the eyes of the LORD is the death of his saints, who from their labors rest, and who sing their songs in endless light. Shalom, shalom, dear Hans!
P.S. Linda Borecki interviewed Hans two years ago and uploaded her three-part interview to Youtube. Below are the links to that interview. Thank you, Linda, for doing that! This interview is so meaningful to me. It really captures Hans' personality as well as his spiritual and intellectual depth. What an amazing person he was!
