It occurred to me today that the tribute I posted on Monday to my friend and former boss Paul Nash, who died Saturday, was missing an important element.

I forgot to talk about his gift for helping. That’s a biblical gift (1 Cor. 12:28), and Paul had it to a greater degree than anyone I’ve ever known.

In the years I worked for him, I can’t recall ever hearing him turn anyone away who came to him for help. If he couldn’t help by himself, he could always think of someone on his extensive contacts list who’d be able to. Most of the time, though, he could help personally, because he was one of those omni-competent people who make lesser men feel inadequate. He was physically strong, and good with his hands, and he’d grown up on a farm and knew how to tinker with things. He knew work-arounds. He knew a trick or two they don’t teach you in school.

And he always had time. Even if the day was full of important phone calls and meetings (they usually were; his schedule was insane), he could take an hour or two to help you out. He could always finish the rest of his work later that night. Maybe he’d only get a few hours of sleep. Or none at all. Sleep was boring, anyway.

I’m not like that. I’m good for about two things in the world – writing (translation is a sub-category thereof), and acting/reading copy. If I try to help you out with any problem outside those areas, I’ll probably drop something or step on it or set something on fire.

I’m not sure whether the world needs a lot of people with my gifts. It never runs out of the need for people like Paul. He’ll be missed, by many, many people.

I’m busy with translation work today, and I’m still reading the long book I’ve been working on. But I do have something to write about.

My friend and former boss, Pastor Paul M. Nash, passed into glory, far too young, on Saturday following hospitalization. I’m not sure of his exact age, but he was younger than me and – to all appearances – in better health.

It was Paul who hired me and brought me back home from Florida in 1995. Through the years I worked as his office assistant in the Home Missions Department of the Association of Free Lutheran Congregations, we were sort of a Laurel and Hardy team, each complementing the other in terms of our strengths.

Paul was one of the godliest men I ever knew. He wasn’t just godly in his heart – he worked actively at his holiness. He disciplined himself and kept himself on a leash. I expect I was a disappointment to him in that arena.

Yet, unlike a lot of disciplined types, he was not grim or cheerless. Quite the contrary. Paul was always the life of the party. Things got interesting when Paul showed up. Laughter soon followed.

In many ways he reminds me of descriptions I’ve read of Hans Nielsen Hauge, the founder of our branch of Lutheran Pietism, of whom I’ve written often. Like Hauge, Paul was an A-type who had trouble sitting still, who always had to be doing something useful. He loved airplanes and flew them to facilitate travel for his ministry. He got up early and worked late, and figured there’d be plenty of time to rest after death. Which, sadly, has come.

After his retirement from Home Missions, he started a work called Shamgar Ministries. There’s a brief bio there.