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expectations of people. I assumed he
would be measuring me as long as I was
president. But he went all out to set me
at ease.
While we ate, Muriel sat unsmiling in
her wheelchair. She occasionally took
a bite when reminded. Eventually he
would have to feed her, then tell her to
chew and swallow — and always with
tenderness and love. On subsequent
visits he occasionally found someone to
sit with Muriel and let me treat him, but
more often he’d cook. He was a good
cook, and he liked to show it off.
What I discerned that first visit was that
he needed to know directly from me
what was going on. Not
everything
, but
the important things, so he wouldn’t be
dependent on rumors.
And I realized how badly I needed his
historical perspective. The school was
part of his DNA, and he was a primary
source to help me see the significance
of issues from both a corporate and
historical perspective.
As we were finishing our first lunch, I was
feeling increasingly headachy and weak.
When I stood to leave, I was staggering.
I plopped down into my chair. “Did
anything happen to have sugar in it?” I
asked. We didn’t have dessert.
“Sugar in it?” he laughed. “Of course, I
put sugar in everything!”
“I should have told you,” I groaned. “I
can’t eat processed sugars. They make
me sick.” He couldn’t help chuckling;
he’d made me drunk on my first visit to
his house.
Otherwise it was a very profitable
meeting. I persuaded him to come onto
campus that first year of retirement so
students could meet him and hear him
in Chapel. And we marked it into our
schedules to meet about once a month
to discuss business or share life.
Lunch often ended with a question (or
was it a threat?): “Do you want me to
cook with sugar next time?”
t seems strange that the missionary
apostle Paul, writing to genuine
believers in Ephesus, would tell them
he was praying “that Christ would dwell
in your hearts through faith” (Ephesians
3:17). Didn’t Christ
already
dwell in their
hearts? Yes, but the Greek word translated
“dwell” really means “to dwell fully and
completely.” Paul wasn’t praying
that they
would have more of Christ; he was praying
that Christ would have more of them.
While my wife and I were serving as
church-planting missionaries in Italy, I
was desperately trying to finish writing
a master’s thesis for CIU’s Seminary &
School of Ministry. Robertson and Muriel
McQuilkin graciously invited me to return
to Columbia and live (dwell) in their home
for two months while I did final research and thesis completion, which I did.
The first day I was there, they showed me a comfortable room with a bed, closet, desk
and chair. They said, “This is
your
room. Please make yourself at home.” That same
day, Mrs. McQuilkin took me to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and said, “You
can have anything you see in here. Just make yourself at home.” She baked cookies
every week, and showed me where she kept the cookies, telling me, “These are for
you to eat whenever you want. Make yourself at home!” About a week later, she took
me to the laundry room and showed me the washer, dryer and detergent, and said:
“This is for you to use whenever you want. Just make yourself at home!” One day,
when the guest bathroom in the hall was occupied, Robertson took me through the
master bedroom to the master bathroom and said, “Whenever the hall bathroom is
occupied, just come in here and use our master bathroom. Make yourself at home!”
Every Friday night, the McQuilkin family, Dad, Mom and kids, would have a family
“pow wow” by all sitting cross-legged and shoeless, in a circle, on the king-sized
bed in the master bedroom. I was warmly invited to join them, which I did. Then,
one day, Robertson took me to a “hidden” closet in the house where he stored all
his personal tools, all neatly categorized and labeled. It was obvious that this was
“private territory” that he guarded jealously. But he said to me, “If you ever need a
tool to fix anything, feel free to come to this closet and take whatever you need. Just
make yourself at home.”
What’s my point in telling you this? My point is, that from the day I entered the
McQuilkin house to “dwell” there for two months, that house never got more of
me; but as time went on, I got more of the house. From that experience I learned
the importance of having Christ “dwell in me fully” by yielding every corner and
closet of my life to Him, just like the generous McQuilkins opened every part of
their home to me.
I
Dwelling Completely:
What I learned about Ephesians 3:17 while
living with the McQuilkins
By Dr. George Murray
CIU President 2000-2006
REMEMBERING ROBERTSON MCQUILKIN
11
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