What Real Spiritual Depth Looks Like 🤍

For eight years, I worked shoulder to shoulder with Ernie as he presided over a spiritual community of nearly 4,000 people. I watched him in public and private—never once did he lead with shame or guilt. When others leaned on absolutes, he offered compassion. When people clung to judgment, he gave love. And when the moment called for it, he delivered just the right pinch of humor to soften hearts and break tension.

Several years ago, when I was in deep spiritual crisis—wrestling with the truth of my donor conception and struggling through faith—Ernie was the first one I turned to. He did not try to fix me. He simply sat with me. He shed tears with me. And somehow, in his presence, I felt whole. I felt enough.

Over the past several months, I’ve been visiting him often. He’s in the final stages of cancer, and I ache at the thought of losing this remarkable soul. As we held hands today and said goodbye, I quipped and asked him to help sort out my frustration and questions with God when he gets to the other side.

He smiled and replied, “Yes, Rich. I’ll do that. But I’ve got two bones to pick with Him first—mosquitoes and hemorrhoids. After that, I’ll talk to Him about your donor conception.”

Even in parting, he leaves me laughing. Even in dying, he leaves me feeling loved.

I once watched him stand, with quiet courage, to protect the vulnerable from a violent man—putting himself at personal risk. It was the only time I ever saw him fierce. But even then, it came from love.

When scripture speaks of being strong as a lion and soft as a lamb, Ernest Hawkins is who I picture.

This is what real spiritual depth looks like.Let us not take these rare examples for granted.

Let us tell them while they’re still with us. And then let us try, in our small and imperfect ways, to carry their legacy forward.

Thank you, Ernie. I love you forever.

With gratitude,
Rich