Remembering Peter Gomes

March 5, 2011
Peter J. Gomes
Peter J. Gomes

Peter Gomes's life, though perhaps too short, was rich and his legacy boundless.He touched countless people, professionally and very personally, and influenced generations, through his writing and his sermons, his teaching and his friendship. Many who have been touched by his ministry and his life wish to share their stories and reminiscences, which are posted here. We invite you to read what others have said. 

When Peter stood up to sing a hymn, he sang it with the vigor of the newly converted. His voice bellowed and his eyes rarely met the page, for he knew every word, every tune. I would nearly break into laughter at the force of his voice, but I relished those times. I thought: "This is what it must mean to be filled with love for your God." His devotion was pure and contagious and unashamed. This remains; this gives me hope.

Taylor Lewis Guthrie Hartman, MDiv '10
Louisville, Kentucky

Posted March 29, 2011

Though Professor Gomes would surely scoff, I have begun to reflect on his life and impact on me in the way I would a passage from scripture. Not the prescriptive kind—this would not be a bad thing—but the Professor himself told us in the first day of class that he did not intend to create any clones of himself. ("You couldn't even if you wanted to.") And not the boring kind—though he himself certainly loved genealogies. I will remember Professor Gomes as a parable: Short, wholly captivating, and for those bold enough to look a bit harder, a curiously subversive testimony on what is good and right and necessary in our lives and in our world.

Scott Dickison, MDiv '10
Dallas, Texas

Posted March 29, 2011

Rev. Gomes had an incredible presence; he could turn basic greetings and salutations into an occasion. In sermons and speeches, I often marveled at his ability to be brutally honest and charming at the same time. Though his reputation preceded him, he still made time to be an engaged and even compassionate mentor. I'll always appreciate the stories and advice he offered.

Shaundra Cunningham, MDiv '10
Spartanburg, South Carolina

Posted March 29, 2011

I met Rev. Gomes on a hot June afternoon in 1979 at Wittenberg University in Springfield, Ohio, where he was called to speak at a summer convention for the university. I had just been laid off by the company I was working for, had an eight-month-old son, and was hoping to move from this heartland town of the Midwest back to what I called God's Country—the Pacific Northwest. I did not know how I was going to get from Springfield to Oregon, since there was no job waiting for me at the end of the journey and I would be paying for the move on my own.

At the time I was a freelance photographer and a friend of mine was a contract photographer. My friend had drawn the assignment to shoot Rev. Gomes for one of the two magazines for a story on "Great Preachers of the United States." Like many churches and convocation centers of the day, the lighting there was barely brighter than the inside of a cow, so we had to set up a series of electronic flashes. My job as the assistant was to be the gopher and to make sure that cords were plugged in, taped down, and cameras were loaded with film, particularly as the shoot was going on during the service. It is pretty fun and it was worth a c-note as well.

About halfway through Rev. Gomes's sermon (it might not have been a sermon, but that is what I remember it as), my friend shooed me off and said he had everything covered. I went to the back of the church and had the opportunity to listen to Rev. Gomes. He was speaking about all the things going on in the world at that time, and he asked the question: "Just what does it all mean?" It was as if he was preaching directly to me, as I certainly had my share of challenges and was trying to put life in general in perspective.

Rev. Gomes answered his question much more eloquently than I will quote him now, but the gist of his message was that this was just a test of your faith. It was like the ceiling had fallen in on me, but at the same time, I had been set free. I thought to myself: "If this is just a test of my faith, then this is not a big thing." Faith was one thing that I prided myself on having, though, truth be told, at the time it was certainly being tested.

My faith restored, I set about tearing down all of the equipment after the sermon and received the extra bonus of having the opportunity to go out with Rev. Gomes to chat afterwards, just myself and my friend. We found a non-descript campus haunt close by. It was about 1 pm and it was really warm, so the three of us shared a pitcher of beer. I am not sure, but I doubt that this was standard fare for Rev. Gomes, as after about an hour (and perhaps one glass of beer) he said he needed to get back to his room and take a nap, noting that he needed to be ready for the evening sermon.

It was one of the most interesting hour-long discussions that I have ever been a part of, and though I do not remember any of the discussion, I remember it covered the world. During our time together, time seemed to fly. Each of us got up and went our separate ways, and I was renewed by the words of Rev. Gomes. While I read about Rev. Gomes here and there over the years, I never saw him again, but I never forgot those four hours in Springfield.

I am not sure how my family and I would have made it back to the Northwest, but with my faith restored, the next week I got a call from a large corporate organization in Cincinnati for a month of work at an excellent monthly rate, which essentially paid for the move back to God's country and then some.

Thanks be for the life of the Rev. Peter Gomes.

Rusty Rae
Redmond, Washington

Posted March 22, 2011

"Decide WHAT you are going to say, and SAY IT."

"You must decide where you are going, and the IMPORTANT thing is, you GET THERE!"

"Oh, you can TRY to be funny, but the important thing is you don't TRY TOO HARD."

"...which doesn’t mean you shouldn't work—work you must; indeed, you must WORK very hard."
I was privileged to take Peter Gomes’s seminar class on preaching in 1994. I am not sure if those are exact quotes, but these Gomesian imperatives (and vernacular) ring in my head EVERY TIME I am called upon to speak publicly. Good for him. I was, like many other students he taught, a small accomplishment in his very big life. Professor Gomes made this verbose Canadian a little less so.

Meredith Cartwright, MTS '95

Posted March 22, 2011

Of all the many hours Peter and I shared over the past forty-six years, some in class together, some working together, some simply talking together, three stand out for me.

Peter and two of his classmates, Neil Gerdes and Mike Taylor, attended my ordination in Rutland, Vermont, in 1967. They made a bet on how long the Hollis Professor's sermon would be. It turned out George H. Williams preached for thirty-four minutes; I believe Peter won that bet. A year later I read scripture at Peter's ordination in Plymouth, where a much more succinct sermon was given by C. Conrad Wright. And in 1977 Peter preached at my installation at Dennis Union Church on Cape Cod.

While I am sadder than I can say to lose such an old friend, I am also tremendously grateful for the deep, lasting bonds between us, rooted in our experience at HDS, strengthened by our shared commitments to ministry, and sustained for decades by respect, affection, and sheer enjoyment at being together.

David M. Powers, STB '67

Posted March 8, 2011

Sometimes there are no words but, in the spirit of Peter, I won't let that stop me. . . .

Peter was my faculty adviser and one of my favorite sparring partners at HDS. He was also an influence long before then. From when I was an undergraduate in the 1980s to my turn as HDS class speaker in 2005, I have never known a Harvard without him. His life mattered, not only to the spiritual and academic life of Harvard and the nation. It mattered to me.

Sitting on my desk since last November is a photo of Peter and me taken in his office during my 25th Reunion in 2009. I came across it when I moved last fall and since then I have been intending to include it in a letter to him ("Paper and ink, Mr. Gutierrez, paper and ink!"). I wanted to keep current our conversations and everything he had done to tease, cajole, and challenge me over the decades into being a better man. I wanted to catch him up on what he once called "the tremendous doings of life." I suppose I wanted to hear him say once more, "Well done, Mr. Gutierrez. Now what?"

Now what, indeed. Only upon hearing of his passing did I realize how much of what is tremendous in my life today has in some way been influenced or informed by knowing him and observing his own tremendous doings. I never got around to writing that letter. I will cherish the photograph.

I ultimately had much affection for his old school ways and bravura persona. They created a veneer of continuity in what I now see as a genuinely innovative and contemporary ministry. Peter gave flesh and pulse to the ineffable values and traditions of both faith and Harvard by connecting the dots to the changing world in a manner generations felt they could embrace. I know I did. When I was insufferably twenty-one, he met with me and conveyed the veritas of a Harvard I had previously mocked in a way that embodied the institution as a beacon I now honor. For that I am grateful. And I liked him. Truly liked him.

It is too brief a life for those who truly live it.

Eric Gutierrez, AB '84, MDiv '05

Posted March 8, 2011

Three years (2001-2004) at Harvard left me with so much. Many of the memories, however, are fading as time passes by. Among the memories that are at the top of my mind are a few sentences Professor Peter Gomes said at the opening ceremony for the new students at Harvard Divinity School in early September 2001, just a few days prior to the 9/11 tragedy in the U.S.

At the podium on the beautiful lawn in front of Andover Hall, Gomes said, in effect, the following: Harvard may not be so extraordinary within 50 miles of Cambridge, Massachusetts, but it is a symbol beyond . . . There are enormous academic resources and original faculties (professors) at Harvard, so I would like to encourage each of you to slow down to listen to the call before you make decisions on what really interests you. I bet many professors may impress you and sway you and it is in this sense that I invite you to slow down in order to reflect deeply on who you really are. From there, you are likely to make a sound decision authentic to and motivating yourself.

I never took a class with Gomes, but certainly had many chances to hear him speak in person and to converse with him personally. I learned gradually that Gomes was an exceptionally warm, likeable, open-minded, and courageous human. His warm and friendly human spirit was perhaps no better felt than in the conversation over tea/coffee with him at his house on campus. Everyone at Harvard was welcomed to tea time with him on certain days of the week. Knowing my days at Harvard were numbered, I finally said to Gomes in spring 2004 that I would like to visit him for tea on certain day. Alas, I never acted on my plan before I graduated. How I wish Peter would still be available, if and when I return to the campus!

Caifang ZHU (alias Jeremy), MTS '04
Beijing, China

Posted March 8, 2011

I first met Peter in 1977 as a young graduate student in musicology. I was advised by Christoph Wolf, a member of the department, that John Ferris ran a very reputable choir in the Memorial Church, and that I might even be able to make some money singing there. I auditioned for John, and was admitted into the loving embrace of the University Choir. Mem Church became my soul's home at Harvard; the place where people cared about you, not just about the work you do.

At first, I was a reluctant auditor of those sermons from behind the choir screen and would always bring something to read for those long periods between singing. Little by little, however, I was drawn in. By the end of my time in the choir, I was a fan.

At one point during my choir years, I was asked to join several feminist women in the choir in speaking to Peter about sexist language in the Psalter and other parts of the service. Being a supporter of their cause, I was happy to do so. We were ushered into his study, nervous and a bit unsure of what would happen. I brought to bear my Quaker practice of centering down and tried to find that grounded place from within which I knew I would be better able to serve. I'm pretty sure Peter was aware of what I was doing, and afterwards was extremely grateful for my quiet presence. I don't remember the outcome, but I think they all agreed to disagree. Nonetheless, it was the beginning of a long friendship between us.

Over the many years since I left Harvard, whenever I returned Peter would always greet me with a huge hug and occasionally, in the later years, even a big kiss! He seemed to really be growing into his comfort zone as a black, gay, (former) Republican American Baptist. At one point, we were chatting in the nave after an event and it was apparent that George W. Bush was more than he could take: "It reminds me of when I first began serving this church, and some of the parishioners would still complain about how the memory of Roosevelt's voice made their skin crawl. That man's voice does the same to me!"

I must say that the news of his putting off the writing of his memoirs until his retirement is devastating. Can you imagine how delicious a read those memoirs would have been?

Eric Kristensen, MA '80, MDiv '84
Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

Posted March 8, 2011

Thank you for asking for reflections about Peter Gomes.

I was fortunate enough to study preaching with Peter Gomes in 1988 when I was a young MDiv student, and he taught our whole class the terrifying and powerful lesson of how to speak to a congregation of faith, eye to eye, without looking down at our notes. Most of us from that class still preach that way.

Peter remained a friend and colleague over the years; he came out to preach at my first church when I was installed as one of the ministers there, and I came back to hear him speak at Harvard as much as I could. Dinners at his house were always funny and delightful, and he often would recycle his books and give them away, choosing carefully what he thought each guest would like. When he wrote his own books, we bought them by the dozens and read them at church, every time a new one came out, realizing the research and scholarship was too rich to go through fast; we opted to read a chapter a week and discuss it throughout Lent and the rest of the spring.

I think about how fiercely Christian Peter was, and how dedicated he was to scripture, believing you could preach any passage in the entire canon, if you prayed hard enough about it.

Peter got me to say my prayers, and to push through the anxious state of concern that the sermon would not be well-received. "It is far better to repeat yourself or to stumble," he would say, "with your eyes on the people of God, than it is to read something perfectly written."

Peter wrote, famously, of the "thin places" where we know God the most clearly, where, one might say, that the air is at its thinnest, in the margins between heaven and earth. He wrote, ultimately, that suffering draws us to those thin places, and that it is the outcasts who came closest to understanding them. Indeed, he wrote that it is the people on the margins who are the custodians of those thin places.

Peter pushed us to the thin places, past our fear of being insufficient as preachers or public Christians, not in the sentimental way that other teachers and ministers sometimes did it, but in his own fierce impatience for the Gospel. With much gratitude for a man who never looked back, I write in confidence and loyalty and gratitude.

Rev. Rebecca Anne Pugh, MDiv '90
Clergy, First Church in Ipswich, Massachusetts

Posted March 4, 2011

I was a teaching fellow for Peter Gomes for his two popular undergraduate courses: The Christian Bible and Its interpretation and The History of Harvard and Its Presidents. They were delightful years, a highlight of my time at Harvard. Professor Gomes was beloved by the undergraduate students because of his exhaustive knowledge of and passion for the subjects his taught. It was infectious. More than simply a brilliant orator, he created a memorable experience for the students taking his courses, which accounts for his continued popularity over the years. He had his finger on the pulse of the student body unlike any other. He was very generous to his TFs, mentoring us and inspiring us to reach higher pedagogical heights, showing us many acts of kindnesses. In a way, he personified Harvard and became the unofficial guardian of its customs, secrets, and memory. He was an institution within the institution. He is irreplaceable. He will be missed.
Mark Scott, PhD '08

Posted March 4, 2011

Peter Gomes had a true sense of occasion. He officiated at my ordination in 1985 along with others, but it was he who hallowed the moment with his uplifting, inspiring words. Just as he had done in my homiletics class, overflowing with twenty-one students due to the departure of several professors, he reached out to a very diverse audience with his universal message of love and duty to others.
Thank you, Peter. You will be missed.

Helene N. Wolff, MDiv '85

Posted March 4, 2011

I first met Peter Gomes on my arrival at the Divinity School in September, 1975. We struck up a relationship that was to last throughout the years and each time we saw each other or spoke by phone we simply picked up where we last left off. During my time at HDS I worked as a seminarian at the Memorial Church, teaching Sunday School to the children of Harvard professors, a few of whom are now Harvard professors in their own right! I moved into Sparks House to live with Peter in 1977 and remained there until my graduation. I can recall Sunday mornings with Peter, up early to perfect his sermon, typing away with a cup of tea next to him on his desk. Life with Peter was the best, as his house was always very busy, although I came to realize early on that like many people in the public eye, his need for peace and quiet was also a necessity. Thirty-five years have past since then, life has taken its twists and turns, many friends have already left this earthly sojourn, and it is hard to realize that the voice of Peter is now silent. Peter, your passing so soon will leave an empty spot in the hearts and spirits of many people who loved you over the years. Your goodness, your tenacity, your bravely speaking out on LGBT issues, as well as your ability to capture the mood of each generation, are all to be emulated. May the angels lead you into Paradise, dear friend, and give you the rest you well deserve. 

Rev. Paul Wolkovits, MDiv '78

Posted March 3, 2011

My eyes fill with tears at the loss of our beloved Rev. Gomes. Three decades later, I still remember his remarkable sermons and his uncanny ability to comfort us during times of stress, like at exam time. I was fortunate, as a member of the University Choir, to hear Rev. Gomes preach. I often thought he could read our minds. We loved him, and he will be sorely missed.
Jessica Gabriel Lauria

Posted March 3, 2011

Peter was my favorite teacher. He was always so extremely supportive, and encouraging to me. He was an inspiration to me, and to so many of us. I shall never forget him. May he rest in peace.
Bob Jackson, EdM '78

Posted March 3, 2011

While attending Harvard Divinity School in the early 1990s, I was a member of the Harvard Memorial Church choir. Unfortunately, choir members had to get up pretty early Sunday mornings in order to rehearse and then be in our places before services would start. We sat behind a large, ornate, carved wooden screen at the back of the church while Reverend Gomes would lead services from the chancel. Safely out of Peter's field of vision, and mostly eclipsed by the choir screen, I would often fall asleep until nudged by a companion to wake up when it was time to sing.
I suspect Peter heard about this, but chose not to do or say anything to me. However, one Sunday I not only fell asleep, but began to dream, and began talking—loudly—in my sleep. I'm told it actually interrupted his sermon.

Later that morning, Peter and I had a little discussion in his office. He asked me if his sermons were not entertaining enough. Mortified, I said no, I was just a hard-working student who didn't get enough sleep. He nodded and said, "well, please try and sleep on your own time, in your own house!" I think I was pretty alert after that.

Richard Taylor, MDiv '94
Pacifica, California

Posted March 3, 2011

One day I had a chance to sit with Peter and discuss a delicate situation I was facing regarding a co-worker at work. After listening carefully, Peter sat back and sighed thoughtfully. "My deah," he intoned, "One must learn when to trust a person and when merely to enjoy them."
Carla Mortensen '79

Posted March 3, 2011

My two most significant memories of Peter Gomes were the two times I encountered him offering prophetic words: first, "you are not important," and second, "you are so very important."
The first, in Sperry, to a gathering of new HDS students thinking themselves so very special for being at Harvard. He reminded us that there are many more important people, more important causes, more important things than us and Harvard. I heard, "keep your eyes and ears on the One who calls you here and who will call you out from here." Peter Gomes was sure about the One who calls.

The second, in one of those tiny rooms in Andover, to a small gathering of the HDS Christian Fellowship while eating a meal as meager as the group's feelings about their place at HDS. Peter reflected on his own Christian misfittedness, the places he'd been called to, the convictions he held and their occasional clash with the powers that be. He reminded us that we are each called, we are, each one of us, uniquely able to offer ourselves to God, to humanity, to the academy, to the world. . . . We are each so very special. Peter Gomes was sure about his call to minister to Harvard's students and faculty alike.

As I remember Peter's great life, and the tender soul I enjoyed most especially over soup in Andover, I am thankful for his devotion to God and for his service to all of us as one who was sure of God and of God's call on his life. There is no doubt in my mind that he right now enjoys great surety of both his absolute insignificance and his incredible significance.

Monica Burns Mainwaring, MDiv '06

Posted March 3, 2011

I never knew Rev. Dr. Gomes personally or took a course with him, but I have his Sermons book, which I will cherish. It belonged to my maternal grandfather, who passed on two years ago. He was a God-fearing Baptist and life-long churchgoer and I will always carry this book with me, remembering my Papa via Professor Gomes.
Kyle M. Hall M.Div. '04
Teacher, Bronx, New York

Posted March 3, 2011

When Harvey Cox retired, in the fall of 2009, Peter was a huge part of the "cow" ceremonies, which were held on the lawn by Mem Church. Peter expounded on the history of Harvey's chair, the oldest endowed chair at Harvard as I recall, and with all the wry wisdom and pomp and circumstance that were Peter's, he edified us and made us laugh while standing next to a cow who was unimpressedly chewing her cud.
Several people spoke that September day, but I recall vividly when Peter was speaking, a crowd formed of perhaps two hundred students, who happened to be crossing the yard by ones and twos at the time. They heard his voice and came and stood near him to listen for a while.

After the speeches, Peter walked with me over to the Div School, and we chatted about my current parish in Exeter, and he was enthusiastic about coming up to preach and speak at the Academy - I regret that cannot happen, now.

In the previous ten years, Peter had graciously granted me permission to lead some large memorial services in Mem Church, for parishioners from Lincoln who were distinguished alums. In that, and in all the later years, he was remarkable in his welcome for ordained women, toward whom, when I was ordained thirty years ago, he was curmudgeonly. It's a mark of his faith and of his mind that he was willing to rearrange his feelings and alter his convictions, and I think Diana Eck had a lot to do with that.

After his first book was published, and Peter had been on tour, he spoke to a gathering of clergy at a luncheon, and told hilarious tales of the tour, of people mispronouncing his name, misintroducing him as being from Howard U, and finally, in Kansas, a radio talk show host invited people to call in by saying: "He's black, he's gay, he's Republican, he's from Harvard, is he going to hell or not?" I imagine him, content at last, in the Harvard section of heaven.

Rev. Nancy Rockwell
Senior Pastor, The Congregational Church in Exeter, New Hampshire

Posted March 3, 2011


To repeat the lines I left at Harvard's website, in the spirit and style of our spirited and stylish friend "I can report that we have heard some good news, and some bad news. The good news is that the presence of Peter Gomes kindness, compassion, and generosity of spirit will definitely remain with us for the rest of our days. The bad news is that he won't be here to share it with us, as he has decamped for the other side."

Bon voyage, Peter. . . . Our time will come as well, and let us pray we can do as well to brighten and sooth the minds of others until we meet again.

Laurence O. McKinney
Special Student, HDS '76

Posted March 3, 2011