Ordinary Saints: Eddie Groover

Over my years of blogging, I’ve occasionally written essays on people I call Ordinary Saints. The governor or president won’t order the flags to be flown at half staff because these people died, but some of my good friends and family members made quite a contribution to the world in which you and I live. I haven’t written one of these essays in a while.

But last week, an ordinary saint who lived an extraordinary life died, and I can’t help but think I should post something about his life and witness. His name was Dr. Ralph Edwin Groover, a person most of us knew simply as Eddie Groover. He was an amazing friend and colleague, a faithful witness to the transforming power of the Christian gospel, and a man who took seriously the idea that followers of Jesus are called to be Jesus to the world around us. Let me explain.

I first met my friend at a time in life when I would call him “Mr. Groover” or “Professor Groover.” I was a student at Atlanta Christian College – and so was Vicki – and he was hired as the new, young, engaging professor of church history, Restoration history, and other related topics. He lived up to his billing. Before Vicki and I graduated, he would become the dean of men and live in the apartment in Roberts Hall, the primary men’s dorm back in the day. My senior year, I lived right across the hall from his apartment.

If I remember correctly, I had him for Church History, Restoration History, I Corinthians, and Contemporary Theology. I’m still fascinated by all of those topics. But more than just being a professor of courses I liked, Mr. Groover was accessible. To whatever extent professors and students can become “friends,” we became friends. It was in that Corinthians class that Eddie introduced me – and the rest of the class – to Jim Dyer, who came to class to talk about his reading habits as a minister. He also told us about the “five psalms and one chapter of Proverbs” reading plan that I have done dozens of times over the years and have shared with hundreds of students, as well.

After we graduated, Vicki and I were married in early August and moved to Cincinnati, where we were both in graduate school. The next summer, Mr. Groover and one of our classmates, Belinda Lee – an older student who was already a nurse when she came to ACC – were getting married. We couldn’t come to the wedding, but Vicki and I did send a gift. The card we placed on the gift was to “Mr. Groover and Belinda.” Back in those days, you just didn’t call former teachers by their first names – despite the fact that they were not much older than you were! Eddie and I laughed about that many times in the intervening years. 

After graduate school, Vicki and I were invited back to ACC. Eddie, along with Roy McKinney, took me under his wings, and I learned much about what being a professor in a Christian college should look like. He and I team-taught a seminar on C.S. Lewis a couple of times – and by “team-taught,” I mostly mean I followed his lead. 

When Eddie (I finally became comfortable with the first name for a colleague) started working on his Ph.D. at Emory, I saw him less, but any meeting was one of those proverbial “picking up where you left off” kinds of get-togethers. I taught a class or two that he likely would have taught were he not engaged in the work at Emory, including 1 Corinthians.

When I decided to become the preacher at First Christian, College Park, Eddie was becoming academic dean at ACC. He welcomed me to continue teaching, and for many years, I taught two early-morning classes every semester. Eventually, he would become president of ACC, and he continued to welcome my engagement in the life and work of the college – he even invited me to speak at convocation one fall semester! While I was the preacher at FCC, he would visit fairly often, and I especially remember his encouraging words to me on the Sunday afternoon the church’s new facilities in Tyrone were dedicated to the glory of God. In fact, I can’t remember an important moment in my life in ministry when Eddie wasn’t either there in person or contacted me with encouraging words.

I’ve tried to be good about attending funerals of people connected to ACC/Point. But I don’t hold a candle to Eddie. I don’t remember ever attending such a funeral that Eddie – as busy as he was as president of ACC – wasn’t present. He may never have been the pastor of a local church, but he could have written a fine book on the importance of pastoral care.

I came back to ACC in a full-time capacity as he was retiring as president. He had done that job for 13 years – a long time to work in the context of that kind of pressure. ACC achieved SACSCOC accreditation when he was dean (and Jim Donovan president), and Eddie played a pivotal role in gaining access to HOPE scholarships for faith-based institutions like ACC in Georgia. Without those two things, ACC would never have survived to become Point University.

He served as chancellor for a number of years. He viewed that role as being the public face of the university – something he had been doing for years. I doubt there is a way to calculate how much good will and how many dollars he generated for ACC/Point. 

His sweet wife, Belinda, died about five years ago, and despite that pain, Eddie modeled the kind of faith that can say, “I know whom I have believed in, and I am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have delivered unto Him until that day.” During this time, our mutual friend Steve Hooks retired, and Jim Donovan, Eddie Groover, and I have regularly taken lunch to Steve, where we always spend a couple of hours talking ACC/Point and our work together. My appreciation for Eddie only grew because of those times together.

After Vicki died, almost two years ago, Eddie became an even better friend to me, and that’s saying something. He always seemed to know when it was a good time to call or text, or sometimes, stop by my office. Again, he could write a book on pastoral care.

Both of my children, who have had the privilege of working with Eddie in various capacities at Point, separately said to me after they heard the news of his death, “He was the kindest man I’ve ever known.”

To that, I can only say a hearty, “Amen!”

No politician ordered the flags to be flown at half staff last week. But if you knew the Eddie Groover I did, then you know “a great man among the people of God has fallen.” Lower the flag in your heart with thanksgiving for a life well lived.

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