He had grown up in Philadelphia, the son of a Baptist minister. he had resisted his father's vocation at first, joining the Marines out of college, dabbling with liquor, Islam, and black nationalism in the sixties. But the call of his faith had apparently remained, a steady tug on his heart, and eventually he'd entered Howard, then the University of Chicago, where he spent six years studying for a Ph.D. in the history of religion. He learned Hebrew and Greek, read the literature of Tillich and Niebuhr and the black liberation theologians. The anger and humor of the streets, the book learning and occasional twenty-five cent word, all this he had brought with him to Trinity almost two decades ago. And although it was only later that I would learn much of his biography, it became clear in that very first meeting that, despite the reverand's frequent disclaimers, it was this capacious talent of his --this ability to hold together, if not reconcile, the conflicting strains of black experience-- upon which Trinity's success had ultimately been built.