Professor David Robert Kinsley (1939-2000)
© Canadian Corporation for Studies in Religion / Corporation canadienne des Sciences Religieuses
David Kinsley was born in Holyoke, Massachusetts, on April 25, 1939. He received his BA from Drew University in 1961, his BD from Union Theological Seminary in 1964 and his PhD from the University of Chicago in 1970. From his early days as a graduate student, David was captivated by the wondrous diversity of human religious experience. Hinduism, in particular, fascinated him, and over his lifetime he made many research trips to India to study Hindu gods and goddesses, rituals and festivals. At McMaster University, where he taught for more than 30 years, he developed thematic, cross-cultural courses as well as courses devoted to contemporary issues spanning a variety of religious traditions. There usually were no textbooks where David ventured, no well-defined boundaries. So, with the editorial help of his wife, Cary, he wrote seven major books which are now being used by colleagues far and wide. The bibliography which is attached below gives a very good idea of the full extent of his interests.
But this tribute is not about books on a shelf; it is about the spirit which gave them life. For David was a teacher, first and foremost. He helped his students to develop a respect and sensitivity for other cultures -- cultures with beliefs and practices profoundly different from their own. At a recent event honouring David at a local Hindu temple, an Indian-Canadian student stood up and acknowledged that it was David who made her own tradition alive to her. A teacher can expect no greater tribute.
In December 1999, David and Cary returned from their last trip to India. David had had a very productive time on his research; he was brimming with ideas and enthusiasm for a new book on traditional Indian religious healers. Today the manuscript of this work lies incomplete on his desk. It was one of his deepest regrets that he was not given the strength to complete his manuscript on Hindu healers.
In January of this year, David was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. Instead of trying to hide his condition, he began to tell his innumerable friends. What ensued was a remarkable outpouring of affection and love which, David acknowledged, buoyed him up. He talked with remarkable candour about his disease and its prognosis. He admitted that he was afraid. He also admitted that when he could not sleep at night, he would sometimes weep. We understood that he cried not because he felt sorry for himself, but because he so loved life in all its infinite variety.
Visiting David in his last illness was a strangely exhilarating experience. One would leave him filled with awe for the drama of human courage unfolding before one's eyes. David disliked complaining, and even in his terrible illness he found much for which to be grateful, especially the gift of time: time to remember his wonderful life, time to express his love for family and friends, time to write a poem inspired by the Navaho Beautyway Chant.
On a beautiful trail
I have wandered
With beauty behind me,
Beside me, below me,
Above me, and before me--
Beauty all around me.
At the end of my life,
Filled with gratitude,
I wander in beauty.
In his last weeks, David seems to have set certain dates which he hoped to reach. First, he aimed for the mid-winter break so that he would not leave his students in the lurch. Then, that achieved, he aimed for the end of the semester. This too he managed. Ironically his last class was in one of the courses he had pioneered -- Health, Healing and Religion. Ever the teacher, David prepared a final lecture on the patient as learner. The last date David set was his 61st birthday, April 25. At 2:00 a.m. on that very day, he passed away; he had always loved to celebrate his birthday.
David's family and his close friend Gérard Vallée undertook all the preparations for his funeral with virtually no aid from the establishment which Jessica Mitford excoriated. David wished that this prayer from the Rig Veda be read at his funeral: ``From the unreal lead me to the real, / from darkness lead me to light, / from death lead me to immortality.'' This was done. There was no need for a formal eulogy, for a life of virtue creates its own eulogy.
David's life intersected with the lives of many people of different faiths. When he died, I looked to my own tradition for some consoling thoughts. What I found seemed so fitting that I reproduce it here:
Birth and death are like ships: why do we rejoice over a ship setting out on a journey when we know not what she may encounter on the seas? We should rejoice when the ship returns safely to port (adapted from Midrash Tanhuma by L. Rosten).
One thing was certain to everyone who saw David in the last months of his life: he had weathered the storms and had returned safely to port. Happiness, Aristotle said, is an activity of the soul in accordance with virtue in a complete life. In this sense, David achieved happiness.
David Kinsley is survived by his wife, Carolyn, and by literally a myriad of friends and former students.