As most of you know, Brian Doerksen died last month at age 60, after a painful struggle with cancer. Longtime worship leader and recording artist, he authored some of our most beloved worship songs: Faithful One, Refiner’s Fire, Hope of the Nations, Come, Now is the Time to Worship, and many more.
Brian & Joyce Doerksen
Brian died at home, surrounded by family and friends. As his wife Joyce wrote about his last days, “You always wonder what the measure of a person will be in their time of dying, and I witnessed my husband as the bravest, kindest, and most outward-focused man possible. I am so proud of him for this accomplishment.”
I last saw Brian just a few months ago, at a December concert at which he’d invited me to read one of my Christmas stories. As we chatted in the green room before the show, I mentioned that I was nervous, and he replied matter-of-factly, “I’m always nervous.” This response had two effects on me: It surprised me, and it put me at ease.
My reading that night went beautifully. You can tell when people are listening, and from the first sentence I knew the audience was in the palm of my hand. As I finished the last sentence, someone actually gasped—a pretty good sign!—and afterwards I was swarmed at the book table and sold out my entire stock of books. The reason, I knew, was that Brian’s music had warmed that crowd up. By the time I came on, their hearts were wide open and it was the easiest thing in the world to read to them.
This was the effect Brian’s music had on countless audiences and congregations around the world for forty years, and will continue to have for centuries to come. His songs open hearts—to the reality of God, to love, to all that is most important.
In the 1990’s Brian and I were neighbors in Langley, B.C. Among the many stories I could tell from that time, here is just one:
A winter day in 1994, while Langley was being buried under a blizzard, I was up in my study editing proofs of my book The Gospel According to Job. No cars were on the roads, no one was going anywhere, and I had to chuckle as I came to Job 37:6-7: “God says to the snow, ‘Fall on the earth’ … and stops all people from their labor.” Pondering the coincidence of reading these words on this particular day, I lifted my eyes from the page to see one lone car plowing its way up the hill in front of our house. Peering closer, I realized it was Brian and one of his bandmates, who I learned later were heading out to the recording studio half an hour away. Brian was finalizing tracks for his new CD The Father’s House, he’d booked studio time, production dates loomed, and he wasn’t going to let a few tiny snowflakes slow him down.
At the time, I confess, I wondered if he might be stubbornly ignoring the voice of God! But now I see it as just the opposite: He was a young man intent upon his life’s work: to glorify the Lord at any cost. To me Brian will always be the voice of renewal, the voice of true, fresh, and intimate worship, the voice of the heart poured out extravagantly to our great and awesome King. Indeed in the early days of the Vineyard, just the sound of Brian’s voice—even beyond his words or music—could bring life to my heart.
Thank you, my golden-voiced friend, and goodbye—for now.
Last year Brian and I recorded a conversation about our latest projects: Brian’s new album Love for a Lifetime, and my book Same Old, Same New: The Consolation of the Ordinary. You can watch our talk on YouTube.
And here’s a link to Brian’s latest music video for his beautiful song “Shelter.”
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