Julie Banks: A Hero of a Different Kind
by Brenda Holt
Zadok Perspectives Issue No. 63
Autumn 1999

Part 2

Julie was a keen gardener. Whether it was vegetables, sweet peas climbing a trellis or cuttings that were coming along, Julie was passionate about growing things. She loved strolling through gardens, but most of all, getting her hands dirty in her own. Her vegetable garden took up half the back yard, producing enough vegetables for five to eight people year round. As she gardened, she prayed. She believed that God was involved in creation and participated with her as she cultivated the soil, planted the seed and reaped the harvest. Her love of nature and gardening contributed to her commitment to composting and recycling. "Julie was recycling and composting well before it was trendy," her sister, Evelyn Hoven, said at the service. She was careful to choose products that were environmentally safer than others, would not use bleach because of its damage to the water table, and recycled anything she could. Again, she believed that because she was a Christian, this mattered to God.

In her neighbourhood, Julie walked. She knew her neighbours. She talked to them across the back fence even in Los Angeles where this is extremely rare. She was aware of who lived where and the needs that were around her. She baby-sat, made meals for people and passed on vegetables or flowers that she grew. She invested in the students that lived with her and Robert in the community house that they ran for nine years. She kept in touch with past students, calling them "sibs" or siblings, and tried to get them to keep in touch with each other.

Relationships to neighbour and family, then, were part of her discipleship. She could be confrontational only because she did not allow those she was living with to quietly harbour resentment towards another sibling. She refused to be the students' mother. Each person was expected to share in the household work and relationship building. She wanted to connect theological learning with all of life.

Julie was also passionate about children. Kids loved her house because they were always catered for: there were toys, pencils, games, crayons and videos. She never forgot the birthdays of the children she loved, sending cards overseas even when she was very ill. She included children in church and wholeheartedly believed that children had spiritual wisdom. At her memorial service, one of her favourite songs, "Let the Balloon Go," was played while the teenagers there distributed brightly coloured balloons to the smaller children. The children then let the balloons go. It was important to Julie that children were allowed to share tangibly in the service. Even when her life was at the end, she wanted children around her. She wanted to die as she had lived: at home in ordinary surroundings, visiting with people, no matter how young or old. Julie's death came as no surprise to those who have walked with her through her illness, for each couple of weeks, either she or Robert would send out an e-mail, updating a whole page full of people about her progress. Their vulnerability, even at their most difficult time, was challenging to us all. Many of us who knew Julie well will miss her deeply. But all of us, whether we knew her or not, can be thankful for the life that she shared, for we are all the richer for it.

Julie was a hero, not in a superhuman sense, but in an 'ultra-human' sense. She lived her life, not to be extraordinary, but, to the best of her ability, to follow Jesus in every area of everyday life. Most heroes choose to be admired from afar. At best we can be challenged by such heroes. Most of the time, we just feel guilty next to them. Julie was a different kind of hero. She chose to be known, so we couldn't admire her. But in knowing her, we entered a graceful power that changed our lives forever.

Brenda Holt Brenda Holt is residential head at Robert Menzies College and a former student at Fuller Seminary.