I couldn’t quite tell, and that was frustrating for me! 

Hearing him speak, I couldn’t quite tell if he was German or if he was British. As he towered over me, introducing himself after church one Sunday in Hannover, I wasn’t quite sure – is he German or is he British? I had started to get a bit too uppity I guess, thinking I had skills for guessing accents after spending so much time in the international community, but this one had me stumped. Turns out he was a native German but had spent time in England for graduate school and then professional work and honed his English to be British English. He really did have the best British accent, and I’m sure he stumped quite a few people over his years.

My friend Dr. Philipp Köker died a few weeks ago. His memorial service took place in Hannover, Germany, this past week. Philipp had moved back to Germany to take a position teaching political science at Leibniz University which is located in the heart of Hannover. He had grown up in the church, had a journey like most do, but found himself worshipping and serving in a Church of England congregation while living abroad.

When he moved back, he found our little community of RELISH and said his heart was home. Postures of the faith heart take on a myriad of shapes, and Philipp’s was shaped by the English language. What he became for us was an amazing, providential bridge between our international English-speaking congregation and our native German-speaking Reformed siblings. In the wake of his death, ripples across the world have taken place as our international siblings of RELISH and our World Communion of Reformed Churches family mourn the loss of someone who made them feel so welcome. 

I called him Professor Philipp because we had so many Philips in our community. He corrected me once – he wasn’t a professor yet, merely a doctor because he hadn’t earned his full professorship yet. He was not only a lecturer to undergrads, but he was also a political scientist who was an expert in presidents and prime ministers across Europe and the world. He knew the history and impact of the rise and fall of politicians. He was such a trusted voice of discernment and reason he often gave interviews for TV and radio shows, explaining what was happening across Germany and the rest of Europe.

I asked him, after we moved back to the U.S. in 2024, to explain to me the reasons behind the rise of the political right here in the United States, and he sent me back a message laughing that it was too complex to explain over WhatsApp. He had, however, shared my question with his class that day and it led to fruitful discussion between professor and students. I’m glad, I guess, he had good discussion in class.

I will miss him a great deal. He died unexpectedly and too young. 

When chatting with my husband about being the Reformed Journal Sunday blogger for the month of November, he wondered about having a common theme across the four Sundays. He then said, “What about thankfulness?”

I scoffed immediately and thought that was too cheesy. But then when I circled back to him, he said it might be cliché but actually, at the moment, it’s hard to think of much to be thankful. I think God knew I needed something to anchor me in the midst of this season.

In thinking about thankfulness, I thought of a gift I was given last week Sunday. As a community, we had opportunity to listen to the creative work of our organist and music director Rhonda Sider Edgington. She had a sabbatical this summer, and she presented some of the poems she had written as well as photographs taken and piano pieces worked on. Thank you, Rhonda, for allowing me to use one of your poems that was spoken into the world at just the right time. I’m thankful for the works of our creatives in the world that show up at just when and in just the way we need. I close with her words with heart full of thankfulness for so many saints, but especially my friend Philipp Köker. 

What my Dead Friends Know

I keep thinking of them
it seems they might know what
we need to get through this
moment and the next
and the ones we can’t imagine yet

sometimes I want to know
what she would say or he do
if they were still here
I want their wisdom and humor
smart-ass remarks questions and stories

not that they knew it all or
even anything but in this
singular moment so full of terror
over what’s coming or no longer here
I want them here with me

looking out at the world
through their eyes
framing it with their brains
saying the words only they
could or would say

I keep stumbling across the books
this one gave me
the texts that one sent
hearing music they liked
finding poems they wrote

playing piano music from his scores
seeing on my desk
a small stone elephant
a tiny straw giraffe
chosen and saved from her things

and it is as if they are still
remembering me leaving
a talisman saying  this could help
you might need this 

 Rhonda Sider Edgington, summer, 2026