Neville Muir – A tribute

1945~2020

Some men stand out among others. 

Neville Muir was a giant of a man. He was loved and admired by thousands around the world, not as a rock star is by unknown fans but as one who has personally reached into and touched the lives of many. He was a man who had, unwaveringly, a heart after God.

I first met Neville at Osaka International Church (OIC) in 1994. He and Lill would come into the church with their four young boys Brent, Erik, David and Ian. Ian was always a trick and the life of the party. OIC became DMI’s base in Japan, supported by pastor Jack Marshall who at 91 continues to serve on DMI’s Japan Board.

When I began to serve as pastor at Minoh International Church, DMI became our primary focus of giving. It was an easy decision. I still remember Neville speaking to our congregation. Like Jesus, he had “no beauty or majesty to attract us to him” and like Paul, he may have been “untrained in speech” but in his gentle, Christlike way, Neville captivated us and won our hearts. Neville was exceptional not just because of his vision or all he was able to achieve in his life, but simply because of who he was.

Everywhere he went, he took the presence of Jesus with him. Everywhere he went, people responded to him. Everyone loved Neville, and God’s favour was upon him. It was a treat to see him engage with those around him, so humbly, so gently, with such good humour and with such amazing compassion.

His vision was to take education, employment and the gospel to the Deaf in developing countries. It began with the sponsorship of one Deaf boy over 40 years ago. Today, his ministry has spread all over the world. I’ve been associated with DMI for decades and worked for DMI for years and I still don’t know how many people Neville has reached. 

This is not only because of the sheer volume of ministry work that Neville has done, but the humility with which he has done it. Every week there would be contact from a far-flung region: another child sponsored, another medical bill paid, another classroom opened, another believer baptised, another evangelist supported. Neville’s reach into the world is almost impossible to define. What’s more, often when there was a financial need, Neville would just quietly reach into his own pocket to pay. 

He was a man of great faith. In the face of hardships and impossibilities, Neville always remained calm and trusting. His exploits of impossible outreach sometimes made no sense whatsoever but Neville’s love for the outcast was unceasing and he always trusted God. Somehow, the lost were reached. Somehow, the right place was found. Somehow, the money came through. Somehow, it worked out.

He was a man of great character. Forty years of mission work will inevitably see, from time to time, misunderstanding, moral failure, betrayal and loss in the field. I never saw Neville lose his temper or his resolve. On the contrary, he handled all tribulations with wisdom, humility, patience, decisiveness and compassion. 

He was a man of great humour. There were few conversations I had with Neville that didn’t end up in laughter. He was delightfully self-deprecating, and would laugh long and hard at his own faux pas, especially when it came to international signing. Whether signing the word ‘toilet’ instead of ‘taxi’ in Myanmar, or mistakenly encouraging a congregation in Korea to enjoy coffee and sex after the service, there seemed to be no end to the mistakes which international signing afforded, and which Neville obliged.

This self-deprecation was never more on display than with his sickness. Neville struggled with multiple cancers for about seven years, and he would share stories of his treatment with all of us. Who can forget the horrendous but hilarious account of his flight from the Norwegian conference in 2017? “I started to bleed on the flight to Norway, then as soon as we arrived I was put into hospital, endured a cystoscopy and had a catheter put in…it was excruciatingly boring… I could not eat anything and my only human contact was when a nurse came in wearing bright yellow hazmat attire, just to change my catheter!” This wasn’t a personal mail. He wrote this for all to read in the newsletter! From anyone else it would have been too much information, but for Neville, we were all family, we were all sharing his journey and he wanted us all to laugh along.

He was a man of great mission. Tremendous mission. Mission work that extended so far and so wide it became impossible to record everything. On one visit to our church, Neville was sharing stories of the lost who were being reached in the most remote corners of the world. I asked Neville afterwards who was recording all the stories. No-one, he said. That’s when the idea for a blog was born. (The newsletters report more on DMI’s schools, churches and projects. The blogs focus on individual stories.) In the last year or two of his life, I was not the only one prodding Neville to write an autobiography. To the best of my knowledge, he never got past the first paragraph. For a man about whom many books could be written, trying to write one himself was surely too daunting.

My first trip with Neville was to Myanmar. Burmese law required us to stay in hotels. For a week, we ate dinner together, just the two of us, sharing our lives, sharing vision, munching away, always laughing. It was such a rich time of fellowship. I feel so honoured to have had that time with him.

He was a great family man. He had such a great love for Lill and his boys. He adored his whole expanding family. I was always thrilled when Neville would tell me he couldn’t make it to an event or do a certain task because he had to attend a grandchild’s birthday. He had such a desire to put his family first, and the quality of his family today is a testimony to that dedication.

Neville Muir was the finest example of Christian living I have ever met. He stands out amongst a stellar line up of faithful and fruitful servants. He was the embodiment of the good samaritan, the epitome of a good shepherd. He was a pioneering missionary, a modern-day apostle. Thousands of Deaf and hearing people around the world have been affected by his love for the gospel and his  love for them. We used to joke with him that he should be dubbed ‘St. Neville of Beaconsfield’. We all laughed at this but it was less of a joke for us than it was for Neville.

When I heard the news that Neville had passed away, I was initially overcome with sadness and grief. As I processed this, I found my sadness being superseded by gratefulness. I miss Neville. I will continue to miss him. But I will always be grateful for the chance to know him, to work with him and to enjoy his friendship. His legacy will last for decades, if not centuries. And when future generations ask after him, I will be amongst those who can say with pride, “I walked with Neville”.

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12