There have been several Wallys who have touched my life. The first was a Wally I never knew personally. Wally Cleaver (played by Tony Dow) was part of a television show I watched most everyday growing up.

Then came Wally Brundage who was a sales executive at KPQ radio in Wenatchee where I worked during my senior year of high school.

I met Wally Filkin in the western suburbs of Chicago when I was working for a Christian publishing company. We attended the same church.

Following our move to Mercer Island twenty years ago, two Wallys came into my life. Wally Bostick, a former tennis standout at the University of Washington, asked me to conduct his wife’s funeral. In the process of planning her celebration of life, we built a foundation on which a lasting friendship was built.

And then when I became chaplain at covenant living at the Shores, I met Wally Maier. Wally was one of the quietest people I’d ever met. He spoke only when he needed to and he smiled even less. Wally’s deadpan personality complete with a dry wit won my heart.

Wally’s economy of words was matched by his passion for the environment. That spoke volumes. My friend reminded me of St. Francis who once said, “Preach always, use words on when necessary.”

Although in his late seventies, Wally walked from the campus of “The Shores” up over Gallagher Hill past Homestead Field all the way down to the Town Center of Mercer Island. As he walked, he picked up litter others had carelessly tossed or unintentionally left behind. This daily routine ended at the Golden Arches where Wally would treat himself to a cup of black coffee.

In time the manager of the local McDonald’s came to recognize this regular customer as someone special. Wally was greeted with a hot cup of Joe and a warm smile. After visiting with the quiet “environmentalist” one day and hearing his story, the manager surprised Wally with a card. The personalized business card entitled its bearer to free McDonald’s coffee for the rest of his life.

Wally took pride in his prize. It was reward that honored his efforts to help care for creation. But my friend didn’t set out picking up litter in hopes of being recognized. He did what he did because he knew it was the right thing to do. His good heart resulted in good actions.

As a man of the cloth, I spent much of my career clarifying a foundational truth of Christianity often misunderstood. Many adherents of the faith believe that doing good works obligates God to reward them with eternal life come the end of their earthly journey.

The assumption is that the Almighty grades on the curve. And if that’s true, the more we do to earn God’s favor, the better our odds of being admitted into Heaven and escaping eternal punishment. A “get out of jail” card is the hoped-for reward.

But my understanding of Biblical theology finds the good works we do are not a means to a desired end. Instead, they are the result of knowing we are already accepted by the Creator and wanting to honor the God who has graced us with a relationship. Being a card-carrying Christ-follower, I invest in good behavior because a good God has clothed me with righteousness in spite of my unworthiness.

Wally’s lifetime free-coffee offer recently expired. When Wally’s daughter called to inform me of her father’s passing, I immediately thought about his coffee card. I could only imagine how many free cups of joe he had enjoyed over the years.

I was at once grieving and grateful. My sadness over having lost a friend was compensated by the joy I felt knowing his eternal destination. Wally not only carried a coffee card in his wallet, he carried an identification card in his heart that entitled him to enjoy the eternal destination for which we all are created.

Guest columnist Greg Asimakoupoulos is a former chaplain at Covenant Living at the Shores in Mercer Island.