James Van Der Beek, the actor who became a household name as Dawson Leery on "Dawson's Creek," died Wednesday morning after a battle with Stage 3 colorectal cancer. He was 48 years old and left behind his wife, Kimberly, and six children, ranging in age from 14 to 2.

His family confirmed the news in an Instagram statement:

"Our beloved James David Van Der Beek passed peacefully this morning. He met his final days with courage, faith, and grace. There is much to share regarding his wishes, love for humanity and the sacredness of time. Those days will come. For now we ask for peaceful privacy as we grieve our loving husband, father, son, brother, and friend."

Courage, faith, and grace. In a culture that increasingly treats all three as antiquated curiosities, Van Der Beek spent his final months modeling them publicly, and the response from fellow believers in Hollywood tells its own story.

A diagnosis met with faith, not despair

Van Der Beek first disclosed his diagnosis to People magazine in November 2024, characteristically understated:

"I have colorectal cancer. I've been privately dealing with this diagnosis and have been taking steps to resolve it, with the support of my incredible family. There's reason for optimism, and I'm feeling good."

What followed was not a retreat into privacy but a public reckoning with mortality that drew millions in. As shared by Christian Post, Van Der Beek posted an Instagram video on his birthday on March 8, titled "What cancer taught me." It was raw, unflinching, and grounded in something Hollywood rarely lets its people express openly: dependence on God.

"Today's my birthday and it has been the hardest year of my life."

He described how the disease stripped away every identity he had built:

"I was away for treatment, so I could no longer be a husband who was helpful to my wife. I could no longer be a father who could pick up his kids and put them to bed and be there for them. I could not be a provider because I wasn't working."

And then the line that landed like a thunderclap for anyone who has ever wrestled with their own worth:

"I am worthy of God's love simply because I exist. And if I'm worthy of God's love, shouldn't I also be worthy of my own?"

That's a man who had come nose to nose with death — his own words — and found something on the other side of it that no career achievement or cultural accolade could replicate. He didn't arrive at faith as a branding exercise. He arrived at it because everything else had been taken away.

Hollywood's quiet believers speak up

The public tributes that followed Van Der Beek's death revealed a thread that runs through the entertainment industry but rarely gets acknowledged: serious Christians are working in Hollywood, and they recognize one of their own.

Candace Cameron Bure, the "Full House" actress whose own faith has made her a target of the industry's secular gatekeepers, shared a photo of Van Der Beek on Instagram, accompanied by broken heart emojis. Danica McKellar — "The Wonder Years" star and an outspoken Christian — said she was gutted by the news and directed her followers to Van Der Beek's own testimony:

"If you have a moment, watch this post from last year. It's his last gift he has given to us all."

Leigh-Allyn Baker, known for "Good Luck Charlie" and for her own outspoken Christian faith, urged followers to pray for the grieving family and shared a link to a GoFundMe campaign that had already raised more than $1.4 million by Thursday morning.

These aren't performative grief posts. These are women who understand what it costs to speak about God in an industry that treats belief as either a punchline or a pathology. When Van Der Beek laid bare his faith journey in those final months, he gave them — and millions of ordinary believers watching — permission to do the same.

What cancer taught the rest of us

Van Der Beek's March 8 video deserves more than a passing mention. It deserves to be taken seriously as a document of what faith actually looks like when it's tested by something that can't be spun, managed, or negotiated away.

He spoke about the evolution of his identity — from actor, to husband, to father — and how each layer provided more meaning than the last:

"When I was younger, I used to define myself as an actor, which was never all that fulfilling, and then I became a husband, it was much better, and then I became a father. That was the ultimate."

Then cancer came and dismantled even that. What remained was the most elemental thing: a man alone with the question of whether his existence had value apart from what he could produce or provide. His answer was theological, and he didn't flinch from saying so.

"As I move through this healing portal toward recovery, I wanted to share that with you because that revelation that came to me was in no small part to all the prayers and the love that had been directed toward me."

He also showed something rarely seen in public figures — genuine humility about the limits of his own understanding:

"I certainly don't claim to know what God is or explain God, my efforts to connect to God are an ongoing process that is a constant unfolding mystery to me."

That's not the language of a culture warrior or a prosperity gospel pitchman. It's the language of a man doing the difficult, unglamorous work of faith in real time, in front of an audience that didn't necessarily want to hear it.

A life beyond Dawson

It's worth remembering the career that preceded the diagnosis. Van Der Beek started acting as a teenager in Cheshire, Connecticut, after a football injury steered him toward a school production of "Grease." He was cast as Dawson Leery at 21 — playing a 15-year-old — and the show ran for six seasons, drawing millions of weekly viewers and launching the careers of Katie Holmes, Joshua Jackson, and Michelle Williams alongside his own.

He starred in "Varsity Blues" in 1999 and appeared in "The Rules of Attraction." But by the end, the roles mattered less to him than what they had been replaced by. Fatherhood. Marriage. The daily, unseen labor of showing up for six children.

In September 2025, his "Dawson's Creek" castmates organized a reunion at a Broadway theater in New York City — a live reading of the pilot episode to raise funds for F Cancer. Van Der Beek was too ill to attend in person but sent a recorded video message, thanking his castmates, crew, and fans for being "the best fans in the world."

He showed up the only way he still could. That says everything.

Six children and a question

Van Der Beek is survived by Kimberly and their six children: Olivia, 14; Joshua, 13; Annabel, 11; Emilia, 8; Gwendolyn, 6; and Jeremiah, just 2 years old. Jeremiah will have no memory of his father. The older children will carry the weight of watching their slip away.

A GoFundMe campaign for the family had already crossed $1.4 million by Thursday morning — a testament to how deeply Van Der Beek's final chapter resonated with ordinary people who saw in his struggle something that transcended celebrity.

The culture tells men to define themselves by output — by career, by status, by what they build. Van Der Beek spent his last year discovering that the deepest identity isn't earned at all. It's received. That message will outlast anything he ever filmed.