Monday, November 26, 2018

628 - 'Are You a Minister?'

Spirituality Column #628
November 27, 2018
Common Christianity / Uncommon Commentary

‘Are You a Minister?’
By Bob Walters

“Are you a minister?”

“No, I’m not,” I replied, having only recently been baptized a few months earlier.   So I was surprised when the very quiet, “older” gentleman I didn’t know with the foreign accent posed that question to me back in May of 2002.  The occasion was a small cookout in Indianapolis mostly among some of my old high school friends from Kokomo.

That was how and when I met George Bebawi, who has been the most profound theological, biblical, and intellectual influence in my Christian life.  He turns 80-years-old today, Tuesday, Nov. 27, and there are hundreds of us in central Indiana and thousands more all over the world who would like to stop and take a moment to tell George “Happy birthday” while adding our sincere thanks for his unwavering, deeply loving, and freedom-cherishing Christian ministry and academic career.  He is one of a kind.

Born in 1938 to a Jewish mother and Christian father, a physician, George was reared in a Muslim neighborhood in Cairo, Egypt.  George’s Jewish grandmother who wound up raising him escaped the Nazis in 1930s Hungary by going to Egypt.  He was raised as a Jew but was also encouraged by his father to “get along” with the other neighborhood boys by studying the Qur’an. George knows Judaism and Islam very well.

To make a very long story very short, George and his grandmother converted to Christianity together when George was 18.  He then studied at Coptic Orthodox Theological College in Cairo becoming a Coptic priest, earned a PhD at Cambridge in Sacramental Theology (1970), returned to Cairo to teach and minister, nearly became a Coptic monk but instead rose through the Coptic clerical and administrative ranks in Cairo, served as a Coptic counsel to several international theological committees including at the Vatican, was a missionary in Sub-Saharan Africa, taught at several Middle Eastern and European universities, and studied psychotherapy with Frank Lake.

Though he eventually left the Coptic priesthood, George is a renowned expert in Church History, Patristics (the church fathers), Systematic Theology, Judaism, Islam, and Egyptian Christianity.  George’s CV lists proficiency in 10 languages (English, Arabic, Hebrew, Aramaic, Greek, Syriac, Coptic, Persian, French, Latin), not including German into which he translated the Coptic Bible as a PhD candidate at Cambridge.

George, who married May Rifka at Northview Church in Carmel, Ind., in 2004, first met her in Beirut, Lebanon, in the mid-1970s; May managed a bookstore George frequented while teaching there.  George also served as a medic with the Red Cross during that era’s Lebanese civil war which forced May’s family to flee to the United States.  Once here, May became a lead project manager with EDS (Ross Perot’s computer systems company) and was posted in Indianapolis in the early 1980s.  She returned to the area permanently in 1998, settling in Carmel.

I have to explain May, because without her none of us around here would know George.  I met her in 1983 at dinner a couple of times with some of those same high school friends who again gathered at that spring cookout in 2002.  May, in the 1980s, had connected with them at Carmel’s College Park Church, and though I was still a couple decades away from the Christian scene myself, May exudes the type of kindness that is unforgettable … and I never forgot her.  She moved away and I didn’t see her again until spring 2002 at a funeral at East 91st St. Christian Church for the husband of our high school friend Joyce.  A month after the funeral our gang met for the cookout at Joyce’s home as an encouragement for her but also because May had a friend visiting from England – George – but I didn’t know who he was.

So … there we are at the 2002 cookout, the gals gabbing in the kitchen and the guys gabbing on the patio … with this older, Middle Eastern fellow who seemed entirely pleasant, politely listening to us “experts” opine on what Islam might do to America and the world.  This was, you’ll recall, about nine months after 9/11.  I had read Princeton professor Bernard Lewis’s authoritative book “What Went Wrong” about Islam, and also had read online what I didn’t realize was a bunch of nonsense and misinformation about Islam.  All of us guys – long-time friends, college grads, Christians, up on the news – were all in the same boat regarding Islam: newly but barely informed about a complex topic and briskly discussing something about which we had little understanding.

And here’s George – a Cambridge University PhD and lecturer in divinity and a world-renowned scholar on Islam (who actually knows Bernard Lewis) – politely, silently, looking at us.  It was when I tossed into the conversation something I’d read – online – about “Allah” being a “Moon God” that “had been randomly picked off an image on the Kaaba at Mecca because Mohammad needed a God for his new religion”  At that, George leaned forward. The mere force of his authoritative posture shut all of us up and he said, with stern surety, “No! That is Christian propaganda.”  And I gulped.

At that moment, I was not entirely sure who I had offended.  But George was gracious and neither angry nor arrogantly moved to present a showy academic criticism of my error.  He simply knew what Muslims know: that within Islam, Allah is neither an afterthought nor a figment of Muhammad’s imagination.  We talked a while longer – I was fascinated – and George asked, “Are you a minister?”  He sounded sincere; not as though he hoped I was not.  I said “No,” but took it as an encouraging compliment.

George and I became fast friends.  He returned to Cambridge, I emailed him, and he sent back a nice note along with a master’s thesis he had written long ago titled “St. Paul and Original Sin.”  It was deep stuff I barely understood but desperately wanted to.  We stayed in touch from then on, which opened up a new world of study for me.  When he visited again in September we got together with Russ Blowers and discovered George was familiar with Russ’s son Paul’s work in Patristic theology.  At Christmas we all were able to get together – Russ, Paul, George, May, and me.  In 2004 George retired, married May, and moved to Carmel.  Russ and I convinced E91 to hire George as a Wednesday night Bible Study instructor, a class he taught through 2017.  I helped coordinate with the church and formatted George’s class handouts each week.  He has written dozens of books – most in Arabic – but my 14 years of class handouts, lectures, and notes has been a theology education for the ages.  I know Jesus and do not doubt.

The past year George has battled numerous health problems but every time I’ve seen him – and according to May just a couple days ago – his mind is sharp as ever.  I’d love to see him continue teaching, but I’ve got column material for the rest of my life.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) is 64 years old; same age George was when they met.  May’s hospitality at their home in Carmel, by the way, is as legendary as is George’s generosity with his considerable knowledge and ministerial acumen.
Monday, November 19, 2018

627 - What Was I Thinking...


Spirituality Column #627
November 20, 2018
Common Christianity / Uncommon Commentary

What Was I Thinking …
By Bob Walters

“I have decided … to follow Jesus. No turning back, no turning back…” Gospel hymn

November is a major month in my personal faith history, with no date I can think of more “major” than Sunday, Nov. 18, 2001: the day – evening, really – I was baptized.

Christian doctrines being diverse as they are, “Baptism” means different things to different churches and to different people.  Sprinkled as babies or dunked (or sprinkled) as adults, the meaning of Christian baptism is universally understood to be a declaration and signal of new life, ownership, protection, and salvation in Jesus Christ – none of which means anything to the secular and non-Christian world.

And that was pretty much my world until September of 2001 at age 47 when I first showed up in church as an adult.  Growing up in the 1950s and 60s in America, I like most people went to church because it was just a thing you did.  Back then it was weird if you didn’t go to church.  Today, culture insists it’s weird if you go.  But I’ll take God’s truth over an errant view of weirdness any day, and I’ll take eternal faith in Jesus Christ over momentary fashion every day.  I’ve learned to do that the past 17 years.

On baptism, it is critical to note a couple of things.  One, “being baptized” only truly counts if it is accepted with sentient free will, which is how it is always represented in the Bible.  Infant christenings and baby dedications are wonderful ways for parents and the church body to prayerfully declare their intentions for a child to live a life with Jesus, but that child is going to grow up and have to make a decision about that.  And while I believe He does, I do not understand how God intercedes with children and the mentally infirm except that He does it with love.

Two, the New Testament mentions baptism in a couple different ways – with water and with the Spirit: “baptized in John” (the Baptist) and “baptized in Christ.”  Water baptism is an ancient ceremonial cleansing common to many religions and cultures prior to Christ. Baptism in the Spirit is only in Christ, and was brand new with Jesus.  The water was the same, but the effect is dramatically different; the first was mere cleansing, while baptism “in the spirit” was and is the presence of God.

I believe God loves each one of us.  I pray each human being would be accepting of baptism.  Exactly how God is going to sort us all out – the Bible is pretty clear in some aspects and utterly opaque in others – isn’t something that I give much thought to.  Jesus tells us to trust Him, not to judge for Him, and I’m OK with that.

Baptism for me wasn’t a “beginning,” any more than a wedding is the “beginning” of a relationship.  I felt – solemnly – that I “met” Jesus for the first time sitting in that September 2001 church service.  I didn’t know much about Jesus, but God showed me a way to learn.  Then-senior minister Dave Faust at East 91st St. Christian Church in Indianapolis taught a “Walking with Christ” class over four Sunday evenings beginning in mid-October.  Dave led, the Spirit showed up, and suddenly the Bible – for the first time in my life – was making sense to me.  The spiritual and intellectual depth of Christ was at once obvious, riveting, unfathomable, compelling, and … really, really important.

It wasn’t fear or greed or guilt or needing to belong or any other common and overly-preached sermon point that made me raise my hand and “go forward” to be baptized.  I’d thought about the decision, wasn’t sure if it was the right time or not, but when the time came – Dave had told us there would be an opportunity “to come forward” at the end of the last class and be baptized later – for me there was just no point in waiting.   It was about 8 p.m. Sunday and three of us had stood up in the class of 20 or so.  To schedule the baptisms Dave asked, “When?” and I said, “How about right now?”  He laughed and said, “OK!”

Next thing you know we three, Dave, and most of the class (including table discussion leaders) hiked down to the church sanctuary where Dave turned on the lights, opened the baptistery, and into the water we went.  I’ll never, ever forget the calm, joyous, thankful, and spirit-rich feeling of coming back up into life with Christ.

What was I thinking?  I didn’t imagine that I was sin-free or a better person or part of some club.  No; I was smiling, was profoundly at peace, and was very much in a moment of profound gratitude, not thinking about what I would “become” as a Christian.  But the baptism stuck, and every Nov. 18 I say a prayer of remembrance and thanks to God – with a nod to the ministry of Dave Faust – for the magnificent, mysterious gift we have in Jesus.

And I think what I realized most in that baptismal moment was that a gift is not a gift until you open it.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) writes a personal and probably too-long letter to Dave Faust every year on this baptismal anniversary that is equal parts faith inventory, new stuff learned, books read, people encountered, challenges faced … and the deepest thanks for his ministry.  If you’ve been reading these “thankful” columns the past few weeks, Dave and Russ Blowers (it was Russ’s 50th anniversary at E91) preached together on that first Sunday I was at church, Sept. 2, 2001.  In 2002 Faust left E91 to become president of Cincinnati Christian University, and returned to the E91 staff as Associate Minister in 2014.  Walters also thanks Corey and Christy Falink who shepherded Bob’s study table at Dave 2001 class.  Corey is currently an elder at E91.  And speaking of thanks, Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Monday, November 12, 2018

626 - All You Need is Love


Spirituality Column #626
November 13, 2018
Common Christianity / Uncommon Commentary

All You Need is Love
By Bob Walters

“But the greatest of these is love.” – 1 Corinthians 13:13

Russ Blowers was a terrific preacher of the Gospel but he was an even better lover of his Gospel flock.  Just ask anyone who knew him.

Russ was my buddy.  He was everyone’s buddy.  He knew your name, knew your family, knew your problems and your gifts, knew Jesus loves you, and made you want to love others around you.  The long-time pastoral heart and soul of East 91st Street Christian Church in Indianapolis, Russ could make you feel like you could fly.

So many times his name has come up joyfully but with wistful sadness in conversations with friends in the 11 years since his death Saturday, Nov. 10, 2007.  Counting his church family, the community, American church planting, and global missions, Russ knew and impacted thousands of people around Indianapolis, the country, and the world.  East 91st St. church grew from dozens when he arrived in 1951 (then East 49th St. Christian Church) to thousands when he retired in 1996, and continued to grow while he was Senior Minster Emeritus until his death.

I honestly can’t think of anyone in my life I’ve ever known who has been so missed by so many.  We all experience and list the intense, special emptiness of our own lost parents, family, and friends.  Russ is on a staggering number of those lists.

You didn’t know him?  I’m sorry.  He was a World War II veteran (U.S. Army Air Corps, Europe – he loaded ordinance on P-51 fighters).  He went to Ohio University where he majored in journalism and met his dear wife Marian, who first showed him what faith in Jesus Christ looked like.  He attended (then) Butler School of Theology in Indianapolis for his Masters of Divinity and while there he and Marian hosted Billy and Ruth Graham in their home as Billy spoke to students on campus … allowed not a big theater but only a table in the cafeteria.  Billy and Russ remained friends to life’s end.

In May before Russ died in 2007, the by-now renamed “Christian Theological Seminary” at Butler finally recognized Russ with a well-deserved honorary doctorate.  It took time because CTS was liberal in its Gospel views.  Russ, like Billy, was not.

I was a non-believer who happened to show up at E91 on Sunday, Sept. 2, 2001, the exact to-the-date 50th Anniversary Sunday of Russ’s arrival as the congregation’s pastor in 1951.  The crux of Russ’s “Faith-Hope-Love” message that day in 2001 was simple – Faith is in the past, Hope is in the future, and Love is in the present.  I got it.

Russ and I became close friends during my first six years as a Christian and his last six years as a minister. I asked Russ once what he thought was the secret to his success as a minister. Though he didn’t like the word “success”, he said, “Well … I love people.”  In Christ, it gets no simpler than that.  Everybody who knew Russ knows that.

It was his special gift and the wind beneath the wings of the church: Russ loved Jesus and loved others in a way that inspired everyone around him to do the same.

This year, 2018, is a “same days and dates” year to both 2001 and 2007. The great grace of Jesus is that we are called to look forward to his glory, not behind to our own sins, sadness, failures, or even successes: nothing that came before matters as much as what lies ahead, but I am sentimental so I notice things.  It was bittersweet but special sitting in church this year on Sunday, Sept. 2.  I thought of Russ; I often do.

It is again bittersweet but special as I write this on Saturday, Nov. 10, and it will be that way all week, remembering Russ.  He died late that Saturday evening, just 10 minutes before the start of Veteran’s Day.  A fierce American patriot and proud veteran, Russ would have enjoyed the Nov. 11 concurrence.  I understand that Russ’s sons Phil and Paul, Paul’s wife Sandy, close friend and minister John Samples, and former E91 elder (and cardiologist) Dr. Bill Storer were at Russ’s side when he passed at 11:50 p.m. at Clarion (now I.U.) North hospital in Carmel, Ind.  I saw Russ briefly the day before; he was just awake enough to shed a silent tear.  It was time for his 83-year-old body to retire and for his gentle, loving soul to fly to Jesus and rejoin Marian, who had died of Alzheimer’s Disease in 2003.

John, who did Russ’s funeral, called me with the news at 1:10 a.m. Sunday.

Russ’s funeral was Nov. 15, on a Thursday as it is this year.  I was a pall bearer and this is where I mention that Russ had shepherded me through a divorce two and a half years earlier.  I bring that up because a woman named Pam Brooks – a long-time “East91ster” – was playing tympani in the E91 brass ensemble at the funeral.

Pam and I met by chance – it seemed – just prior to the service.  What I didn’t know until we chatted Sunday, Nov. 18, was that Pam, too, was divorced in 2005.  What I didn’t know for another year and a half until shortly before we were married in June 2009 – by John Samples, incidentally – was that Pam had run into Russ in a Christian book store earlier in 2007 where they sat and chatted at length about Pam’s kids, life, and everything Russ always welcomed hearing.  As they departed, Russ mentioned he had a “good friend” he would introduce her to when he “thought the time was right.”

And we met at Russ’s funeral.  Anyone else see a connection?

So that’s what I’m thinking about this week.  In our Bible faith “tradition” we don’t “pray for the dead,” as such, because there is nothing left to pray for; they’re home.  But we pray to behold the great mercies and grace Jesus affords in this life that enable us to weather the great travails and sorrows of grieving those we love and miss so much.  We pray a prayer for peace in our hearts and thanksgiving for the great saints of faith.

Russ was one of those.

This column is longer than usual but hey, it’s about Russ.  We’ll close with the tender, affirming words of the old greeting on Russ’s home answering machine:

“Father God, thank you for this person who called while I was out.  And thank you that when we call on you, we never get a busy signal or an answering machine.  I pray that this person who is known and loved by you has the greatest day of his or her life … in Jesus’ name, Amen.”

I can still hear his voice.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) is thankful, has written often about Russ, and if you’ve read this far Bob doesn’t mind if you know that the early columns, the ones in his first “Common Christianity” book (2006-2011), are on the blog site link BelieverBob.  Columns #55-59, 87, 105, and 157 are his favorites on Russ, or simply search “Russ Blowers” in the upper left search box   Same with the blog CommonChristianity  (2011-present). If you have the “Common Christianity” books, just look under “Russ” in the index in the back.  Longtime East91sters might also enjoy Russ Stories (link), a collection of remembrances written by church members at the time of his funeral.

Monday, November 5, 2018

625 - In the Beginning, 13, #666, etc.

Spirituality Column #625
November 6, 2018
Common Christianity / Uncommon Commentary

In the Beginning, 13, #666, etc.
By Bob Walters

I can’t remember if it was a phone call or an email, but late-summer 2006 Steve Greenberg offered me the opportunity to return to the newspaper business.

He and a publishing partner in Carmel were starting “Current” newspapers and needed a managing editor.  Steve is a great guy I had known for many years in Indiana sports writing circles, occasionally working together on outside projects.  At that moment I had what was admittedly tenuous employment in corporate communications but figured a steady paycheck was better than rolling the dice on a nascent newspaper enterprise.  Expressing sincere appreciation I declined, teasing Steve that he’d be looking for a job in a year or so, too.  Newspapers were dying, not being birthed.

But before ending the conversation, I pitched the idea of “Current” letting me provide a weekly religion column on whatever religious thing happened to be on my mind.  It wasn’t going to be “church news,” but rather a brief “think piece” essay on something having to do with Jesus Christ – the Jesus Christ that most Christians agree on: not doctrines, denominations, and politics.  Carmel is a vibrant Christian faith community (huge Catholic parishes, huge Christian churches).  Steve, well aware of my newfound faith in 2001, liked the “edgy” first couple of columns I submitted; I don’t write like a preacher.  Column #1 ran November 7, 2006, and “Current” – still going strong – published them weekly through 2015.  I kept writing, and here we are at week #625.

That’s 12 years down, heading into year, gulp, “13.”  An unlucky year?  In Christ we don’t spend a lot of time thinking about “luck” and “superstitions,” we just trust Jesus, pray hard, love others, and deal with what comes; “Thirteen,” I’m saying, is just another number.  But in 41 weeks (Sept. 3, I think) I’m going to have to decide how to deal with “Column #66X” … a Bible “mark” no Christian likes.  “666” (Revelation 13:18) is the mark of the Beast (Satan); and also the mark of man.  I’m guessing that’s an allusion to our sin, condemnation, and death.  Not good: clearly a number to softly whistle past.

I looked to see if my Bible (NIV ’85) has a page “666”; it does, and happens to be Jeremiah 28-29, with God telling Jeremiah to tell Hananiah, “… you have persuaded this nation to trust in lies. … I am about to remove you from the face of the earth.  This very year you are going to die.”  Great; Hananiah died in the seventh month.  The “Sept” in “September” (ibid. Sept. 3?), is Latin for “seven.”  But hey, I’m not superstitious.

Anyway, thanks so much to Steve Greenberg and Current for greenlighting the column and getting things going. It is a great writing-and-thought outlet.  Ironically, it was an editor named “Christian” who at the end of 2015 notified me that Current would no longer carry it.  With my wife’s steadfast encouragement, I still write and email it to 1,000 or so folks each week (free, just ask), and post it on Twitter, Facebook, and our archived and searchable blog, (link) CommonChristianity.

Not to prolong the navel gazing (“hesychasm” in Orthodox monastics), but November is kind of a big month in my faith life … I birthed this column in 2006, buried my friend and mentor Russ Blowers in 2007, met my wife Pam at Russ’s funeral, and celebrated my baptism in 2001.  It all is good lead-up to Thanksgiving.  More soon.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) links to Column #1: The Two Commandments.

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