So Then What Happened?

Spirituality Column #253
September 13, 2011
Current in Carmel – Westfield – Noblesville – Fishers
(Indianapolis north suburban home newspapers)

So Then What Happened?
By Bob Walters

When I share my “Awake Date” with people – Sept. 2, 2001, the day I accepted Christ, sitting in church for the first time as an adult – it usually hastens an assumption.

And that assumption is that the ensuing pain and magnitude of 9/11 nine days later drew me further into the church; that my deepening faith was a palliative reaction to seek comfort after the awful events which rocked our nation.

Traumatized, in other words, I found Jesus.

That’s so not true.

What happened was that the Sunday after 9/11 I went to a church “Welcome” class instead of the worship service, and then ran into a work acquaintance in the lobby (“narthex” in church language). As we talked, retired pastor Russ Blowers came up to chat with him, and I was introduced to Russ as a newcomer. I ran into Russ again a few minutes later in another hallway and he said, “Hey Bob, we ought to have lunch.”

He came up to me, already remembering my name.

A few days later we had lunch at Sahm’s Restaurant in Fishers. Russ offered to say grace before the meal and my reaction while he prayed was to be embarrassed sitting there praying in public. I’ve since grown out of that.

We talked that day about many things – Russ was the epitome of a pastor, had multiple interests and he loved people. Discussing the 9/11 attacks, we decided to read Bernard Lewis’s “What Went Wrong” book about Islam. After several weeks of reading the book “together” and emailing back-and-forth, we were friends.

In October 2001 I took a four-week “Walking with Christ” class taught by our senior minister David Faust, discovering – surprisingly – that suddenly I could read and understand scripture. Following the last class I asked to be baptized … at 9 o’clock on a Sunday evening. In 2002 I read the entire Bible.

In May 2002, I met Cambridge theologian George Bebawi, new to this country, at a social gathering here in Indy. After helping to get his weekly class started at my church in 2004, I’ve been studying with George for seven years.

My walk with the Lord has been a run, really, of meeting fascinating people who I am convinced God sent my way. Because that’s what God does; He sends for us. And even though we think we seek God, what Christianity is really all about is that God sent His son Jesus Christ, in divine grace, to seek us.

It’s when humanity runs away from the grace of Christ that we have trouble.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) thinks America’s institutionalized long-term reaction to 9/11 has been just backwards: religion shouldn’t be minimized, Christ should be maximized.

The Hour I First Believed

Spirituality Column #252
September 6, 2011
Current in Carmel – Westfield – Noblesville – Fishers
(Indianapolis north suburban home newspapers)

The Hour I First Believed
By Bob Walters

T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.
– 2nd stanza, “Amazing Grace”

“The hour I first believed” was 10 years ago this Labor Day weekend.

Specifically it was Sept. 2, 2001, sitting in a Sunday church service for basically the first time in 30 years. Dave Faust, who later baptized me, and Russ Blowers, who taught me until his death in late 2007, were sharing the East 91st Street Christian Church pulpit that day, with Russ talking gently about Jesus, faith, hope and love.

It was Russ’s 50th anniversary with his beloved congregation. Dave, a gifted preacher, moved on within a year to be a college president, where he continues to raise ensuing generations of Christian ministers at Cincinnati Christian University.

I sat in the back row with mystifying tears rolling down my cheeks; tears that made no earthly sense, but tears that welled up from deep in my heart with the full cooperation of my mind. Before that, I didn’t know what I believed. Today “belief” doesn’t adequately cover the spiritual and intellectual enormity of a life in Christ.

It – Christian life – is not what I expected. It’s not the limiting, rules-following, holier-than-thou, faith-groveling, meek, mind-numbing existence centered on a guilt fetish that I had imagined. The Christian life is an inexplicable hybrid of empowerment and humility; of intellect and emotion; of binding love, and freedom to choose what binds us; of fear, and freedom from it. It is comfort in hard times, courage in harder times, and the excitement of knowing that every day is new when our steps point to Jesus Christ.

I can’t explain my conversion. Jesus didn’t zap me where I sat. Nobody hit me over the head with a Bible. The Holy Spirit didn’t send me into convulsions and God didn’t rend a single curtain. I just knew that whatever awakened within deserved and required my full attention. That it was right. That it was important. That it was true.

And that it was good. Not just any good, but God’s Good. The real deal.

Humanity is bigger, life is better and eternity abounds when they are boldly defined in Christ. I am thankful beyond words for God’s faithfulness, the Holy Spirit’s presence, and the amazing grace of Jesus Christ.

I truly needed it – we all do – and am happy to share it. Jesus is Lord. Amen.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) was in church that day because his then-13-year-old son Eric had randomly wondered a couple weeks earlier at a family dinner, “How come we don’t go to church?” So they went. True story.

Belief in Belief is an Empty Sheath

Spirituality Column #219
January 18, 2011
Current in Carmel - Current in Westfield - Current in Noblesville
(Indianapolis north suburban home newspapers)

Belief in Belief is an Empty Sheath
By Bob Walters

I recently saw a poster titled “Believe” on a schoolroom wall.

Superimposed over a pleasant picture of a farm field was a parable about an old, blind horse that could pull a heavy wagon by itself as long as the farmer called out the names of several other horses in addition to its own. The moral of the poster is that because the horse “believed” it was hitched with a team, it found extra strength to pull the wagon alone.

Yeah, well. It’s a charming story for a moment, depicting overachievement and trust. In a spiritually sanitized school setting, it bespeaks personal perseverance, community effort and shared task. People helping people. Strength in numbers. I’ll never walk alone. It takes a village, etc.

But think about it; does the poster describe a belief worth having? To believe – or more pointedly, to be tricked into believing – that something strong, helpful and important is with us when it’s really not? Belief in a … lie?

Beyond the behavioral genius of the farmer, the poster’s context tells us – as do so many entities in our society and culture – to simply “believe.” Tricks and behavioralism, idols and false gods, are fine. Just, believe.

Ever been told to “believe in yourself”? How about to believe in a cause? Believe in a sports team or sports star? Believe to achieve? Believe everything will work out just fine?

The horse poster tells us to “believe” in things that aren’t permanent, lack ultimate truth, and, in this specific case, aren’t even there. Just, believe.

In a world created by God, visited and saved by Jesus Christ and indwelt with the Holy Spirit, my belief, faith and trust reside in the palpable reality that my help, my Lord, is really there. God is not a phantom team of horses.

Rather than debating our religious differences, let’s just say that under any circumstances it is empty sloganeering to have a relationship merely with the word “believe.” A relationship with God through Jesus Christ is the only proper context for knowing the bedrock permanence of belief that matters.

My wonderful old pastor Russ Blowers, now deceased, always had his Bible with him. “I never go anywhere without my sword,” he’d say. Ephesians 6:17 calls the Bible “the sword of the Spirit.”

Remove God and God’s word, and there is no sword in the sheath of belief.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) was initially encouraged to see the “Believe” poster in a public school classroom. Now he just feels sorry for the horse.

Mystery, Confusion, and Comfort

Spirituality Column #157
November 10, 2009
Current in Carmel - Current in Westfield - Current in Noblesville
(Indianapolis north suburban home newspapers)

Mystery, Confusion, and Comfort
By Bob Walters

In a November 2004 email exchange with a dear friend, I wrote:

“Over the weekend, for no particular reason, I found myself contemplating God and Christ as a mystery, and locked onto thinking about the difference between confusion and mystery.

“I can see now that my spiritual life changed three years ago (after being baptized in 2001) because my relationship with God through Christ became a mystery, rather than just being confusing. I think there is a key distinction here. Confusion picks at our rational being; it is uncomfortable and something we avoid.

“Mystery, and its close sibling wonder, can hold us rationally in their limitless arms with comfort and peace even in the absence of understanding. When we pray for understanding, we should expect peace in return, not necessarily knowledge. When we pray for wisdom and discernment, we should expect greater comfort, not necessarily more answers.

“Yet, as opposed to the ‘Age of Reason,’ the ‘Age of Mystery’ doesn't sound especially appealing. It seems to require rejection of reason, which is required to live productively and ensure our human survival. Reason is God's great gift to man that makes us different from the animals. But so is spirituality a great and singular gift.

“It's a mystery to me, and I'm OK with that.”

Came the reply that evening:

“That is a mysterious email! There will always be a part of the Faith that will be a mystery to us. If we knew as much as God we would try to pull off a coup and take over. Besides, there are only a few of us who know it all. As John Wooden said, ‘It's what you learn after you know it all that counts.’ An interesting reading for you would be I Kings 3:6-14. Young Solomon pleased God by asking for a discerning heart instead of long life and wealth.

“So, God gave him understanding and wisdom with the longevity and big bucks thrown in. It is right for us to ask for the right stuff and we get more than we expected. You are certainly right in saying that mystery creates a calming effect.”

That, along with some other clever word plays and personal encouragement, was longtime Indianapolis pastor Russ Blowers, a Christian who preached the Gospel. He died two years ago today, Nov. 10, 2007.

I – and many others – miss him so.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) invites you to visit past columns about Russ (Nov. 27- Dec 25, 2007 and Nov. 11, 2008) at www.believerbob.blogspot.com. Got a Russ story? See www.russstories.blogspot.com.

When the Phone Rings Late at Night

Spirituality Column #105
November 11, 2008
Current in Carmel (IN), Current in Westfield (IN) newspaper

When the Phone Rings Late at Night
By Bob Walters

Without my glasses I can’t read the small text on a cell phone.

So it had to be a God thing a year ago when in the wee-est hours of Sunday, Nov. 11 – at 1:10 a.m. – my cell phone rang and, even with sleep in my eyes, I could clearly read the Caller ID name:

“John Samples,” my close friend and minister at our church.

I knew instantly, even before “hello,” why he was calling.

In his comforting, preacherly baritone, John told me that our mutually dear friend and Christian brother Russ Blowers had, as we say at church, “gone home to be with the Lord.” John didn’t apologize for waking me up; I was immensely grateful he had.

Russ was a World War II veteran (U.S. Army Air Corps in England and Germany) who in June 2007 visited Normandy Beach for the first time since 1945. He went with his sons Phil and Paul, and his teenaged grandson – Paul’s son – Collin. I drove them to the Indianapolis airport to begin their journey.

It was a fabulous, meaningful and high-energy trip for the Blowers boys. They saw London and Normandy. They worshipped in Westminster Abbey, with the Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams presiding. Russ picked up some small Celtic Crosses in the Abbey’s gift shop; one of which he gave to me as gift that I wear on a white gold chain around my neck.

Russ of course was the long-time pastor of the enormous East 91st Street Christian Church in the Castleton area of northeast Indianapolis. He returned from the war to his home near Dayton, Ohio, married Marian, got a Journalism degree from Ohio University, went to divinity school at Butler, and was a stalwart and vigorous Christian fixture in the Indianapolis community for 56 years.

After a three week stay at Carmel’s Clarion North facility that began Oct. 20, Russ died Nov. 10, 2007, a scant few minutes before midnight,  He felt ill when he returned from his summer trip to Normandy, and gradually his body shut down of unspecified maladies.

He died at 83; a veteran, a great American and a preacher of the Gospel.

Marian died in 2004, and I know they are together and joyous “on the other shore.”

The rest of us remain here in this mortal coil, wondering always when the phone is going to ring late at night.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) is just one of thousands who mourn and mark Russ’s death, even a year later. Russ helped us know and understand Jesus Christ.

God's Plan ... Freedom, or Obedience?

Spirituality Column #87
July 8, 2008
Current! In Carmel (IN) newspaper
Current! In Westfield (IN) newspaper

God’s Plan … Freedom or Obedience?
By Bob Walters

Once when facing a particularly difficult circumstance in my life, I made the comment to my friend Russ Blowers that the problem “must be part of God’s plan.”

Russ, the wonderful long-time preacher in Indianapolis, looked horrified. “Wait a minute, Bob,” he said. “Do you honestly think that a billion years ago or whenever He made his perfect plan for the world that God said, ‘Bob is going to [have this trouble]?’”

In his nearly 60 years of ministry, Russ had heard it all, and he was clearly not going to let me blame worldly problems in my own life on “God’s plan.”

That God has a plan is certain – He sent Jesus Christ into the world to save sinners by faith and thereby restore mankind to eternal life in glory at God’s side.

That each of us in the here and now has problems, challenges and issues, as well as dreams, desires and aspirations – is also certain.

So … what is God’s plan for my life?

Well, that’s a tough one. The Bible is long on principles and short on specifics.

“Love God and love others.” That may be the best, most important advice in the Bible, but it doesn’t exactly order our personal steps.

“Follow Christ by faith.” If you don’t do anything else, do that, but you’ll find that faith without action is a horribly incomplete equation.

The Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-6-7) is perhaps the best collection of advice in scripture – Christ’s greatest hits, if you will. Memorize it … yet we still look at our personal circumstances and ask God, “Why?”

The thing is we are each fearfully and wonderfully made. We are each unique. We are personal to God, no matter our sin or circumstance. God’s plan for us certainly includes freedom which is critical to developing love, but only when that love produces faith can we then obey God freely. That’s God’s plan.

I’m not obsessed with knowing God’s exact plan for my life, roller coaster that it has been. But I pray every day that I don’t miss the clues – when He provides them – about how to stay on His path.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) suggests that instead of always asking God “Why?”, it is not a terrible idea to simply say “Thank You” in faith and pray He will help us be firm in our next step.

Returning a Gift, Part 5

Spirituality Column #59
December 25, 2007
Current in Carmel (IN) newspaper

Returning a Gift, Part 5
By Bob Walters

One of the unique things about a gift is that you can’t earn it.

You really can’t deserve it, either.

If you earn it or deserve it, then it’s a wage or a prize, not a gift.

If you give and expect something in return, then it’s a bribe, not a gift.

A gift is one of the ultimate expressions of freedom. I give because I want to; I receive because I am free to.

Whether I return a gift … now there is an act of will and discernment.

I’ve been writing this Christmas season about how my friend and long-time Indianapolis minister Russ Blowers, who died last month (November 10, 2007), gave me the gift of courage a few years ago in finding Christ. Christ on the Cross and our eternal salvation is a gift from God; the courage to make that truth part of my life was in large part a gift from Russ.

It was more a gift of his overall demeanor than a neatly wrapped Christmas stocking stuffer – not, “Here Bob, have some courage.” But I must say it was a far larger gift than I understood at the time.

To take a slightly different track …

When I was six I asked Santa for an electric train. Christmas morning in the living room … no electric train. I threw a fit. Got spanked. Turns out Santa had set up the electric train in the basement because it was too big for the living room.

Some gifts are just too big for the living room … and turn up in unexpected places. I feel that way about courage and Christianity and salvation.

There are many things one can do with a gift: Appreciate it. Use it. Ignore it. Say thank you (always say “thank you”). Re-gift it. Return it. Share it. Grow it. Praise God for it.

With Christmas over and as we start this brief season of gift returning, let’s also consider the joy of gift-sharing. Return the gift of courage to those around you. Be brave and ask to understand the gift. Be brave and share your story as a Christian.

It is the kind of gift return that explains why so many people know who Russ Blowers was … and who he will always be to us.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) knows the electric train story doesn’t exactly fit this “return a gift” context, but it’s a true story. Christmas is about a true story.

Returning a Gift, Part 4

Spirituality Column #58
December 18, 2007
Current in Carmel (IN) newspaper

Returning a Gift, Part 4
By Bob Walters

Certainly the gift of "salvation and eternal life with God" is the greatest gift on record.

This is a gift we get – if we want to receive it – because of Jesus Christ, not a gift another human can give to us. So as I write about the greatest and best gift I ever got from a person, it’s not the gift of salvation. We have that gift because of Christ on the Cross.

Russ Blowers, my good buddy who died in November, was a dear friend and giver of great gifts to many people. Whether in finding one’s faith, finding Christ, walking with Christ, persevering in Christ or abiding in this life amid both wonder and horror, so many of us have Russ or some other wonderful pastor, minister, priest or spiritual mentor to thank for facilitating that direct, personal and eternal connection through Christ and the Holy Spirit with God Almighty.

So the gift I got from Russ wasn’t religion in general, Christianity in particular, or specifically the incredible church home – independent East 91st Street Christian Church in Castleton – that Russ shepherded through 55 years of ministry. He retired as senior pastor in 1996, but he never quit the ministry. His impact on Indianapolis, the nation, and the global body of Christ was enormous.

His impact on me – his gift – was specific, powerful, and critical to everything that has happened in my faith journey.

I only just met Russ in September 2001, and he died last month, November 2007 … the youngest 83-year-old I’ve ever known. I won’t go into the details of meeting and befriending Russ, although it involved his inviting me – a quite imperfect stranger at church – to lunch, which also isn’t the gift I’m talking about.

The gift Russ gave me (and probably to many, many others) – without me recognizing it at the time or him knowing it until I told him later when I finally figured it out – was that in his demeanor, assuredness, intellect, grace, faith and resolve, he had given me the gift of courage to go and find Christ, and to become a Christian.

He communicated all that by simply praying over lunch, something I'd never ever done before in a public restaurant.

The courage to find Christ. Starting with a prayer.  It was the greatest and most important gift another person has ever given me.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) will conclude this five-part series next week, and discuss returning this gift. May you and yours have a merry and meaningful Christmas. John 1:14.

Returning a Gift, Part 3

Spirituality Column #57
December 11, 2007
Current in Carmel (IN) newspaper

Returning a Gift, Part 3
By Bob Walters
Author of (click) Common Christianity / Uncommon Commentary

So I’m sitting in church with that tear rolling down my cheek and I could not begin to compose a coherent explanation for it. Nor could I ignore it.

Mature Christians can tell you what that tear was … it was my heart breaking for the Lord. That’s how you become a Christian: your heart breaks, in an odd mix of shame, thanksgiving and love, recognizing why and what Christ was willing to do to save each of us from eternal death.

And it’s too real to shake off.

Wonderful Russ Blowers, this kindly, commanding, calm, cheerful Christian preacher, was up front talking about Faith, Hope and Love; not hellfire, damnation and judgment. And it got to me. It was my conversion experience.

To someone who hadn’t been to a worship service in 30-odd years, it was a very scary moment.

The hardest thing about not being a Christian, you see, is when you decide, or are called or wake up or whatever it is, to become a Christian. We have lots of church phrases for this … “following Christ,” “giving my life to the Lord,” “accepting Jesus Christ as my personal Savior,” “being saved,” “born again,” “I saw the light,” “made a decision for Christ.”

Very nice. And all gibberish to a non-believer; proof that words won’t save you. But that tear, its journey beginning in my heart … that was persuasive.

Russ, I am convinced, was a master – without really trying – of meeting people where they were in their faith. He could cut through the gibberish and encourage one’s deepest hope, and do it with sincere love that revealed Christ.

Then once you got it, once you owned it, you knew Russ was willing to share it with you, to teach you, to strengthen you. That’s why so many thousands of people over the years thought Russ was their best friend.

But I’m telling you, that tear wasn’t the greatest gift.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) notes that Russ never stopped pastoring his flock, which was everyone he ever met.  To read parts 1 and 2 of this series, see www.commonchristianity.blogspot.com Classic entries for 11-23-12 and 11-30-12, or buy the book, Common Christianity / Uncommon Commentary. 
 

Returning a Gift, Part 2

Spirituality Column #56
December 4, 2007
Current in Carmel (IN) newspaper

Returning a Gift, Part 2
By Bob Walters

The first time I saw Russ Blowers was Labor Day weekend of 2001 on the exact 50th anniversary of his ministry with East 91st Street Christian Church.

Though he retired in 1996 at age 72, he continued as Senior Minister Emeritus of the huge Castleton-area independent Christian church in Indianapolis and was a faithful, friendly and familiar face in church nearly every Sunday. He offered comfort and counsel by phone, card or visitation virtually every day.

Russ loved and was loved, and he died this year (2007) on November 10.

Dave Faust was E91’s senior minister in 2001 (he is now president of Cincinnati Christian University). To celebrate those 50 years, Russ was invited to share that Sunday’s sermon as the two marvelous ministers discussed the abiding Christian values of Faith, Hope and Love.

His pulpit appearances rare since 1996, the huge sanctuary throng went stand-up-and-cheer crazy when Russ was introduced. E91 is one of those churches that cheers.

I didn’t know what to make of it. I grew up traditional Episcopalian, where we didn’t cheer; and on that particular Sunday attended church for basically the first time in 30 years. The music was different, communion was different, worship was different … and Russ was different.

As quickly as the cheers rose, Russ stepped forward, smiled, made a gentle “sit down” motion with his hands, and the crowd quieted … almost instantly. Amazing command of an audience.

Russ briefly told of his start with the congregation in 1951, when it was a struggling church of 150 or so on East 49th Street. He joked that the hardest thing he did initially was cancel the annual fish fry fundraiser.

He insisted that the little congregation would praise God, promised that he would preach Christ, and unceasingly prayed for the leading of the Holy Spirit. The church grew and grew.

As to Faith, Hope and Love – 50 years later – Russ’s basic message was:

Faith is formed by our past,

Hope is formed by our expectations of the future, and

Love is what governs our actions today.

Simple and true, Russ got my attention.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) is writing a Christmas series about the best gift he ever got and his hopes to return it. More next week.

Returning a Gift, Part 1

Spirituality Column #55
November 27, 2007
Current in Carmel (IN) newspaper

Returning a Gift, Part 1
By Bob Walters

This Christmas season I’m going to talk about the best gift I ever got, and about how desperately I want to return it.

My dear friend Russ Blowers died a couple weeks ago. He was a prominent Christian preacher in Indianapolis known throughout the nation and, because of his influence on countless global missionaries, throughout the world.

Over the years Russ
- built a local congregation of 4,000 or so at East 91st Street Christian Church,
- was a good friend of Billy Graham’s,
- chaired or otherwise facilitated the Graham Crusades here in Indy,
- had a vision for both global missions and North American church planting,
- raised two exceptional sons Phil and Paul,
- cared for and stood by his wife Marian (they were married in 1946) through a decade of Alzheimer’s until her death in 2004,
- was a World War II Army Air Corps veteran,
- and, among a zillion other things, was that preacher on Indianapolis Channel 8’s daily “Chapel Door” featurette (oh, yeah … ) from 1954 through 1968.

I had never heard of Russ Blowers (rhymes with “flowers”) until I wandered into “E 91” Labor Day weekend of 2001. Russ had been senior pastor at East 49th Street Christian Church beginning Sunday, Sept. 2, 1951, moved the congregation up to Castleton and East 91st St. in 1977, and retired in 1996.

That Sunday, Sept. 2, 2001, happened to be the exact 50-year anniversary of his ministry with that Congregation.

I was sitting in the back row.

Understand I hadn’t been to church on any Sunday, including Easter, more than a half dozen times since I was a teenager in the early 1970s. I’d go to funerals and weddings, but the God thing wasn’t for me. Christ seemed like a good idea but made no sense. The Holy Spirit was just another ghost floating in the ether, and the Bible was just another old book of decent advice that was hard to read.

It was sitting in the back row that Sunday as Russ, retired but invited back to the pulpit, spoke of Faith, Hope and Love – “The Abiding Values of East 91st” was his sermon title – when “something like scales fell from my eyes” (see Acts 9:18 … maybe read the whole chapter?), and a very surprising tear trickled down my face.

Walters (rlwcom@aol.com) will unwind this story over the coming weeks. He was in church that day because his 13-year-old son Eric suggested it.