Faith Works 6-13-2025
Jeff Gill
Two giant shadows across this summer's landscape
___
Walter Brueggemann said not long ago: "Churches should be the most honest place in town, not the happiest place in town."
Born in 1933, he died on June 5; it seems no coincidence to many ministers and teachers of religion in this area that David Woodyard, born less than a year earlier, died at the end of March, with a memorial service at Denison's Swasey Chapel last weekend, where he ministered as chaplain and taught as a professor for over 60 years. David and his wife Joanne were married in Swasey on her graduation in 1955, together 70 years as a couple.
There were echoes of Brueggemann's passing in the air as we talked about Dave Woodyard, Dr. Woodyard, Dean Woodyard, depending on who was speaking. Dignitaries from the stage, and friends of long-standing in the aisles before and after. David's father was an alumnus (Class of 1916), and later board member, so in sum there have been Woodyards shaping Denison University for over half its existence.
Both Woodyard and Brueggemann were known for their commitment to their students, sometimes to their discomfiture. I only knew Brueggemann by his writings, and one workshop almost thirty years ago where I heard him speak twice, preach once, and a couple of interactions afterwards in the hallways. Still I can say they shared a passionate intensity about the human ability to know something of God's intentions in this world, and a kind but relentless insistence that the text of the Bible shows us a divine purpose that is often at cross purposes to our own desires.
One thing said in a number of ways by multiple speakers at David Woodyard's memorial was "Dave showed up." He practiced a ministry of presence, on campus, in student spaces when invited, opening his home with Joanne to students and new faculty in many ways. He kept more than office hours, he came when called no matter the circumstances or tensions afoot, and in many ways we all called him fearless.
Which made him hard to argue with sometimes; I still did, and I enjoy some of the memories of our interactions even when they were disputes. Like Brueggemann, Dave Woodyard felt American Christians in general, and his own mainline Protestant fellows, were too comfortable. He argued from the sincerely held belief that church should not simply be a place you come to in order to find reassurance, especially to be reassured that you were right.
Walter Brueggemann said not long ago, according to Carey Newman in Baptist News, to a room full of pastors: "You are afraid of the text."
Then, Newman says, he paused.
"You are afraid of what the Bible says."
Again, there was a pause.
"You are afraid of the what the Bible says because you are afraid of what the Bible will ask you to do."
That sounds very like something Dave Woodyard would say.
As someone who has spent the bulk of his professional life in congregational ministry, I pushed back occasionally on Dave's assertions that Christians are too comfortable, and needed to be challenged at every turn. I would offer from my own experience a counter-perspective about the very real pain and needs of even middle-class American Protestants, while admitting that there was a point to his concerns with how comfortable churchgoing people could insist on being.
Dave didn't blast me out of my seat, he listened, as I know he did with his students. Then he would, with respect but a sharp wit, push back. These were always useful discussions, I think for both of us.
Having taken that side so often in life, I will admit on his passing, and that of his fellow Christian and peer in both age and perspective, he and Brueggemann are right to worry. Now that they are gone from our midst, we need to pick up the theme. If faith is simply a source of comfort, it may not be the clarion call of God for justice and sacrificial love that scripture testifies so consistently.
Let us be uncomfortable at times in church, and thank Walter and Dave for the reminders of how this is part of God's love for us, as well.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he always knows it's a fine line between discomfort and justice in this life. Tell him how you need to be pushed at knapsack77@gmail.com or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads or Bluesky.
Jeff Gill
Two giant shadows across this summer's landscape
___
Walter Brueggemann said not long ago: "Churches should be the most honest place in town, not the happiest place in town."
Born in 1933, he died on June 5; it seems no coincidence to many ministers and teachers of religion in this area that David Woodyard, born less than a year earlier, died at the end of March, with a memorial service at Denison's Swasey Chapel last weekend, where he ministered as chaplain and taught as a professor for over 60 years. David and his wife Joanne were married in Swasey on her graduation in 1955, together 70 years as a couple.
There were echoes of Brueggemann's passing in the air as we talked about Dave Woodyard, Dr. Woodyard, Dean Woodyard, depending on who was speaking. Dignitaries from the stage, and friends of long-standing in the aisles before and after. David's father was an alumnus (Class of 1916), and later board member, so in sum there have been Woodyards shaping Denison University for over half its existence.
Both Woodyard and Brueggemann were known for their commitment to their students, sometimes to their discomfiture. I only knew Brueggemann by his writings, and one workshop almost thirty years ago where I heard him speak twice, preach once, and a couple of interactions afterwards in the hallways. Still I can say they shared a passionate intensity about the human ability to know something of God's intentions in this world, and a kind but relentless insistence that the text of the Bible shows us a divine purpose that is often at cross purposes to our own desires.
One thing said in a number of ways by multiple speakers at David Woodyard's memorial was "Dave showed up." He practiced a ministry of presence, on campus, in student spaces when invited, opening his home with Joanne to students and new faculty in many ways. He kept more than office hours, he came when called no matter the circumstances or tensions afoot, and in many ways we all called him fearless.
Which made him hard to argue with sometimes; I still did, and I enjoy some of the memories of our interactions even when they were disputes. Like Brueggemann, Dave Woodyard felt American Christians in general, and his own mainline Protestant fellows, were too comfortable. He argued from the sincerely held belief that church should not simply be a place you come to in order to find reassurance, especially to be reassured that you were right.
Walter Brueggemann said not long ago, according to Carey Newman in Baptist News, to a room full of pastors: "You are afraid of the text."
Then, Newman says, he paused.
"You are afraid of what the Bible says."
Again, there was a pause.
"You are afraid of the what the Bible says because you are afraid of what the Bible will ask you to do."
That sounds very like something Dave Woodyard would say.
As someone who has spent the bulk of his professional life in congregational ministry, I pushed back occasionally on Dave's assertions that Christians are too comfortable, and needed to be challenged at every turn. I would offer from my own experience a counter-perspective about the very real pain and needs of even middle-class American Protestants, while admitting that there was a point to his concerns with how comfortable churchgoing people could insist on being.
Dave didn't blast me out of my seat, he listened, as I know he did with his students. Then he would, with respect but a sharp wit, push back. These were always useful discussions, I think for both of us.
Having taken that side so often in life, I will admit on his passing, and that of his fellow Christian and peer in both age and perspective, he and Brueggemann are right to worry. Now that they are gone from our midst, we need to pick up the theme. If faith is simply a source of comfort, it may not be the clarion call of God for justice and sacrificial love that scripture testifies so consistently.
Let us be uncomfortable at times in church, and thank Walter and Dave for the reminders of how this is part of God's love for us, as well.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he always knows it's a fine line between discomfort and justice in this life. Tell him how you need to be pushed at knapsack77@gmail.com or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads or Bluesky.
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