On June 5, the world lost one of its most provocative and prophetic theological voices. Walter Brueggemann, Old Testament scholar, preacher, teacher and esteemed theologian, died at the age of 92. His death leaves a significant void in the landscape of biblical scholarship and the life of the church, but his influence will resonate for generations to come.
My own journey with Brueggemann began in a seminary classroom — not at Columbia Seminary, but at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary in a course on “Preaching from the Psalms” taught by Harold Bryson. One of the textbooks for the course was Israel’s Praise, Brueggemann’s exposition on the theological weight of worship. That course was the first of many times Brueggemann would challenge my assumptions, stir my imagination and deepen my faith.
Barry Howard
A few years later, in 1995, I ventured outside the Baptist world and enrolled in the doctor of ministry program at Columbia Theological Seminary for one reason: I wanted to study with Brueggemann. I completed the program in 1998. Several other Baptist minister friends also pursued their postgraduate work at Columbia as well, including John Pierce, Greg DeLoach, Ron Wilson, Courtney Krueger and Don Gordon. Each of us was drawn to this doctoral program by the gravitational pull of Brueggemann’s prophetic intellect.
My first class with him was listed on the course description as “Old Dangerous Texts for New Dangerous Times.” His lecture notes from this course became the foundation for his book Theology of the Old Testament: Testimony, Dispute, Advocacy.
“My first class with him was listed on the course description as ‘Old Dangerous Texts for New Dangerous Times.’”
Walter had a warm and humorous demeanor outside the classroom. Occasionally after class, my friend Ron Wilson and I, whom Brueggemann fondly referred to as his little Baptist friends, would go to a local pub, grab a bite and watch Braves baseball while unpacking the theological freight of the day’s lectures. Walter could be spotted at a baseball game now and then and later would share stories and analogies conceived at the ballpark.
Years after my graduation, I invited Walter to lead a pastor’s workshop at First Baptist Church of Pensacola, Fla., where I was serving. He was gracious and kind, not only in person but in follow-up. After the event, he sent me a brief yet meaningful note: “Thanks for the invitation. It was great to be in your shop.”
When I published my first book — a collection of call stories from a rich variety of pastors — Walter emailed me an endorsement, specifically emphasizing, “The recovery of a notion of call is urgent among us and your book should help that recovery along.” His words gave affirmation to my work and underscored his constant encouragement of emerging voices in ministry.
Walter had a great appreciation for our Baptist heritage. On one occasion in class, he remarked: “It’s good to have the Baptists here with us. None of us would be here if it were not for the Baptists. They were the freedom fighters who contended for religious freedom for all faith groups because they believed ‘if one of us loses our religious freedom, we all lose our religious freedom.’”
Even into his nineties, Walter remained intellectually vibrant, curious and connected. In our last correspondence on his 91st birthday in 2024, he responded: “Dear Barry: I am glad to hear from you and thanks for your kind words. I hope all is well for you. It’s good work to be a bridge builder. I just turned 91 and am hanging in and taking stock. With much appreciation, Walter.”
“His sermons and lectures could unsettle the comfortable and comfort the unsettled, sometimes in the same sentence.”
Although deeply academic, his writing was marked by poetic rhythm and prophetic urgency. His sermons and lectures could unsettle the comfortable and comfort the unsettled, sometimes in the same sentence.
Walter loved the Scriptures and encouraged his students to “live in the tension of the text.” When addressing various questions about biblical criticism or historicity, he often would quip, “The text is what we have. Deal with it!”
Whether he was teaching at Columbia Theological Seminary or speaking to a room full of pastors and leaders, Brueggemann courageously addressed the juxtaposition of Scripture and culture head-on.
While I’m grateful for all Walter’s writing — from his groundbreaking work on the prophets and Psalms to his cultural critique and homiletical insights — I’m especially thankful for his prayers. In Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth and Prayers of a Privileged People, his words become devotional guideposts, grounding us in faith while drawing us into action. One line from his prayer, “No More Sinking Sand,” seems especially fitting as we honor his life and witness:
God of heavens, Lord of earth,
hear our resolve, heal our unresolve,
that we may finish in sure trust and in glad obedience.
We already know what to do by our careful pondering of you. Amen.
Walter Brueggemann completed his journey in “sure trust” and “glad obedience.” Now it is up to us — those who studied with him, read him or were influenced by his prophetic voice — to keep pondering, to continue proclaiming, to work toward the kind of world Brueggemann’s theology dared us to imagine.
Barry Howard is a retired pastor who now serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife live on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.
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Remembering Walter Brueggemann (1933–2025) | Opinion by Carey Newman