The following tribute was presented via videotape to Bob at the Wheaton College Theology Conference banquet this past April. The conference theme, "Ancient Faith for the Church's Future," was one of the central motifs in Robert Webber's writings. Webber died the following week.
April 10, 2007
Dear Robert,
Two of life's best gifts are memory and hope. This is true in psalmody and Eucharistic praying, but also in personal and professional friendship. It is a great honor to practice both of these gifts with respect to your life and work, especially here at Wheaton College.
When I think of your written and published works, I remember, with deep gratitude, opening up Worship is a Verb at about age 18 and feeling an Emmaus-like burning of the heart over its conviction about our risen Lord and its catholic vision for worship. Some years later, I remember receiving seven boxes of files which became the last volumes of A Complete Library of Christian Worship, and sensing the breadth of the landscape which you explored—the whole Bible, all of systematic theology, 2,000 years of church history, every one of the church's various ministries, in 100 or more denominations (all, it seemed, in a single summer). Later, I remember arriving at a hotel in Carol Stream on Monday, to learn that we would be starting and finishing our outline of the Renew songbook in four days. I remember how you said then (and many times since), "I love a project."
As I think about all of your published work, I am struck by some particular charisms which you have shared so freely with us.
First, you have introduced so many of us to the early church as a period of unique theological insight, spiritual vitality, and prophetic correction. You did so in a way that energized practicing pastors and lay Christians. It was said of Princeton's Peter Brown, "he rescued the past from the tyranny of stereotypes." That is also true for you, especially when it comes to worship.
Part of your work has been simply to get us up to speed with a new set of terms. You taught us that "epiphany" and "eucharist" are useful terms. You taught to us to pronounce "epiclesis," "anamnesis," and Hippolytus. You also exercised restraint, sparing us the frustration of feeling that we had to use the words "catechumenate" and "mystagogy" when all we wanted to do was lead people on a Journey to Jesus.
You also coined phrases about our emerging love for the early church, leading the way as "convergence" worship became "blended" worship and then "ancient-future" worship. Many publishers wanted to know what you were calling it, a sign that you were not only describing a movement, but shaping it.
In all of these projects, you were especially adept at writing for people with little previous exposure to the material, a pedagogical skill very much undervalued in academy. So often when writing reaches out to broad audiences, it ceases to be compelling. But I've found that people who read your material actually end up learning things, rather than simply having their prior assumptions confirmed.
Part of your skill is your ability to map big stretches of territory (historically, conceptually, geographically), never letting us miss the forest for the trees. Your most recent book, The Divine Embrace: Recovering the Passionate Spiritual Life, gathers the fruit of a lifetime of teaching this material in congregations. You've chosen a set of the most crucial themes for promoting vibrant Christian faith and life, and you pursue them doggedly. Some of your many students will later come along to study the leaves on some of the trees in the forests you describe. But I hope that they do not forget that a map of the big picture is vitally important for the life of the church.




