A Voice in the Wilderness: Book Launch
- CCS
- Jul 10
- 5 min read
The Center for Christian Studies recently published A Voice in the Wilderness: An Anthology in Memory of Michael and Libby Weed. The book is a collection of some of the best essays from the journal Christian Studies that Michael, with Libby's constant help, launched and edited for decades while at Austin Graduate School of Theology. Launched in 1980, the journal (beloved by so many) ceased publication after volume 31 in 2019, with Keith Stanglin as Editor and Todd Hall as Managing Editor. The Center for Christian Studies launched the Journal of Christian Studies to carry on the legacy of Michael and Libby's work with Christian Studies. We are excited now to offer this "best of Christian Studies" volume in memory of Michael and Libby.
On July 1st, CCS held a dinner for Michael and Libby's children, grandchildren, and dear friends and supporters of CCS, where cloth bound versions of the book were presented to the family and friends. Stories of Michael and Libby were passed around the room, and Allan McNicol and Mark Shipp (colleagues of Michael's for many years at Austin Graduate School of Theology), and Keith Stanglin and Todd Hall offered words of remembrance and gratitude. Included below are Todd's reflections on Michael and Libby's ongoing influence in Christian thought and practice.
I first met Michael and Libby in the fall 1998 when I came to the Institute for Christian Studies. I found at ICS, and later Austin Grad, a fascinating dynamic that I hadn’t seen anywhere else. There was an engagement with our tradition, with Churches of Christ, that was at once both critical and respectful. Michael was the embodiment of this ethos. He was always willing to critique weaknesses and dangers facing our tradition, old and new—from legalism to technophilia and the creeping onset of evangelical vacuity and kitsch. In short, he was capable of making everyone mad. As I’ve noted before, it was reported to me that Libby once said that, in an argument, Michael was “always certain, usually right, rarely pleasant.” She knew him a lot better than I did, of course, but I always found his arguments, if not pleasant, at least funny. When there was talk, in the early 2000s, of a merger with a larger sister school in our fellowship, Michael was concerned ICS would completely lose its identity. In response to this possibility, Michael said, “That would be like a merger between the Vatican and the church of I have arisen.”
Michael’s work, much of which is captured in this volume, may be read negatively as harsh or even angry or divisive. But that is to misunderstand him and his vocation. These writings, often critical, are love letters. Michael loved the church. He loved our tradition. He respected it far too much to be silent in matters he believed to be of grave importance. And as hard a word as these writings may have been to hear, they were certainly “usually right.” Michael had a keen insight into the dangers we face from our enculturation and transformation into The Worldly Church. The church owes him, and all of the faculty at Austin Grad, a deep debt of gratitude, though often he received the same response to his message as the prophets of old.
What a terrible thing, then, it was for Austin Grad, and Christian Studies, to disappear so suddenly, so sadly, and so shamefully. Keith and I spent some time, after finding out about what was coming, thinking about ways we might work toward preserving and extending this important voice in Churches of Christ. And out of those conversations, and in conversations with Allan and others, the Center for Christian Studies was forged.
Libby came on board without hesitation. And, truly, thank God she did. We have been so blessed with such an outstanding board of directors, and I believe we can all say that without Libby there would be no CCS. She and Allan worked hard to secure the old CSP publications, as well as the old Christian Studies volumes. I don’t think anyone else, without her charm, her dedication, her demeaner, could have pulled that off. Libby’s charm wasn’t fake or contrived. It was her genuine self, and her genuineness showed through in all of her interactions.
She was also genuinely kind. I don’t know that I’ve ever known anyone quite as kind as Libby. I told this story before, but I’m going to have to tell it again, because it so encapsulates my experience with Libby. I taught for a year at Brentwood [Christian School], just one class, a Bible class. And now and then I’d wonder over to say hi to Libby in her office. The first time I went there, there were about seven kids lined up in the hallway outside. I remember thinking “boy, must have been some serious trouble going on here for all these kids to be going to the principal!” I remember then being told that it would be some time before I could drop in to say hi, because all these kids had come to have Mrs. Weed pull their teeth. She knew how to do that painful work so well, so gently, that the kids all wanted her to do it.
Now let me tell you: If you’ve ever set up a non-profit struggling to get off the ground, you know that there are a lot of teeth to pull! And, somehow, she always did so with grace and kindness. We knew we could count on her, even in the hard decisions.
Libby was an absolute rock for CCS, firm and strong. She was always able to bring our winding conversations back to the point—you board members know what I’m talking about! And she was utterly dedicated. I can remember many board meetings she would attend, via zoom, while she was sick. In some ways, in her condition, she had no business stressing her body by joining us. But she was committed, she knew we needed her, and she was that sacrificial.
I miss Michael’s mischievous grin and his quiet, shoulder-shrugging laugh. I miss Libby’s kind, quiet, welcoming smile. The Church misses, and will continue to miss, both their insight and leadership. But I’m so grateful to be a part of this production, this moment of preservation, and of carrying on Michael and Libby’s work in the church.
Susan and Pat, Jonathan and Amber, thank you, thank you, thank you, for sharing your folks with us. We pray you are as blessed by this volume as we are, and that sweet memories and the blessed hope of the gospel remain with you, until we see them again.