In Memoriam
The Reverend Robert E. Baxter (1931-2026)
Dear Friends, I apologize for slowing down with my posts. I used to like to publish on Sundays and Tuesdays. But things take longer now. Also, I just finished a course and textbook to address pastoral burnout and dropout. I’ll share more about that soon. For now, though, I want to share something that has been brewing in my spirit for a few weeks, since my home church pastor crossed the Jordan, and is with the Lord he preached for so long, and so well. Should you choose to read the essay, you will understand what I mean when I say, “ He was so much more.” The subject of my writing is personal, but the virtues and many of my experiences are universal. I attempted to write with such a vision. I pray the Lord is glorified, my late pastor, mentor, and friend is honored, his children and their children are encouraged, others who knew him will enjoy cherished memories, and all of you are drawn closer to the resurrected and reigning Redeemer whose love will never let us go. — Mike
In Loving Memory of the Rev. Robert E. Baxter (1931–2026):
A Life Marked by Faith, Hope, and Love
By Dr. Michael A. Milton
The Rev. Robert E. Baxter was the greatest man I have ever known. I speak quite apart from the singularly remarkable gifts and skills that God bestowed upon him. He was a preacher of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, endowed with incredible pastoral presence and an unsurpassed mastery of classical oration. Indeed, it is no hyperbole to state that his insights and delivery—flowing from a pastoral study that was a veritable garden of intellectual delights (daily studies in ancient Hebrew, deep dives into classical rhetoric, memorization of lines from the Great Books of English literature, and even serious studies of computer engineering before computers became mainstream)—were unforgettable.
In a day when public divine services of the Church, particularly within evangelical Protestantism, became increasingly laissez-faire, this man approached “the idea of the Holy” and “the sacred space” with the language of the temple and the synagogue rather than the theater. In this his practice of pastoral leadership in divine services was consistent with the scriptures, the church fathers, the reformers, and the majority of Christian clergy navigating the expansive river of church history. In many ways, then, he was a delightfully anachronistic figure—brilliantly and comfortably able to maintain the highest standards for conducting a service of the Reformed liturgy, yet speaking the truths of the Word of God in such a way that a little child could understand—or, even more amazingly, that even I could understand. His public ministry was charged with what the nineteenth century pastor-poet, Gerard Manley Hopkins, called the “grandeur of God,” infused with the infectious joy and unwavering faith born of his own personal encounter with the living God, the risen Savior.
When my Aunt Eva was in her nineties, she confided in me, “Pastor Bob is the greatest preacher I have ever heard, the greatest pastor I have ever known.” Born in the late 1800s and reared in the rural South in the old “ME Church South,” Aunt Eva was accustomed to biblically-faithful, gifted revivalists and industrious pastors, many of whom stood within living memory of preaching shaped by the First and Second Great Awakenings. Aunt Eva’s assessment of Pastor Bob’s extraordinary ministry also carried a depth of lived experience, for she had heard outstanding preaching still warm from the hot coals of the revivals of the Civil War era (she grew up hearing her grandfather speak of the revivals that swept through the CSA Army camps in the Shenandoah campaigns where he served under Stonewall Jackson). So, Aunt Eva was not speaking merely of a technique that brought greatness, but of what the Welsh call hwyl—the anointing of God resting upon and reaching out through a mortal man who had given his life as a vessel to be used by God. “The greatest . . .” Undoubtedly so.
Pastor Bob’s ministry, together with Marylu’s warm and welcoming hospitality, became for Aunt Eva—and for all of us—a metaphor for home. Home is not where you came from; home is where God walks with you, nourishes you, shelters you. Or, in the words of The Rev. Dr. Craig Barnes, recent president of Princeton Theological Seminary, and one of the gifted preachers of our day:
[He wrote of the longing:]
“It is the memory of Eden, written on every newborn soul, that makes us discontented with the place where we are.”1
[He described the arrival:]
“All of the roads [not lead to, but] belong to God. The real challenge is not choosing the correct fork, but learning to walk with the Savior who can use any road to bring us home.”2
I came home in Olathe, Kansas, when I walked with the Savior to be seated under the ministry of The Rev. Robert E. Baxter.
Pastor Bob’s doctrinal convictions and experiential sensibilities were shaped by the highest order of confessional Presbyterian and Reformed affirmations. Most importantly, he modeled the Christian shepherd who is always an evangelist. He nourished the flock of Christ in Word, sacrament, and prayer, even as he “stood by the door” to invite others into the family of God. Yet his greatness was not defined merely by these vocational gifts and skills. There was so much more.
Pastor Bob was my pastor when I committed my life to the Lord Jesus Christ as a young man. My awakening to the Gospel of grace came when Dr. D. James Kennedy preached from Ephesians 2:8–9:
“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (ESV).
At that moment, life changed forever. I was free. At the same gathering a medical doctor who served as an elder at First Presbyterian Church in Columbus, Mississippi, gave me a copy of the Westminster Shorter Catechism and Francis A. Schaeffer’s How Should We Then Live? Before dawn the next morning I had devoured the literature, and the faithful teachings of my Aunt Eva, the brilliant light of the Gospel, and the doctrines of grace had awakened my soul. I came to recognize the doctrines of grace as the very essence of the Gospel. As I wrote in my diary, “Christ lived the life I cannot live and died the death I should have died—a Great Transfer, a Great Exchange: ‘By grace through faith, the Lord Jesus took my sins. I received His life.’” Simple. Paradoxical. Glorious. Comfortable with both truth and mystery, God’s sovereignty and man’s responsibility. A thirst to know God and His Word became unquenchable. And a fire in my bones to share His grace was ignited and has never gone out.
Within weeks I sat for the first time under the preaching of the Rev. Robert E. Baxter at Olathe Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Olathe, Kansas (now New Hope Presbyterian Church). I was then a young manager for a Fortune 50 company, the youngest in the organization, yet far more thrilled by the life of discipleship in Jesus Christ. While still living in a hotel room, I met with Pastor Bob and shared the arc of my life—from pain to praise, from sin and shame to the life-changing message of Dr. Kennedy. Pastor Bob was used by God to clarify and confirm the Gospel I had first heard from Aunt Eva, from Dr. Kennedy, and from my reading of Schaeffer and the Westminster Confession. By the time my wife, daughter, and Aunt Eva joined me in our new home in Olathe, we became members of that beautiful Christian community. Less than two years later I was elected a ruling elder. Soon afterward I was licensed to preach by the newly formed Heartland Presbytery (PCA) and began my mandated internship for Gospel ministry under the supervision of Pastor Bob, even while continuing my corporate responsibilities. I would continue in what became a three year internship while licensed, spending two additional years under Dr. D. James Kennedy (and another year at the Disciplinary Barracks at Leavenworth, Kansas. Each supervised experience prepared me for the ministries—evangelism, parish pastorates, Armed Forces Chaplaincy, and seminary teaching and administration—I would undertake in my ministerial career. However, no preparation surpassed the pastoral preparation I received from Pastor Bob.
As I read what I am writing, I sense a breeze of personal experience moving through the memorial. This tribute is certainly not about me. Yet, the greatness of a man, of Pastor Bob, is most clearly understood in the sacred context of “I and thou”—that is, in personal relationship. Though my experience of Pastor Bob is unique to my family and me, the deeper blessings of God that flowed through this humble and powerful Christian shepherd are shared by countless others whose lives were transformed at their point of need. I share these things to honor God, to stir remembrance and gratitude, and to memorialize the remarkable gifts and graces of Robert E. Baxter.
Pastor Bob was remembered as a gifted and Spirit-filled pulpiteer, yet he was equally effective in pastoral care and counseling. On each of Aunt Eva’s birthdays he would visit her—first in our home and later at the Good Samaritan Home in Olathe—and read the psalm corresponding to her age. At ninety-one he read Psalm 91:1–2: “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, ‘My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust’” (ESV). He prayed the truths of the psalm over her life, then gently joked that there were only 150 psalms and he would soon have to switch to another book of the Bible. She had never known such personal pastoral care, nor had I.
I have only recently completed a five-year research and writing project on the necessity of integrating education and apprenticeship for biblically and historically faithful pastoral formation. The key throughout church history—from the school of the prophets under Elijah to the pastoral training of the Church Fathers—has always been the supervising pastor. Pastor Bob was unsurpassed in this role. He modeled what he taught and taught by incarnational example in his “sitting down and in his rising up.” I consider him a spiritual guide and director of souls who brought the ministry of presence and incomparable pastoral care to his flock and to his pastoral apprentice.
Is God glorified by the application of skill and hard work to the duties before us? The Apostle Paul declares, “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ” (Colossians 3:23–24 ESV). We are created for good works (Ephesians 2:10). Pastor Bob fulfilled this command and stands as a model to us all.
Yet these remarkable skills and gifts were but the outward expressions of deeper, abiding virtues—virtues born of God’s grace and diffused to others through his life and, now, through his death. I draw from biblical truth and classical wisdom to name three preeminent virtues that Pastor Bob displayed in abundance: faith, hope, and love.
Faith
“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1 ESV).
Pastor Bob’s faith was grounded in the revelation of God in creation and in His holy, inerrant, and infallible Word. It was saving faith that produced a practical, lived-out faith—a faith that led to a whole garden of other virtues and graces. This faith in God, in His Word, and in His redeeming grace through the Lord Jesus Christ issued in a new way of living. It was not evidence in search of God, but faith in God confirmed by evidence. Pastor Bob preached Christ and Him crucified because he had encountered the living Christ in his own life. His faith produced a cross-shaped optimism that my own son described as “the most optimistic man I have ever known.” It was the optimism of one who had been saved by grace—“a wretch like me”—and who trusted that God is sovereign over every trial. Pastor Bob would say, in so many words, “If this had not happened, then that blessing would never have come. God is Lord of all.” When others struggled to believe, he would gently offer, “You just hold on to me until you can have faith. I will believe for us both until you see the Redeemer face to face.”
Hope
Biblical hope is no gamble; it is a steadfast conviction founded on God’s character and promises revealed in His Word. It is “a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul” (Hebrews 6:19 ESV). Such hope is life-transforming, certain, and a confident expectation of good grounded in the Triune God and fully demonstrated in the Lord Jesus Christ. A living hope propels outward action so that theology becomes biography, biography becomes testimony, and testimony becomes ministry. Pastor Bob lived this certain hope. He often quoted such promises as:
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11 ESV);
“Why are you cast down, O my soul? … Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation” (Psalm 42:5 ESV);
and
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope” (Romans 15:13 ESV).
His preaching and pastoral ministry exuded this living hope, whether in Word, sacrament, or prayer.
Love
“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love” (1 Corinthians 13:13).
According to the Apostle Paul, love is the sacred strand that binds the other two virtues together. Love is the selfless sacrificial and unending commitment of self to another in covenant—a man to a woman, a man for his family, for a friend, for his community, and for his nation. We know what love is because “God is love” (1 John 4:8 ESV), and we know the love of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit supremely through Jesus Christ. “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us” (1 John 3:16 ESV). Jesus loved us to the end and beyond the grave; His love never lets go. The Apostle Paul therefore urged believers “to walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us” (Ephesians 5:2 ESV; see also John 13:34–35).
I came to understand the love of God in Christ more deeply through Pastor Bob. When I struggled with the call to preach, he reminded me that the very things that had sought to destroy me— a painful past, sins done unto me and sins I committed—had been divinely transformed by grace into the power that would ignite the Gospel in the lives of others. “In your weakness He is made strong.” For most of my adult life he knew details of my earliest memories that no one else knew, yet his wisdom and counsel proved exactly right: I was drawn to the hurting because I had been healed. Pastor Bob was present at every major ministerial milestone of my life—my ordination, the planting of two churches, my installation as senior pastor of historic First Presbyterian Church in Chattanooga, and countless guest sermons and conferences. When I was installed as senior pastor at First Presbyterian Chattanooga and Pastor Bob preached the installation sermon, the late Ben Haden, my predecessor, was part of the commission. He told Pastor Bob and me after the service, “Bob, that was the finest sermon I have ever heard at such an occasion.“ I once asked one of our members why Pastor Bob was such a popular guest preacher (I thought I knew the answer because I had heard it before and she confirmed it). She looked up at the sky, pausing to give a thoughtful response. Then, she smiled as she turned towards me: “Well, it is hard to say because there are so many things, but I’ll just put it like this: Pastor Bob makes me feel like God loves me.” Think about that.
He loved his wife, Marylu (he could not be Pastor Bob without Marylu), and their children and spouses (and a delightful quiver-full of grands and greats), Mark, Mary Beth, and Jim, and he drew countless others into that beautiful family circle. Through human beings like Robert E. Baxter we catch a glimpse of the personal love of God.
Okay. I’m still suspended a few moments ago by the memory of that dramatic insight from that lady I mentioned. How did she put it? “Pastor Bob makes me feel like God loves me.” That’s not technique. That’s hwyl.
Final Thoughts
Pastor Bob was a skilled man of God, yet those skills were but the outward expression of deep, abiding virtues—faith, hope, and love— qualities of a man called by God to declare the unsearchable riches of Christ. Through joys and trials, through seasons of encouragement and seasons of burden, he lived as one who believed that our Lord Jesus Christ wastes nothing that is offered to Him in faith. The alchemy of grace was not theoretical in his life; it was real. And freely offered to any and all.
It has taken me some time to write these words, and longer still to finish them. I regret that. My own health and my wonder at such an incredible man of God had at first taken my words away. Now, at last, I can say with gratitude and joy: here is the life of my pastor, my friend, my spiritual guide, and a man who will forever be carried in my heart. For whenever I read these words—
“And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love,”
I will know what such virtues look like in one man. And I will give thanks.
M. Craig Barnes, Searching for Home: Spirituality for Restless Souls (Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2003), 14.
Barnes, Searching for Home, 121.
Beautiful. Powerful. Thank you.