In Memoriam Schubert Miles Ogden (March 2, 1928 – June 6, 2019)

In Memoriam

Schubert Miles Ogden (March 2, 1928 – June 6, 2019)

We all have several “fathers and mothers.”  Our biological (i.e., genetic parents) may or may not be the people who raised us.  I know this very well, having adopted and raised two very young children (ages 3 and 12 months at placement), and each  had been with excellent foster care parents for his whole life before placement. 

Schubert Ogden was my theological parent.  He was also a giant in his field, with his own Wikipedia page: (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Search?search=schubert+ogden&go=Go&ns0=1).  He was also selected by Time Magazine as one of the outstanding theologians of the mid-twentieth century.  With the book based on his doctoral thesis, Christ Without Myth, he firmly established his place in the academic hierarchy, but he is best remembered as one of the founders of the American school of Process Theology.  

His work was devoted to taking the process philosophy writings on God by his teacher, Charles Hartshorne of the University of Chicago, and rigorously applying the two major criteria for correct Christian theology:
    a)    Is it faithful to the to the witness of the Apostolic Tradition, as transmitted through the Church, and
    b)    Is it formulated in a way that assists the church in forming new disciples.

But that alone does not explain why I will be making a 2300+ mile trip to the town of Rollinsville, Colorado this week.

Schubert Ogden was a great Churchman and an outstanding human being.

I met Schubert Ogden when I took his two-semester Systematic Theology course in 1965-1966 at Perkins School of Theology at Southern Methodist University.  He co-taught the course with another excellent theologian, John Deschner, whose short career was terminated by his death a year later.  The course waste taught as a dialogue in which they used Gustave Aulen’s Systematic Theology as a base and then would argue with one another over Aulen’s and each other’s positions.  They would alternate who did the initial presentation of a topic and who did the rebuttal.   As I listened I discovered that I more often understood and agreed with Schubert’s position, but that there as also a depth there that I could not comprehend. 

Schubert was always kind to students, so I went by his office one day and stated a couple of issues I was having, and he spent an hour answering my questions and suggesting further readings.  Thus started a process which went on for two years until I graduated from Perkins and went on to get my Ph.D. at Caltech.  

Schubert was also a strong churchman, a faithful attendant at his North Dallas Methodist congregation and an active participant in the seminary worship.   I can only guess what his view of the current United Methodist kerfuffle over the Church’s position on homosexuality would be.

Schubert and I never lived close together during the intervening half century, but I kept in touch by snail mail and by occasional visits. One memorable visit comes to mind: When I finished my doctorate in chemistry, I drove the family household goods in a trailer from Pasadena, CA to White Plains, NY.  Along the way I spent some time with Schubert and his wife, Joyce (an accomplished artiist who predeceased him by several years) at their home in a Chicago suburb.  It seems that the faculty at the University of Chicago was so impressed with his scholarly philosophical work that they brought him in at the level of University Professor!  Our next meeting was in Dallas.  It was about four years later, after I had taken a position at Texas A&M University.  When I asked him why he had left Chicago, he paused a moment and then replied: He missed the high quality graduate students at Chicago very much, but he really believed he would make a larger impact by training young people for the ministry.

Thank you, Professor Ogden.  I have been trained by four Nobel Prize winning chemistry, but I have never had a conversation with so perceptive a thinker as you.  It is a privilege to list you among my intellectual fathers.