Tributes to Walter Brueggemann continue to pour in. His death last week caused a ripple among the authors and websites that I read. Reading some of the obituaries and blog posts that attempt to summarize his life has been interesting. Writers are filled with respect and admiration for the contributions of Brueggemann, the most influential biblical scholar of our time. Several have referred to his book, Theology of the Old Testament: Testimony, Dispute, Advocacy, as his magnum opus. Forbes in their blog post called the 777-page book his magna opera. You have to be a student of Latin to catch their subtle distinction. Magna opera is the plural of magnum opus. Both refer to a significant work of art, music, or literature. The references to magnum opus attempt to choose a single work as the most important. I see no reason to do so when it comes to Brueggemann.

First of all, choosing just one is a huge task. His output was staggering. The bibliography of all of his published books is 20 pages long and includes 120 titles. While many authors struggle over their first book, Walter published three in 1968, the year of his first published book. Despite his dizzying literary output during his active career, he accelerated publication after he retired. Roughly half of his books were published post-retirement. While many scholars aspire to three or four books throughout a successful career, he published fourteen in his 90th and 91st years. Given that prolific output, choosing one and calling it the most significant is impossible.

Brueggemann’s biographer, Conrad Kanagy, chose to reflect one of his books in the title of the biography, which is titled “Walter Brueggemann’s Prophetic Imagination.” I agree that Walter’s book, The Prophetic Imagination, is among his most important contributions to biblical scholarship and the art of preaching. Initially published in 1978, the year I was ordained, it has remained in publication with a second edition in 2001 and a 40th anniversary edition in 2018. It seems to me to be a critically relevant book for contemporary preachers, especially in the light of the rise of authoritarianism in the United States and the pseudo-Christian claims of Project 2025.

Personally, as important as his theological works are, I have been touched by his essays as much as his scholarly books. His essay “The Costly Loss of Lament” should be required reading, and discussion of it should be a part of the theological education of every pastor. It is life-changing and would be church-changing if more pastors took it seriously. It appears in the book “The Psalms and the Life of Faith,” a collection of essays edited by his brother-in-law, Patrick Miller.

Equally impactful on my life as a pastor and my work with the church are several collections of prayers. A small volume to which I frequently turn is titled “Prayers for a Privileged People.” His prayer of Illumination addresses God in a powerful, poetic fashion:

Truth-telling, wind-blowing, life-giving spirit —
we present ourselves now
for our instruction and guidance;
breathe your truth among us,
breathe your truth of deep Friday loss,
your truth of awesome Sunday joy.

Walter understood the power of poetry and often referred to the biblical prophets as poets. Even though he could produce a huge amount of literature and write challenging and complex theological tomes, he kept a deep appreciation for the economy of language and the power of a few words to make a difference. When the times demand speaking truth to power, it is the poets who have the words most needed. Indeed, we live in such times. Brueggemann was aware of the excesses of empire and the injustices of unequal distribution of wealth and power. He challenged pastors to rise to the task of prophetic preaching. He was a preacher’s preacher, influential in the pulpit and deeply engaging when he spoke. He had a quick wit and appreciated a good joke. His gravely laugh was a gift to all who heard his voice. Each time I heard him speak, I returned with a renewed dedication to my life’s work. Unlike Brueggemann, I have not produced literary output. I am currently in the midst of the struggle of producing a single book. The focus of my life’s work was oral language. I have been a preacher and sought to interpret the scriptures with congregations in ways that inspire others to express their faith in service.

Biographer Conrad Kanagy once told me in conversation that he asked Walter about multiple drafts and the process of rewriting. Walter responded that he didn’t rewrite any of his books. He produced a draft and went on to the next one. That report staggered me. On deeper reflection, however, I realized it is exactly what I do with my journal entries. I write an essay each day and move on to the next. I have tried several times to edit collections of the essays, but I doubt that I could ever do so because when I read what I have previously written, I am seized by the urge to make corrections and changes. The book I am working on is in its 7th draft on my computer, and I know that only the publication deadline will stop me from wanting to make changes. I might never finish the project if I left it to my own schedule.

While books are powerful and Walter’s books will continue to inspire and challenge ministers for generations to come, I think that in the end, his books, as wonderful as and meaningful as they are, are not the most important legacy left behind by Walter Brueggemann. More than an author, Walter was a teacher. He has inspired generations of preachers. One of my colleagues and mentors once confessed that he temporarily misplaced the Bible he had used as a student in Brueggemann’s classes. When the book was buried among other books in a move, he continued to preach, but did not deliver a single sermon on an Old Testament text until the missing bible was found. He felt he could not preach without the notes he had taken in class. I’m not enslaved by notes taken, but I know I can’t preach without recognizing the influence of Brueggemann on my choice of words.

Walter has died from this life as we all one day will. But his presence is very real in the words of countless preachers whose lives he touched. Their sermons, however, are not his true legacy. The true legacy is in the actions of the congregations inspired by those sermons.