December 18 Advent Devotion Written by David Hatch

Trisha Huffman | December 18, 2015

This essay is written in response to the suggestion that memories of former members of our church might be subjects of these devotionals both to preserve their memories and to introduce to newcomers persons who helped craft the heritage of Central.

Remembering Walter

As I write this essay of remembrance, I hear the initial solo of Handel’s Comfort Ye, O Comfort Ye my People, and I am reminded once again of Walter Morris, a young tenor of Central Baptist Church’s choir in the old house church at 1644 Nicholasville Road in the early ’60s. I really do not remember that much about Walter, and what I do recall is no doubt colored by time and the love I felt for him as a 10-year-old. I do remember quite clearly Walter singing this solo as the choir performed Messiah. I was completely enraptured. It was surely the most beautiful music I had ever heard sung by the kindest man I ever knew. Walter was in his mid-20s and he always had a smile. There was nothing but tenderness about him. His angelic tenor voice was mature beyond his years. Something about him always had a way of blessing me. He also drove the most wonderful pink Cadillac. 

Several months after this wonderful Christmas music, Walter announced one evening that he would be leaving Central to go to San Francisco. I was heartbroken and remember standing in the back hall of that old building begging Walter not to go, that I really wanted him to stay. Walter looked down at me and smiled with those kind eyes and told me that, no, he really had to go. It was many years before I finally understood that Lexington was not a safe place for him and he needed to find a new home in a community where he could be who he was without fear of retribution. Sometime in the ’80s I was told that Walter’s search for a safe place ended as a pedestrian in the way of a bus.

Part of any awareness in me for a life after this life lies in the persistent hope that the Walters of this world, the oppressed, rejected, vilified, and turned-away, will have an eternal place of safety where they do not have to hide who God has made them to be. Walter was such a gentle soul. If heaven is a place of angelic singing, he has found a home and made it a better place for making room for him. Walter was a gift to this church. I believe Walter’s legacy is a small part of the tangible foundation of compassionate acceptance that resounds through our community. I do not know how any of this works, but I know it to be true. 

Prayer: Give us the assurance and trust, Lord, that the harmony and healing of the soul we seek in this place is but a glimmer of that which is yet to come. And while we wait, may we grope toward that end with all of the strength given to us.