Bob Thomas was one of the saints of this church. He was a man of principle, courage, humility, and heart. He died at age 90 in March, 1993. To that day, he carried with him always a deep love and devotion for high school sweetheart, Dorothea. She was his beloved wife who preceded Bob in death by 14 years.

Bob was an activist, but not the firebrand sort. He was quiet yet determined, joining college students on busses to Marches on Washington well into his 80's. His resume of achievements for the common good was long and distinguished, including local and national accolades. On Sunday mornings, he carried a little devotional book filled with poems and prayers by Thomas Kepler. He often read from this well-worn treasure during Sharing Time.

Bob lived the Sermon on the Mount and the Beatitudes, but he always credited Dorothea with being the ‘real’ bible student between them. If you never met Bob, his picture hangs in the parlor. If it wasn’t for Bob, you wouldn’t be sitting here today.

During the 1960's, Bob heard the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., decry Sunday mornings at 11 a.m. as “the most segregated hour of the week.” At the time, Bob and Dorothea were attending Mt. Zion Baptist Church, the black Baptist Church in town, where they had been members for a long time.

Bob couldn’t get Dr. King’s comment out of his head. He began to sense God’s call to come to this church, then named ‘First Baptist Church.’ Dorothea wasn’t equally convinced, but eventually agreed to leave her friends at Mt. Zion and build new relationships here. As members of FBC, Bob and Dorothea assumed important roles, with Bob serving as the Moderator when Steve and I came to Oberlin.

The time came during the 1970's when First Baptist Church seriously considered closing. The congregation had shrunk to eleven people (“plus Jesus,” as Bob always said). Nine of them were retired. They had been ably served by part-time retired pastors for several years, but how could they ever support a pastor, or the needed upkeep for the building. Should they close?

As those eleven people “plus Jesus” prayed and struggled with what to do, Bob suggested the idea of working with the Ohio Baptist Convention to bring a young pastor to town and see what could happen. A two-year deal was struck with the Ohio Convention. Hire a young person (which turned out to be Steve!). Give that pastor two years to turn the church around. Then—turn the building over to the denomination to sell and close, or continue the rich and historic ministry of this church within the wider community.

That was 1979, nearly 30 yeas ago. Some of us have been privileged to live that story. It is always worth retelling. Martin Luther King, Jr., changed the direction and future of this church in more ways than we might first imagine...