Bob Welch has spent the last 25 years as a writer, editor and columnist for The Register-Guard in Eugene, Oregon, where he has twice won top honors in the National Society of Newspaper Columnists contest. He has authored a plethora of books, including “Cross Purposes: One Believer’s Struggle to Reconcile the Peace of Christ with the Rage of the Far Right.” A former professor of journalism at the University of Oregon and founder of the Beachside Writers Workshop, Bob has cultivated a way with words that reaches the hearts of readers from all walks of life.

In this interview, Bob shares some of his accomplishments, from spending 148 nights hiking the Pacific Crest Trail to helping bring encouragement to aspiring writers. But he also opens up about challenges he’s endured over the years, including learning to tame the beast of pride and being “subtly shunned” by fellow believers. Bob shares his early dreams of being a sports reporter, his admiration of two great influences in the faith, Rich Mullins and Brennan Manning, and how, at 71 years of age, he’s realized that after all the words have been written and spoken, it’s “probably best to simply be the change you want to see.”

QUESTION #1: ACQUAINT

The meals we enjoy are about so much more than the food we eat. So, how does a “go-to” meal at your favorite hometown restaurant reveal the true you behind your web bio?

I’ve spent 148 nights hiking the Pacific Crest Trail from Mexico to Canada, sometimes going up to eight days without food resupply, so I can be pretty happy going to a 7-Eleven and getting a Snickers bar and a large Mountain Dew back home. That said, the favorite hangout for my wife, Sally, here in Eugene, Oregon (“Track Town, USA!”), is a nice sit-down called Sabai Cafe & Bar that specializes in Pacific Rim food. My fave? Red curry, medium spicy, with chicken. What I like about the place isn’t just the food, it’s the people — folks who make you feel welcome, aren’t pretentious, and can remember my order when I forget it. (I’m 71.) We almost always see someone we know. And a few months back, when we went to pay, a couple had already taken care of it for us. I spent 14 years as a three-times-a-week newspaper columnist here, and people remember spilling their granola on my photo while at their breakfast table. The rumors about rain in Oregon are true. “You have to go through a winter to understand,” wrote Ken Kesey in “Sometimes a Great Notion.” But summers are a delight. And I can be happy eating just about anything outdoors, especially if the Willamette River is flowing in the distance.

QUESTION #2: REVEAL

We’ve all got quirky proclivities and out-of-the-way interests. So, what are yours? What so-called "nonspiritual" activity do you love engaging in that also helps you find essential spiritual renewal?

As a writer, I go to two places that enliven, inspire and challenge me: into the lives of other people and into my own imagination. I’ve written more than 2,000 newspaper columns in the last 45 years and a couple dozen books. Every time I sit down to write, I feel an utter privilege to tell someone’s story, to describe a place — say, on the trail — that God created, and to explore what gives me hope and what causes me despair. Most of the relationships I have today aren’t because I’ve gone to church for half a century but because I’ve shared who I am with the general public in words. Because I’ve dared to get into the worlds of people who aren’t like me. Because I’ve led writers’ workshops where anyone with a passion to write is welcome. Today, for example, I got an email from an 80-year-old woman who wrote one of the funniest pieces ever read aloud at one of my Beachside Writers Workshops on the Oregon Coast. She went in for a mammogram, and the doctor got her all set up, left, and apparently forgot about her. She was, well, stuck. Like, as she described it, “a coyote in a trap.” That’s the funny part. The poignant part is she sent me a letter I’d written her telling her how great that piece of writing was. She had framed it and put it above her computer to inspire her as she writes. Sometimes we don't realize what a difference we make in other people’s lives.

QUESTION #3: CONFESS

Every superhero has a weakness; every human, too. We’re just good at faking it. But who are we kidding? We’re all broken and in this thing together. So, what’s your kryptonite and how do you confront its power head-on?

Someone once said our greatest strength is our greatest weakness when we let it go too far. As a writer, I know there’s power in the pen. Because my North Star is the Word of God, I try to be honest, fair, compassionate, loving, kind — pick from the spiritual fruit tree, right? But I also have a selfish side that just wants to “win.” That wants people to see the error of their ways. That, with all the best of my intentions, expects more from other people than I expect from myself. Sometimes being a writer can go to your head. I once took a very bold stance over an expenditure the city was going to make that involved honoring a family. I came out against the spending. Passionately. I had my reasons, but looking back, I don’t think I’d fall on my sword over this one if I had the chance to write that column again. Over time, I’ve done better in controlling the me-first beast, but from time to time, it still gets translated into bolstering my pride and hurting someone in the process. The solution, I think, is to remind myself that my identity isn’t — or shouldn’t be — in being a writer, but in being a child of God.

QUESTION #4: FIRE UP

Tell us about your toil. How are you investing your professional time right now? What’s your current obsession? And why should it be ours?

At the moment, I’m sitting in a cabin on the Oregon Coast — a place that’s been in our family since 1936 — and writing a book about, well, writing. I’ve wanted to write since I was a five-year-old kid and got a Tudor Tru-Action Electric Football Set for my birthday. Today’s computer-savvy crowd might not be able to relate to it. It was the size of a cookie sheet and ran on — thanks, Beach Boys — good vibrations. The two-inch plastic players jiggled around the field when you clicked the switch. When it broke, I was destitute. Then I began using my imagination to create games. I took the defense in one hand and the ball carrier in the other, and, pretending I was Lindsey Nelson, the only TV broadcaster I remember in the 1960s, I broadcast my own games. (To nobody but me.) Then I sat down at a portable Smith-Corona typewriter my mother gifted me and wrote a story about what had happened. My dream was to be a sports reporter, and that’s what I became, though at 27, I branched out to features writing and ultimately to column writing and book writing. (However, I still managed to write about sports, including a book, “The Wizard of Foz,” about how high-jumper Dick Fosbury, a pathetic jumper as a high school sophomore in Medford, Oregon, invented a new style that won him an Olympic gold medal in 1968 and changed the way the world's high-jumpers go over the bar — still.) At 71, it just seems like time to share all that I’ve been so fortunate to learn about writing — from other writers, from experiences I’ve had, and from books I’ve read. I probably have 150-200 books on writing and keep adding to the collection because there’s always something new to learn.

QUESTION #5: BOOST

Cashiers, CEOs, contractors, or customer service reps, we all need grace flowing into us and back out into the world. How does the Holy Spirit invigorate your work? And how do you know it's God when it happens?

I believe God gives me free will. I have a mind. I have fingers. I have a laptop. And the freedom to create good from my words or evil. Hitler had the same freedom I did. (But, of course, no laptop.) He chose to write “Mein Kampf” (1925), in which he blamed Germany's chief woes on the parliament, on the Jews, Social Democrats, Marxists and others. Some saw it as benign political theory — nothing to get your undies in a bunch about. But it was really about power, about creating good guys and bad guys. One thing I've learned from writing is that words don’t define someone — actions do. Words can be lies. Actions speak truth. And we saw how that played out with Hitler. More than six million Jews were murdered in the name of one man’s pride, and tens of millions more died in a war of his creation. When writing feature stories on people, I place a premium not on who they say they are or even who others say they are, but on how they act. How they treat others. How they act when they make a mistake. But I digress, at least a little. When I write, I try to bring glory to God in my words. If I were a baker, I’d want my sticky buns to do the same thing. I try to write stories that further Christian principles, that challenge people to care about each other, to think bigger. Often, while writing, I find the hard choices usually come down to who I want to get the glory: me or God. It’s easy to shade the truth and make yourself look better than you are. But I’ve learned I sleep better if I’m honest about my failures, if I look for the good in others, and if I love people even when I don’t want to. I often feel the Holy Spirit’s presence when I write (or what I assume is the Holy Spirit), and I often pray for direction. Maybe it’s an ethical decision. Maybe it’s noon, and I have an 850-word column due at 5 pm and still don’t have it started. Maybe it’s inspiration for an idea. But, yes, I often relate to what the British runner Eric Liddell (Chariots of Fire) tells his sister: “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run, I feel his pleasure.” When I write, I feel his pleasure.

QUESTION #6: inspire

Scripture and tradition beckon us into the rich and varied habits that open our hearts to the presence of God. So, let us in. Which spiritual practice is working best for you in this season?

These are interesting, thought-provoking questions, not the kind of things you see a lot in the Christian realm. So thanks for that. I used to think my job as a Christian was to be good, to not rock the evangelical boat, to look the part. In the last decade, I’ve learned to be a more authentic Christian, and I don’t think it has anything to do with the aforementioned things. It has to do with living each day with a sense of adventure for his glory. Every encounter with someone else. Every word I write. Every decision I make. Every prayer I pray. Every sin I confess. It all needs to be entered into with a sense of holiness, a sense of not needing to win, a sense of humility. I recently read a book called “Unoffendable” about how the world is all about people whose total focus is on avenging those who offend them. And, man, there are times — lots of times — when I want to do just that. But if you think about Jesus, especially at the end, when he went to the cross, he had every reason to be offended. He was being falsely accused. Yet he went to the cross to die for our sins rather than play the “I’m offended” card. For decades, I was surrounded by people who were so proud of the many Bible studies they attended. It was sort of a Christian version of Boy Scouts: the idea was to earn as many badges as you could, and you earned badges by doing Bible studies. Hey, I’m pro-Bible. I’m pro-Bible studies. But Bible studies are a means to an end, not an end unto themselves. The bottom line is being salt and light in a world desperate for both. If all we do is learn how to be Christians but don’t go out into the world and act like Christians — not political robots, but Christians — then are we really glorifying God? Are non-believers seeing anything in us that makes them curious about Christ? When asked what the most important commandments were, Jesus said to love God and love others (Matt. 22:37 and neighboring verses). That is what I aspire to do. I fail regularly, but that is what I aspire to do.

QUESTION #7: FOCUS

Looking backward, considering the full sweep of your unique faith journey and all you encountered along the way, what top three resources stand out to you? What changed reality and your heart?

The music of Rich Mullins, and the words of Brennan Manning. I know, total old school. But, hey, Jesus is the ultimate in old school, and we still think he’s relevant, right? First, Mullins. I liked his music; I loved his testimony. On his insistence, the profits from his tours and the sale of each album were entrusted to his church, which divided up the money, paid Rich the average salary for a laborer in the US for that year, and gave the rest to charity. Who does that anymore? Mullins was a free-spirit Christian, a guy who’d synthesized his faith not from daily devotionals but from the readings of St. Francis of Assisi. Mullins had no patience for evangelical pastors who peddled what he called “cheap faith,” the get-’em-saved, build-the-numbers, pat-yourself-on-the-back variety. Faith in Christ, he reminded me, wasn’t something you went through the motions about, nor was it always comfortable. In fact, he suggested, if it’s comfortable, it’s probably only a facsimile of the real thing. His perspective: “Jesus said whatever you do to the least of these my brothers you’ve done it to me. And this is what I’ve come to think: That if I want to identify fully with Jesus Christ, who I claim to be my Savior and Lord, the best way that I can do that is to identify with the poor. This I know will go against the teachings of all the popular evangelical preachers. But they’re just wrong. They’re not bad, they’re just wrong. Christianity is not about building an absolutely secure little niche in the world where you can live with your perfect little wife and your perfect little children in a beautiful little house where you have no gays or minority groups anywhere near you. Christianity is about learning to love like Jesus loved — and Jesus loved the poor and Jesus loved the broken-hearted.” In 1997, at forty-one, Mullins died following an automobile accident. But his testimony lives on in me.

Manning. His “Ragamuffin Gospel” revolutionized my faith. He wrote: “This book is not for the super-spiritual. It is not for the muscular Christians who have made John Wayne and not Jesus their hero. It is not for noisy, feel-good folks who manipulate Christianity into a naked appeal to emotion.” Instead, he said, the book was “written for the bedraggled, beat-up, and burnt-out. It is for the wobbly and weak-kneed who know they don’t have it altogether and are too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace. It is for the bent and bruised who feel that their lives are a grave disappointment to God. It is for smart people who know they are stupid and honest disciples who admit they are scalawags.” Manning was a Catholic priest and a forever recovering alcoholic, but his life and words were full of integrity, full of rubber-meets-the-road Christianity that's gotten lost in the political and prosperity gospel maelstroms.

We all have things we cling to to survive or even thrive in our fast-paced, techno-driven world. How have you been successful in harnessing technology to aid in your spiritual growth?

I listen to two podcasts that make me feel informed, not so alone, and encouraged: The Holy Post podcast and the Russell Moore Show podcast. Both are done by people who are humble, human, Christ-centered, funny (ok, Moore less than the butt jokes of HP!) and authentic. And I read and listen to tons of books that their guests wrote or that they otherwise tell me about. About 90 percent are winners.

QUESTION #8: dream

God’s continually stirring new things in each of us. So, give us the scoop! What’s beginning to stir in you but not yet fully awakened? What can we expect from you in the future?

In 2020, I felt the Holy Spirit leading me to write a book about how, as Christians, we need to stay focused on being the hands and feet of Jesus, not the pawns of any political party (“Cross Purposes”). It was released in December 2021. The people I aimed it toward, my fellow evangelicals, wouldn’t read it — or, if they did, wouldn’t engage me about it, even in a polite conversation over coffee. I was subtly shunned. I was the instigator. The “woke” guy. The guy working against the evangelical tribe. So what did I learn from that experience that is informing my next step? It’s probably best to simply be the change you want to see. You want your fellow believer to be more passionate about Jesus than they are their political party? Then be that guy. Walk your talk. Love your enemy. Be the hands and feet of the Lord. I’m listening intently to where God wants me to be. We left our church, a church where I had a lot of visibility and sometimes preached. At our new church, which has been incredibly welcoming, we were asked to be greeters. It’s the opposite of what I’d been doing, and I’ve come to realize that it’s exactly where God wants me to be. I love being used in new ways. I love looking at each day as an adventure. And I love using my words — spoken over coffee, written in one of the two columns I write, or written in my new book on writing — for his glory. Hiking the Pacific Crest Trail was not an exercise in overnight success; it took 11 years to complete the 2,650 miles. Glorifying God is the same deal; you gotta be in it for the long haul, and I’m privileged to be on his trail.

Bob Welch has spent decades cultivating his gift of words to glorify God, yet he shares a simple but powerful revelation: “Words can be lies. Actions speak truth.” We can easily and even unknowingly foster a disconnect between what we say we believe and what we actually do with our lives. What do our actions say about what we value? Can others see us embodying the teaching of Jesus, especially the most important commandment to love God and love others? Spend some time with the question Bob poses to us: “Are non-believers seeing anything in us that makes them curious about Christ?”

Bob Welch