Glenn Lucke, For A Shepherd Dying Young: Remembering Dustin Salter

I met Dustin Salter in my first semester at Reformed Theological Seminary in Orlando. Dustin and I were in the M.A. in Theological Studies program, both sure RTS had made a mistake in letting us in, both wanting to gain a richer, deeper knowledge of Jesus and His ways. He was almost my height (tall), and thin, and had an easy, loping way about him. He laughed easily, too, asked more questions than most, and listened. And he read endlessly.

Dustin was one of those Southerners who epitomized what is best about Southern culture—polite, well-mannered, caring about others, deferent but willing to ask challenging questions, humble yet spirited, and hungry. Like a very few that I’ve known, Dustin was the kind of Southerner who didn’t love the South and held the stigma of backwardness close to his heart. At least during our RTS days, he seemed to want to escape a world that I thought had etched him in beautiful ways, but that he saw as having rendered him intellectually behind others.

The Study Group
Dustin and I were part of a mostly inseparable foursome that did RTS together. John Jackson (Juice) and Patrick Connelly were the other two, and we all remain great friends. We were all in the MATS program, so we took almost all the same classes together. Three in particular stand out because they were a peculiar hellish ordeal all their own, because those three courses were taught by a scholar we loved and feared, Dr. Frank James. Dr. James, whom we referred to as ‘Texas Frank’ everywhere except in Dr. James’ presence, was a superb lecturer. For those who might think Church History or Systematics might define tedium, Dr. James transfixed us with the greatness of God and the ways the Spirit had worked through the saints in history. An elder at St.   Paul’s PCA, Dr. James took seriously the work of the church and the blending of heart and mind in following Christ, and all of this he brought into the classroom.

But his tests were the hellish ordeal. A student a couple of years ahead of us, Ken Aldrich, told us the secret to earning an A on Dr. James’ tests: memorize the lecture notes. “You’re kidding, right?” I asked. He wasn’t. So our study group of Dustin, Juice, Patrick and I would meet for several days before Dr. James’ mid-terms and final exams to….memorize our notes. All of ‘em. Every last concept, fact, person and date that Dr. James mentioned in lecture. Patrick and I memorized independently in quiet places, while Dustin and Juice did it together, and then all of four of us would meet repeatedly at Perkins, Denny’s and Juice’s home to drill. Amidst the intensity we learned each others’ stories and dreams and families, all in the ligature of life in Jesus. In the nearly all-nighters before the tests, when we’d had too little sleep and too much caffeine already for days, compressed by stress, we spiraled into absurdity.

 My recollection: four guys in the study group, three Dr. James courses each with mid-term and final, and we averaged about a 98 when scuttlebutt indicated that the class averages were usually in the low to mid 80s.

 Dustin wasn’t just a smart, hard-working seminary student. He was the husband of Leigh Anne, who became “Spunky L A”, and was the perfect match for Dustin. Their love and evident joy in life together, as with Juice & Judy Jackson, spoke volumes to single guys like Patrick and me. Marriage really could be this good.

 Dustin was also an athlete. Though I was slightly taller, Dustin had a wingspan, and he also had the knack for timing, meaning he blocked my shots when RTS guys played at Orangewood Presbyterian Church on certain evenings. I wasn’t used to that and did not like it one bit. Though Dustin was a talented athlete, I learned the hard way he was not up for running. I persuaded him, sort of, to join me as a regular running partner early in the morning. I think we ran three times.

 A month or so before graduating the MATS program, one of our principal mentors, Richard Pratt, took Dustin, Patrick and me to lunch. An hour later we three marched into the Registrar’s office to switch out of the MATS and into the MDiv program, which meant two more years of seminary, languages, and hermeneutics. Juice and Judy and their kids were leaving; Juice got into the DPhil program at Oxford and it was time to go.

MDiv
The MDiv years were life-changing for us. Dustin, Patrick and I learned Greek and Hebrew together, which meant more ordeals and more life lived together. We studied at “Barnes” because Dustin, the chronic abbreviator, loved Barnes & Noble which was a good 20-30 minutes across town. We learned hermeneutics, which gave rise to a hilarious story about Dustin. One day Richard Pratt was talking about the benefits of literary analysis, not instead of other forms of analysis favored by evangelicals, but in addition to them. To make a point Pratt told a story about Bruce Waltke, a huge figure in Hebrew and Hebrew Bible studies. Waltke had recently come to teach at RTS, he had learned literary analysis a few years before, and was now re-reading the Bible in light of it. Waltke—did I mention he is a huge figure in Hebrew language and Hebrew Bible studies?—told a class the week before he now felt that the text had been obscured to him all these decades, that he was only now really reading the Bible. Pratt’s story about Waltke stunned the class.

Then Dustin stunned the class. “Woo hoo! Richard! The power of a grid!” He didn’t just say it, this fairly erupted from him. As you might expect, in the context of a seminary class this loudly shouted, exuberant exclamation was startling. But he was right, and Pratt agreed that even someone as expert as Waltke could be and had been restrained by the power of his paradigm. It wasn’t that the Bible Waltke now read hadn’t been there before—the same Hebrew text was in his hands. But as Dustin said, the grid had ruled out any other way of reading the text….for decades. 

Naturally, we loved the outburst for its form as well as its content, and “Woo hoo! Power of a grid” became a saying on campus and a closing for emails and goodbyes. Dustin was embarrassed by it, but what Patrick and I and other close friends saw was Dustin’s un-self-conscious love for learning, his passion for living and for submitting his mind and heart to the Lord for reform. The story was endearing to us and also a landmark: I will never forget the story about Bruce Waltke, “the power of a grid” and reading the Bible through the lens of literary analysis. I loved that about Dustin. We all did. 

Part of the MDiv program was preaching. Dustin had presence, partly because of his physical stature, but also his humility and honesty and his many hours of study communicated a gravitas that must be reckoned with. He probably preached another sermon during the class but I remember one on the image of God. Dustin had done his biblical and theological homework and showed us from the text more acutely than we (or at least I) had realized the grandeur of our being made in God’s image and the wickedness of our fallen estate. He narrated an illustration that was later to get him into hot water when he preached this same message as his maiden sermon at the church in Fort   Worth that sponsored RUF. The illustration was from the movie Trainspotting, a scene in which a heroin addict trying to quit cold turkey fails, and then goes to extreme measures to retrieve a hit of the heroin god he worships. I think it’s fair to say that Dustin made it memorably, vividly clear how fallen the image of God is in chasing our false gods.

Originally all three of us believed we would head on to PhD programs, and Patrick and I did so. Juice was already two years into his DPhil at Oxford by our graduation. Dustin and Spunky L A, though, believed the Lord calling them into the pastorate. Dustin and Leigh Anne were invited to open the RUF ministry at TCU and off they went.

RUF at TCU
I remember Dustin telling me in phone conversations how hard it was to start this work at TCU. The Christian faith in the Reformed way does not grow well or quickly in all soils. The first year Dustin had a Bible study. I think the second year RUF at TCU was a Bible study and a bit more. Each time we talked he would repeat how hard it was to get stuff going, but that he loved hanging out with the guys and being in their lives and teaching them the Gospel. 

Dustin would speak of the RUF pastors who were really good pastors and good preachers. Greg Thompson who started the work at UVa, Brian Habig at Vanderbilt, Bill Boyd at Texas—these were the guys who were actually talented, who knew what they were doing, who were enjoying the Lord’s blessing. This was Dustin’s peculiar humility again and again. No matter how hard he worked, he saw himself as the possessor of meager talents and it was always others who really had the stuff and were really doing things right. 

So I visited several years ago. 

I stepped into a spacious room in a student center at TCU and this spacious room seemed miniscule and so packed a fire marshal might have blown the whistle. The Lord, through Dustin and Leigh Ann, had transformed the soil and out of their initial scratching and sowing the Lord had brought a harvest of over a hundred students. Undeniably it was fun to see the numbers, but Dustin never seemed to care about the numbers. What he wanted was for the men and women students to believe the Gospel, to submit to Jesus in all of life, to live Gospel-centered lives of joy and lament, obedience and repentance for disobedience, and worship. 

I was dazzled by the singing that night and even more so by the preaching. Dustin’s text that night was Romans 10 and I saw the same blend of diligent study of the text and exuberant, passionate preaching. He pled for his people to break out of holy huddles and to embrace their peers at TCU, to get into their lives, to live the Gospel among them. I don’t know how many sermons you remember from three years ago, but that one made an impression on me. 

As is my way, I grilled students before and after RUF, and then later at a dessert party that Dustin and Leigh Anne hosted for the students. I wanted to push and probe and see what difference their ministry was really making in students’ lives. Was it merely a cool ministry that had finally attained momentum at TCU? From student after student I saw on their faces and heard from their lips the health that comes from living the Gospel. They knew they were fallen, they knew they were redeemed. They were neither blasé about sin nor stuck in depression, but walking in the joy of the Gospel. I could scarcely believe such spiritual health, person after person. Joy abounded in that place. 

I drove away, marveling. Dustin, in his extreme humility, always thought the real talent and the real successes were other people in other places, but what I had just witnessed in the RUF meeting and dessert party was God at work, changing lives. It was genuinely beautiful to behold. What I saw was a shepherd who loved his sheep and was laboring with all he had to help them get the Gospel for all of life. 

I know Paul tells us that death has lost its sting, but right now, in the wake of Dustin’s death, it sure feels like sting. But I also know, right now, that my grief is not without hope. Dustin is alive because he is one with the resurrected Lord. 

One of my favorite hymns, For All the Saints, seems used by churches mostly at times of funerals. I sing it often without connection to death and funerals, but I see also its resonance for saying goodbye to a friend and shepherd dying young. 

For All the Saints
For all the saints, who from their labors rest, 
who thee by faith before the world confessed, 
thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest. 
Alleluia, Alleluia! 

Thou wast their rock, their fortress, and their might; 
thou Lord, their captain in the well-fought fight; 
thou in the darkness drear, their one true light.
Alleluia, Alleluia! 

O may thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold, 
fight as the saints who nobly fought of old, 
and win with them the victor's crown of gold. 
Alleluia, Alleluia! 

O blest communion, fellowship divine! 
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine; 
yet all are one in thee, for all are thine. 
Alleluia, Alleluia! 

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long, 
steals on the ear the distant triumph song, 
and hearts are brave again, and arms are strong. 
Alleluia, Alleluia! 

From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast, 
through gates of pearl streams in the countless host, 
singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost: 
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Comments

[Amy Lauger]

Glenn,
What a great tribute! It sounds like Dustin was a wonderful man of God.

Oh, and just to assure you, “Texas Frank” and his tests haven’t changed a bit. I’d make hundreds of flashcards and pace back and forth in my apartment for days, memorizing them. But you’re right – if you just memorized everything he said (and knew how to spell it), you were fine! After two years, I can still pull out names like Hieronymous Baumgartner!

Praying for your diss!

[Tim Udouj]

Glenn,

Thank you much for writing this. I barely knew Dustin, but in the few conversations I had with him, I walked away feeling like I just talked to the gentle giant. He possessed a humility that was evident immediately, and as a new runt in RUF he instantly made me feel as if I belonged more than he.

Last night, Rod Mays, our head coordinator asked the question that I have been pondering all morning: "Can you even imagine what Dustin is experiencing right now?"

Tim

[David Wayne]

Glenn - this is one of the most moving things I have read in a long while. I feel like I should know Dustin but I guess our paths didn't cross at RTS or if they did I just never got to know him. You have not only given us a tribute to a wonderful man, but a glimpse of God's grace.

[Dan Adamson]

Glenn- Thank you for sharing this with us. I have never met Dustin but I learned through Patrick Connelly about the accident and little about Dustin. My thoughts and prayers have been with him and his family these past months. I truly feel a loss in his death and I can't wait to meet him one day. Thank you for sharing from your heart

[Diane Armitage]

Beautifully written, and what a revealing glimpse into the life of Dustin, the seminary student! I didn't get to know him until he was at TCU and did some pulpit supply for our church (Grace Community Presby.). My kids always loved to hear his passionate preaching, and I was always so impressed with his connection to the culture.
Thanks for writing this.

[Meredith Leachman]

Glenn-
So great! I can just picture D bursting out "the power of a grid" in class! He will be missed.

[J-ho]

Glenn,
You brought back some great memories of Dustin and Leigh Anne. I stayed with them a few times for those one-week intensive courses and we always had a blast. They were some of the most hospitable people I've met.
None of us in that class will ever forget that wonderful "power of a grid" day!
Thanks for writing this. Guys like Dustin need to be celebrated!

Justin

[Glenn Fincher]

Brother, we share a first name, and an eternal one in Christ.

I never knew Dustin, but his sermon on Providence and the walk that Leigh Ann has been on these many months have given strength to my family through similar experiences. My brother in law was injured in an assault about two weeks before Dustin's accident, and through the long months since, Dustin's sermon has called us to our loving Father and kept us hoping in Him. We are forever knit by our common circumstances and I long to meet my brother Dustin in glory.

Under the Mercy,

Glenn Fincher

[Richard Pratt]

Thank you for reminding us of Dustin's gifts and faithfulness. His absence from the church on earth will be felt for years to come. I am grieved for his lovely family and for the church he served so faithfully. His untimely departure reminds us all of how short life is and how important it is to seize every opportunity God gives us for service.

[scott cunningham]

Thank you so much for this Glenn.

[Rachel Vendsel]

Glenn,

Thank you for this loving tribute to a precious brother who is with his Lord now. I worked with the RUF across town at SMU for five years and went on many a fall and spring retreat with Dustin. He also drove across town to seminary classes at Westminster, always with 2 or 3 TCU students in tow... his love of learning never flagged. I'll always remember waking up at the crack of dawn to take David Rea and Dustin to the airport one cold morning. David was huddled inside reapeating, "I love my gloves" and Dustin was outside clapping his hands in the air and singing at the top of his lungs, "In the FROSTY AIR!!" He loved the cold. He was enthusiastic, kind, generous, and always pointed those around him to Christ. We will miss him indeed. I truly enjoyed these reflections on your friendship. May the God of peace comfort you, the Salter family, and all who are grieving Dustin's passing.

[Tim Fary]

Glen:
Fary here. You may remember me from RTS. Thanks. I was sitting at my desk in the Al Anbar province contemplating (selfishly) "why?" That's rarely a healthy exercise for me, except that I'm reminded of my place in the whole potter/clay thing. Your tribute is beautiful, and ministered to me. I weep with you brother, but not like those without hope.
-T

[dan claire]

Thanks Glenn. This reminds me of a couple of great memories.

One. Leigh Anne going into labor at Florida Hospital in Orlando, giving birth to Jacob. Elise and I popped over to be with them at the beginning. Leigh Anne was terrified of needles and she was about to have an IV started. While the nurse prepared her arm, Dustin held her other hand and got her full attention by singing the Westminster Shorter Catechism in his best Spanglish. Leigh Anne had to sing along and forget about her worries.

Two. Floor seats at the O-Rena for an Orlando Magic game, me and Elise, Dustin and Leigh Anne. We were in folding chairs literally right behind the basket. Dustin had scored the seats through a connection with a TV producer. The visitors were the Minnesota Timberwolves, who had recently acquired Kevin Garnett. There was some controversy about him that year because he was the first NBA player drafted directly out of high school in 20 years. Dustin was tall, but Garnett was taller (6'11") and thicker at 250 lbs. But Dustin was fearless. Every time Garnett would drive inside for a layup, Dustin would stand and shout, "Go back to high school, Garnett!" Leigh Anne was cool with this. I was terrified. Then here comes Garnett on a fast break, a shot and a foul, and a jumble of huge NBA stars crashing into our chairs. Garnett untangles, looks at us, and goes back out onto the court to resume play. We set our chairs back up, and Dustin gets right back into the game: "Go back to high school, Garnett!"

Fearlessness combined with great humility were the makings for a great pastor, husband and friend. Now he has joined the great cloud of witnesses and is cheering us on with even greater determination.

[Robyn Humphreys]

Thanks for sharing Dustin with us from his RTS days. It is funny to know the same man who never changed a bit from school to TCU RUF Minister. All of us here loved his bursts of laughter, the chicken-wing, his amuzement of people who hated cold weather, and never lack of a song or movie line. He only made us smile. I aim to be that humbled by God's love and grace.

[Ben Graber]

I don't recall if you grilled me, but I would have been one of those hundred-odd students that night you came to visit.

Thank you so much.

[GL]

Dan, Rachel,

Thank you for those great stories! Leigh Anne emailed to say she was reading and laughing amidst tears.

Keep the stories coming. I'm alternately overcome with sadness and then later celebrating Dustin's life and present joy, and these stories are wonderful for celebrating. Perhaps some of you who were Dustin's TCU students will jump in and tell us your stories of Dustin.

[Jacquelyn Saunders]

Thank you, Glenn. That was beautiful. I broke out of my grid in re-reading "For All the Saints."

[martha belden]

hi glenn,

thank you so much for writing this. what wonderful memories of a man we all loved so much. i can hear him laughing at the stories you and other have told. i will miss his preaching more than i can say, but i'm overcome with joy imagining him grilling the Lord about all that he didn't understand and singing in worship before Him.

two of my favorite memories of dustin: dustin (as all of us know) LOVED to sing and would do so often (always slight off key, but loud and without hesitancy). for some reason, while we were in new york city, he was particularly inclined to break into song. we would be standing in the subway station, waiting for the next train, and dustin would suddenly hear a word and start singing a song that included the word. of course, as we were all obviously tourists and dustin was obviously not a street performer, you can imagine we got quite a few odd looks. but he was never embarrassed, and many of the guys on the trip would soon be singing along and dancing around the station.
on the plane from houston to peru, there was a period during which the lights were turned down and virtually everyone was asleep. i don't remember whether he was watching an on-flight movie or if someone was telling dustin a story, but all of a sudden dustin blasted out one of his shotgun laughs, and the entire airplane was startled awake at the sound. at the time, i think many of us were slightly embarrassed and jokingly pretended we didn't know him... but i also know that any one of us would gladly go back in time and proudly declare we were friends and students of the man who made such a glorious sound if only we were given the chance.

thank you again for sharing such a beautiful tribute. i'll miss dustin until the day we are reunited in glory, and i weep for his family. but he lived an amazing life, and i envy the wonder he must be experiencing at this very moment.

in awe of Him
~martha

[Ben Graber]

I distinctly remember one core group meeting when Dustin was being even more ADD than usual. For who knows what reason, there was a skateboard lying around in the house where we met, so Dustin - while leading the meeting! - was on this skateboard, pushing himself back and forth between two walls, rolling maybe ten feet each way.

In the end we all got so distracted and kind of motion-sick from trying to listen to him while he rolled back and forth that we yelled at him and made him get off the skateboard, whereupon he began holding it like a rifle and aiming at whomever he called on the answer a question or volunteer for some task.

[Patrick Connelly]

Glenn,
Thanks so much for rekindling those fond memories of the Study Group! I can't agree enough about what an impact Dustin and Leigh Anne had on us as single guys watching their marriage. Seeing the deep love, respect and friendship between them sticks with me to this day. You really captured Dustin's humility, humor, intellectual hunger, engaging personality, and passion for the gospel.

I first met Dustin when a mutual friend invited the both of us to see 'Pulp Fiction'! Dustin and I both were a little shellshocked afterwards, but a friendship began. I loved the times at Sweetwater Coffee Shop, meals over at the Salter house, and let's not forget Dustin's passion for hot, fresh Krispy Kreme doughnuts--and a willingness to drive almost an hour to Daytona for them. Also the joy when they found out they were pregnant with Jacob, who when he came was called Charlie Brown thanks to that shiny bald head.

I grieve with everyone, especially Leigh Anne and the kids, for this incredibly sad loss. And yet I concur with fellow commenters that the astonishing hope of the resurrection redeems our grief. Dustin is home and we will join him. Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. Amen.

[Mike Glodo]

I remember coffee at Sweetwater Coffee Co. and Dustin pronouncing the "-ing" on the end of words - like Forrest Gump, only a little more subtle.

[steve riser]

Glenn

Thanks so much for telling some of Dustin's stories. I am friends with Patrick and know Glenn and many of those you mention. I only met Dustin a few times but I always remember him being a man of kind strength. I will continue to keep Leigh Anne and the family in my prayers during this time of grieving.

[David Kirkendall]

What a trip down memory lane ... I remember Dustin telling me after-the-fact about the "power of a grid!" He shouted it then too, and he followed it with what I can only guess was the same pink-cheeked chagrin that prevailed at the original incident. I prefer to think of it as a radiance - Dustin always filled the room with his unassuming presence.

I remember most how "Dusty Road" (as I sometimes called him) exuded a rather elusive, rarely seen quality ... a sort of second naivete (adapted from a quote by Dr. Bruce Waltke). He loved to read, to question everything, to absorb and examine. He was far more intelligent than noticeable at first meeting. And yes, he was humble, maybe even self-deprecating at times. He was definitely exuberant, his zest for life often exploding out from wherever he tried to contain it. Yet, it was the Gestalt of how these combined in him that produced this truly unique quality I hope to emulate. On the other side of his passion to learn and his critical examination of more challenging questions, Dustin would emerge a hope-filled, bright-eyed believer! He always rediscovered eternal truth for the very first time.

Dustin's ever-new appreciation for the beauty and truth of the Gospel still astounds me. Just taking the time to reflect over my memories, and over the entries in this blog, strengthens in me today the zest for my own experience of a second naivete ... i.e. I want to be a bright-eyed believer again.

[Shawn Doud]

Glenn,

Thanks for Common Grounds, the book and site, and for telling us about Dustin. I heard him preach maybe twice in Dallas while in Seminary and under care of North Texas Presbytery. His big humility and joyful confidence in Christ and his power and truth struck me even all these years down the line.

God has healed Dustin provisionally until the renewal of all things, but we will plead for mercy and grace for his family.

Thanks for honoring Christ and our brother this way.

[Melissa Kurtz]

It seems that death has been too frequent a companion for many in recent days, especially in the RTS community. This picture of Dustin's story and his obvious life of humility and service moved me. Thank you for telling it. It seems fitting that we hold the life-giving stories of those we miss together with our grief for now while we look toward that day when all our tears will be wiped away. May God grant abundant peace and comfort to all those who mourn this brother, husband, pastor, and friend.