Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

At Trinity Family Game Night: Thou shalt laugh January 13, 2013

“TRICK OR TREAT,” I blurted upon my turn, realizing in the very moment I shouted those words that I had erred big time, as in a major brain fart moment.

My teammates’ mouths dropped. Their laughter chastised, mocked me. I could hear their question—“What were you thinking, Audrey?”—even though they dared not speak it aloud in the church fellowship hall setting. They exercised that bit of restrained Christian charity.

But I deserved the laughter. Who would respond “trick or treat” to a Family Feud question about a popular holiday greeting? Me.

First, the specific Family Feud game version we were playing focused on Christmas, a theme I failed to remember. Second, Halloween may be a holiday for kids, but not officially.

Thus went the annual Trinity Lutheran Church, Faribault, Family Game Night Christmas Party on Saturday, an event that always brings laughter. Lyda, who attended with her husband, Sean, and daughters, Rosemary and Anne, summarized the get together quite well in an email thank you to party planner Billie Jo. “We haven’t laughed this much in a long time,” Lyda wrote. Me either.

Laughter is good for the soul, even if the laughter is sometimes because of you.

Mandy, left, and Billie Jo vie to open a gift wrapped in multiple layers of boxes and wrapping paper and secured with layers of duct and packaging tape.

Mandy, left, and Billie Jo vie to open a gift wrapped in multiple layers of boxes and wrapping paper and secured with layers of duct and packaging tape. Rules called for contestants to dress in scarves, hats and mittens before attempting to open the gift.

From the exchange of white elephant gifts (more on that shortly) to the drawing of a Christmas scene upon a paper plate placed atop our heads, to tearing snowmen from paper tucked behind our backs to the pushing/near-wrestling/grabbing involved in the competitive unwrapping of a single gift secured in layers of paper and rolls of duct and packaging tapes to parceling M & Ms into bowls, the evening’s activities showcased comedic competitiveness.

Racing to sort M & Ms by color is not as easy as it looks.

Racing to sort M & Ms by color is not as easy as it looks.

Honestly, you would not expect grown-ups to behave like this, especially in church. But, and this is just my thought, I think sometimes we all need to act like kids, to let loose and freewheel our way through life, if but for a few moments.

We competed for prize packages like this snowman poop.

We competed for prize packages like this snowman poop.

Now if you’re thinking my Family Feud Halloween stupidity rates as the evening’s most memorable moment, you would be wrong. It ties with Jeff’s unwrapping of a white elephant gift which has become a Family Game Night Christmas Party tradition. For years, a gaudy holiday photo frame has circulated into the gift exchange. And, at some point, photos were added. Unbeknownst to Jeff, he grabbed the wrapped photo frame.

I knew, just knew, that my friend Jesse (who is a doctor, but not a medical doctor—so says his son Noah) would wrack his brilliant librarian brain until he came up with an incredibly creative photo to insert into the frame. Little did I know that my husband and I would be the subjects of Jesse’s creative efforts.

Jesse totally outdid himself. We party-goers erupted into thunderous laughter upon seeing his version of artist Grant Wood’s American Gothic.

The modern day version of Grant Wood's American Gothic painting was created by artist Jesse and features my husband and me. Outstanding, isn't it?

This modern day version of Grant Wood’s American Gothic painting was created by artist Jesse and features my husband and me. Outstanding, isn’t it? The garish frame will be regifted next year with a new photo inserted.

The only disappointment was that Jesse could not witness our reaction; he was home with his two youngest children who were ill. However, I asked Jesse’s wife, Tammy, to tell him I would be seeking revenge, to which there was some response about revenge belonging to the Lord. OK then, get back at/get even.

And I can get even, because that hideous photo frame is now in my possession. Yes, I actually stole the frame from Jeff at one point during the game because I really did not need a silverware tray from a dishwasher or two can coolers. My husband later stole this from Jeff—apparently for the can coolers.

I expect we broke many of the 10 Commandments Saturday evening what with stealing, infliction of bodily harm, mocking, maybe even coveting of some gifts, over-indulgence (ahem, consumption of too much chocolate)…

But we redeemed ourselves with laughter and with love.

Another of the wonderful prizes awarded to game winners.

Another of the coveted prizes awarded to game winners.

© Copyright 2013 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Keep Christ in Christmas December 24, 2012

REMINDING MOTORISTS traveling in southwestern Minnesota of the real reason for Christmas is this billboard along U.S. Highway 14 just east of Springfield.

Billboard, Christmas

Thank you, St. Raphael’s Knights of Columbus Council #2769 of Springfield for sponsoring this message.

Well done.

Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Appreciating the beautiful craftsmanship of a Minnesota church December 23, 2012

A snippet of the pews and beautiful stained glass window.

A snippet of the pews and beautiful stained glass windows.

THE PEWS ARC in graceful curves in this holy house where the muted grey gloom of a December afternoon filters through the western wall of stained glass windows.

Just another interior view, looking toward the balcony.

Just another interior view, looking toward the balcony.

Dark wood fills this place. If not for the glorious side windows and the stained glass dome, darkness would prevail.

Focusing on the altar area and the eastern stained glass window.

Focusing on the altar area and the eastern stained glass windows.

Like so many churches in my southeastern Minnesota community, Fourth Avenue United Methodist Church in Faribault is steeped in history, bathed in beauty. One need only stand within this sanctuary, dedicated in December 1915, to feel the overpowering influence of the past in fine craftsmanship.

The obvious Greek influence in the church architecture.

The obvious Greek influence in the church architecture.

It is humbling to consider the hours devoted with hands-on manual labor to create such a reverent place resembling a Greek temple, particularly noticeable in the exterior stately Tuscan style columns.

I don’t pretend to know much about architecture.

But I do recognize beauty.

Looking up at a Christmas star suspended from the center stained glass dome.

Looking up at a Christmas star suspended from the center stained glass dome.

Three sets of heavy wooden doors lead into the sanctuary. To read about the Community Christmas Dinner, check my December 17 post.

Three sets of heavy wooden doors lead into the sanctuary. To read about the Fourth Avenue United Methodist Church annual Community Christmas Dinner, check my December 17 post.

Another view of the sanctuary.

Another view of the sanctuary.

Editing tools were applied to this photo of Mary and Joseph, lending a dreamy quality to the image.

Editing tools were applied to this photo of Mary and Joseph, lending a dreamy quality to the image.

I noticed this message posted in a church hallway.

I noticed this message posted in a church hallway.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

All about caring & community at the church basement Christmas dinner December 17, 2012

We hung up our coats and headed to that doorway into the basement dining room.

Guests hung up their coats before heading for the dining room.

WE SHRUGGED OFF our winter coats, my husband and I, and secured them onto hooks before following the tantalizing aroma of turkey and meatballs into the church basement dining area.

My meal, minus the cranberries, bread and cake which were also served.

My meal, minus the cranberries, bread and cake which were also served.

I grabbed a plate and the volunteers passed it down the line, spooning on mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, turkey and two Swedish meatballs.

Then I heard the clatter, the sound of a cane falling upon tile and saw the elderly man directly behind me lying face down, motionless, on the floor between the serving line and the table for take-outs.

Volunteers expected to serve around 225 diners at the free Community Christmas Dinner. A free will offering could be given.

Volunteers expected to serve around 225 diners at the free Community Christmas Dinner. A free will offering could be given.

“Call 911,” I ordered my husband. I knew, given my hearing loss, that I wouldn’t be able to hear above the drone of conversation filling the basement at the Fourth Avenue United Methodist Church Community Christmas Dinner.

A sampling of the volunteer crew it takes to put on the Christmas dinner.

A sampling of the volunteer crew it takes to put on the Christmas dinner.

At some point, a server took the plate from my hand. “Give it to someone else,” I said.

“Is there a nurse here?” I asked as a cluster gathered around the fallen man. I mostly wanted someone to be with him, down there on the floor, comforting him until the paramedics arrived. And there was and that relieved me although I was still very much worried.

I felt helpless standing there, camera bag slung over one shoulder, camera on the other. I couldn’t simply take back my plate, sit down like nothing had happened and enjoy my Christmas meal.

Eventually, the man was eased off the floor and onto a chair and I sought out my husband who stood outside the glass doors in the bitter cold talking on the phone with the emergency dispatcher. I relayed that the man was now sitting and alert. And I wondered why the rescue squad had not yet arrived from two blocks away, knowing full well from personal experience that time seems to stand still when you are in need of emergency services.

And so the story ended. No broken bones. No heart attack. Not even shattered eyeglasses as the unsteady aged man tripped on a table leg and plunged forward, his fall broken only by the shoe of the woman scooping mashed potatoes at the beginning of the serving line.

If not for that shoe, he would have smashed face first onto the tile.

It seemed a Christmas miracle.

And so I stepped back into the serving line, the crew filling my plate for the second time. I pondered how grateful I am to live in a community where volunteers cook and serve savory meals in church basements and, when in a time of need, are there to comfort and assist.

Friends gave friends rides to and from the church dinner.

Friends gave friends rides to and from the church dinner.

The beautiful Fourth Avenue United Methodist Church in Faribault. I'll take you inside the sanctuary in a follow-up post.

The beautiful Fourth Avenue United Methodist Church in Faribault. I’ll take you inside the sanctuary in a follow-up post.

Coffee maker Dan Tersteeg mans the coffee corner. The coffee makers always use Folgers coffee, he says, because it works best with Faribault's water.

Coffee maker Dan Tersteeg mans the coffee corner. The coffee makers always use Folgers, he says, because it works best with Faribault’s water.

I noticed this full coffee cup setting on a cupboard lined with holiday decorations. During the congregation's Lenten soup luncheons, desserts fill the shelves.

I noticed this full coffee cup sitting on a cupboard lined with holiday decorations. During the congregation’s Lenten soup luncheons, desserts fill the shelves.

Inside a room labeled "Fourth Avenue Room," where women were slicing Christmas cake, among other tasks, I found this sign posted.

Inside a room labeled “Fourth Avenue Room,” where women were slicing Christmas cake, among other tasks, I found this humorous sign posted.

And then these directions, too, posted, perhaps, by the boss?

And then these directions, too, posted, perhaps, by the boss?

In the kitchen, a team of workers tended the food and washed the dishes, etc.

In the kitchen, a team of workers tended the food and washed the dishes, etc.

And another worker handed out Christmas cake.

Another worker handed out slices of festive and delicious Christmas cake.

Diners enjoyed each other's company and observed the goings-on.

Diners enjoyed each other’s company and observed the goings-on.

Some of the guests took home gifts of poinsettias which served as table centerpieces.

Some of the guests took home gifts of poinsettias which served as table centerpieces.

A street-side sign welcomes diners to the free Community Christmas dinner.

A street-side sign welcomes diners to the free Community Christmas dinner.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Rejoicing in the Sunday School Christmas Program December 16, 2012

Sunday School students at Trinity Lutheran Church, Faribault, present the Christmas story Saturday evening.

Sunday School students at Trinity Lutheran Church, Faribault, present the Christmas story Saturday evening.

EMBEDDED DEEP in the memories of, I expect, many Midwestern Baby Boomers like me is the rich tradition of the Sunday School Christmas program.

There is simply nothing sweeter, nothing more meaningful to me, than viewing the Christmas story from the perspective of a child. Such telling, such re-enacting of the biblical account of Christ’s birth exorcises the frills, the stress, the hustle and bustle, the worldliness from my holiday experience. And that is a good thing.

Every little girl wants to portray an angel...

Every little girl wants to portray an angel…

For one evening, for one hour, I take it all in—this most basic sharing of the gospel by darling angels in glittery halos and restless wings, by usually rambunctious boys cinched in bath robes, by the honored two portraying Mary and Joseph, by the other children who sing and tell of Jesus’ birth.

Dressed in holiday finery, the little ones wait in the fellowship hall before the start of the worship service.

Dressed in holiday finery, the little ones wait in the fellowship hall before the start of the worship service.

It is a magical time, a butterflies-in-your-stomach worship service for the children, giddy with joy yet nervous about stepping before the congregation,.

I grew up with the Sunday School Christmas Program, lined up on the basement steps of the old wood-frame church in Vesta packed shoulder to shoulder with my classmates, awaiting that moment when the organist would begin playing “O Come, All Ye Faithful” and we would enter, pair-by-pair, into the sanctuary.

An angel proclaims the news of Christ's birth.

An angel proclaims the news of Christ’s birth.

Although costumed pageantry was not allowed in the conservative Lutheran church of my youth, I remember with fondness those traditional Christmas hymns—“Away in a Manger,” “Joy to the World,” “Behold, A Branch is Growing,” “O Little Town of Bethlehem”—which told of Christ’s birth as did the memorized sharing of the gospel when we each “spoke our piece.”

I always prayed I would never be assigned to recite the confusing verse: So Joseph went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David…

And so the years passed until I outgrew the Sunday School Christmas program.

The cast from the biblical account of the Savior's birth.

The cast from the biblical account of the Savior’s birth.

Decades later I would pass the tradition along to my own three children, this time in a Lutheran church which allowed the costumed pageantry of sharing the biblical account of the Savior’s birth. The halos and bathrobes, the reading of the gospel, the singing of Christmas hymns all wove into their memories.

Now I am at that place in my life when I sit side-by-side with my husband in a pew, our children grown and gone, not yet married, awaiting those Christmases when the tradition of the Sunday School Christmas Program will pass along to the next generation.

After the service, my friends' children, Nevaeh (Mary) and Braxton, pose for photos in the fellowship hall.

After the service, my friends’ children, Nevaeh (Mary) and Braxton, pose for photos in the fellowship hall.

TELL ME, is a Sunday School Christmas Program (or something similar) part of your Christmas experience? Do you have such fond memories from your youth?

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Four reasons to be thankful November 21, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:01 AM
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FOUR. It’s a four-letter word. One. Two. Three. Four.

Today I present to you four good reasons why I am thankful.

My husband, Randy, left to right, daughter Miranda, son Caleb, daughter Amber and me in a photo taken after Caleb’s high school graduation in June. The photographer is Marc, Amber’s boyfriend, another blessing in our family this year.

FAMILY: Hands down, family is among the most treasured of my blessings. I have a husband who loves and supports me (in more ways than one) and always, always encourages me. My three children (now all officially adults) are also loving and caring and just the best, and fill my mother’s heart to overflowing with love.

My extended family’s pretty great, too. I credit my mom, who turned 80 this year (so thankful to still have her in my life), for passing along her faith and compassion to me.

FRIENDS: For years, a group of us have met for bible study twice a month in each others’ homes. We’ve shared laughter and tears, given each other support and hope and prayed for one another and for those we know and love. Comforting peace comes from being held in the circle of such deep and caring friendship.

I have been blessed with many more friends, beyond this close group, who have woven their way into my heart and life. And that includes many of you readers out there whom I’ve never met.

A photo of Christ’s face from a stained glass window in my church, Trinity Lutheran, Faribault.

FAITH: Short and simple, my faith in God sustains me and gives me hope and joy.

A screen shot of the Tuesday, June 12, 2012, Freshly Pressed on the WordPress homepage. My post is featured in the bottom center. I’ve been Freshly Pressed twice since I began blogging, meaning my posts were chosen, for a single day, as among the top 10 WordPress posts in the world.

FANS: Perhaps “fans” is not the correct word for you, my readers. But since I’m going with “f” words here, I chose “fans.”

Because of you, I am encouraged daily to continue blogging, to share via words and photos the discoveries I make and my thoughts on life. You pushed my total monthly views to an all-time high of 28,467 in October and to a current average daily view of 940. I expect to surpass more than one-quarter of a million total views for 2012, more than 250,000 views in just this single year.

Amazing.

Thank you.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The inspiring art of Richard Vilendrer October 28, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:55 AM
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IF YOU HAVE ANYTHING in your life weighing you down today, and I mean anything, then you need to watch a You Tube video, “The Artwork of Richard Vilendrer.” (Click here to view.)

Richard is a 73-year-old Faribault artist who uses a ballpoint pen and colored pencils and a technique called cross hatching to create the most uplifting and inspiring art. He draws subjects like flowers, leaves, crosses, stained glass and more, integrating religious themes.

An example of Richard’s nature and faith-inspired pen-and-ink and colored pencil artwork.

In fine and precise block print, Richard often incorporates a message: GOD’S GREAT LOVE HOLDS EVERYTHING IN EXISTENCE or I AM THE BREAD OF LIFE or MAY THE PEACE OF JESUS BE WITH YOU ALL.

I first discovered Richard’s art about a year ago at the Faribault Farmers’ Market where Carol Vilendrer was selling her husband’s work, and I hesitate to call his art “work.” Passion would be a more accurate description, I later learned in a phone interview with Richard. That led to a blog post, which you can read by clicking here.

Recently, Carol tipped me off to the You Tube video created by the Vilendrers’ daughter, Rebecca Quidley, who is pursuing a Bachelor of Arts degree with an emphasis on arts at a North Carolina community college. As a class assignment, Rebecca had to write about someone who inspired her in life. She chose to write about her father.

When you view this video, you will understand why Rebecca chose Richard because, I promise, you will be inspired. You see, Richard suffered a stroke while vacationing in October 2010 and was paralyzed on his right side. Fortunately, he is left-handed. Richard underwent intense physical therapy to recover. The video shows that recovery process.

Daughter Rebecca writes in her video that, after the stroke, her dad drew with more passion and fervor than ever. That shows.

He draws in a small room—a bedroom before the kids left home—at a drawing table.

Childhood memories, daily life and his faith in God inspire Richard in his art.

Right now, watch “The Artwork of Richard Vilendrer” and be inspired. Your day will be better for having done so.

Scripture and Christian songs also inspire Richard.

FYI: Richard’s given four drawings to his church, Divine Mercy, and one was purchased by the Friends of the Library, on display at Buckham Memorial Library in Faribault. Half-fold greeting cards are sold at a downtown Faribault consignment shop, Fabulous Finds. Richard’s prints and cards are also sold at events with all proceeds given to the American Cancer Society.

© Text copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
All artwork copyright of Richard Vilendrer and photographed with permission

 

The comfortable familiarity of Freedom August 19, 2012

IF YOU’VE EVER STEPPED inside a building and felt like you’d been there before, but you haven’t, then you can relate to the story I am about to share in photos and conversation. Come on. Let’s open the door and enter Immanuel Lutheran Church, Freedom Township, rural Janesville.

Ah, the double front doors are locked. We’ll try the side door. Good, it’s open. I wonder if there’s an alarm system. I don’t want the Waseca County Sheriff showing up. Let’s go up the stairs to the main level.

Now where are the light switches? Oh, right there next to the guest register. I like that old light by the guest book. Wonder if it works? Nope. Sorry, almost anything can distract me.

Even with the lights on, it’s kind of dark in here. Maybe we should open the shades. There, that’s better.

That altar and Jesus statue look familiar. They remind me of the altar and statue in St. John’s Lutheran Church, Vesta, the church where I grew up. And isn’t that organ a beauty?

I wonder if there’s a nice wood floor under that carpet. And what’s hiding under all those ceiling tiles?

Well, instead of standing here wondering, we better keep moving along if we’re going to get to the mission festival at Marquardt’s Grove by 10:30. I have much to see yet and photograph.

But wait a minute, what’s that over there on that post? An old thermometer. Huh, wonder how long that’s been here?

Alright, let’s head upstairs and see what’s in the balcony. It’s kind of tempting to pull that bell rope, isn’t it? Don’t worry, I’ve never given in to such temptation.

But I will move that wastebasket and stack of Vacation Bible School supplies so I can photograph that time-worn bench. Need to let a little natural light in, though, so I’ll pull up the shades. That’s better.

Oh, my goodness, look at those stars on that attendance sheet. I haven’t thought about those shiny, sticky stars in decades. I remember when my Sunday School teacher awarded stars for attendance. I thought they were the greatest thing. The memories…

Time to head down to the basement after I take a few more pictures up here. Yes, I have got a good grip on my camera. I don’t want it tumbling over the balcony railing.

Now, down to the basement we go. I need to pause here for a minute and take it all in.

Those curtains—see those curtains there—St. John’s had those in the basement, too. The curtains divided the basement into classrooms for Sunday School. I didn’t know churches still used those. I can almost hear the grating sound of those curtains closing and opening and remember how we kids had to take turns pulling the fabric closed, then open, at the end of Sunday School. Sweet memories…

Well, I better stop reminiscing because it’s after 10 a.m. and we do need to get to that worship service down the road in the cow pasture.

But, wait, I see one more thing I need to photograph…those lambs representing baptized children…

FYI: Immanuel Lutheran Church, commonly known as Freedom Church because of its location in Freedom Township, is located along Waseca County Road 3 about nine miles south of Janesville. Founded in 1874, this Lutheran Church Missouri Synod congregation has a total baptized and communicant membership of 114.

The organ in the church, interestingly enough, came from Trinity Lutheran Church in Faribault where I have been a member for 30 years. When Trinity upgraded to another organ in 1911, the old organ was moved on a sled pulled by oxen some 40 miles to Freedom Church.

Freedom Church is not typically unlocked, but was open on the Sunday of my visit so members could leave food in the church basement for the mission festival potluck, according to member Joan Quiram. A big thank you to Joan for inviting me to the annual mission festival of Freedom and Wilton churches. You can read and view photos of that event by clicking here and then here.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Photographing a mission festival near Janesville August 9, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:57 AM
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WHEN I PHOTOGRAPH an event such as the mission festival last Sunday at Marquardt’s Grove, rural Janesville, I slip into my sleuth persona. Hey, I read Nancy Drew mysteries as a young girl, what can I say?

The overall scene at Sunday’s mission fest, looking toward the stage and worship areas.

Perhaps it’s not as much sleuthing as observing which, I suppose, is the essential component of good detective work. First I’ll view the big picture, the overall scene. And then I’ll begin to break it down, to notice the details.

It takes concentration, effort, and an ability to understand the smaller parts which, pieced together, comprise the whole.

This I do all the while also trying to remember what I am hearing and the general mood of the setting. It is not easy because I sometimes become so zoned in on shooting images that I shut down my other senses.

The other challenge comes in being respectful to those attending such events. On Sunday I was especially concerned about that given this was a worship service. I think, I hope, that after awhile worshipers no longer noticed me slinking around trees, weaving my way past temporary plank pews or pointing my camera down at their hands and toward their faces.

Yes, I expect observers sometimes wonder what exactly I am photographing. Digital photography has unleashed my creativity. I aim to tell a story with my photos, to take you there, to show you the details that make life especially interesting.

Here then are some of my detailed photos—the ones you likely would not think of taking—from the mission festival of Freedom and Wilton Lutheran churches.

The first detail: the sign on the front steps of Freedom Church about a mile from the mission site in Marquardt’s Grove.

The jacks, as they are termed, which hold the planks in place, have been used for some 60 years. The planks, for the “pews,” are borrowed from a local lumberyard and then returned after the mission festival.

Sharlou Quiram measured the makeshift altar before crafting a cross design quilt of satins, velvets and brocades nearly 10 years ago. It hides the altar, “a bunch of really old board nailed together,” says Len Marquardt, and in use for 60 years. Flowers come from parishioners’ gardens, patios, decks, yards.

When I took this photo of the choir, I was aiming to emphasize the outdoor setting in the woods.

Vintage pocket-size songbooks were boxed and stashed on the stage behind the Freedom Band. The first hymn of the day was “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty.” At the end of the service these books, which have been used for decades, were collected.

Some of the music used by the Freedom Band was transposed decades ago from a hymnal.

Ava, 15 months, hangs out at the pop and candy stand with her dad, Ben.

A 12-volt battery and converter amplifier powered the speaker system for the worship service.

Desserts, including coveted homemade blueberry pie, and an abundance of main dishes and salads lined makeshift tables (boards supported by sawhorses) at the potluck following the worship service.

Enjoying the potluck dinner in Marquardt’s Grove while diners wait in line to dish up food. The vivid colors, the contrast of neon orange and hot pink, caught my visual interest as I captured this photo.

That’s exactly what you think it is, an outhouse in the woods, built from old barn boards. Follow the cow trail and you’re there. The outhouse is meticulously scrubbed every year before the mission fest. The grounds are also cleaned by volunteers who pick up the cow poop and sticks and then mow portions of the pasture as needed. Lynne Holst, wife of guest pastor, the Rev. Dr. Robert Holst, told my husband an interesting story about outhouses. When the Holst family served as missionaries in New Guinea from 1962 – 1968, Pastor Holst asked his wife what she wanted as a birthday gift one year. She thought, then replied, “A new outhouse.” She got her wish.

FYI: Click here to read an earlier blog post about the mission festival.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

In southern Minnesota: “An old-time mission festival out in the woods” August 7, 2012

A sign marks the mission festival site at Marquardt’s Grove where cattle gates to the pasture are opened to allow entry. That’s the dry bed of Bull Run Creek on the left.

AT 8 A.M. SUNDAY, Harold Krienke swung his truck into Marquardt’s Grove some 10 miles south of Janesville to help set up for the annual mission festival in the woods near his country church, Immanuel Lutheran.

It was then he spotted the large black cat with the long tail edging dried up Bull Run Creek some 100 feet from the site where worshipers would gather 2 ½ hours later. “It wasn’t a house cat,” Krienke laughs. The cat—perhaps a panther, some speculate—didn’t scare him; it had been seen previously in the area.

Krienke’s animal encounter certainly wasn’t the first, and won’t be the last, at this mission festival held for the past 75 years in a five-acre wooded section of a 70-acre pasture where cattle still graze days before the event. Last year several head of cattle busted through an electric fence and charged across the creek toward the worship site. Another time horses caused a bit of trouble. No harm done, though, as the wayward animals were chased away.

Len Marquardt, who owns the woodlot and pasture, previously owned by his father, Alfred, and Alfred’s father, Gustav, before him, takes it all in stride. A few wandering animals won’t stop him from continuing the tradition of three generations of his family hosting the long-time festival of Freedom Church, as it is commonly known (referencing its location in Freedom Township), and the past two years in conjunction with Trinity Lutheran Church, Wilton Township, also known as the Wilton Church.

An overview of the worship site with the Freedom Band seated on the stage and the audience seated on plank benches and lawn chairs on the hillside. Freedom and Trinity Pastor Glenn Korb is standing at the makeshift altar.

Len’s heart and soul are committed to what he defines as “an old-time mission festival out in the woods.”

That definition seems apt for this event which, many Freedom members estimate, has been ongoing for a century. In the early days, area farmers took turns hosting the annual summer mission festival. The outdoor worship service has always been held around the same time of year, initially chosen, Len says, because the wheat harvest would have just been completed and farmers would have had more money to donate to the church.

Offerings are collected in ice cream buckets at the mission festival.

Money, though, has never been the focus of the festival although a collection is taken. Rather, the purpose is to “help people to focus on missions,” says Len, who several years ago accompanied his daughter, Julie, and others on a mission trip to Nicaragua. It changed him and he now takes personally the words “Here am I, send me” from the hymn “Hark! the Voice of Jesus Crying.” Julie, now a third-year student at Concordia University in Seward, Nebraska, followed up with a mission trip to Hong Kong and is now considering a career as a missionary.

“I think we need to be a church in mission,” Len says as he explains the purpose of the mission fest on his family’s property. The natural setting of farm fields, open pasture and woods, with a cool breeze stirring oak leaves and raising goosebumps on Sunday morning, connected worshipers to the message delivered by the Rev. Dr. Robert Holst, retired president of Concordia University, St. Paul, and a former missionary to Papua, New Guinea.

The Rev. Dr. Robert Holst delivered a message on missions and afterward answered questions about his missionary service in New Guinea. Len Marquardt says the congregation has never had trouble finding a guest pastor as they savor participating in an “old-time mission festival out in the woods.”

As Rev. Holst spoke of his experiences in his sermon, “Global Missions: International Love,” worshipers, sitting among the trees, could easily imagine the primitive ways of the New Guinea people, their belief in spirits, their sacrifice of pigs, their mistrust and misunderstandings and lack of knowledge about God and the challenges the pastor faced in telling them about Christ.

Foreign missions seemed as close as a thought away for attendees like Jeanette Schoenfeld of Wilton Church who enjoys the mission fest because, she says, “It’s like they do in Africa,” worshiping outdoors.

Baby Jaci sits with her dad, Mike, and brother, Bales, during the worship service.

Len Marquardt and others, including his sister, Sally Hodge, appreciate, too, the traditions they are passing from family to family through generations of mission festivals. As Sally samples a vinegary, potato-green bean dish prepared for the mission fest potluck, she glances back to kids racing up the wooded hillside. “I remember tromping up the hills, tromping up the trails, building wood forts…talk about history and family and pleasure in knowing each other…” Sally says as she glances across the table at friend and fellow parishioner Davin Quiram.

All ages, and several generations of families, attended the mission fest on Sunday.

Sally Hodge sings in the choir and usually plays in the band. But this year she didn’t make the practices so was unable to join the Freedom Band. She lives just up the hill from Marquardt’s Grove and grew up on the other side of “just up the hill.”

Davin, like Sally a life-long member of Freedom, concurs as the two reminisce and remember the rare treat of soda pop from the mission fest pop and candy stand, which Davin will later man. The friends don’t recall specific mission speakers or messages from their childhood days, only those racing through the woods and gulping pop memories.

Davin, though, is quick to rattle off the areas of ministry covered by mission speakers in the past 10 years: American Indians, Hispanic, college, Japanese and such.

An elderly man turns to a hymn in the old pocket-size songbook that’s been used for decades.

While guest speakers change from year to year, the music remains constant with worshipers singing hymns from the pocket-size Mission Hymns Suitable for Mission Festivals and Similar Gatherings (out of print for 80 years).

Likewise, the Freedom Band, the church band comprised of Freedom members and others from the area and in existence for an estimated 80 years, uses the same familiar music books such as The Church Band Book—Choral Melodies of the Lutheran church for Military Band by A. Grimm, published in 1919 by Antigo Publishing Co., and a handwritten book of music transposed from a hymnal for the band.

The Freedom Band and some of its handwritten music.

The Freedom Band has always played at the mission fest and other area mission events in years gone by. At any time, 5 – 7 members of Sally’s family, the Marquardts, may be playing in the band—all on the trumpet but for one on the sax.

Gemma Lin returned to the mission fest, one year after her baptism there in 2011.

Part of mission fest also includes the occasional outdoor baptism. Sally’s father, Alfred, born in 1911, was baptized at the Freedom Mission Festival. Last year, a century later, two-month-old Gemma Lin of Mankato was baptized in Marquardt’s Grove and her great uncle was baptized the night before at Freedom Church. Aleta Lin, Gemma’s mom, treasures her daughter’s unique baptism and the story of that baptism which will always be a part of family history. She hopes Gemma will, through the years, continue to attend mission fest, a life-long tradition for Aleta, a life-long member of Freedom Church.

A bible lies on the floor of the stage where the band played and the preachers preached.

For those outside of Freedom, memories of past mission fests also come quickly. Such festivals were once a staple among rural congregations as a time to worship God in the outdoors, to socialize afterward at a potluck dinner and even meet future spouses.

Worshipers line up for a potluck dinner after the worship service.

Guest pastor Holst opened his message by reminiscing about the mission fests of his youth, recalling the washtubs full of soda pop—root beer, 7-UP and Orange Crush—set out by the youth group. He also remembered the ball games between fathers and children.

On Sunday there were no ball games or kids racing for a rare treat of pop. But plenty of kids—from babies to teens—settled onto temporary wood plank benches and lawn chairs or upon blankets or in car seats on the same ground in Marquardt’s Grove that has, for generations, served as an outdoor house of worship on one Sunday in August.

The vintage mini songbook lying on planks and the mission site in the background.

FYI: Check back for an additional post featuring mission fest photos and for a separate photo essay of Freedom Church.

© Copyright 2012 Audrey Kletscher Helbling