EASTER MORNING DAWNS with the sunshine of God’s love. I believe this to be true.
I know that my Redeemer lives!
Have a blessed Easter, dear readers!
© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Easter morning March 31, 2024
The art of rural Minnesota churches March 28, 2024
IN MY BACKROADS travels around Minnesota, I’ve often stopped at churches, drawn by their history, architecture and art. Churches are, to me, more than houses of worship. They are also galleries, museums, centers of praise and grief and joy.
There’s almost something holy about stepping inside a church, into the quiet of a space graced by colorful stained glass windows, religious sculptures, pews worn by the hands of many.
I feel a sense of reverence in the light, in the stillness, in the peace that fills an empty sanctuary. I feel centered. Calm. Enveloped by the sheer beauty surrounding me.
That beauty often emanates from the art. Stained glass windows, designed and built by skilled artisans, add a dimension of sacredness that appears heavenly when sunlight streams through glass.
Themed to history, those windows visually tell stories written within the bible. Many focus on Holy Week: The Last Supper. Jesus praying in the garden of Gethsemane. The crucifixion of Jesus. And then His glorious resurrection on Easter morning.
Sculptures, too, depict the same in life-size statues.
Sacred and religious art is powerful. It evokes emotions. Inspires. Uplifts. Gives reason to pause and reflect.
This Holy Week, as my thoughts turn more reflective and inward, I feel deep gratitude for the long ago faithful who created the stained glass windows, the sculptures and other art adorning churches. These works of art are worthy of our attention, our appreciation, no matter religious affiliation or not.
I can only imagine how many eyes have focused on the art within sanctuary walls. During baptisms. During weddings. During funerals. And during worship services. Joy. Comfort. Peace. Blessings. They’re there, all there, within the art within these sacred spaces.
© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Grieving Arlene March 19, 2024
IN THE TWO YEARS and two months since my mom died, I have not cried much over losing her. Not at her funeral, held at the height of omicron in a church packed with mostly unmasked mourners. Not at the cemetery. Not once have I fully-wept.
It’s not that I don’t feel her loss deeply. I do. Some Sunday evenings I still want to pick up my phone and call her, as was my routine up until she could no longer manage even that. Now my son typically calls me on Sundays from his home in Boston, a gift to me in more ways than he can imagine.
The day before his last call, on a Saturday afternoon, the grief I’d tucked inside over my mom’s death spilled out. Everything came together in an emotional moment at my friend Arlene’s funeral. I missed Mom with the fierceness only a daughter can feel.
My mom’s name was Arlene. And I think that started the torrent of emotions I felt as I grieved the other Arlene, mother to Will and Karen and Steve. My friend. An artist. A woman of faith and compassion and kindness. So like my own mother, except for the creativity.
As I opened the worship folder graced with Arlene Rolf’s “Creation” batik art, I noticed first the selected scripture readings. Familiar. Meaningful. Joshua 1:8-9, verse 9 being my Confirmation verse: Be strong and courageous…for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.
And then Romans 8:28-30. Verse 28 has always been a favorite bible passage: …in all things God works for the good of those who love him. That scripture, like Joshua 1:9, has carried me through many challenges in life.
Finally, I read the gospel lesson from John 10:7-15 about the good shepherd and his sheep. It was, I was certain, the same section of scripture read at my mom’s 2022 funeral. Later I would confirm the overlapping of verses chosen for the funerals of the two Arlenes.
I don’t believe in coincidence. I believe in God moments. And I was experiencing those as I mourned my friend Arlene on March 9. I held it together, through all the bible readings, liturgy and songs, until several of Arlene’s grandchildren clustered together to sing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” Their pure, sweet voices, minus any instrumentals, carried such emotion. It was as if a band of angels were welcoming their grandmother, my friend, into heaven. It was too much. I felt tears brimming my eyes, then sliding down my cheeks as I thought of my own dear mother welcomed into the loving arms of Jesus on January 13, 2022.
In that moment I grieved.
© Copyright 2024 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
An encouraging message meant for me July 14, 2023
CALL IT SERENDIPITY, coincidence, even divine intervention. But when I spotted a white stone in a flowerbed at Faribault’s Central Park recently, then flipped the stone to read the words, have faith, I felt with certainty this message was meant for me.
I needed these encouraging words. It’s been a long past several months as I deal with ongoing challenging health issues that sometimes leave me feeling hopeless and in tears. It’s a lot, these layered diagnoses of vestibular neuronitis, Menerie’s Disease and peripheral sensory neuropathy. When symptoms flare, which is often, I wonder if I will ever be myself again. And every time a new symptom arises, I wonder why my body is seemingly under siege. Definitive answers and solutions feel elusive.
Yet, if I reflect on this journey, I can see improvements in balance and my ability to handle sensory input. I attribute those to 3.5 months of vestibular rehab therapy and the prayers of many. Have faith. Those two words are powerful, filled with hope. Hope for better days, better health, a return to life as I once lived it.
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THANK YOU to you, my blog readers, for your gifts, cards, prayers and words of encouragement. Every caring word and act of kindness uplifts me and makes me feel, oh, so loved. I am grateful for your support, care and concern.
© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Celebrating 75 years of radio ministry at Trinity, Faribault April 27, 2023
DURING THE COVID-19 PANDEMIC, when I wasn’t attending worship services at my church, Trinity Lutheran, Faribault, I switched on the radio. In the safety and shelter of my home, I listened to Sunday morning worship services broadcast on Faribault-based KDHL radio. I was grateful for the AM listening option. I could have watched live-streaming. But I preferred the less distracting radio delivery.
Eventually, I returned to in-person worship. But today I’m back tuning the radio to 920 AM at 8 am Sunday because of a health issue that leaves me sensory sensitive and more. I can’t tolerate the sound of the organ or the multi-layered sensory input of being among people in a busy environment.
That’s the backstory behind my personal appreciation of the Trinity Radio Club, which has broadcast church services for 75 years, first airing on April 25, 1948. That’s remarkable in longevity, in decades of sharing the Gospel initially via the air waves and then via live-streaming and other online platforms.
This weekend, April 29 and 30, the Trinity Radio Club celebrates its 75th anniversary during worship and during a special program between Sunday morning services. It’s important to commemorate and honor the work of long ago visionaries who embraced a radio ministry. They initially pledged $5/each toward the effort and also committed to paying 35 cents weekly to support the broadcasts. That doesn’t seem like much money today. But I expect it was a sacrifice in 1948, when the first broadcast cost $46.
Throughout its 75 years, the Trinity Radio Council (today the Trinity Radio Club) has remained strong in its mission of reaching people with the good news of salvation, whether locally or an ocean away. The club has continued to upgrade technology, to make improvements that assure uninterrupted transmission of services via radio and online. Unlike many churches during the COVID pandemic, Trinity was already up and running with a strong, safe and viable way of reaching and connecting with people outside the walls of the sanctuary.
For awhile, Randy and I (mostly Randy) were part of the club’s mission. Once a month, sometimes more, Randy would take a DVD of the 8 am worship service to a local nursing home. Sometimes I accompanied him. He would lead part of the service and then play the sermon part of the recording for residents. Many of them slept through the entire thing. But, yet, when Randy led them in The Lord’s Prayer, they would join in. No memory issues. No sleepiness. Just a roomful of the faithful praying.
That word “faithful” seems appropriate to insert here. Generations have committed to maintaining and expanding the Trinity Radio Club ministry. That comes via financial support and volunteering. When our tech-savvy son was in high school, he volunteered. Every broadcast and streamed service requires people in the soundproof studio working the computer, the switches, all the tech stuff I don’t understand.
But I understand one thing. I understand the importance of this ministry personally. When I can’t be in church, and there are others just like me, I can still be there.
I am grateful to those individuals who saw the need for a radio broadcast 75 years ago. I am grateful for the continuing expansion via technology. I am grateful for a congregation which financially and otherwise supports the Trinity Radio Club. I am grateful for listeners who also donate. It takes a joint effort, a team, dedication and hard work. And for the initial founders of the Trinity Radio Council, it took a vision based on faith to launch this ministry which has blessed so many, including me, during its 75-year history.
FYI: To learn more background on the Trinity Radio Club, click here to read a post I published in 2018 on the 70th anniversary of this ministry.
© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Thoughts following the funeral of slain Pope County, Minnesota, Deputy Josh Owen April 24, 2023
Let us go forth in peace.
Those final words from the Rev. Bryan Taffe, pastor of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church in Lowry in western Minnesota, concluded a Saturday morning funeral service for Pope County Deputy Josh Owen, shot and killed April 15 while responding to a call of domestic violence. Taffe’s message and final blessing comforted me as I watched TV coverage of the deputy’s funeral some 180 miles northwest of Faribault in Glenwood.
I didn’t know the law enforcement officer killed on his 44th birthday. But, collectively, as a state, we knew Josh. He was described by speakers as hardworking, a common sense individual, calm under pressure, a family man… The kind of guy you would want having your back, whether on the battlefields of Iraq or in rural Pope County, Minnesota.
“ALWAYS PICK JOSH”
Lt. Col. John Anderson of the Minnesota National Guard served as Josh’s platoon leader during a 22-month deployment, including 16 months in Iraq. He shared of his soldier’s selfless heroism. Anderson learned early on to “always pick Josh.” He could count on him to handle dangerous situations, including the rescue of a severely-injured soldier in what he described as “a killing zone.”
An emotional Pope County Chief Deputy Nathan Brecht echoed Anderson’s theme of relying on and trusting that Josh could handle anything. His physical bulk proved invaluable. Yet, he held a tender side, showing compassion to a suicidal man and encouragement to a young woman in the throes of drug addiction.
PERSONAL INSIGHTS
As I listened to Anderson, Brecht and his cousin by marriage, Josh Palmateer, a clear picture began to emerge of Josh Owen. For me that was important, to begin to understand the man behind the badge, the man behind the headlines. The husband of Shannon, father to 10-year-old Rylan, friend, co-worker, son, cousin…protector.
Josh had a distinct laugh, pulled pranks with his fellow soldiers, had an insatiable thirst for Mountain Dew, loved lifting weights, hated doing paperwork. His motto: “Don’t start sh*t you can’t finish.”
I embraced Chief Deputy Brecht’s poetically descriptive image. When he sees a crack of lightning and hears a roll of thunder, he will think of Josh. Campfires and fishing and drinking an IPA will also remind him of the guy he could count on.
LOVE & GRATITUDE
At times, I wondered if the grieving deputy would make it through his remembrances of Josh. But he did, and with an important message. He vowed to tell his co-workers that he appreciates and loves them. Brecht regrets not doing that with Josh. He thanked the community for its outpouring of support, sharing that “every act of kindness sustains us.” And he referenced one of my favorite bible verses, Romans 8:28: All things work together for good to those who love God… Admittedly, Brecht said finding the good in Josh’s tragic death is not easy. But he said he’s gotten to know the family better and understands the importance of expressing love, aloud, to others. Like Brecht, I firmly believe that something good comes in every challenge, although it can take awhile to see that. For me, the good has often emerged in empathy, compassion and, yes, reaching out with kindness.
More scripture was quoted at the funeral held in the Minnewaska Area High School gymnasium packed with mourners, including hundreds of law enforcement officers. Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. By the time Josh Palmateer quoted Joshua 1:9, I was not surprised. That is my Confirmation verse, words that embolden me to trust.
BLESSED ARE THE PEACEMAKERS
As the memorial service closed with a message by the Lutheran pastor, I felt joined in grief to the 4,000-plus mourners in that rural high school gymnasium. I felt connected and comforted. As a Christian, I appreciated the clergy’s hopeful message of eternal life. I appreciated, too, his reference to The Beatitudes, recorded in Matthew 5. Most of us know them: Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted…Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God… But Rev. Taffe explained the blessed part in a way that I’d not previously grasped. “You may not be feeling blessed,” he told the crowd. He then went on to explain that being blessed in grief “means God is showing favor on you…in deep sadness you are in God’s hands more than any other time.” That resonated with me, deep within my soul.
When the funeral service and TV coverage ended simultaneously at noon, I felt emotionally drained. But I also felt better for having learned about Josh Owen—the deputy and the man—and better for having heard inspirational messages. Calls to express love, to realize that we can unite collectively, give me hope.
Let us go forth in peace.
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© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Easter memories of song, tattoos & faith April 9, 2023
IT IS MY ABSOLUTE favorite Easter hymn—“I Know that My Redeemer Lives.” And there is a reason behind that choice.
As a child, I sang that song with my Sunday School class during Easter worship services at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Vesta. Dressed in our Easter finery—girls in pastel dresses and Easter hats, boys in dress pants and shirts, some with bow ties cinching their necks—we belted out the joyful words about the risen Lord.
To this day, I can recite most of the verses. The words are that ingrained in my memory. Words of triumph, love, blessings, assurance and so much more. I feel my soul filling with Easter morning hope in the memories of singing that aged hymn.
I admittedly cannot carry a tune or read a single musical note. And I admit to a bit of fear on those long ago Easter mornings in rural southwestern Minnesota. Not fear about forgetting the words to a hymn. But rather a dislike of sitting in the St. John’s balcony with only a low, partial wall separating me from the sanctuary below. I never jostled for the front pew in that upstairs packed with kids.
I hold another memory from Easter morning. Not of danger, but rather of youthful disobedience. Mom asked my siblings and me not to tattoo our arms before church services. Of course, we didn’t listen and excitedly held washcloth to paper tattoos, imprinting temporary art (from Easter egg dyeing kits) onto our skin. In the end, I don’t think anyone really cared as long as we showed up to sing at church.
And so all these decades later, I remember my favorite hymn and how my faith has carried me through life. Through joyful moments, through ordinary days, through really difficult times…
He lives to bless me with his love.
He lives to help in time of need.
I know that my Redeemer lives!
A joyful Easter to all of you from my home in southern Minnesota, not from the balcony of St. John’s!
TELL ME: Do you have a favorite Easter hymn and/or memory? I’d like to hear.
© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Good Friday focus on suffering & compassion April 7, 2023
ON THIS GOOD FRIDAY, the day Christ was crucified, I contemplated what I would write. I had two topics in mind—suffering and compassion. Then I realized I needn’t choose one. I could focus on both.
Christ died a cruel and agonizing death. There is no denying that. Yet, even in his betrayal, his pain, his intense suffering, he showed compassion to the end. And beyond the end. We can learn a lot from Jesus.
We all experience suffering in life. That’s a given in our humanity. Right now I have friends going through some really rough stuff within their immediate and extended families. A one-year-old on life support. A nephew dead in a tragic car accident. Another battling advanced cancer. Ongoing and new health issues. It can feel like a lot. And to think otherwise would be to deny the challenges facing people about whom I care deeply. There are days when I feel overwhelmed by all the suffering in this world and beyond. Enough already, I want to scream.
But then I recognize that I can either be dragged down by it or I can do as Christ did—show compassion. I can be that person who listens. I can be that person who offers encouraging words. I can be that person who mails an uplifting greeting card with a personal note. I can be that person who connects and shows care in tangible ways and sets aside my anguish to focus on those at the center of challenges.
This is not the time to pull out my own stories and compare, thus putting the focus on me. This is not the time for me to tell anyone how to think, feel or act. This is not the time to offer advice. This is the time to simply be there. To listen. To hug. To pray, but to take my compassion beyond thoughts and prayers.
I am a major advocate of listening. It is one of the greatest gifts anyone can give to someone who is grieving, in crisis, in the throes of health or other challenges. Listening doesn’t seem to come easily for most people. It takes a conscious, focused effort. But at its core, listening is easy. It requires keeping one’s mouth closed, for starters. And then it necessitates concentrating, taking in every word, every nuance, body language and detail.
By nature, I am a quiet observer. I don’t need to be, want to be, the loudest person in the room pushing my ideas or opinions or recommendations. I know too many individuals who fit that self-centered persona. They exhaust me and, yes, sometimes even anger me. Quiet compassion and listening center me.
Today, as I reflect on the life and death of Christ, I see someone who showed great compassion throughout his time on earth. He witnessed and understood suffering. He experienced emotions. He felt pain. Yes, I can learn a lot from Jesus. About loving. About listening. About showing compassion, even in suffering.
TELL ME: How do you show compassion to those who are facing challenges?
© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
The art of Holy Week in southern Minnesota April 3, 2023
CHRISTIAN FAITH COMMUNITIES have long integrated art into their houses of worship. Whether in stained glass windows, sculptures, paintings or other art forms, this art is an important way to visually connect worshipers with Scripture, with foundational teachings.
This week, Holy Week, I consider the art of churches I’ve visited in my area of southern Minnesota. Aged sanctuaries graced with connective and inspiring art. I never tire of stepping inside a rural church or meandering through a country cemetery to view faith-focused art. It’s beautiful in its own way, often in the visual storytelling of events documented in the Bible.
As a woman of faith, the days leading up to Jesus’ crucifixion and subsequent resurrection on Easter morning make this week particularly meaningful.
From Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane to The Last Supper to his betrayal by Judas and then his crucifixion and resurrection, the events of Christ’s final days unfold in art inside sanctuaries and on cemetery grounds.
I feel a certain reverence for the artists who designed and crafted stained glass windows that rise high inside sanctuaries, sunlight streaming through colorful glass. It’s almost as if the beauty therein beams directly from heaven, filling dark souls with light.
Likewise, statues, most often found in Catholic churches, add a down-to-earth human element in their life-sized presence. I have the urge to reach out, to touch a hand or a face, to offer comfort, to extend compassion. Art, especially faith-based art, holds that power.
Whether centering an altar or hanging on a church fellowship hall wall, biblically-based artwork is an important part of Christianity. I appreciate the ornate and the simplistic. The oversized and the understated. The all of it, uplifting, inspiring, moving me.
During this Holy Week, I reflect on the art gracing churches throughout my region. Art that truly is a spiritual treasure. Art that carries a heritage of faith.
© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
St. John’s presents long-running dramatic version of “The Last Supper” March 30, 2023
FROM MILAN TO MINNESOTA, Leonardo da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” painting continues to leave its imprint. For more than 500 years, this rendition of Jesus’ final meal with his 12 disciples has held a sacred place among those of the Christian faith, including me.
And in one small rural Minnesota church, the painting inspired a re-enactment which debuted in 1963 via a script penned by the then-pastor. Members of St. John’s United Church of Christ, Wheeling Township, rural Faribault, present an annual “Drama of the da Vinci Painting of the Lord’s Supper.” This year’s drama is set for 8 pm on April 2, Palm Sunday, the beginning of Holy Week.
I’ve attended this long-running monologue of each disciple and their relationship with Christ many times. Although the script and music remain the same, the actors change from year to year. Yet, there’s a consistency in that, too, with many of the men switching parts, perhaps taking a year off. I recognize actors’ surnames like Bauer, Keller, Little, Meyer, Wiegrefe and another Keller (Craig) always at the organ.
There’s a sameness to St. John’s presentation of “The Last Supper.” And that is comforting. The darkening of this 1800s limestone church. The mood-setting music. The disciples processing in to sit at a long table set before the altar. The statue-like poses. The spotlight focus on each disciple. The bold, sometimes heart-wrenching, monologues. The emotion. The pain. Then the spotlight shifting to the empty chair representing Christ.
Even after seeing this drama many times, I pick up something I haven’t in prior viewings. I always exit the sanctuary feeling reflective, emotional, even a bit sad. The tone is set for the beginning of Holy Week, transitioning to Jesus’ crucifixion and then, on Easter, his joyful resurrection.
This tradition at St. John’s is part of this congregation’s history. Part of their faith heritage. And a gift to the greater community. To settle into a pew in this country church and watch the drama unfold is to appreciate da Vinci’s art in a way that touches the soul.
FYI: St. John’s United Church of Christ, Wheeling Township, is located at 19086 Jacobs Avenue, rural Faribault. The drama will also be live-streamed on the church’s Facebook page.
© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
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