Life as a Lutheran (11/4/99)
By Paulette Tobin
A few weeks ago V.J. wrote about growing up
Catholic in Eureka. Lately I've been thinking a lot about growing up Lutheran,
what with last Sunday being Reformation Sunday, the anniversary of the day in
1517 when Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the door of the Castle Church
in Wittenberg inviting a debate about church practice and doctrine. Also, last
night Emily spent a few hours with her new friend, Katrin, a student from
Germany who is nearing the end of a three-week stay here in Grand Forks. Katrin
said she doesn't know anyone her age in Germany who goes to church services. It
would seem the faith of our fathers is at a very low ebb indeed.
Zion Lutheran Church was such a center of my
world when I was growing up in Eureka. My parents had to do chores, then get
cleaned up and drive 12 miles to Eureka and yet our family hardly ever missed
Sunday services. We went to the 9 a.m. English service, which was followed by
Sunday school at 10 a.m. In those days there was still an 11 o'clock service in
German.
I was baptized by Pastor Baudler, who was
Zion's pastor from 1954 to about 1968 and who passed away earlier this year.
Pastor Baudler was a commanding presence, with his erect bearing and shock of
sandy hair, and we kids were all in awe of him. A few years ago a friend of
mine who had been confirmed by Baudler said of him: "He WAS Martin Luther
to me." Baudler's sermons were often accompanied by loud exclamations and
arm waving and he created a major sensation one year when he read, from the
pulpit, the names of several church members who had been absent from holy
communion for more than a year. I have many good memories of Pastor Baudler,
but the best are the times when he led us kids in singing the rounds he seemed
to love so much. He sang with such gusto and joy.
Pastor Baudler was beloved by many, but not
universally loved. Those who didn't like him mostly kept quiet about it. His
actions could seem judgemental at times. The late Ted Straub, a member of one
of Zion's oldest and most respected families, wrote in his autobiography about
the run-in he had with Baudler in 1962 when one of the Straub daughters was
planning to be married at Zion. Two weeks before the wedding Baudler sent the
chairman of the church council to the Straub to inform him that the wedding
would not be permitted at Zion because the groom-to-be had been divorced. There
is nothing in Lutheran doctrine that would have prevented a divorced person
from marrying in the church. Nevertheless, Baudler forbade it and the church
council backed him up
My very earliest church memories are of Mom
taking me out on Sunday morning because I was being naughty. (I believe I got a
good scolding and there may have been more dire threats involved, because I
remember crying.) That hour in church seemed to go on forever. Those were the
days of The Red Hymnal and every week the order of service was exactly the
same, so I was always so relieved when the collection plate came around because
I knew then that it was almost over. During the offertory we always sang Psalm
51: "Create a clean heart in me, oh God, and renew a right spirit within
me." Part of the song goes: "...cast me not away from thy
presence..." and I remember as a little kid thinking this was so terribly
sad, because I thought it meant someone wasn't getting any
"presents"!
Church may have seemed interminable, but
Sunday school was more fun. We'd all troop into the parish hall and sing, this
time from The Green Book. Song No. 66, "Jesus loves me, this I know,"
was always at the top of the Sunday school hit parade. Pastor Baudler would
speak to us briefly, then we would adjourn to our classrooms. I remember some
really wonderful Sunday school teachers, including Pauline Opp, Violet Hoff
Lindemann, Martha Mehlhaff and Frieda Bender. As little children we learned the
Bible stories and each Sunday had to memorize a Bible verse. Our lessons were
taught from a four-page pamphlet that always had a color Bible scene on its
cover. We used to take them home and put them in a ring binder so we could read
them over and over again. At home Mom also read to us from the Egermeier's
Bible storybook. I wonder how many times we heard about Joseph and his brothers
and the plagues of Egypt and Moses and the Israelites in the wilderness? It
wasn't until I was older and read the unabridged version of the Old Testament
that I realized how much they left out in Sunday school! We definitely got the
G-rated version of a very much R-rated story.
When we were seventh graders we entered
confirmation school. Each Sunday we would sit in the first two pews of the
church, girls on the right side and boys on the left, a throwback to the old
days when all the women had sat on one side of church and all the men on the
other. I think the pastor wanted us in front so he could make sure we had been
in church. And it made us feel special. Confirmation was a big deal, not only
in our lives as Lutherans, but as a personal milestone. It meant we were
growing up. We went to confirmation classes every Wednesday night during the
school year and for two weeks during Bible school. In those days the church was
very big on memorization: we memorized Luther's Catechism, the 10 commandments,
The Lord's Prayer, The Apostle's Creed and all their "meanings," each
of which ended, "This is most certainly true." Pastor Baudler also
had us memorize the books of the Bible in order, a few hymns and some of the
Psalms. He must have been a good teacher because I don't ever remember being
bored in his class. One day he took us on a tour of our church, the church we
thought we knew so well, and explained to us how the architecture and the
furnishings of the church reflected the fundamental teachings of our faith and
the mystery of the trinity.
On confirmation day all us girls had a new
white dress and the whole class wore corsages of palms and red carnations and
white robes. But before we were confirmed we underwent a public examination in
which we were called on to regurgitate some of the stuff we had memorized. None
of us knew when we would be called on or what would be asked, so it was
nerve-wracking. Pastor Baudler left the year before I was confirmed, and his
last confirmation class was the last at Zion to be examined in front of the
whole church on confirmation day. My class had its examination a couple of
nights before the big event.
Today when I go back to Zion I think of
friends and family and the generations of Haupts and Wolffs and Becks and
Pfeifles who have worshipped there -- some who I haven't seen for years, some
who have departed this world -- and I feel close to them once more. It is then
when I feel the Apostles Creed most fervently, especially the part that says, "I
believe in the communion of saints..."
(Paulette Haupt Tobin grew up on a farm near
Eureka and graduated from EHS in 1973. Today she lives at Grand Forks, N.D.,
and is a reporter for the Grand Forks Herald.)