Celebrating 65 years of marriage

 

This past Saturday I had the privilege of celebrating with many others my parents’ 65^th wedding anniversary. The 65^th wedding anniversary is known as the “blue sapphire” anniversary which symbolizes wisdom, loyalty, and an enduring, deep-rooted love. Only 1.8 percent of couples who are married reach their 65^th wedding anniversary. Part of this is because of age. When someone asked my dad this past weekend what is the key to 65 years of marriage, he replied, “not dying.” And this is true, of course. And it is true that no one can live with another person without wisdom, loyalty and an enduring, deep-rooted love.

 

At their celebration at Chatauqua Park in Worthington, my daughter, Hannah, did a terrific job of sharing some of the highlights of my parents meeting and of their wedding. I’ve shared some of these highlights at the bottom of this blog.

 Both my wife, Amy, and I are extraordinarily fortunate to have parents who enjoyed long marriages. Amy’s parents will celebrate their 70^th wedding anniversary this fall.

 My parents never argued in front of me when I was growing up. The first time I saw them argue was when I was in college. And after seeing them argue I wondered if they were going to get a divorce. Keeping their disagreements behind closed doors provided a foundation for our family. My sister and I never questioned whether my parents would be together. In retrospect it probably would have been healthier for them to argue more in front of my sister and me as we would have learned at an earlier age that this is what families do.

 

My parents lived into the idea of two becoming one. They did everything together. They attended all of the activities that my sister and I participated—sporting events, musical concerts, church gatherings, other events. And they always attended together. I don’t ever remember them coming to one of our activities by themselves. This past Saturday, my niece Elizabeth remarked that my parents came to many of her high school activities. And they always came together.

Even with my dad eighty-five and my mom eighty-seven, they still care for each other. Recently my dad and I were talking about the challenges that my mom’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis presents. He shared with me that he took a vow at his marriage to be with her in the good times and the bad. And though he probably wouldn’t describe this part of their journey as bad, no one would have chosen for her to live with Alzheimer’s. So he perseveres with love while remembering his vow during this season of their life.

 I can only wish that every couple who gets married in their twenties will celebrate sixty-five years of marriage. The world would be a better place.

 

Here are some stories of my parents’ dating and marriage.

Their first date was January 15, 1960 in Mankato. They met through the Mankato student Christian federation. They saw the movie, “the Wreck of the Mary Dear.” My dad wore a tie and a suit coat. The weather was below zero. The two walked from the lower Mankato campus to downtown. After the movie they had pizza at Pizza-kato. My dad smoked a post pizza cigarette.

On the second date my dad asked my mom if he had permission to kiss her. They kissed in front of my mom’s dorm.

They were married in Mantorville, MN at the congregational church on the afternoon of Saturday, August 5, 1961. My mom got ready in the Old Mansion and rode to the wedding in her grandfather Walter’s car over to the church.

The bridesmaids were Clare (Zeller) Field and Pat Harris. The groomsmen were Duae Moore and Lee Hilman. Del Matheson and Jerry Harris were ushers.

My grandfather, Vinton, my mom’s dad, was miffed that another couple was married in the church and used the décor/flowers for their wedding.

My dad and mom left the wedding in a 1957 Two door Chevy that my dad bought a week before the wedding in Fenton, Iowa.

The wedding reception was at Michael’s in Rochester. The two drove to Winona and arrived at midnight with no reservation. They eventually found a room in Fountain City, Wisconsin.

The next day me dad and mom went to church. The minister announced their presence by yelling, “This is a newly wed young couple from Minneapolis.”

They drove to the Wisconsin Dells to attend Tommy Bartlett’s water ski show.

The two had jobs as teachers in Paulina, Iowa. My dad was a high-school English teacher, and my mom was an elementary-school teacher. After the honeymoon the two stopped in Mantorville to get their wedding gifts which had been unwrapped by Maxine, my mom’s mom, and Pat, her sister while my parents were away. When my dad looked at the gifts he said, “well it looks like we got everything except for a toothpick holder.” A week or so later one arrived in the main from Blanche Harris, my mom’s grandmother! 

 

 

Yes I do love Jesus and you might be surprised why

Because I am a pastor people are going to assume that I love Jesus. And this is true. I truly aspire to love Jesus with all my heart, soul, and mind. I can say unconditionally that Jesus is my Lord and Savior.

I’m guessing that some might be interested in how I developed my beliefs about Jesus. So I want to share in this blog some stories that influenced my love for Jesus and my relationship with him. And hopefully these stories can be helpful to all people—those who have a strong relationship with Jesus and those who are cautious but still interested in Jesus. And perhaps helpful to those who hardly think about Jesus.

One of the first stories I remember about Jesus happened during worship at Westminster Presbyterian church in Worthington, Minnesota. I was probably under five. For whatever reason I was sitting in the back row of the sanctuary with one of my parents. I think we got there late that day and the back row was the only place we could sit. I usually was bored out of my mind at church, but for some reason that day I listened to the New Testament reading that was about Jesus. I don’t remember the specific story, but I do remember that it was a story where Jesus stood up for an outsider. Maybe it was the woman caught in adultery, or maybe it was the Samaritan, or maybe it was Mary Magdalene. The thought that went through my mind was, “Wow, he really cares for that person and that surprises me.” And then the story went on to share that a leader in the religious community didn’t care for that person. Which made me wonder why Jesus would care for this outsider and the religious person wouldn’t. My five-year old mind thought that it would have made more sense if the religious leader cared for this outsider. Isn’t that what religious people are supposed to do? Jesus did care, and my very young brain understood that there was something special about Jesus.

Even though church was boring, I was always interested when I went to church to hear a story about Jesus. These stories surprised me—they caused me to think—they made me wonder what Jesus would say to people if he was alive today. He frequently contradicted what I thought he would do—and that made me curious.

Because of my experience in living for three summers and a school year in inner-city Kansas City I came to believe that Jesus has a special place in his heart for those who are poor. And he would have high expectations for those who have wealth. He would want those who have resources to share with those who don’t. For me this is not a political statement—it’s a moral belief that comes out of the stories of Jesus.

Early in college I read the Sermon on the Mount for the first time. I saw a vision for the world that Jesus wanted to create—the Kingdom. It is a vision where the poor in spirit, the meek, the merciful, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness are blessed. In this vision people shared their inner light with others with humility and authenticity.

As I started being called into religious ministry, I became aware that I wanted to share the love that Jesus had for people. One of my hopes for myself is that I will "love like Jesus loved." In fact if I died and people authentically shared at my funeral that I loved like Jesus, then I would deem my life as a success. 

The love of Jesus is very special. It was shared without conditions. For a newcomer to faith it’s easy to receive. 

The love of Jesus is challenging. For a person who worships often his love can seem demanding--demanding in a way that can force a person to shed the parts of their life that need to be shed. The longer a person is in relationship the more challenging the love of Jesus is to follow.

The love of Jesus is needed. Jesus shared a morality that is essential for the world. This morality is centered on his love. His love is simple and yet very challenging. 

When I first started at Chain of Lakes someone shared that they hoped that Jesus would be mentioned at least once during every worship service. That is no problem for me. I want to talk about Jesus. I enjoy talking about Jesus; I enjoy praying to Jesus; I enjoy reading and learning about Jesus; I enjoy trying to discern what Jesus wants me to do. I’m not trying to earn any “Jesus” points from anyone about my own love for Jesus. I share my love for Jesus with a deep sense of humility. I don’t claim any special privilege because of my relationship to Jesus; in fact being with Jesus prompts me to want to serve in a humble way.

A lot of damage has been done by the church in the name of Jesus. This damage causes me a high level of pain. I believe that Jesus would be appalled at the behavior and teachings by people who claim his name. But this damage does not deter me from talking about Jesus or wanting to communicate his love.

I’ve read the stories in the gospels about Jesus hundreds of times—maybe even thousands of times. And I still find them interesting; they still challenge me; they still provide a role model for me in how to act. When I find myself in a difficult situation I ask myself how Jesus would respond to this situation. This is often my prayer.

No one forced me to fall in love with Jesus. This happened through my own process of discovery. This is what some might find surprising. I never thought I would be a pastor when I was young. And if my parents hadn't taken me to church, I'm fairly certain that I would not be going to church today. My skepticism would have won out. Even though I'm very skeptical, coming into contact with the stories of Jesus helped me love him. 

But I'm not skeptical about Jesus or what he would want to do today. I love Jesus because I believe that the love he demonstrated truly represents the best hope for the world. I've never encountered anything better!