Post: Readers Respond

The "should-haves" and the "could-haves" and the "will-dos" are looming so high they can no longer be ignored. If the good in-tentions were actualities, there would be many letters and/or articles snail-mailed to Pietisten! No excuses or apologies.

A daily devotional helped to trigger this missive. From A Diary of Readings by John Baillie, and from the pen of Baron Friedrich von Hügel these words, to me, were moving:

What is it that I would have you quietly set your mind and heart on, during that lonesome and dreary bit of your road, Child? Why, this! You see, all we do has a double-relatedness, a link or links of a chain that stretches back to our birth and on to our death. It is part of a long train of cause and effect, of effect and cause, in your own chain of a life—this variously intertwisted with, variously effecting and effected by, numerous other chains and other lives. It is your duty to do your best, that these links may help your own chain of those other chains.

Indeed, I think this is one great purpose of "Pietisten"—a series of links in chains, that somehow, somewhere, and sometime have connected many of us.

The "should-haves," "could-haves"

I might have written responses to recent Pietisten issues, regarding my earlier life in Minneapolis, a University of Minnesota student living across the alley from Dr. Barton and Molly Nelson baby-sitting for their three boys, and how I rescued Gordon, the few-months-old son, from being totally scrunched between a cushion and back of a sofa and of the wonderful memories of living near and having a close friendship with Bart and Molly, learning from them. I could have responded to links with the past and present with Zenos and Barb Hawkinson—knowing Barb from Minneapolis, Minnehaha, and North Park, student-friends with them both at North Park, and later, colleague-friends with them and Wayne [former North Park Choir Director] and me at North Park. Our strong links to North Park, Karl Olsson and his family; and our very strong connection with our Swedish heritage, largely kindled by the 1966 North Park Choir trip to Sweden. This trip added another connecting link with Ollé and Margit Engström, from the Covenant Seminary in Sweden. This link has been continually strengthened through 30-plus years of letters, calls, visits in Lidingö, Sommieres, and Seattle with them. Many other Pietisten friends across the country and around the world have formed a seemingly endless chain of connecting links.

The "will-dos"

Because our son lived in Atlanta, Georgia, some years ago, we visited there a few times. While traveling through some of the beautiful parts of Georgia, we learned of a phenomenal growth that covered trees, bushes, roadsides, and more called "Kudzu." Since then, I have learned how that growth can cover and, yes, can kill many previously healthy trees and plants. We have seen it in other places, even in our backyard! Not Kudzu, but an equally pesty-growth of vines. Even morning-glory vines, blackberry bushes, and other plant-covering growths can kill trees. If they are not con-trolled, clipped back, or removed by taking the "ax to the root," they can take over enormous areas of good plant life.

I see an analogy to how so much can and does grow over a heretofore healthy Christian life to threaten, choke, or kill it. This is evident in the overwhelming "Kudzu" of materialism—our love of things, money, whatever it is that can rob or choke our basic Christian effectiveness. Also, we can readily see it almost world-wide, in an overwhelming way, in the effect of the internet "way of life." I am not opposed to change or progress, but I use this as a current, potent example. The myriad connections of ideas, people, and information is a kudzu of sorts that has the potential of growing over and choking people around the entire globe. We hear and read about com-puter "viruses," "hackers" who steal information, unwanted child-enticing avenues of destructive information, words, pictures, offers, and so much more.

As Christians in this good, yet complex and sometimes bleak era of our time, we need to be aware of all the "Kudzus" that could rob us of our effectiveness as followers of Christ. Let us continue to share our lives, thoughts and memories—thereby strengthening the existing links in this great "Pietisten Chain," adding more as the years unfold in 2000 and beyond. Dorothy Balch, Seattle, Washington

Many thanks for Pietisten. I liked the article by Christina Ekström on "Moravian Roots." [It] provided an excellent context in which to understand a certain musical tradition and her sharp delineation between the Catholic tendency to choir and the Moravian congregational chant is to the point. One of the more amusing things about the current Mass (leaving aside the miserable translation into English—rise up John Dryden!) is the feeble attempt to get the congregation to sing. Hopeless! Robert Thompson, New York, New York.

The idea about a pietistic folk school sounds great. Do you know that the "father of folkhögskolan" came from Denmark and his name is Nicolai Frederik Grundtvig (1783-1872). I don’t know from where he got his inspiration—maybe from Halle or more likely, from the Moravian school in the Danish Moravian society, Christiansfeld. The Moravians were well-known for their excellent schools—two reasons; They were inspired from Halle as well as from the early Moravian tradition (articulated by Comenius)! One of Comenius’ concepts concerned a folk school—a school for rich and poor, girls and boys.

Actually, I work at a folk school (or folkhögskola). A nice thing about this kind of school is the talk about "folkhögskolemässighet" i.e. that there should be a little more acceptance of differences and for people who have become lost in life as well as taking care of each other a little more than in the regular schools.

Greetings from a nice winter (green and warm) in Sweden. Christina Ekström, Torestorp, Sweden.

To: "Post: Readers Respond"
A poem:
"How nious
to be pious."
David C. Ekberg, Southborough, Massachusetts.

The years, decades, and centuries come and go, but Pietisten continues as a reliable and trusted friend to provide continuity with our past. Its combination of history, heritage, and humor is simply unparalleled. I still subscribe to over sixty journals and periodicals in endeavoring to keep abreast of what’s happening "out there," but Pietisten is one which I read from cover to cover each issue. Long may its flag wave!

Thank you for your review of the Festschrift, Reflections on Bonhoeffer, edited by John Weborg and Geoffrey Kelly. It is still a mystery to me how they could plan and execute such a project without my catching wind of it. That they should camouflage the publication by referring to it as their explorations of Karl Rahner’s spirituality raises sobering ethical implications. At any rate, I remain overwhelmed, surprised, and humbled by this collection of twenty-seven contributions. The pointed irony of it all is that from now on, anyone who is committed to serious Bonhoeffer study and interaction will need to reckon with this book!

Personally, I am now completing my fifth year of "retirement" and enjoying it to the hilt. The term "retirement" is in quotes, because I continue to teach five coursed in ethics and theology at North Park Seminary as a "Research Professor in Christian Ethics." Along with these realities, my appointment as a "Senior Associate" at Oxford University is being extended until 2004. I’ll continue to reside there about three months each year. It does not seem hard to take as a way to greet the retirement years and decades as they relentlessly proceed. In faith and friendship, Burton Nelson, Chicago, Illinois.

I just received the Fall issue of Pietisten in today’s mail and as always I have enjoyed it very, very much. It was good to read Art Anderson’s article (I saw Art over Christmas and heard him preach in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, where he is interim pastor—still preaches great sermons; gives one hope. As always, I appreciated David Hawkinson’s contribution—great insights, David’s good at that. I trust he is feeling well these days). Fred’s [Holmgren] memorial for Sig Westberg moved me; a teacher and friend I loved. I hadn’t hear about Ted Hedstrand’s death, how come our mentors are leaving us? [Phil’s] memorial for his mother-in-law was very touching.

To answer your question in the letter enclosed with this issue ["In the 20th century, the revived Pietisten produced 48 issues counting this one. We wonder if there will be that many in the 21st."], I hope there will be at least four times as many issues of Pietisten in the 21st century. Long may it speak to us and those who come after us. George Elia, Yarmouthport, Massachusetts.

Dear Pietisten, Last year, when Paul [Sebestyén] passed away, we collected money towards a memorial, but were unsure what would be a fitting gift.

Paul lived a long life and knew many people all over Chicago. He was a modest man. He didn’t use the argument from authority: he talked to you, never down to you. The thing that made him a good teacher was that he paid attention when he listened. While at North Park, his time with students was as much spent on the sidewalks and neighborhood parks and cafes as in the classroom. Sometimes when we went to look for him, we would find him sitting on a park bench, elbows on knees, looking over the bits of paper on which he recorded his lecture notes, or just letting his mind travel back over the decades and places he had known, remembering the faces of his friends and family. When we appeared he turned toward us and listened. Somehow he managed to put aside his fears and personal concerns to make himself available. No one was more open and generous with his time.

The world is filled with memorials to great people. Some have their faces on money. Some have buildings or busy streets named after them; some have their statues looking nobly over parkways and intersections. They are more or less impressive and self congratulatory. In their own way they aim to impose themselves into the present.

A few weeks ago Ruth Werster called to invite me to help install a teak bench in the entrance way of Covenant Home. It was a privilege. Ruth was a dear and loyal friend of Paul’s, and deserves our thanks and appreciation for the love with which she took care of him in his last years. Due to her initiative, there now waits a simple open space for the next pair of friends who need a place to sit while they talk. Or perhaps it is for someone who needs rest while they remember. Across the bottom it says, "in Memory of Paul Sebestyén." I think he would have liked it. I hope you approve. Thank you for your gift. Thank you for sharing in remembering Paul. Yours Truly, Lionel Edes, Evanston, Illinois.

If I have missed an issue, please send that back issue! Enjoy each so very much that I’d hate to miss any. Keep up the great work and looking forward to receiving Pietisten into the 21st century. Thanks! Val Rogers, Robinsdale, Minnesota.

I have enjoyed reading David Hawkinson’s "Making of a Reader" series in Pietisten. I attended two of David’s multi-part Old Testament studies during two consecutive years in the Fireside Room of Excelsior Covenant Church in Minnetonka, Minnesota, and was surprised at the depths of the texts he helped unearth.

When, for fifty minutes on a Sunday morning, a handful of paragraphs of Old Testament were scrutinized by twenty-five teetotaling minds, spurred by eons of Covenant history and the odd decade or two of non-Covenant history, under the aegis of David’s very clear and open mind, the Old Testament seemed deeper than the combined depths of the readers, which was pretty deep, I suppose.

Undoubtedly like many others, I have always been a bit intrigued by the issue of true, correct, or right readings. When people get it, they get it in alarmingly different ways. As a rule, I would say that the greatest art (and the Old Testament is the very greatest art) is cooperative or participatory in a fundamental way. We not only react differently from within our intellectual-emotional systems to a given work or piece, we also add to the piece as a piece, leaving it even more pure and undeveloped than when we first approached it.

It strikes me that Dante will never ever be read with finality because, with the Divine Comedy, he was at the very roots of philosophy, theology, and poetry, like a blind mole who has burrowed his way into ultimate mole vision. These roots draw water from someplace pretty dark, pretty clear, and pretty deep. Stephen Gilbert Streed, Sacramento, California.

A much anticipated publication—thanks for keeping our traditions alive and thriving. Jane Bowman Jacobson, Turlock, California.