“That movie wasn’t at all what I thought it was going to be.”
“Really, what were you expecting?”
“I thought it was going to be funny.”
Funny, as in haha, make fun of Christianity funny? I suppose considering our differing opinions about church, religion and spirituality, it wasn’t a surprise.
Every night, unhindered by the three-channel choices of our youth, we search for good movies. As you are aware many of today’s movies, with or without big-name actors, are SSDD — Same Stuff, Different Day.
Finally, The Jesus Revolution was streaming free on one of our many paid services.
The best movies are based on true stories, and The Jesus Revolution was about Greg Laurie’s coming to Christ.
I loved the movie. I loved the movie because it brought back some of the dearest memories of my high school years in Gackle. I’m not talking about the cool clothes we wore, the long hair, the peace sign or the vernacular. I’m talking about church.
Were we part of the Jesus Revolution in Gackle, a burb of about 500 folks, a local economy and rural peers that rounded out the sports teams at the high school? I think so. For reference, I’m talking about the 70s, and how church changed from childhood.
Early memories of the church include the New Kassel Church my mother’s family attended in rural McIntosh County; St. Luke’s Church in Wishek proper; Martin Luther Lutheran Church in Fredonia; and Emmanuel Lutheran in Gackle.
As a young girl sitting in the sun-filled New Kassel Church, I had a light bulb moment. I saw Meidinger cousins, aunts and uncles filling the small clapboard church surrounded by Meidinger family farms. The building is long gone, but many of my relatives reside in what we lovingly call “the Meidinger cemetery,” the only thing that remains of the New Kassel church.
Out of respect, women wore hats. Couples split between the pews as the men peeled off to sit on the right and the women on the left. Some couples kept that tradition at Emmanuel Lutheran also. Don’t ask me why?
We never attended St. Luke’s in Wishek, however, my dad was confirmed there. We witnessed many weddings there. If I got this correct, Pastor Mertz baptized me in that church in May 1956. He served later at Emmanuel Lutheran in Gackle.
We ran wild as children in Fredonia, my favorite memories. Martin Luther Lutheran Church was about a block and a half from where our family lived in a large two-story house on a corner lot. I recall an outhouse on the west edge of the property and my mother’s two large gardens in the backyard. As a young mother, I attended the funeral of a family friend at Martin Luther. My mother and I stood on the now empty lot, and she said to my daughter, “See that tree over there? If I wanted to find your mother, that’s the first place I looked.”
I remember that tree. I spent a fair amount of time reading books in the arms of that beautiful tree. I wonder do children climb trees anymore?
Well, Martin Luther was a grand old church, still holding services today, I think. We marveled as youngsters at the pastor disappearing from the altar area and reappearing in the pulpit high above our heads. As with the size of the slough next to the old school we attended, the pulpit was much bigger in my young imagination than in reality.
The three pastors I remember from those days were Rev. Ray Heidtke, Rev. Russel Hunter and Rev. Lee Mentink. The parsonage was next to the church, so we were neighbors to these families. My mother also cleaned the church, and my dad rang the bell calling parishioners to worship, funerals or weddings. I spent a lot of time at that church helping Mom and Dad, along with Sunday School and regular services; Christmas Eve was my favorite.
We walked to church in the cold dark evening, my mother’s high heel shoes making a disconnected foot pattern in the fresh snow. There were no sidewalks, and I’m not sure how she navigated the rocky road alongside the ditch in those shoes. After a children’s program, we exited the church with our brown paper bag of candy and peanuts. What a treat, before opening our one present before bedtime. In the morning, it was off to Wishek to visit the grandparents.
When I was 12 years old, we moved to Gackle. Wow, such a change from the tiny town of Fredonia with its gravel roads and half-dome Legion Hall. Gackle was big-time, with a Main Street full of stores and businesses, a three-story high school and a swimming pool.
The Lutheran church in Gackle was new and modern compared to the ornate dark wood of Martin Luther. Sometime in the 70s, our church called a handsome young pastor named Lloyd Miller and our youth group was changed forever.
After attending classes on Saturday mornings, I was confirmed at Emmanuel Lutheran Church. In addition to those classes, we gathered for Luther League on Wednesday evenings. Pastor Miller allowed contemporary music, as long as we didn’t dishonor the altar area of the church with dancing. It was a time of change. We loved the freedom.
During summer break, the Luther League loaded into cars and spent a week away from our parents. One year, we went to the Wisconsin Dells and stayed in a church basement. But, my favorite trips were to the Black Hills Canyon Campgrounds with communion and Bible studies under the stars.
During winter, we sang in the youth choir, practicing for Christmas and Easter Cantatas. We traveled to a couple of other churches to perform. I’m not sure if there was any kickback from the older folks in the congregation, with all this modern music and “fun.”
I love contemporary worship. I know this is a long read to simply say, The Jesus Revolution brought to mind church experiences and how much a part of my life these traditions, old and new, mean to me.
The Jesus Revolution also reminded me my 2023 story would not be the same without my church family and friends praying me through this year’s experiences; reminding me to stand on the promises in the Bible — let’s open it together. Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”
INDYchildrendotme 
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