Tell about a Saint

My neighbor who invited me to church when I was in high school and trusted that the Word of God is enough.

My husband, who is responsible for me hearing the pure Gospel and becoming Lutheran, and who in his vocation as a Lutheran cantor daily brings Gospel comfort to many through music.

My grandparents who were consistent, even when my parents weren’t. They modeled devotions, prayers, reading scripture & the fellowship of believers.

My youth pastor who later became a close friend after I reached adulthood. Despite not always agreeing with him, he is one of the greatest models of godliness in my life in that he one of the most consistent men I have ever known.

My mother’s aunt who lived in Germany during two world wars and the economic collapse between them. A devout Christian, she radiated joy, inner peace and gratitude for the simple blessings in her life. When her son informed me of her death, he wrote that “she was never safe, but always merry and did her work.” Good words for a struggling pilgrim to live by.

My Dad, who baptized me when I was just a few hours old in the hospital, and nurtured that faith the whole time I was growing up, in such a way that though he could be strict, and I stubborn, obstinate, and rebellious, never thought of leaving the faith, and always knew my sins were forgiven. And when later in life being fed a diet of vacuous sermons at the “general protestant service” and being surrounded by so-called Evangelicals, or Born Agains, had the presence of mind to send his son “Sanctification, Christ in Action” by Harold Senkbeil.

My Mom, who always placed a nativity scene under the Christmas tree when I was a kid. It was a “teaching” that stuck. God is the source of all good things. Including toys.

Definitely my Mom, who saw to it that I was baptized as an infant and then nourished that faith by taking me to church every Sunday. She raised me in Presbyterian and Methodist churches; a compromise with my Dad, I’m sure, who had a Baptist background. Hers was as a Lutheran, in the old Augustana Synod. I was baptized in one of their member churches, and now, decades later, have returned to Lutheran roots.

My pastor while in grade school, who was also the father of twins my age. It’s been 46 years since he took another call, but I still reflect on the values he passed on to us either directly or by osmosis. He was not only a theologian, but also a dedicated conservationist.

My Grandmother was an eccentric Christian. She listened to every radio preacher on the dial. When we were finally able to receive the religious station on free TV, she was glued to that. She read her Bible constantly, even reading it in Spanish (not that she spoke Spanish). She frequently wearied the pastors by her coming-in-from-left-field comments during Bible class. I will always be amazed, however, by the fact that she spoke to everyone she encountered about her faith. We’d take her to do her grocery shopping, she’d finish, and we’d find her waiting for us on the bench out front talking about Jesus to whomever was sitting there. She kept a log of people to whom she spoke; upon her death she had recorded over 6,000 encounters.

First, my dear parents who kept bringing my brothers and me to church, they “made” us go all through high school. Didn’t appreciate this many Sundays, but I’m sure thankful now.

In my church, where I grew up (Good Shepherd Lutheran in Boise), some real saints were my pastors and Sunday School teachers. In the younger grades it was all moms (my own included) who began teaching us the stories of the Old and New Testament, giving us simple and fun songs about Christ and His love and also showing us their own love for the Lord.

After that, by some miracle, the 4th-8th grade Sunday School teachers were all male volunteers! (As a pastor seeking such service today – the greatness of this miracle astounds me more and more). One a dear elderly man who is now with Jesus, and the rest dads in the congregation, another one of whom is also with the Lord, they taught us the truth of the Word, had fun with us, and showed to me and my classmates a male grown-up version of the faith. It was great, though I didn’t appreciate it near enough at the time – and as I grow older I appreciate the service and sacrifice that these Sunday mornings meant for all of these mothers and fathers, volunteer servants of the Lord (from all sorts of walks of life).

There are many, many more that come to mind.

Let me mention one more lady saint, now gone to be with Jesus this past year, who has been very encouraging to me. Quite elderly, in the relatively short time that I was privileged to get to know her. She’s one of those ladies saints who in my youth, I would have completely overlooked, in serving her, I was privileged to come to an understanding regarding her deep devotional life of prayer – and also begin to glimpse the strength and gift of that deep love for Jesus for the sake of her children and our little congregation here in Salt Lake City. Dear Ruth, rest in peace, rejoicing now always in the presence of her Savior and all the Saints who’ve gone before!

My father: I saw him practice his Christianity quietly but faithfully day by day. He took my sister and me to church (my mother was NOT a believer) and was an active member. When he died, his tiny congregation turned out to honor him and support my unbelieving mother. (Sadly, she never came to Christ that I knew.)

My great aunt Dorothy, who died this year, for waking up each morning at 5 to pray for each of her nieces, nephews, grand-nieces, and grand-nephews.

All of my Lutheran school teachers, all pastors I have had (I never had a bad one), even the people of the congregations: some of whom are my friends.

My Mom’s co-worker, who was LCMS, who “encouraged” my Mom, an un-believer, to have me baptized as a child in the LCMS. For starting me in the Faith of our Fathers.

Remembering my Dad, Richard Lambert who passed away earlier this year. He took seriously his responsibility as the head of our family to raise me in the Christian faith. Even after he and my mother divorced, he continued to take my brother and me to church.

You know, the older you get, the more dead people you know. That’s a big pile of saints for me to pick through, and a bunch have made the first round. The pastor who confirmed me was fresh out of the seminary and very excited about his vocation. To him, Luther’s Small Catecism was so exciting, so we just memorized it all. Well, large parts. Then, for Confirmation, we had the test before the elders, without knowing which question we’d be asked, and then recite the memorized answers before the elders and the whole congregation. It’s the way it was done way back then, and no I didn’t get it all right and had to be helped a couple of times. I’m brilliant with a lot of help.

I was so jacked-up with the teachings of the church and bible passages, that I wanted to go work in missions in China (especially after I saw Ingrid Bergman in The inn of the sixth happiness). So, Pastor said to may parents, why don’t you consider a synodical high school? So, my sister and I wound up spending high school at St. John’s in Kansas.

Whenever, I look back at my life and my salvation, this Pastor is the one whose influence was the most consequential, that laid down the bedrock on which so much else was built. My mother’s rock solid faith is another anchor for me, but that saint is still with me, everyday, very able and active at 86, a daily blessing from Jesus.

My mom died about 2 years ago.

She came to the Lutheran Church around the time I was born.

She was a flawed sinful woman with alot of idols. I believe that her understanding that that was so, was why she love her Jesus so very much.

She had this amazing quality: Muriel would never become defensive when someone would point out an error or flaw or weakness in her own self. She would readily confess and ask for forgiveness.

God chose that sinful human named Muriel Elaine Culp Sonnek to bring me to Christ in the waters of Holy Baptism.

I am so very grateful for that.

My grandfather (who was a Lutheran pastor for 55 years) and my grandmother who prayed for all of their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren by name every evening. They set the example of faithful family devotions and church attendance for the whole family.

It was not at all unusual to go to the bank with Grandpa and have him ask the cashier whether she knew about Jesus. I went on a trip to Oberammergau with him (and a whole tour group) in 2000 and drove him crazy with my showing up at 7:20 for the “7 – 7:30 breakfast” (it does not take me 30 minutes to eat a single roll).

Grandma was sick for many years and was the perfect person to sit and talk quietly with or even just be together reading. She was an excellent correspondent and kept tabs on the whole family. Even when just standing up to cook was painful – she was stubborn about doing it every single night. They modeled a quiet faithfulness every day.

I am thankful for my mother. She was very intelligent and hard-working, as well as beautiful, and could have been anything she wanted; yet she “gave it all up” to raise her five children on a dairy farm.

She spent many years teaching Sunday School at our St. Paul’s Lutheran Church. I remember her patience. One young grade school girl, who wanted to grow up too early, cried and cried one Sunday morning because she had to attend Sunday School. Mom just patiently mopped up her mascara-dripping eyes and went on to lovingly teach the lesson.

Mom was very organized as a homemaker. We cleaned the house from top to bottom on Saturday mornings. On Saturday nights, she studied her Sunday School lesson. She loved Jesus, and didn’t gossip or put down non-religious people.

Mom now suffers with intense pain and is disabled, yet there are no complaints. If my life is lived half as well, that would be a good thing.

Just noticing everyone is talking about saints who have passed away. Oh well. My dad isn’t passed, but he is still a saint, to be sure a sinner too. But a saint.
Suppose if I was going to think of those who passed recently, I might think of Kurt Marquart.

Bror, fwiw, I for one didn’t name someone who has passed away. My husband is alive and well!

My grandmother who always talked to me about Jesus and taught me hymns from the age of 3. She was the first person I remember telling me about him. She once said “I don’t want you to just be a good person, I want you to believe in Jesus.” Wow what an amazing lady.

My Dad. He was an LCMS pastor who went to be with the Lord this summer after 10 years with Alzheimer’s.

From the time I was a teenager, we didn’t get along very well, perhaps because we are so very much a like. But from him there is a list of qualities as long as my arm that I received from him that make me who I am, things like humor and compassion, but also worry and anger. But what can I say? He was a sinful man and a faithful man, and I know I am the first part and trust I am the second. Praise God he baptized me and brought me up in the way I should go, so that when I am old I will not depart from it. Thanks be to God for all the Saints like my dad.