The summer before Tera and I were married, we bought a marimba together.
A quick story: Rev. Paul Setterholm was a missionary in Japan following World War II (1952-1975) and needed a way to lead hymns when conducting worship. In an era when pianos and keyboards weren’t readily available, especially in some of the rural areas, Paul would drive from place to place, transporting his 4 octave instrument (think big xylophone with more resonance) and family in their little car, to share the good news of Jesus in a landscape still reeling from the devastation of war.
In each location, Pastor Setterholm would not only preach a sermon and preside over Holy Communion, but would also be the musician along with his wife and children. Huddling around the six foot long instrument, there was plenty of room for a variety of mallets to play multiple melody and harmony parts for congregational songs.
Many years later, I was in several bands with Paul’s son, Joel, while we both lived in Minneapolis. When visiting his parents in the area, Joel’s dad would often play for us. I marveled at the beauty of the rosewood keys and the deep rich tone pouring from the instrument and heard story after story about this incredible instrument played around the world!
Toward the end of Paul’s life, I had the opportunity to purchase the marimba. Even though we weren’t sharing bank accounts, yet, I knew that I had to consult my future bride if I wanted to entertain the idea of any additional percussion instruments being brought into our soon-to-be home. Not to mention spending a hefty amount of money while we were trying to save up for a wedding.
Fast-forward 30 years. The instrument now lives in our home and continues to bring joy to many as it approaches its 90th birthday. Our youngest child is a percussionist, too, and has spent years playing and studying percussion, including hours and hours of scales on the 1938 Deagan marimba. The same rich tone I first heard in North Minneapolis now resonates in West Chester.
My good friend Joel died Thanksgiving weekend following several years of living with cancer. While his physical presence is gone, his intelligent humor, expansive compassion, musical legacy, and yearning for justice and peace in the name of Jesus will continue to loom large in our lives and home.
Legacy is a powerful thing. Our lives are a beautiful collection of those we meet. Each conversation, meal, walk, and moments of collaboration make an imprint in our lives and faith.
As we approach the threshold of a new year, I invite you to give thanks for those who have impacted your life and faith. If they are still living, take a moment to visit, call, text, or write and share a word of gratitude for their impact on your life. At the same time, consider how God is using you—in a myriad of ways—to pass on the gifts of faith. Your compassionate and courageous words, bold and loving actions, generous financial contributions, and grace-laced prayers have the power to bring transformation and renewal.
“Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred let me sow love; Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith; Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light; Where there is sadness, joy.”
- Saint Francis of Assisi
You might not see it or feel it, but that doesn’t mean that the promises of Jesus don’t resonate through your life to bring hope and joy to the world.
Come, Lord Jesus, come!
Pastor Lowell