What I learned from my father

What is your passion, and what are you doing about it? These two questions confronted me in a recent Sunday school class.

Immediately, my thoughts went back to my father. There was never a doubt in my mind what his passion was. He worked at his job during the day and served tirelessly in the church, but his passion in life was winning people for Christ.

On the day I was born – it was a Sunday morning – he was preaching in one of the German colony churches in Paraguay. When we moved to Germany in 1954 he decided to attend Bible school for several years, even though financially it was very trying for the family and he had to leave my mother and three small children at home. When he came back for weekends or holidays he brought flannel pictures of Bible stories, invited all the children in the neighbourhood, and conducted Sunday school. This was quite an undertaking in a town where any evangelical church was considered a sect.

I remember him visiting people who had been written off by society and by the church. Once we visited a hermit who had cut all bonds to society. I can still see the huge, dilapidated, war-marked building and dingy hallways that led to the small cluttered room where he lay dying. Though too young to understand the conversation that took place that day, I learned that every human being has value and is in need of a Saviour.

Being a friend

Heinrich Loewen with daughter Marianne

Then there was Lino, an 18-year-old Gastarbeiter (guest worker) from Italy at my dad’s place of employment. He was very unhappy, because his co-workers teased him mercilessly. When my dad approached Lino, who spoke a limited German, and declared, “Du bist mein amigo!” (You are my friend), a lifelong friendship was forged. Lino began to visit us regularly and some time later prayed the sinner’s prayer.

As Germany accepted increasingly more foreign workers, my father saw it as an opportunity for evangelism. He ordered tapes, Bibles and brochures in a number of languages and visited these men from countries like Greece, Turkey and Lebanon. He walked to their barracks on the outside of town, where they lived a very separate life. The fact that they were strangers to him, with a foreign language and culture, was no deterrent to him. He saw in them the face of Christ and wanted them to experience God’s love as he had.

During our last years in Germany, before we moved to Canada, my father made contact with several families from Yugoslavia who had already been approached by the Jehovah Witnesses. With the help of a few of their younger men who could act as translators, he began to conduct Bible studies with them in our church. Eventually, they found their way into our church community, brought many others with them, and are still making valuable contributions there as well as in their homeland.

What matters

My dad passed away in 1997, at age 70. When he left this world, only the eternal fruits of his labour on earth mattered. He had understood this concept early in his Christian life and implemented it daily.

As I moved from recollections of my father to answering the questions of passion for myself, I had to admit that some of my passions in life – good and life enhancing as they are – would not have any eternal value as my dad’s greatest passion had. I was challenged that Sunday morning to re-evaluate my life priorities and how I choose to spend my time, money and efforts.

Marianne Dulder is co-editor of the Mennonitische Rundschau, the German MB periodical.