I is for Introducing

the next editor of this newsletter, Todd Murken. He is the unanimous choice of The Crossings Community's Board of Directors -- my unanimous choice, too. He begins his duties officially with the next issue but, unwilling to wait that long to show him off, we asked him to say a few words now already by way of self-introduction. (See his remarks under N, G and S.) Yet now that I've read what he wrote I fear he misunderstood the assignment. Or on second thought, did I?

As you'll see in Todd's paragraphs below, it is his nature -- theologians would say, his second nature, post-baptismal -- to point beyond himself, always to Someone else. (Maybe that is a "self-introduction" after all.) You might say that pointing beyond himself, to you-know-Whom, is his middle name. In fact, his two middle initials are BC (tBCm), which until today have always tempted me to nickname him "Butch Cassidy." (That is all the more tempting when you see him with his nine-year-old, Nathaniel, whose very vigor compels the name "Sundance Kid.") But as of today I realize finally how natural it is for Todd to resist being shown off and how, like John the Baptizer, he directs attention instead to that other One in his life. His parents must have had a christological premonition when they christened him "B.C." For that matter they might just as appropriately have initialed him "A.D." For as you'll soon read, that is what drives Todd Murken, the One he follows after. Watch him bring to this editorship what it most needs, discipleship, a following -- after the only real Adventurer.

Christ's kind of adventurousness rubs off on his followers. In Todd's case that strikes you the moment you meet the venturesome woman he succeeded in marrying, Giselle Berninghaus. (Their answering machine announces, "You have reached the Murken-Berninghaus-hold.") Giselle, too, is a pastor and she and Todd began their pastoring in far northern Maine, where Nathaniel was born. So was her love of skiing. But it wasn't until fifteen years after seminary, after she had had Anastasia (now four), served as a pastor in Illinois and helped Todd complete his doctorate, that she finally was able to realize her original call, the one which led her to seminary in the first place: deaf ministry. Her "Hands of Christ Deaf Ministry" is not a congregation but a ministry to deaf and their families who remain members of their own congregations (Lutheran, Episcopal, Presbyterian, UCC, United Methodist, Roman Catholic.) If Todd needs an example of pioneering followership he doesn't have far to look.

There is another woman in his life. Yesterday when I phoned she had gotten Todd up early enough to head for nearby Lake Winnebago to watch the sunrise, eat breakfast and then take him sailing for an hour. So what if she is only in the first grade? Bear in mind her name is Anastasia, which in Greek means someone scheduled for resurrection. Already she seems to be in training for that event. And so, thanks to her Giselle-like magnetism, is her father. No wonder, given such leaders for him to follow, he himself is the leader he is. And sure enough, by afternoon he in turn had Nathaniel out biking, each one outpacing the other. By evening, as if he hadn't yet had enough, Todd himself was out rowing across the same lake where "the rising one" had helped him start the day. All this on Todd's day off, before he heads back to his interim pastorate in Green Bay. You get the impression that Whoever is setting the pace for this family must be exhilarating company.

Deliberately I have said nothing about Todd's accomplishments as a professional theologian, an ecumenist, a preacher and teacher, a writer. I'm counting on having that show from his future work in this newsletter. Meanwhile you know what -- correction: Whom -- to look for.

rwb