Memorial Service Sermon for Len Berghaus. February 11, 2023

I was honored and blessed to preach at the Memorial Service for Len Berghaus at Grace Lutheran Church, River Forest, IL, on February 11, 2023. You can view both the bulletin and the entire service, filled with wonderful music offered to the glory of God.

Judy, Debbie, Todd, Brian, and Sue; family and friends; sisters and brothers in Christ, grace be unto you and peace in the name God the Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

1. A few weeks ago, on January 15, during the prelude here at Grace, the lights suddenly went out and the organ went silent. While ComEd would soon report, and then fix, a power outage in our neighborhood, one couldn’t help but wonder if the organ itself was mourning. It was, after all, the first Sunday since Len’s death. Maybe the organ, rebuilt by Berghaus nearly forty years ago, and lovingly cared for by the company ever since, simply couldn’t see how it could continue on. I don’t really think the world works that way, but maybe that’s how we feel in these weeks since Len left us. How do we move forward? Certainly, Len’s life was intertwined with the worship and music of Grace. My first memories of Len are of him tuning the continuo organ on Sunday afternoons in preparation for Bach Cantata Vespers. He was a fixture in the south balcony, adding his voice to the choir’s praise. And when he could no longer sing in the choir, he took his place in the nave, where we would see him week after week, sitting – and not talking – during both prelude and postlude. He had opinions, and wasn’t shy about sharing them, but he was also ready with a smile and a word of gratitude or encouragement. Rooted in the faith that was for so long nourished at Grace, Len lived out other vocations in the world. Teacher and organ builder, yes, but also husband, father, grandfather, friend. Len, it goes without saying, will be missed by many, and missed deeply.
2. Len’s love of music was rooted in his faith, in his love for the church. He loved the church because he loved the gospel of Jesus Christ. Good news, the only good news that mattered, for sinners like him, and for sinners like you and me. Perhaps this is why, before finding his way to organ building, he answered the call to be a Lutheran educator, beloved by his students at Grace English and Jehovah, children he not only taught academically but also helped to know the Lord. And of course, that love for children was most clearly lived out in his family, with the four of you, and then for your children, too. From providing for Lutheran educations to finishing up dinner on the island just in time to catch God’s handiwork in a Lake Michigan sunset, Len sought to impart a sense of God’s love, and I know he had a sense of receiving God’s love from each of you.
3. Jesus today reminds us that the Kingdom of God belongs to children; that to enter the Kingdom of Heaven we must change and become like children. This change is not our work but is given to us as a gift. Baptized into the death and resurrection of Christ, we find ourselves forgiven and free, no longer bound by old wounds or hampered by hurting hearts. With childlike wonder we can marvel at the mechanics of an organ, receive a sunset as a gift, delight in the company of a dog, all things Len loved. Clothed in the righteousness of Christ and dressed in the love of God, we find ourselves fit for the Kingdom. We could never get there on our own; thank God we have not been left to our own devices. By the grace of God, Jesus died and was raised for our sake and salvation, that no child of God need be lost ever again.
4. It is to this God of grace that we turn today. We come with our grief and our sadness, knowing that God meets us in our sorrow. But we also come with praise, knowing that God will not leave us in our sorrow. And we come with hope, trusting our future to God. The word of Christ dwells in us richly, St. Paul reminds us. Through that word we move forward from this day with compassion and kindness, humility and meekness, patience and forgiveness. In this way we bear witness to the hope on which Len staked his life, the hope that has now been fulfilled for Len in the power and promise of the resurrection.
5. Very near the end of his life, a few of us gathered around Len’s bed to celebrate Holy Communion. I’m not sure Len really knew any longer who I was, but I think he knew Jesus. He knew that Jesus was there for him in the gifts of body and blood. And I know that Jesus knew Len in that moment, as in all moments, and was present to prepare Len for the heaven that was just around the corner for this child of God. So, too, do we enter today in the very presence of Christ. As he gives himself to you again in body and blood, he restores to you the gift of childlike faith. Faith that, even in grief, clings to Christ. As we gather around this feast, and again around a different sort of feast in Fellowship Hall, we catch a glimpse of Isaiah’s vision of that day when we will feast in the presence of the God who has done away with death.
6. With faith renewed and hope restored, God calls us again to the song. The psalmist calls us to praise God with pipes and to add our voices, too. You, my friends, are children of God. For you, death is not the end. For Len, death is not the end. To the God of life, we sing our praise. Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Alleluia. Amen.

And now may that peace that passes all understanding keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus, this day and forever. Amen.