Memories from the Mission Home
I lived at the Mission Home while I attended classes in St. Paul at Luther-Northwestern Seminary in preparation for my work among the church leaders in Ecuador. I ate my meals at the Mission Home when Margaret was the housekeeper. She put me in the room on the first floor next to the entrance. At times, I felt as though I was the “bouncer” should there be any trouble with any unsavory fellow that might wander in from the street. That never happened but I always felt as though I was there, ready to do the task if need be.
I recall with fondness the times when I would help Margaret wash the dishes after supper. There was always some topic to be discussed and Margaret would tell me stories about her father in China, about Paul and the trip that they had made overland to Nepal, about the life and work of Paul’s father and his death to disease in the 1920’s, about the lives of missionaries that had gone before. But most of all I recall the words about her own life and the married life that she had in the mission. Margaret is a woman of stern stuff, the kind of dedication that reflects a profound trust in the Lord.
Near the end of my year at Luther, an official from the synod offices back home came. He had come to visit me and inquire as to how my studies were going and what the outlook was for my future. He asked me who it was that had the greatest impact on my education while I was in seminary. Without hesitation I told him that it was the woman who was in charge of the Mission Home where I’d lived. The example of Margaret Lindell was the best thing that had happened to me in Minneapolis.
Several years later I got into a discussion with a man about the pros and cons of seminary education. The question was posed to me, “If you were to have a seminary, what kind of curricula would you have?”
“The first thing I would do would be to have Margaret Lindell on the faculty.”
“Aha! You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t take her out of the Mission Home and put her into a classroom. That would negate her skills.”
To which I replied, “Who said anything about putting her into a classroom? Put the students in the kitchen and let them wash dishes with her everyday and then they would open their eyes to the world in different ways.”
The Prayer League has had a wonderful perspective of what it means to understand the service of Jesus and putting it to work in effective and functional ways. I shall always be grateful for the way that I was trained by one of the best teachers I’ve known and in one of the most attractive settings I’ve had the privilege to live in, the house at 228 Clifton Avenue.