08 September 2025

About that trip…

…so Cindi and I promised Carlo before we went to the Netherlands that we’d set aside our usual zero carb diet and just enjoy whatever food he recommended. We enjoyed an Indonesian “Rice Table” one evening, a dutch “pancake” one evening, some schnitzel and numerous pastries and desserts. Unusually for me, I mostly forewent my wine and enjoyed numerous drafts of Swinkel beer. I left home weighing 175.8, already a tad high. And?

I came home weighing 187.6. All that talk about how folks LOSE weight eating European food? Not at all true for me (or Cindi!). By the time we got home, I felt bloated, my ankles were swollen, and was just definitely not my usual chipper self. 

We had decided we’d immediately head back to our zero carb diet. The result? It’s still early days, only the fifth morning after I recorded that high weight. But this morning, I weighed in at 176.4, so about a half pound heavier than when I left. The ankles are no longer swollen. Was able to run sprints this morning and each day I’ve felt better and better. 

Whew! The experiment convinced me that we’re on the right track with eliminating the carbbage. The treats we enjoyed were indeed tasty, but my body is telling me: “Thank you for returning to normal!” 
P.S. And about that jacket. Carlo told us to be sure and bring a windbreaker for the frequent rain. I didn’t have one, so looked at Dollar General. Nada. Went over to Loves. Found that one. It was pricey, though, and I had no idea why. But it fit well, and it had a cool bear on it. Cindi is the one to break the news: it costs so much because it is a NFL jacket for the Chicago Bears. I’m serious: I couldn’t have named a football team from Chicago if I tried. So now, I look like a Bears fan. I’m not a fan of ANY sports team. But I like my jacket, pricey though it was. 

04 September 2025

A Wonderful Trip

I was more than a tad skeptical, given the amount of activities and traveling that the VanUlfts had planned: but it was truly an awesome experience. We flew to Amsterdam arriving on Monday, August 25th and leaving again from there on September 3rd. We visited all around the Netherlands, a trip to Brugge in Belgium, and to Germany (lovely Monschau and then visiting the Moselle river valley and a wine festival and also Aachen); we spent four nights in a castle in the Limberg province of the Netherlands; I got to drive a new BMW on the Autobahn and do outrageous speeds; we forsook our carnivore diet and ate whatever tasty treat Carlo introduced us to; and I enjoyed numerous drafts of Swinkel beer. We visited Delft, Kinderdijk, Maastricht, Aachen, Het Loo and too many other spots to name. William of Orange seemed to be everywhere (yes, he’s the William of Williamburg and the College of William and Mary in VA). The men lost spectacularly at four-handed pinochle. And we arrived home safely last evening about 8 p.m. A few pics: 





15 August 2025

Old and Dear Friends

I’ll never forget when I first met Robert and Candy Esch. They came to St. Paul’s in the 1990’s, and I think our mutual friend, Charlie Grinstead, had more than a little hand in that. Candy had been raised in Chile (her dad a diplomat) and she still has that fascinating Latin reserve about her; Robert, well, not so much. Give him the impossible to do first, then he’ll tackle the extremely difficult. 

He wasn’t at St. Paul’s long before he informed me that if we wanted to have a decent musical program we had to expand the balcony. I was thinking to myself: uh-huh. The congregation dearly loved their building, and I just couldn’t see them allowing some newbie to monkey with it. His response? “Watch.” So he drew up an architectural scheme to expand the balcony by anchoring an I-beam in the two forward buttresses and then cantilevering out to it. It all sounded sketchy to me, but what do I know about architecture? He and Candy also donated not a little bit of the cost. The long and short of it, he convinced the congregation! We have a spacious balcony (well, spacious compared to what it was!). The musical program look off. Soon we had timpani in the balcony (courtesy of Robert and Candy)  and room for all sorts of accompanying musicians. He ended up being choir director for some time and taught the choir to sing “Joy to the Heart” (still one of my favorites). He loved to do what he called “production numbers” like that. 

Charlie, Bob and I also played a bit of racquet ball together. Charlie and I mostly just ran after the balls as Bob consistently sent them into impossible positions to return. His specialty was having the ball land right at the front wall and simply roll back. He’d twirl his racquet in his hand and laugh every time he nailed that shot, and Charlie and I would look at each other and sigh in exasperation. After Charlie’s untimely death, Robert and I played on for a bit. But him and against only one of us was rather impossible. I remember one day when I was boring him to death with my ineptitude and he decided to give me a particularly challenging shot and said: “See Bill run. Run, Bill, run.” (You have to have been old enough to learn to read from those books: “See Spot run. Run, Spot, run.”) I was laughing so hard there was no way I could get to the ball. And there was the time I returned the ball so hard, it hit Bob in the back of the head. Yikes. He turned to me, his eyes closed, and he slumped down against the wall. He passed out! I was ready to call an ambulance, but when he came to, he opened up his eyes, got back on his feet, and insisted we finish the game. Which, of course, he won. He always won. Like always.

The man over the years had a landscaping business, a financial planning business (Cindi was his office manager for more than 20 years with that), a stone business, he flew hot air balloons, and he piloted airplanes. In fact, his last airplane he built from a kit in his garage. He wanted to take me up in it, and I flatly refused. He is generous to a fault. I remember when he moved his business to Troy, he purchased a year’s worth of box seats at the Fox Theatre, and whenever he didn’t need them for business associates, he generously let us use them. So Cindi, the kids, and I got to see numerous productions. It was way out of our league, but we sure enjoyed ourselves that year! 

On the 20th anniversary of my ordination, the congregation surprised me by inviting Dr. Norman Nagel to preach. Dr. Nagel so charmed Bob and Candy, that they insisted we all go out to together to Bob’s favorite restaurant over in St. Louis: Al’s. What a delightful evening that was! The good Dr. and Betsy held forth royally and even when Dr. Nagel ordered an Australian favorite, they readily prepared for him, and he said it was excellent. Of course, we finished off the evening with Al’s famous Banana’s Foster! We were all grateful to Robert and Candy for the great memory.

And then there are his exploits with his long-suffering wife. Like when he decided she needed to get licensed for scuba diving, or needed to learn to play bag pipes, or whatever he happened to think up next! Candy came home one day to find all of her spices rearranged, put in alphabetical order! (Seriously?) And then there was the time she came home to find that he’d emptied her refrigerator (and right before a Christmas dinner) because he decided that the fridge needed to go to his mother! Life with Robert Esch is many things, but it is always an adventure and never a bore. It’s sort of “buckle your seatbelts!”

Candy was a popular teacher in our school: she loved literature and the kids she taught ended up loving literature too. She was one of those teachers that the kids just WANTED to please. They learned from her and respected her and she opened up new vistas to them. I personally loved the times we got to visit at the school after class. Love that lady so, so much. 

In recent years both have had some significant health issues, and they finally decided it was time to move down to South Carolina to be with their daughter Liz and granddaughter Bella. So we went out for lunch, to remember all the crazy and joyous times, and to remind them that we have a guest room ready for whenever they come back this way. 

Bob and Candy, we love you both more than words can say. And we’re really, really going to miss you both!






07 August 2025

The Rev. Henry Gerike+

Word reached today that Henry fell asleep in Jesus last night. We became friends when we were both at seminary together. He had in earlier years served as a teacher, and of course, always as a musician, but the Spirit tugged at his heart to follow his father’s path into the Office of the Holy Ministry. I remember in my fourth year right before graduation, he took Cindi and me out to visit his brother-in-law and sister at St. Paul’s, Wood River, and he gave me Neuhaus’ Freedom for Ministry, which truly was the greatest gift that could be given to a man about to embark on his first call. 

When I ended up coming back to Hamel (where I had been fieldworker) as pastor, Henry and I got to work together again on Lutheran Musician Enrichment. I remember he and I had a delightful disagreement at one of the sessions. I wanted the Alleluia sung with zip and joy; Henry insisted that joy could be slow and solemn too. He wasn’t wrong, of course, (but neither was I). The exchange sticks with me because it so characterized the man. He MOVED slowly. He MOVED deliberately. He didn’t gulp, he savored. And this also showed in his tendency to savor music. Whether he was conducting or composing, he most often mirrored that intention to go slow and to milk delight out of every last note and nuance. 

When I started at the IC as Chaplain and Director of Worship, Henry became my unofficial watchdog. He never quite trusted, I don’t think, my lack of musical training, and so he was always there to offer a musician’s perspective on the doing of things. Yes, sometimes he irritated the daylights out of me, but mostly he was invaluable and right. I can’t count the number of times he served us as organist at the IC; he was always ready to lend a hand. And he was inventive! We were to sing LSB 471, “O Sons and Daughters of the King.” He decided it MUST have some percussion. He sent me scurrying down to Missions in the hope of a tambourine. Alas, nothing. Did that stop him? Oh, no. He found some change, put it in the metal pencil holder on the organ, and instructed me in the rhythm I was to rattle it! It sounds crazy, but (as usual) it worked. 

SO if Henry had an idea, well, he knew how to just keep hammering away until you gave in. And you were usually glad in the end that you did. It was really cute. He’d bring the idea up like for the first time and invite your buy-in. Even it you’d said “no” twenty times before. You see, if you didn’t buy-in, he didn’t give up. He’d just wait. And then he’d suggest it anew, and always as a fresh brand new idea. He was giving you ample opportunity to repent of rejecting the idea! That was what it was like to work with him: a man markedly humble, and yet doggedly stubborn about what he thought was best. Thanks be to God that he mostly got his way! He was the guiding spirit of both of the liturgical institutes I was privileged to work on with him. 

When our mutual friend and mentor, Dr. Norman Nagel was incapacitated with a stroke, Henry was such a faithful visitor. He stopped in regularly and read him some Kretzmann, some Lewis, some Luther. Dr. Nagel might nod off, and Henry would pause and wait for him to wake up and then continue. He was a good and faithful friend. 

A few years ago, I got to put together a service of celebration of the music and ministry of our dear Henry. It was held at Village Lutheran Church in Ladue and Jonathan Kohrs served as the organist. It featured much of Henry’s music, and the whole was woven together via a letter that Henry’s sainted father had sent him when he was in college. Pr. Scott Schilbe would read a section from the letter, and I’d comment briefly to connect the words to some piece of Henry’s music. It will always be a highlight of my life being able to participate in that celebration of my dear friend’s music and service. 

I wonder if the dear Lord Jesus had his holy angels sing “Up through Endless Ranks” for Henry as he made his homecoming, to await in the Lord’s presence the great fulfillment of all His promises in the resurrection of the dead and the life everlasting? Thank you, Lord, for the gift of your servant. For his music. For his life and now for his death. Soli Deo Gloria!



21 July 2025

A Follow up on Dr. Egger’s Presentation

At Making the Case Conference. Someone asked if accepting the creation account as history entails accepting Bishop Usher’s dating schema. It struck me again how poor Usher gets the blame. Actually, if you go back in time to the Kalends read in the Office on Christmas Morning, you used to hear (I’ll just give the English):

In the year from the creation of the world, when God in the beginning created heaven and earth, five thousand one hundred and ninety-nine:


From the flood, the year two thousand nine hundred and fifty-seven:


From the birth of Abraham, two thousand and fifteen:


From Moses and the going out of the people of Israel from Egypt, one thousand five hundred and ten:


From the anointing of David as king, one thousand and thirty-two:


In the sixty-fifth week according to the prophecy of Daniel:


In the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad:


From the foundation of the city of Rome, the seven hundred and fifty-second year:


In the forty-second year of the reign of Octavian Augustus,


The whole world being in peace,


In the sixth age of the world,


Jesus Christ, the eternal God and Son of the eternal Father,


willing to consecrate the world by his most loving coming,


having been conceived of the Holy Spirit, and having passed nine months since his conception,


is born in Bethlehem of Judah of the Virgin Mary, being made man…


Would you care to take a guess at how it reads now in the Roman Communion? Hmm???


when ages beyond number had run their course

from the creation of the world,

when God in the beginning created heaven and earth,

and formed man in his own likeness;*


when century upon century had passed

since the Almighty set his bow in the clouds after the Great Flood,

as a sign of covenant and peace;


in the twenty-first century since Abraham, our father in faith,

came out of Ur of the Chaldees;


in the thirteenth century since the people of Israel were led by Moses

in the Exodus from Egypt;


around the thousandth year since David was anointed king;


in the sixty-fifth week of the prophecy of Daniel;


in the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad;


in the year seven hundred and fifty-two since the foundation of the City of Rome;


in the forty-second year of the reign of Caesar Octavian Augustus,

the whole world being at peace,


Jesus Christ, eternal God and Son of the eternal Father,


desiring to sanctify the world by his most merciful coming,


was conceived by the Holy Spirit,


and when nine months had passed since his conception,


was born of the Virgin Mary in Bethlehem of Judah, and was made man:


I hardly need to comment that Scripture hasn’t changed a whit. You tell me, please, who is representing the old faith in this current world better? Would someone like Pope St. Gregory the Great even understand how the Kalends of Christmas now read? What about Robert Bellarmine? 


After hearing Dr. Eggert lay out the Biblical case for reading six days as, well, six days, I was reminded of something written by St. Basil the Great: 


Now twenty-four hours fill up the space of one day—we mean of a day and of a night; and if, at the time of the solstices, they have not both an equal length, the time marked by Scripture does not the less circumscribe their duration. It is as though it said: twenty-four hours measure the space of a day—St. Basil the Great, Hexameron, Homily 2, par. 8. 


The modern Orthodox have tended to abandon Basil on this; Rome has certainly abandoned its old faith. And there we stubborn LCMS Lutherans sit. STILL holding to the faith of our fathers. May He keep us firm in it forevermore!


20 July 2025

And that’s another Making the Case in the books…

We got a pic with newish Lutherans who came into communion with us after hearing the Whitman (Ten Minute Bible Hour) interviews:


If you missed the conference, you FOR SURE want to ask someone to tell you about Hans Fiene’s wonderful presentation, especially his own “parable” that filled our hearts with such joyful consolation.

And a pic of the final procession as we headed out singing “Go, My Children”. We had quite a number of folks stay through the closing Eucharist: