Len Dale was in a serious car wreck when he was in college,
and the aftermath sent him down a new path, though not necessarily an
unfamiliar one. He was a pastor’s kid, and what struck him as a boy was how fun
that life seemed. “Seeing people get together,” Len said, “they always had a
great time.” Yet when Len went to college, he chose general studies. Then came
Easter break during his second year of college and a car ride to California
with five buddies.
On the return trip, they were worried about getting back to
school on time. “Our car hit a cement hospital sign,” Len said. “Three of us
were thrown out of the car. We were physically torn up. I suffered a broken
right hand and wrist, and torn diaphragm that resulted in my stomach and spleen
going up to collapse my left lung. Dave, who was directly in front of me, died
in the accident.” As Len spent the next three months recovering from his
injuries, he said, he felt a range of negative emotions including anger and
frustration. “Then while I was in recovery, and I know this is going to sound
weird, but a person came into the room and put a piece of paper on my chest,”
Len said. “He said, ‘I don’t know what to say but maybe this will help.’” Then
the person left without ever introducing himself to Len or explaining how he
even knew he was in the hospital.
Len opened the paper and saw that it was a scripture
passage, Philippians 4:6-7, which states that we should have no anxiety, but to
pray with thanksgiving and the peace of God will guard our hearts and minds
through Christ Jesus. “That was a turning point for me,” Len said. After
reading that passage, he began to grasp God’s grace and just what faith meant. That
was in 1969.
Len had begun dating his future wife, Anne, before the
wreck. “We first met when we were in the same third-grade class at Wichita
Lutheran School,” Anne said. “Years later, we were re-introduced at St. John's
College, Winfield, Kansas by a mutual friend.” They married in 1971, by which
time Len had decided to enter Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, Missouri. “I
wasn't surprised that Len was enrolled in the Pre-Ministerial Program,” Anne
said, “since his father was a Lutheran pastor in Wichita. Plus, our mutual
friend said Len had been active for years in Lutheran youth leadership roles
throughout the Kansas District. At that point in our freshman year, I knew seminary
and Len were a package deal.”
When Len left the Missouri Synod seminary, the Lutheran
School of Theology in Chicago became his alma mater. Of the Missouri synod, Len
said, “None of it was me. It was too much legalism.” While at seminary, Len and
a buddy started a home improvement business to make ends meet. Len graduated
and received his first call in 1975.
Now, 41 years later, Len has recently retired from the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA,) though ministry will always be a part of him. As he looks back, he sees an
incredibly rewarding journey.
 |
| Len Dale in the theater where Hope Lutheran congregation met |
“Anne is nine months pregnant,” Len said, “and we’re driving
our ’70 Vega from St. Louis to Minnesota. As soon as we got off the interstate,
there was a huge snowstorm. Anne is scraping ice off the windshield with a
credit card, and crying ‘Why are we doing this.’” Len wondered too for that
moment just what they had gotten themselves into. Yet it became the place where
their daughter and two sons were born, and where they remained for 11 years.
Len spent many hours after first moving to Minnesota
building relationships within the community, which would translate into
building a congregation. He knocked on doors to meet people, got involved in
community events, led parenting classes, and taught at the community college.
Meanwhile Anne started a ‘parents of twins club’ since they were parents of
twin boys.
 |
| Anne (far left) and Len (right) at their daughter's baptism |
His congregation, which would eventually be called Hope
Lutheran Church, first began meeting in a theater on a community college campus,
giving it some visibility early on. The theater also provided a novel setting
that made each Sunday interesting. “It had comfortable seating and good
acoustics,” Len said, “and you never knew what you’d see. There might be
scenery from Fiddler on the Roof in the
background.” Len said that his daughter, who was baptized in the theater,
coincidentally ended up getting married years later in a theater setting
because of inclement weather.
During those early years, Len was asked to become a
part-time chaplain for the state of Minnesota, specializing in chemical
dependency and addiction. Countless people and stories fill Len's memory from
that time. There was a man who was abusive, and threatening to harm Len and the
other counselors. Len was able to talk him down, and thus avert what could have
become an even more volatile situation. “Five years later,” Len said, “that man
called to tell me he was serving his time and making amends.” Another individual,
a woman Len had counseled, called him one day some years later to ask if he
would officiate at her wedding.
 |
| Len (far right) in front of Trinity Lutheran Church |
In 1988, Len’s career path took another turn. He received a
call to be a co-pastor at Trinity Lutheran Church in Great Bend, Kansas. Len
accepted the call and spent the next eight years in what he said was a
wonderful partnership with Pastor Gary Teske.
“Lenny was a good colleague, a good friend, and our families
were very close,” Gary said. “We split the preaching responsibilities right
down the middle, and in other areas of ministry we tried to play to each
other's strengths. I felt like we were each other's greatest fans,
minimizing competition and really pulling for each other to do well. Those
were some very enjoyable, rewarding and fruitful years of ministry.”
Len’s course changed again in 1997, when he received a call
from then Central States Synod Bishop Charlie Maahs to serve as Mission
Director for the synod, based in Overland Park, Kansas. Bishop Emeritus Maahs
said that Len was a perfect candidate for the job. “He would bring to the
position a variety of contexts and types of ministry with which he
had experience,” Maahs said. “For example, Len had experience in working with
youth, campus ministry, a chaplain in a treatment center, Global Mission
ministry (the Philippines), as a pastor in both large and small congregations,
and most important, a mission developer of a congregation.”
After a family discussion, it was decided that Len would
accept the call but his family would remain in Great Bend so that his sons
could finish high school. For the next year, Len stayed in the former White
Haven Motor Lodge on Metcalf Avenue and commuted to Great Bend as he could.
 |
| The Dale Family in the late 1980s |
Len’s job was to develop new congregations and serve as a
resource for the region which at that time included Kansas, Missouri, Nebraska,
Oklahoma and Arkansas. He loved the work but said he was never comfortable with
his title. “We don’t direct mission,” Len said. “Who directs mission? God does.
The idea of directing is from the corporate world. We are partners in God’s
mission.”
That will sound familiar to the people of Holy Cross
Lutheran Church, which is also Len’s home church. At Holy Cross, we are called
mission partners as opposed to members for that very reason.
“I never introduced myself as a director,” Len said. “Now,
the whole idea of mission is evolving in a very positive way, but there are
still congregations holding onto the ‘50s and ‘60s model. It’s a constant
struggle.”
Developing congregations was much more than a local endeavor
for Len. Some highlights during his tenure include traveling to Papua, New
Guinea as part of a companion synod team to teach stewardship for a couple of
months, and serving as an interim pastor for a congregation in the Philippines.
Len’s father was also a mission developer who served in such places as Korea
and the Philippines. A trip to Asia was another meaningful experience for Len. “I’m
thankful for the opportunity to travel with ELCA delegations in China to see
how we could be partners with the emerging church there,” Len said. What he
found amazed him.
“This was after the Cultural Revolution with its
oppression,” Len said. He described how, under the leadership of a female pastor,
people who made $3 a week came together to build a new church. What intrigued
him is the way the pastor would stand up to make announcements, and then single
out several people who would then be responsible for the readings and other
worship assistance that particular day. “This is awesome,” Len said he
remembers thinking, “there are no professionals here. She points to you, and
you get up and do the reading.”
That freedom from strict choreography of worship, the
ability to simply join in when asked, is something Len wishes he saw more of. “One
of the low points for me has been the division,” Len said. “Our theological
debates focused on important current issues often become so intense that we
lose sight of God’s grace. We are stuck in anxiety and uncertainty.”
Len’s comments aren’t a surprise, considering the gifts his
wife said he brought to the ministry. “Len’s greatest gifts of
ministry were,” Anne said, “acceptance of each person he met, the ability to see
the big picture, which gave him perspective, an innovative and forward-thinking
vision, and boundless energy.”
Retiring for Len was a natural transition. “I never thought
I’d be in this position that long,” Len said. “It’s been fascinating to work
with different bishops, leadership styles, expectations.”
Central States Synod Bishop Roger Gustafson said that Len
will be missed. “I came to greatly value Len’s deep knowledge of the synod –
its congregations and their various dynamics, its congregation members and its
pastors,” he said. “His observations and assessments were usually
spot-on. He also has a unique ability, born of 19 years’ experience on
synod staff, to perceive fruitful opportunities for new ministries. That
rich experience is what I will miss most; that, and the fact that Len is simply
a very likeable guy who packs a sense of humor that is refreshingly
disarming. I’m proud to call him friend.”
Bishop Emeritus Maahs said much the same. “I remember him as
a very positive, hopeful, and cheerful colleague with splendid teaching gifts,”
he said. “Len was a joy to work with, and his legacy in terms of mission and
ministry on behalf of God's people and the Church is something to celebrate.”
Presently, Len is just relaxing. But the end of September
will take him to Russia, where he will teach Congregation Vitality and
Leadership for six weeks. Pastor Bradn Buerkle, whose mission work in Russia is
supported by Holy Cross, is setting it up. “We asked what do you need,” Len
said, “and the response came back that we need help developing leaders.”
After that, Len doesn’t have any firm plans. Anne said, “I'd
love to see him remain healthy, spoil his three granddaughters, travel to see
family and friends, and pursue his varied hobbies: gourmet cooking, gardening and
yard work, volunteering in the community, especially at museums, art galleries,
plays, concerts, and sporting events.”
 |
| Len with sons Aaron and Ryan in 2004 |
Gourmet cooking is high on Len’s list of interests, and he
has taken many classes. “I make some Philippine dishes, Korean dishes, and I
love Italian,” Len said. “But I like to know what people like and that’s what I
want to cook.” Len is tossing around an idea that involves a food truck,
possibly an urban traveling grocery that he could take into areas that don’t
have grocery stores. He hasn’t really begun to explore yet just what all that
would entail. He said he also deals with chronic pain resulting from the
severed nerves from his car wreck and related back problems. But he doesn’t
focus on that. “Laughter, humor, exercise, and meditation are great antidotes,”
Len said.
