The Anchor

When I was in high school, I was very active in my church youth group, called Walther League, at Grace Lutheran Church.  It wasn't uncommon for forty kids to turn out for Sunday evening activities.  We played games, sang songs to guitar accompaniment, had devotions--the usual youth group fare.  We enjoyed hikes and cookouts and hay rack rides.  We planned and executed contemporary Saturday evening worship services, which were held in the church basement, rather than the sanctuary.  We put together and performed skits based on Bible stories, and traveled together to Lutheran youth conferences as far away as Denver and Kansas City.  Overall, our youth group was viable and worthwhile, and our leaders were committed to helping us grow in our faith.

When I was about sixteen, we started to hear rumors that a Christian coffeehouse was opening in downtown Fairbury.  We were interested, of course, so we discussed it with our youth leaders.  They were extremely cautious, urging us to stay away from anything so ecumenical as an interdenominational coffee house.  (It probably didn't help that the expenses for the new coffee house were being paid for by a couple of charismatic businessmen who tried to remain anonymous.)

Several non-Lutheran friends encouraged me to come to the coffee house, so I decided to visit and see what it was all about.  I was welcomed with open arms.  I started attending regularly.  Eventually, my brother, Dan, was coming, too.

The Anchor was located on the west side of the courthouse square, only a couple of blocks from the hotel where I lived.  It was open on Friday and Saturday evenings during the school year, and on weeknights during the summer.  I usually walked, guitar case in hand, since it was so close to home.  However, I learned early to skirt the courthouse to avoid having the jail inmates call out to me.  As I look back, I'm surprised that my parents allowed me to walk even that short distance late at night, even though Fairbury was a safe community.  Times were different then.

The Anchor was the first place where I felt accepted and loved unconditionally by God and the other people there.  But the real draw was the opportunity for extended prayer and praise.  Sure, we goofed around a lot, as teens and young adults often do.  We had a lot of fun!  But we also studied the Bible together, prayed together, and sang songs of praise to God nearly every time we met.  It wasn't uncommon to have four or five guitarists leading our impromptu worship.  My guitar playing ability improved immensely.  My faith grew by leaps and bounds.

I made good friends who weren't Lutheran.  We discussed denominational differences.  We attended each others' churches.  We were asked to lead worship at a variety of churches in the area.  We attended Christian gatherings together, in Lincoln and other towns.  We all grew in our faith, and in our tolerance for people from all kinds of backgrounds. 

I doubt if I ever would have met Bill if I hadn't gone to the Anchor.  No, I didn't meet him there.  But, I met my friend, Paul, there, and Paul introduced Bill and me, inviting each of us to play guitar and help lead worship for a Methodist Lay Witness Mission in Lincoln, one frigid January weekend when I was a freshman at Concordia College in Seward.  (Thanks, Paul!)

The Anchor remained a controversial place.  Some kids' parents just wouldn't let them attend the Anchor, for fear that their beliefs would be corrupted.  I am thankful that Mom and Dad let Dan, and me, participate in such a faith-stretching endeavor.  Until we went off to college, Dan and I both remained active in our own church, but God used the Anchor as one more stepping stone toward our life-long service to Him. To Him be all praise!