During the week of Feb. 24-28, 2025, seven planets in our solar system aligned in what has been called a planet parade, or planetary alignment, something seen approximately every 80 years. It gathered much attention worldwide, first because of its relative rarity, and second, because its brightness and sparkle could be seen with the naked eye.
On February 25, 2025, the sparkle and brilliance of another star, this one named Dr. Martin E. Marty, went dim with his death at age 97 from what his family lovingly called “old age.” But, they added, his wit, sparkle and kindness was with him until the end.
This reminded me of the proximity of Mark Twain’s birth and death (Nov. 30, 1835–April 21, 1910) with the rare passage of Halley’s comet which flew past Earth the year he was born and again shortly before he died: two brilliant and gifted men whose life passages marked by rare, celestial events.
Marty would have chuckled at the comparison, I think. This humble, self-effacing son of a German Lutheran schoolteacher and his wife didn’t take himself too seriously. I was privileged to get to know him in the early 1980s when, as a reporter for the West Point News in West Point, Neb., I was assigned to cover his speech at Dana College, a Lutheran college in Blair, Neb. The “hook” for the interview was that Marty was a native of West Point who lived his early years in West Point when his father was principal of St. Paul’s Evangelical Lutheran School.
From that first interview, Marty became a dear friend. Always interested in what was going on in West Point and the area, he said it was his “locus standi,” or place from which to stand and view the world. It was his frame of reference, and this man, one of the most accomplished and honored Lutheran theologians and historians in the world, still based the way he saw things in the small community where he was baptized and spent his first few years.
He was a loyal subscriber to the West Point News, saying he looked forward to receiving and reading it every week. He remembered classmates’ names and families. When he was back for a visit one summer, he accompanied me to my home congregation, St. John’s Lutheran Church—Cuming County Line of Scribner. Following lunch there, he asked if we could stop at a former classmate’s home in the country so he could say hello. We did and he did, to the delight of the classmate and his wife.
Marty (who preferred to be called that instead of ‘Dr. Marty’), was a wise and caring friend who shared advice when asked and wisdom when he spoke. I loved receiving his e-mail messages with their traditional closing word, ‘Benisons,’ or blessings. When I once asked him how I would know if I was called to go into the ministry, his reply was, “I haven’t seen too many ‘Road to Damascus’ calls,” referring to St. Paul’s conversion. “More often, I think, God sends us nudges, or signs that we need to pay attention to,” he said.
When I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2005 and was afraid that it would end my journey to become an ELCA pastor, I asked Marty to tell me if maybe I should give it up. His reply? “I don’t think God would keep you out of the ministry because you have some physical limitations. Everyone has handicaps; some are just more visible than others.” He then introduced me to an ELCA pastor at the conference we were attending who had MS and was flourishing in her ministry.
I became a Lutheran pastor in 2009 and, on Aug. 30 of that year, Dr. Martin E. Marty was the preacher at my ordination worship service at Redeemer Lutheran Church in Hooper, Neb. Talk about being blessed! Of the many things for which I give thanks to God, Martin E. Marty is near the top of the list. I believe God put him in my life for a reason, and I am forever grateful.
Benisons, Marty, and may the angels of God accompany you into God’s presence. Well done, good and faithful servant!
Rev. Judith K. Johnson
Pastor of Elim Lutheran and St. Paul’s Lutheran Churches, Hooper, Nebraska