H. George Anderson

The Peculiar Case of the Reverend Knut Klinger

by H. GEORGE ANDERSON, President of Luther College 1982-96

Irecently received a file on the storied case of Reverend Knut Klinger and his candidacy for campus pastor. The file was sent to me by Robert Shoffner, who had led the search committee and was apparently cleaning out old files. Although the file is incomplete, it provides an outline of what transpired. The following is a summary. In late November 1982, the Reverend Robert Shoffner, assistant to the president of Luther College, received a letter from Woodrow Fossegrim, interim pastor of the Lutheran church in Blackduck, Minnesota. The letter, on church stationery, began, “The news has reached us here in Blackduck that Reverend Knut Klinger is being considered for the preacher’s job down at Luther College in Decorah. That is a blessing to hear. All of us are glad to see a chance like this open up for the guy.” Pastor Fossegrim went on to recount that, although Reverend Klinger could “really preach,” he had begun to act strangely. “People weren’t used to a preacher coming right down in the aisle, like he did, but we never slept through church any more.” Some of the changes were good. “He even got Earl Old Person to quit drinking for a while, and Earl gave his heart to the Lord four times there in 1980.” But the erratic behavior continued: “Last spring, right after he had come back from the district convention in Moorhead, he just seemed to be different. He used his May car allowance to build a meditation yurt behind the parsonage. . . After the Luther League convention in Texas he wore a goat-roper’s hat and spurs all the time, even at weddings & funerals. Now he’s just selling Avon and Shaklee, so he needs a job real bad.” Shoffner was surprised, because the campus pastor opening had not yet been formally announced. He assumed that the faculty network had spread the word. His suspicions were confirmed when, in early January, he received a memo headed “Re: Campus Pastor Search” from Professor Harley Refsal. “After reviewing all the suggested qualifications,” Refsal wrote, “I’m happy to identify the perfect candidate. Rev. Knut Klinger, a highly respected Lutheran who currently lives near Blackduck, Minnesota, is your man.” Refsal detailed many qualities of his candidate, including Klinger’s theology (“flexible”), his concern for social issues (“currently organizing a Save the Lemmings group”), and his active mind (“subscribes to Reader’s Digest, People, High Fidelity, Money, and Grit”). He listed Klinger’s interests as “sailing, Kierkegaard, French cooking, trapping, and restoring antique tractors.” He concluded, “If you want more information on this candidate, I would be happy to supply it. Frankly, I think your worries are over.” Ten days later, a letter and a completed application form came from Klinger

IMAGES COURTESY OF THE AUTHOR H. George Anderson

himself. He had moved his yurt to an abandoned cemetery in Bowstring, Minnesota and described his current job as “self-employed evangelist.” He felt that he was a “spiritual goldmine,” and he wanted to “get someplace where they have a pipe organ and a mimeograph machine in working condition.” The application form also required several character references. Two came in during the following weeks. One was from Mrs. Klinger, who was principally concerned with housing at Luther. “I was hoping you would have something lined up fairly soon,” she wrote. “I’m quite fussy when it comes to housekeeping and will need a little time picking out draperies.” The other, typed on personalized stationery, was from Charleen Sumstad, president of the Cottonwood County Gideons in Westbrook, Minnesota. Ms. Sumstad cited Reverend Klinger’s influence on her and the three other members of Blackduck Lutheran’s Senior High Luther League, noting that all of them had gone into “work for the Lord.” There is a gap in the documentation of Klinger’s candidacy at this point, but faculty and staff members who were on the search committee remember that, despite Klinger’s remote location and rudimentary typing skills, they were able to depend on Professor Refsal’s efforts as a go-between. He forwarded their inquiries, delivered Klinger’s answers, and reported Klinger’s ever-shifting locations, economic woes, and minor achievements. He became, in a sense, Klinger’s alter ego. The search committee decided to invite Klinger for a personal interview. No printed record exists of the interview, which took place in the Nobel Room, but evidently the committee was worried about Klinger’s preaching skills.1 Correspondence

between committee chairman Shoffner and Klinger indicates that a preaching appointment was arranged at Clayton Center, but something involving a dead opossum came up and the next letter, dated April 25, 1983, ended his candidacy. I quote the letter in its entirety: Dear Pastor Klinger, Thank you for your moderately well-typed application for the position of campus pastor at Luther College. Naturally, a large number of criteria were considered as we tried to evaluate the qualifications of each candidate. While you rated highly in respect to experience and availability—you were at the very top in the latter category—the committee felt that other candidates had stronger overall appeal. The Committee suggests that you consider improving your typing skills and learning the alphabet by memory. This would prepare you Reverend Knut Klinger's application for campus pastor, detailing for a job in administration. Furhis unusual career. thermore, since it appears that you have learned English as an adult, you might consider working with persons who are new to American society. Another alternative would be something in arts and crafts. Reference letter for Reverend Knut Klinger from Charlene Sumstad on her personalized stationery, reprinted in full.

Postcard (above) and photo (below right) from Reverend Knut Klinger, Rector of Julebakken Folkehøgskole, sent to Luther College from Norway, 1991.

I hope these few remarks will be helpful to you as you consider other opportunities suitable to your numerous gifts and varied background. Yours sincerely, President H. George Anderson reads, “Rector Knut Klinger, Julebukken Folkehøgskole, with his faculty.” I believe it refers to the other item on the page, a picture of Harley Refsal with several of his carvings. Editor’s note: Agora has received further information about the interview from professor emeritus Loyal Rue, a member of the search committee. At a tribute for a retiring faculty member a few years back, Rue recalled that “Klinger showed up all decked out in a Norwegian sweater and a seedcorn cap and a Dolly Parton necktie. Jim Eckblad, an evolutionary biologist extraordinaire, was sitting there armed with a very sticky theological question with which he was going to use to ambush poor old Klinger: ‘Did Adam,’ Eckblad wanted to know, ‘have a belly button?’ Klinger didn’t miss a heartbeat. He came right back and said, ‘Oh I don’t think that’s the question, whether he had a belly button. Of course he had a belly button. The more interesting question is whether it was an innie or an outie.’ Then he went on to explain that God had created Adam with a great flourish and when the job was all finished he gave him a poke in the belly like the Pillsbury doughboy and that’s how we know that Adam had an innie.” Rue’s remarks may be heard by copying and pasting this address into your web browser: https://www.dropbox.com/s/3cpco3xetl06la3/01%20Harley%20Refsal%27s%20Retirement%20 Tribute%20copy.mp3?dl=0

Klinger took the rejection in stride. Two remaining items in the file demonstrate his continued optimism. The first is a letter from April, 1991, once again applying for the campus pastor position, which had recently become vacant. He grumbled, “Boy, you folks sure go through campus pastors. It can’t be more than 8 years ago since you hired the last one.” He offered to “do the best job I can, and I’d stick around till retirement age.” The final item is a photocopy of a postcard and picture. The postcard, undated and signed by Klinger, was sent to Robert Shoffner from Norway. Writing in Norwegian, Klinger reported that he was now the president of a university in Norway. “I’m writing to tell you that I have no hard feelings toward you and Luther College. To emphasize that, I’m pleased to offer you a job as my assistant.” Also on the card is a label that