Rev. Dr. John H. Siefken

If you have been blessed, you must go forth and be a blessing. On December 30th of this year my dad, the Rev. Dr. John Siefken, known also as dad, grandpa, John, Johnny, Reverend and Pastor John, passed from this world. He was surrounded by his family, and his pastor, and I believe he smiled when we all sang "Jesus Loves Me." His heart had fought valiantly for 2 months, for it was a good heart, though perhaps not the strongest heart. But the heart belonged to a person who loved people, gardens, football, McDonald's fries, chatting, coffee, hot cocoas and who had the biggest laugh of anyone you ever knew. So that heart just kept working, just kept giving more, until it couldn't, and somewhere in the quiet of a year that was ending, we said he could let go, that we loved him and that we would be ok, and he believed us, and so he moved on to be with his beloved momma, his strong-hearted dad, and his precious sister Joan, who died just 2 days earlier. He went to be with Jesus, who he loved with a courage and grace that made it impossible not to believe there was so much more to life than what you can hold in your hand. John Siefken was a junior, born to John Siefken and Florence Ekblad. He was the brother of Joan and Jean Siefken. They played together, made plays together, ate pies together, and grew in faith together. My grandpa walked to church each day by himself as a boy, and Florence's mom was an organist for the local church. His dad was Mayor of the city, a speech writer for John Deere and an inventor/business owner. John called him "my best friend." His beloved mother would be the first female President of the School Board, something her youngest child was immensely proud of. Florence also graduated with a major in math from Augustana College, and John was fond of pulling out her report cards and showing everyone how remarkable his momma was. His sisters were brilliant, kind and strongly involved with community service. It is hard to talk about John without talking about the family he so deeply adored. John Jr. attended Sunday School, and a church camp where, on Team Philemon, he led his fellow campers to the gold trophy in all-around sporting events. Growing up he learned to play tennis with his sister Joan on the courts of Butterworth Park, where his sister also ran the local games club. He would go on to play #1 at his beloved John Deere High School, where he was also a captain of his football team. A gentle soul, he wasn't much for tackling, but tennis would stay with my dad all his life, winning various adult leagues and playing through college. Joan and John's love of tennis would carry on to their grandchildren, where their patient instruction and encouragement transformed to love of the game. My dad was raised in a strong tradition of love and faith, of community service and laughter, on seven magical acres, where he spent his days sliding town clay hills and running with his sisters from Freddie the Goose. My dad went on to win the National Championship in debate at his beloved Augustana College, where he has since established a scholarship fund. Debate was a great passion of his, and he would continue it as coach of Augustana College, and even going across the pond to debate against Cambridge. Called to ministry, John moved to Detroit in the 1960s and mentored under Conrad Trued at Immanuel Lutheran. My dad was in charge of youth outreach, helped run the youth bible program, was chaplain for the Mother's Club at the Parkside Housing Project, and started a tutoring program at Northeastern High School. He was honored to receive the Volunteer of the Month Award for Detroit. He started Head Start programs, being a strong advocate of early childhood education and its accessibility for all children. I think today of all the children who received affordable, quality early childhood education, and I think of the legacy of compassion and the incredible work put forth in the optimism of 60s-70s era young people. John stayed in Michigan, married his wife of 49 years, Mary Lou Siefken, and raised his children Todd and Heather with a kindness and grace that would have made his mom proud. He stayed home with his children during the days, working from a home office, and watched his young son run wild around the backyard, taking him in the afternoons to play tennis at the Clawson courts. He made open faced peanut butter sandwiches for me, walked me daily to the library and post-office, and often joined me for my 1:00 viewing of Sesame Street. Mary Lou was his partner in all things. A talented pianist, dad was always so thankful and inspired by her talents. She played the organ and piano and started the Junior Choir. Dad loved her so deeply, and where you know it's the little things, she told me she will forever miss the way he always made sure her Starbucks card was full, and she had a new coat. They loved each other with the simple grace, characteristic of the life they lived. A pastor of 37 years at Prince of Glory Lutheran Church in Madison Heights, John, with the help of so many wonderful friends, installed the HVAC system, put on a new roof, built an accredited preschool program, and became a pioneer in adult education. Prince of Glory was a labor of love. Love of Christ, love of good works, and love of humanity. My fondest memories were monthly workdays, where dad and so many like-minded friends would wax the floors, fix the driveway and end it all with a hearty pizza. He loved everyone and would have told us that he was blessed by the wealth of talent and graciousness in Christ's congregation, and it truly was a special place to grow up. It was a church filled with song (dad was tone deaf and his patient friends still encouraged him to sing), laughter, and the love of Christ. And being Lutheran, it was also filled with casseroles, coffee, Jell-O salads, and excellent brownie deserts. In his later year he found himself burying the friends he found at POG, and beyond. His heart was heavy with these losses, but he always returned to the altar for them. He had been blessed by their graces, and his voice, always strong and true, echoed with thanks and the love he knew from Christ. In his retirement, he continued his work in church outreach, and was a passionate advocate of charitable giving. He loved being in his woodworking room. Anyone could ask, and dad would make them something. So many friends can point to a piece of furniture John made for them. For his grandchildren he built armoires, desks, bedside tables, and everything else he thought they needed. And in the spring and summer he was in his garden, a beautiful space teeming with roses, and wildflowers he excitedly found, bleeding hearts and moon flowers. The garden was a space where all things were offered a helping hand and allowed to thrive. Quietly, each morning, he would garden, and his bunny would sit beside him. The bunny was a passionate advocate of eating John's flowers, and John was fine with letting him eat. So John grew things, the bunny ate things, and the garden grew to be a beautiful, gracious place that he was so proud of, and we all loved. If you needed a friend, or someone who wouldn't judge you, he was there. If you needed a hug and a cup of coffee, he was there. If you thought your dog was awful because it ate a pound of turkey meatballs, he would tell you it's really a good dog. And when your beloved dog died, he would tell you there was a place in heaven for it too, and he would tell you this right away, because he would leave right away to get to you. To hug you and buy you a pizza. John is survived by his dear wife Mary Lou, his son Todd, his wife Jen and their son Liam, his daughter Heather, her husband Justin and their three children Brody, Rory and Sophia. He was a kind, devoted and loving spouse, a father blessed with infinite patience and empathy, who continued to encourage and support his children up to his last moments on earth. He knew the location of every ice cream store in Clawson, MI, and loved to walk with his kids to get milk and an orange popsicle. He was a grandfather who took so much joy in every moment spent with his grandchildren. He loved to watch their tennis tournaments and hockey games. He ran up and down their lawns on knees he had long since replaced, and that still caused him pain, chasing after baseballs a child had probably lobbed ten feet from his glove, encouragingly shouting "Good pass. Good pass." He watched princess movies and made lovies talk. He loved to put sticks in the fence. If a chocolate bar was dropped on the floor, a new one was bought. And perhaps another and another. If a grandchild was sad, there was an ear to listen, and a heart to care. And always their feelings were important, their opinions respected. Just like how you never know it will be the last sugar cookie you eat from your grandma, or the last time your dad tells you that same story once more, that story about Freddie the Goose that he has told you a thousand times, I encourage you to sit for the story, because just as my dad was so precious, he always reminded me how precious we all are, and how precious a gift life is. And please forgive my editing. My dad always edited for me. There will be a memorial gathering Saturday, January 7, 2023 from 9:00 a.m. until the time of the memorial service at 10:30 a.m. at Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church, 5631 N. Adams Road, Bloomfield Hills, MI 48304.

Rev. Dr. John H. Siefken

May 21, 1939 - December 30, 2022