Burt Lange – the Day He Drove the Combine

Burt Lange.jpg

Burt Lange (right) with new UB missionaries Jamie Fiedler (left) and Anna Geivett (center).

This past weekend, the Day of Missions that Pam and I attended was held in Chambersburg, Pa., which is the most densely UB-populated place on earth. Six UB churches have Chambersburg addresses, nearby Greencastle has four churches, Shippensburg has three, and I’m sure gobs of surrounding towns yield additional UB churches. People talk about Huntington, Ind., as being the UB “Mecca.” Well, my vote goes to Chambersburg.

The event was held at the Salem UB church, which I’d never before visited. It’s a stately brick building; “stately brick” seems to be a common architectural motif of UB churches in that area.

I spent a lot of time in Chambersburg when I was a kid. We lived in Harrisburg for 3.5 years ,which corresponds to my grades 4-7. The conference campground, Rhodes Grove, is located just outside of Chambersburg. Dad directed junior camp for two summers, and he ran the food service for one entire summer (which means we stayed on the grounds most of the time).

On Saturday, Burt Lange and former missionary Aldean Saufley played an outstanding prelude–Burt on the piano, Aldean on the organ. Burt is an incredible, incredible pianist. He hooked up with Tony Fontaine during the 1960s when Tony did annual revival services at my church (Devonshire UB in Harrisburg), and Tony began using Burt in other meetings. They even performed together in the White House. Every summer at camp, Burt entertained the crowd with his piano-comedy bit. He’d have us all in stitches. Burt still possesses that amazing sense of humor.

But I remember Burt Lange for another reason, as well. He was the evangelist for junior camp in 1967. Under his preaching, I went forward and dedicated my life to Christ. I walked to the altar with my head bowed and knelt at the altar across from a counselor whose face I didn’t see. After a few seconds, I heard the counselor weeping, which seemed strange. I looked up…and it was my Dad, a last-minute counselor that year. Dad’s first words were, “Steve, do you know what you’re doing?” I said I did, or at least thought so. Dad talked to me, and I responded, though I can’t remember a bit of that. But in the end, he led me in a prayer of salvation. So that was pretty special.

A couple years ago, I ran into Burt Lange at an event in Chambersburg and mentioned this to him. He said, “I can’t take much credit for that. With your background, somebody would have got you.” And he’s right. I grew up in a strong Christian home, and it was only a matter of time. Burt just happened to be working the harvest fields that particular day. It could have been somebody else, but it was him. But that doesn’t diminish the place Burt has in my heart.

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