Jeremy L. Berg

Kevin Krotzer passed onto glory on Pentecost Sunday, May 28, around 6pm after a battle with cancer. I wonder if there’s extra festivities going on in Heaven on Pentecost Sunday celebrating the birth of the Church and outpouring of the Spirit. I envision Kevin walking right into Heaven’s block party, giddy from the “ride” over, digging into the appetizers and curious to see who’s providing the heavenly live music. Then again, I suspect Kevin might prefer to have his first moments in heaven be quietly sitting in peace and enjoying pure calm and relaxation free from struggle–inside and out; maybe finally plucking on the strings of a guitar he dreamed about learning to play.

Kevin was a special part of the MainStreet family, and he was the dearly beloved of God. Let me share some of my favorite memories of Kevin. I first got to know Kevin as the gentle hospitality staff and locker room attendant greeting me at the door of the Lafayette Club. We made small talk at first, swapping stories of growing up in Mound and graduating from MWHS. I still chuckle thinking about Kevin’s long hair down he wore down to his shoulders back in high school. (Someone please find a yearbook photo!)

I told Kevin about our new church in Mound and he soon began attending on Sundays. This was around 2013 or 2014, and he was going through some transitions. The biggest was coping with the death of his parents and getting settled in his new place. Kevin welcomed us into these challenges and we welcomed him into our hearts and church family.

I began dropping off little Bible study books for Kevin to read (he was into William Barclay’s series for a while), and I would ask him how his reading was going each time I visited the club. Those were great chats and happy memories. Kevin became more involved in our church over the coming years and I had the special privilege of renewing Kevin’s baptism at Surfside Beach in the waters of Lake Minnetonka around 2015. Here’s what Kevin shared with the church when renewing his baptism:

The past few years have been filled with difficult transitions grieving the death of my parents, finding a new place to live, and some job stress. But I’m trying to trust God with my future. I recently came forward to renew my baptism at the beachside service at Surfside. That was a special moment for me, almost one year from when I began attending MainStreet. God has brought me a long way this past year and so it seemed fitting to come forward to the waters when I heard the invitation.”

KEVIN

MainStreet has never prioritized polished programs and organizational growth; we’ve been more about nurturing spaces of amazing grace and becoming an extended family for fellow misfits and ragamuffins trying to get real about our brokenness and serious about walking in newness of life in the power of the Spirit. We are especially fond of folding into our community people who need a little extra family around them. You show up to church one Sunday, and months later you realize you’ve been given the title of “Uncle.” Middle-aged unmarrieds should especially beware! You might get a free mug or magnet when visiting many churches; you get a new family for visiting MainStreet too many times!

That’s right; our kids know him as “Uncle Kevin.” Our kids have two MainStreet uncles – Kevin and Karl. Kevin stayed over night at our house once or twice when recovering from surgeries. Each time we made a big deal out of Uncle Kevin staying the night, and always got his favorite take-out for dinner. “Oh, can we get Asian again please?” he would say. One time while staying over, we got to see a silly, playful side of Kevin that not everyone got to see that often. I treasure these photos of Kevin relishing his “uncle” role on the floor doing puzzles with the boys and even playing dress up with Abby!

I once took Kevin to see a movie at the theater together, as he said it had been many years since he’d been to a theater. As we sat down in our seats with our popcorn, he commented on the big comfy reclining chairs. I asked, “Kevin, when was the last time you were in the theater?” I’m pretty sure he said, “When Titanic first came out.” That’s nearly 30 years ago, ya’ll! :)

Let me put on my pastor hat for a moment and share some things that set Kevin apart. He was a joy to pastor for several reasons. First, Kevin had a humble, teachable spirit about him. He wanted to be led deeper in his faith. He welcomed guidance, he asked for advice, he admitted weaknesses and trusted the wisdom of pastors and mentors. He was soft and moldable clay in God’s hands. Pastors wouldn’t be quitting the ministry at such high rates if churches were full of Kevins. He was easy to love and a joy to pastor.

Second, Kevin found the courage to be honest about deeper struggles that many would have tried to keep hidden. Kevin invited us into his struggle with alcohol and let us walk with him through recovery steps. Kevin was up and down in this struggle, and never perfect, but perfectly humble and open to seeking and receiving help. This is one struggle he has been set free from at last. (Kevin worked nearly two decades at the Lafayette Club, and I know fellow staff there also loved Kevin deeply and walked with him patiently over the years, for which I am grateful.)

Third, Kevin modeled a sweet and resilient childlike faith in Jesus. Kevin was not a sophisticated and well-read Christian, but he would run laps around most of us with the amount of deep peace and tranquility of spirit he exhibited in his final years battling cancer. He was dealing with a lot of physical setbacks and suffering toward the end, and yet he had a kind of calmness of spirit in the midst of it all. His faith was fed in some uncharacteristic ways as well: a painting he’d found at a thrift store, a song he had discovered and wanted to share with me, and or just sitting quietly meditating in the afternoon sun.

I want to thank my associate, Pastor Mike Fox, who has been a dear friend to Kevin, meeting with him about every week for the past year or more to read Scripture together and talk about Christ, life and death, and our eternal hope. Last week’s report from Mike after Kevin was moving into hospice care was, “He is physically comfortable, in good spirits, reading his Bible everyday, and still dreaming of getting outside more.”

Kevin was not afraid to die. He had faith in Jesus. He was ready to be relieved of his sufferings. He really believed that “Though outwardly [he was] wasting away, yet inwardly [he was] being renewed day by day.” He believed and lived into the following hope:

“For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Cor 4:16).

Kevin was better than many at fixing his eyes on the unseen. He is now seeing the unseen in dazzling 3D hypercolor, and experiencing the eternal joys of God’s presence. Uncle Kevin will be missed and not forgotten at MainStreet Covenant Church, and in the Berg household.

Let me conclude on a fun note. This winter Kevin joined us for our last supper (probably Asian!) together at our home. After dinner, I asked Kevin to play some billiards with me on our new table. He warned me that he hadn’t played for many years — probably longer than hi last theater outing — and wouldn’t be any good. After letting me get way ahead and padding my ego a bit, the kind and humble and soft-spoken Kevin ran the table on me! He then said with a big grin, “Well, I used to play suckers for money back in the day.” I’m so glad I got to be Kevin’s sucker this time, and I have a photo of that grin to mark the moment and cherished memory.

We love you Kevin. See you later.