Maynard Iverson, Lutheran orator, shepherd

The Rev. Maynard Iverson was a silver-tongued preacher who led Bethlehem Lutheran Church in south Minneapolis for 32 years.

He was a smiling shepherd who guided his congregation through some tough decisions and also served as board president of the Greater Minneapolis Council of Churches. Iverson, 90, died from heart failure on June 2 in Sun City West, Ariz., where he had retired. He was senior pastor from 1951 to 1983.

When church leader Richard Dronen told the retired Iverson that the church wanted to name its fellowship hall after him, Dronen said Iverson joked about an alternative space: "Can't we find a corner closet somewhere?"

Church organist and music director Maria Bucka worked with Iverson in his last seven years in the pulpit.

"He was an icon, bigger than life in some ways. He was like two people," she said. "He had an incredible strong voice that commanded attention and respect. The other part of him was gentle." When she joined the staff in 1977, Bethlehem had about 3,000 members. Bucka asked for an appointment to meet Iverson.

"They said just go knock on his door and if he's there he'll talk to you. He was very accessible, and a very gentle, caring man. A true pastor's pastor. You felt shepherded by him."

Iverson, who won the Minnesota college oratorical contest as a St. Olaf student, said he frequently injected illustrative stories into his sermons to reclaim wandering minds, Bucka said. When he preached, "you knew it was important, that he really was speaking the word of God. ... He could read a telephone directory and you'd be totally rapt."

That thought impelled his father to keep his sermons to about 12 minutes. He also sought a more polished organist after the church installed a new 55-pipe organ, Iverson said. The change caused some hard feelings among those who liked the former organist, who was a wonderful woman, Iverson said. "There were times he had to make tough decisions. I guess he prayed and found guidance."

"He was a tremendous listener," said Dronen, a former congregational president. "He had a way of bringing opposing sides together, so feelings were soothed over."

Iverson was like a second father to son-in-law Jim Bratly, whose father died when Bratly was in college.

"He looked for the best in people," Bratly said. "He lived his life as an example of someone who really believed in the gospel he was sharing with others."