Eastertide Reflections 2015
Dear Family and Friends,
I’m writing this on Maundy Thursday. Nancy and I took in a UNK baseball game with friends from Grand Island (George and Jackie Ayoub, whose son Max is UNK’s catcher, joined by Al and Jean Satterly, Tom MacAloon, and Fr. Jim Schmitt). We’ll close our day by keeping our appointed hour at the Vigil at St. Luke’s, but the gathering at the ball park over chips and popcorn and the dinner together after will be pretty much as fitting an observance of the day as could be found.
Conversations:
Me. Sorry about the loss, Max (UNK 6, Emporia 10)
Max. It’s all right. That’s been our spring pattern…lose the first game, win the next two.
[Sounds like the pattern of crucifixion, death, resurrection to me]
Me. The strike zone seemed to keep changing…maybe the official was cold.
Max. Yeah, and the Emporia pitcher took good advantage of it…lots of change ups…I had just figured the pattern and then it changed again. But now we’ve seen what they’ve got, we all know how to deal with it in tomorrow’s double-header.
[Ditto the above]
Me to one of the others. How you doing, now?
One of the guests. I have had to give up traveling alone, but giving up things is all part of life.
[Another lesson of Lent/Easter]
Me to another friend. How you doing, now?
Another of the guests. I had to quit my job…the people who depended on me need someone more dependable than my health lets me be. I’ll miss it, but I had to think of them.
[No need to wonder if there is a sermon in there]
This all seems a part of my continuing theme in these reflections: The great celebrations/commemorations of any religion do not tell us something new or foreign…they teach us how basic to life are its sacred moments and they teach us how to recognize the sacred when it is present in common, ordinary ways.
Some such notion was behind the last major revision of our (Episcopalian) prayer book, but the notion was too new then to take us very far. At least, as it turned out, it didn’t take us far enough. The round of services for Holy Week appointed in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer (for you traditionalists, that’s the BCP you still call “the new prayer book”!) has proved something of a mixed blessing. I had the privilege of instituting the Great Vigil at St. Luke’s, but that service seemed to have run its useful course there…as it has many other places as well. Similarly, we began doing the “foot-washing” to celebrate Maundy Thursday, which in many places devolved into being a “hand-washing” (well-intended update I’m sure, but an awful symbolism after the Pontius Pilate story). Hand-washing turned into hand-wringing over what to do. Lots of places have returned to some sort of MT/Passover/Seder/Agape meal or the traditional “Stripping of the Altar.” And, in some, the foot-washing has become an annual blessing.
In one way that prayer book was new at just the wrong time—still caught in an old world enough to be fought tooth and nail by some, not yet well enough into the world of today to anticipate the changes in our life styles and how those would affect church membership and worship patterns and availability of all sorts of acolytes, altar guild, and choir members, readers, etc. Times change and so must liturgies; as the people change so must the “people’s work.”
Here’s the conundrum: sometimes a “tradition” only stays alive by being stubbornly insisted on through less supportive times and sometimes it only stays alive by being open to adapting to new circumstances. Put another way, what is “common” prayer if there is not something that remains“common”? Yet at the same time—what of the wisdom of the first American Book of Common Prayer? Its preface wisely began:
It is a most valuable part of that blessed “liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free,” that in his worship different forms and usages may without offence be allowed, provided the substance of the Faith be kept entire; and that in every Church, what cannot be clearly determined to belong to Doctrine must be referred to Discipline; and therefore, by common consent and authority, may be altered, abridged, enlarged, amended, or otherwise disposed of, as may seem most convenient for the edification of the people, “according to the various exigency of times and occasions.”
I love that philosophy, but it does beg the question of whether, these days, we can trust all those majoring in the minors to know what the substance of the Faith amounts to and what innovations are not geared to any exigencies at all but to the perennial problem of “itching ears.”
Jesus was pretty big on “yes”! He “yessed” a lot of things discouraged or hoodwinked people had never thought could be. He was also big on “no”! Lent begins with his most famous “no’s”. For all the fame Nancy Reagan gave it, just saying “no” did not get nearly enough traction in our greed-ridden, instant-gratification based society. For all the spin Norman Vincent Peale could put on it, “positive thinking” is a pale imitation of the affirming and inclusive “yes” of Jesus. What Jesus was not big on was the all-too-human realm in between yes and no. Matthew 5:37 is pretty direct on this.
But, you still have to have some sense of what to say yes to and what to say no to, and if your only guide to that is some shopworn shibboleth from the supposedly golden age of the 1950s or some vague spiritual sentiment of the 1990’s that makes no demands on you but just makes you feel good—well, maybe a little less arrogant ‘no,’ a little less ambitious ‘yes’ might prove at least temporarily helpful. There’s nothing in Jesus’s words to make one think his words were “one-size-fits-all” formulas given so we’d never have to use our heads or listen to our hearts, and work out our “yes” and “no” in fear and trembling. We may be years away from seeing where the battle between too great a variety and too fixed a rigidity will take us.
It seems to me a point worth considering this Eastertide/Spring, but if it is not for you, then at least enjoy the personal news that follows, the poem, or simply the wish for your happiness and sanity that accompanies all our greetings!
Here’s our family news
The cranes have returned, later than usual, but always in time to recall the miracles of the place we live. Folks here often extol the abundance of pure water, the clean air, the low unemployment rate, the good earth, and “the best farmers in the world.” The cranes remind us not to take any of that for granted and not to imperil it for petty profits for the few.
As they have been arriving, our youngest grandson Huck has had his first surgery—tubes in his ears, a short procedure with quite enough angst involved for two parents and four grandparents. Greta and Will have had guests for the Palm Sunday weekend (Cambria, her kids) Easter Egg hunt)—a great photo shows Willie attempting to get some control over the mob and Greta with sheer enjoyment on her face. Laura has begun taking classes in library and archive science, George continues to teach a class at Carthage, and another fine photo shows the whole family celebrating his admission to the Illinois bar. Oh, don’t make too much of that…all Wisconsin attorneys have to do to practice in Illinois is pass an ethics exam! No, you read that rightly. Remember, the world is a place where irony abounds! We were so glad they could come down for a few days after Christmas and for all who came to see them while they were with us.
Noelle is now the official director of our church camp, newly titled Camp Canterbury. She is also co-chair of the Rector search at St. Augustine’s, Elkhorn, where the Ptomey’s worship, as well as being a Deputy to General Convention—the third generation of our family to so serve. Harlan is dealing with just the right kinds of problems: over-crowding due to the high demand for new programs at his school, growing pains from much needed changes. Rowan survived a ditch roll in his now defunct car (truly an “out if the deep have I called” experience) and has been working some days for a local farmer and some nights for a Fremont restaurant and both employers have admired his work ethic. It was obvious again when after just a few weeks of welding class he placed in a competition with kids who had been taking welding for some time. We got to watch both Rowan and Brody play ball this year, and we enjoy hearing Rowan’s plans for his future (he graduates next year) and his interests in history, as well as Brody’s thoughts about a career in sports management and his interests in science and art.
Chuck continues to speak occasionally on the Twelve Steps at the Tuesday Night Workshop in Grand Island, enjoys and speaks occasionally at Kearney’s Torch Club, keeps up his part in the performances Kate Benzel and Mike Adams design of Carl Sandburg’s poems and songs (April 10, World Theatre, Kearney!), and shared some of his personal story at the last clergy retreat, where he had the great pleasure to be part of an evening program with long-time friends Mary Jane Gockley and Bob Bee. (Kathryn Young of Sewanee was a wonderful and challenging retreat leader.)
We’ll be in Alliance and Hyannis shortly after Easter to take services for Coke McClure at St. Matthew’s and Calvary and present a pre-Chautauqua program on Cather, Twain and “Free Land.” Chuck is reading up for a review of Stew Magnuson’s The Last American Highway, preparing for preaching at the Eucharist at the Cather Spring Conference, and getting ready to chair a panel on Cather and Religion at the Cather International Seminar in Lincoln. We’ll leave the seminar a day early to be in McCook for the Buffalo Commons Storytelling Festival where Chuck is emcee and scheduled to do a poetry reading and a storytelling session about the legendary Harry Strunk. Sometime in all this we are hoping to get back to D.C. to say “hasta la vista” to Pierce, Bryce, and Brooks Coffee before Pierce takes up her new job in Australia.
The summer will bring the usual trip to Oxford, Mississippi, for the Faulkner conference, hoping to see Clark and Marty on the way down. Then, we’ll make an extended stop in Kansas City on the way home where we will be joined by all our children and grandchildren for a few days of celebration of our 50th Anniversary. All that before the month of August in Milwaukee, and we still have only just begun making all the arrangements for folks who keep a 24/7 vigil on our Kearney home while we are gone.
The biggest news of the year is the birth of Emma Rhoades and Collins Madden to Keagan and Brian (and Tallon) Lenihan. The trip to say good-bye to the Coffees will also allow our hello to the twins! “Aunt” Nancy has had a very fulfilling result to all her work organizing what exists in what we call the “next largest archive” in the State of Nebraska—our boxes of memorabilia. Recently she has been focusing on the voluminous certificates, letters, recognitions, and documents surrounding her father’s military career. Col. Barclay T. Resler received the Legion of Merit Award for his vital work in reorganizing the transportation corps during the Occupation and the conflict in Korea. In March, she took an outline of all that we have to the War Archive at the UNL Library to see if they might want some of it. TBTG—they want all of it! She did such a great job of organizing that they could see immediately how it fit their mission.
Three more things resulted from her work on our “archives”—we found and UNL accepted a paper Chuck had written years ago for the O.K. Bouwsma archive, and then Jeanetta Drueke and Mike Cartwright gave us a tour of the new learnings commons at Love Library. Jeanetta is overseeing the whole project with great (and gorgeous) results. And, Nancy uncovered her grandfather George C. Snow’s involvement in creating the post of Poet Laureate. Chuck worked some of that into an article for the Nebraska Center for the Book, a talk for Torch Club, and a blog post.
Stan Dart and Chuck are hoping that fall might bring a reprise of their Sunshine Boys at the Kearney Community Theatre. Fall will also take us back to McCook for Chuck’s 55th class reunion and during it he will get to deliver his second George W. Norris talk at McCook’s Heritage Days prayer breakfast.
Meanwhile, his chapbook, Breezes on Their Way to Being Winds, is due out from Finishing Line Press (thank you Susan Swartwout, Charles Fort, and Chad Christensen for ‘promoting’ it) on June 19. [You can pre-order at www.finishinglinepress.com]
One of these days, we are going to really retire!
RIP
My face is a bit red over the Christmas blog…one sentence made it sound as though Bishop Rod Michel had joined his beloved Marie in being departed. Not so…as many of you pointed out. Either Rod does not read my blog or was too kind to point out my error. Easter seems a good time to give thankful notice of his presence among the living! Not so, however, for the following who constitute the usual RIP section of the holy day’s reflections:
From the Church: Marcus Borg, Mark Dyer, Malcom Boyd, our own Deacons John Titus and Dottie Woolf, and our own priests Cal Hedelson and Larry Jaynes.
In the National news: Ernie Banks, long-time hero of the Chicago Cubs; Philip Levine, extraordinary poet (whom Nancy and I had the pleasure of meeting and hearing in person), Leonard Nimoy and Richard Attenborough, actors of much note; wonderful writers Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Tadeus Konwicki, and Maya Angelou; and singer Ruby Dee.
The last Oscars award ceremony reminded me of names omitted from my reflections last Christmastide, including James Garner, Mike Nichols, Lauren Bacall, and Eli Wallach
I just learned in Nebraska Magazine of the death last November of Mordecai Marcus. When I was being approved to begin work on a dissertation in American Literature (Faulkner), my committee discovered I had never ever had a course in American Literature. Mordy insisted I take one! The only one available to me in the time frame was his American Poetry class. Turned out to be one of the most useful courses I took at UNL…and saved me from being a complete autodidact!
And from among our friends: Gidge Beatty, Gary Etherton, Dusty Jorgensen, Barbara “Babs” MacKnight, and Mary Lou O’Brien.
Our contact information remains:
Chuck: cpeek.cp@gmail.com 308-293-2177
Nancy: nancyjpeek@gmail.com 308-293-3386
2010 Fifth Avenue, Kearney, NE 68845
Whatever brings hope to your heart this season of lengthening days and greater light, we wish you much new joy!
Love,
Chuck and Nancy
A poem (from the “Breezes” collection) follows:
I Walk in the Garden Alone
Though spring is still a week away,
I felt called today to the garden, to take up
The helm of the tiller and turn the earth,
This on the ides when Caesar learned
How uncertain the march of time can be;
Oh how brief, the psalmist says, may be our portion.
It is while I till away that I think,
Should I die now, I’d like you to say
I died in the garden.
You don’t need to say that it is not much of a garden,
Any more than I am much of a gardener,
Only that it was in the garden.
Where we have worked together.
Where we’ve heard call our names.
Where things have grown that brought us joy.
March 15, 2006
Kearney, Nebraska
capeek 