by Chuck Peek
The world is like a Mask dancing. If you want to see it well, you do not stand in one place.
Chinua Achebe as printed in Anu Garg’s Word-A-Day
Dear Family and Friends, near and far,
First a little meditation for the season: Christmas Began with the Birth of Jesus—sort of!
Jesus’ birth first appears in the accounts of a birth in both Luke and Matthew’s Gospels. Gospels don’t depend on narratives of either the birth or resurrection. Mark gets by without either and John tells a cosmic story of Jesus’ origins instead of a birth narrative. But Luke and Matthew … where do you suppose they got their narratives? Research in the Jerusalem public library? Entries in Mary’s day book?
Instead, they crafted a story that would proclaim a Lord other than the only Lord the world then knew, Caesar. The story would proclaim a new world order, an order that would upset the applecart of the old world…an alternative order that later followers called Christians would often forget!
The accounts of it in the two Gospels immediately put the birth in the context of the political world of the times. Luke begins the story by dating it from “In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus” (Luke 2:1)
Now, in case your education didn’t put Caesar Augustus firmly into your mind, here is a brief historical note (from Dr. J. Barry Vaugh “When Men Were Numbered,” TAD Winter 2019 8-11): On September 23, 63 BC, a son was born to a prominent Roman family, given the name Gaius, and, upon adoption by Julius Caesar, took the name Octavian. He was elected consul in 43 BC and on January 16, 27 B.C., the Roman senate gave him the name Augustus.
Through military might, Augustus presided over a period of extraordinary peace, the Pax Romana as it is known. An inscription from 7 B.C. lauds him, calling him “the divine Caesar” and indicates he became ruler when “everything was deteriorating and changing into misfortune, but he set it right . . . the birthday of the god was the beginning of the good news to the world on his account.” (Augustus died when Jesus was 20 years old.)
When, over a half a century later Luke opened his Gospel with an account of Jesus’ birth story, you can hear the echo of the inscription to Augustus. Luke’s echo reads: Behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people . . . Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace” (Luke 2:8-14)
Luke was called an “evangelist”—the word is taken from the Roman term for the kind of news bulletin (as Tricia Gates Brown puts it 12/13/17) that “they would post,” usually “after the Romans . . . would march into a rebellious colony and wreak havoc” or “commemorate the birthday of Caesar Augustus.”
I doubt any of us could have told anyone the reputed date of Augustus’ birth. But, believers or non-believers, we all know the reputed date of Jesus’ birth. But I suspect we don’t immediately hear Luke’s purpose here…to say that what Rome said about Augustus should have been said about Jesus instead…that the power of the Roman state was false, that the power belonged instead to a criminal that Rome had crucified in the outback of the empire. If you are fast-forwarding to the set up for Star Wars, believe me, it isn’t an accident.
But, even within that political strategy, more ironies abound. Of course, to describe a king’s lineage, they have to start with a King, in this case little Davey of play on your harp fame, but on the way what a lineage: it proclaims a peace based on non-violence rather than a peace enforced by violence, but the political empire is not the only apple cart being upset. So are the social arrangements and cultural assumptions.
Just as Luke dates the story politically, he also begins it personally, with Mary, the young pregnant teenaged girl, a girl in search for a place to give birth and the place “arranged” by an Emperor exacting a tax.
It is in Matthew’s inclusion of four women in the genealogy of Jesus that we prepare for a woman to be part of a lineage—quite unlike the old “Abraham begat Isaac, Isaac begat Jacob” stories that left women out of it. Those four women—Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba—as duly noted later by both the Catholic St. Jerome and the Protestant Martin Luther—were not considered in the old world as paragons of virtue!
Rahab was a prostitute, Ruth a destitute homeless and “man-less” wanderer, Bathsheba an adulteress, but Matthew squeezed them into the genealogy of Jesus because one kept the genealogy alive, another helped win the battle of Jericho, another became the mother of King Solomon.
So, Luke and Matthew went to great lengths to show that, from Adam’s fall onward, the birth of this Jesus fellow was God’s plan to restore humanity and creation—it was all prophesied from the start…the fact it would all stem from a woman (Mary), that it would fall within the lineage of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; that it would take place in Bethlehem; that it would occur in the Age of Rome.
But this sense of a divine plan, a divine identity for Jesus—Son of God or Cristos—Messiah—was coupled with an equally adamant insistence, of which the genealogies are the proof, that Jesus is human, the insistence upon which was the subject of some of the earliest Christian writing, e.g., Ignatius of Antioch. That is, in sum, the birth narratives are not so much historical chronologies as they are constructed to make a point, a point at once political and theological.
And the combination of the two carry a moral dimension into our own theology, our own politics, our own moral compass.
Writing in an article entitled “Seeing Mary,” Trinity University in San Antonio, Texas, Associate Professor Kelly Grey Carlisle told the story of a young pregnant woman stranded in a bus station, short $8.00 of the $28.00 price of a ticket to Austin, Texas. She may or may not have been deserted by her husband; at any rate he wasn’t around when Carlisle encountered the woman. Wherever he was at the moment, however, he had the other $20.00 needed for the ticket.
What struck me about the story came at its conclusion, when Carlisle wrote, “I didn’t see that pregnant woman tonight . . . I saw a pregnant girl from 2,000 years ago, looking for an inn in a strange town, being told “no,” “no,” “no.” I saw her Son who promised that women like the woman in the bus station would inherit the earth . . . and I wonder[ed] how much longer we will have to wait for that promise to be filled. (TAD Winter 2019 6-8)
Christmastide, then, is a season for wonder—a wandering in a winter wonderland—in more ways than one!
Whatever light shines in whatever dark spots for you, we pray it blesses you with deep wonder and great hope and a peace that passes all understanding,
Chuck and Nancy Peek
Christmastide 2022
Our News, what we’ve done and, God willing and the creek don’t rise, might be doing.
All in all, 2022 has been a pretty eventful year. Nancy kept up with her work on the Kearney Action Network (KAN) steering committee, as KAN put on several information programs on local issues, some of them part of the election, and she began tutoring for the Literacy Council. Chuck taught a couple of courses for Senior College (Reading Art Reading Us and Thinking About What’s Been Thought) and History of the Episcopal Church for the Bishop Kemper School for Ministry in Topeka, and now and then, here and there celebrated and preached for our own and other parishes. Both of us worked hard to support the Gala and Auction of the late Elmer Holzrichter’s art works held at St. Luke’s
Together we helped the community mount a series of flash rallies to show support for each of the schools in the Kearney Public School system. Like many systems across the country, our schools have been under attack regarding issues such as sex education and telling the truth about American History. KPS is where both of our children received the bulk of their formal education and, like other public schools, is the one place mandated in our state constitution to accept and teach every child who comes to them. John Turek, Chair of Buffalo County Democrats, came up with the idea of flash rallies but he and the BCD did not want the issue politicized so in turn left it to civic groups to mount the rallies, and the benefit was our rallies were backed by members of all parties and independents.
Twice, TV reporters showed up to see what the rallies were about, and those they interviewed made it clear we had nothing against any form of schooling—parochial schools or home schooling. Neither of these, however, is under attack in our town or state. We were not out to quarrel about parental choice of schools but showed up only to indicate a strong support for what KPS teachers and students, coaches and counselors, staff and administration were doing as well as they knew how and circumstances allowed. Could there be improvement? Sure. But misinformation, fear, and bullying are not solutions to problems.
Our other joint venture was to be Poll Workers for the first time. Believe me, that’s a long day! Showed up at 7:00 a.m. and wrapped up business at our polling places (Nancy at the American Legion and Chuck at St. James RC Church) in time to get a burger and shake at Freddie’s about 9:15 p.m.
It was a disappointing day in many ways—here, the R by a candidate’s name still means more than issues or character (both of which R used to care about), and Nebraska passed up the opportunity to make its next Governor a person with a fine bi-partisan record in the State Legislature (Unicameral, here) who actually offered practical ways we could meet our challenges and instead elected a dime store cowboy who didn’t require any help to make him look ridiculous. We’d marched in the UNK Homecoming parade with Danielle Helzer, running for State Board of Education—wholesome, smart, dedicated—and defeated by the protect Nebraska’s children from learning anything that might challenge them candidate.
Gathering with the Helzer folks for UNK Homecoming Parade
BUT…we did stop three of the four people running for our school board from that same group and elected two sound, sane, and thoughtful people…not bad for living in the epicenter of the belligerent and bigoted tide that swept other cities.
And we took our first real outing since COVID—attending the International Hemingway Conference in Sheridan, Wyoming (3 days) and Cooke City, Montana (another 3 days)—a wonderful conference in which we saw a few old friends, made new ones, and lamented the loss of some “aficionados” we’d loved seeing at these in the past…people duly noted in our quarterly In Memoriam blogs. A real plus for us was getting to have lunch in Billings with Jan Blackburn, my last living cousin’s daughter. [Faulkner this year has been Bob Hamblin’s book of essays, with Carl Rolyson’s new Faulkner bio in the waiting, to be begun right after finishing our friend David Rozema’s polemic on Philosophy of Literature]
A Martinez and Craig Johnson of Longmire fame at Hemingway Conference Sheridan, Wyoming
Mt. Amphitheater as seen from our lodgings in Silvergate, Montana
Nancy turned 78 and Chuck 80 and celebrated with a coffee hour at St. Luke’s, a dinner in Grand Island with friends we made when Chuck served St. Stephen’s there, dinner and a Husker game with daughter Noelle and her family.
Birthday gift Husker game, boys in south stadium, girls north
Then on to Milwaukee for dinner and a volleyball game with our son George and his family, and a brunch with some of our close friends here. This was our second trip to Milwaukee, the first being for Greta’s confirmation, making a trifecta with the Peek’s visit here in March
Greta with grandmothers Martha and Nancy
Meanwhile, Noelle finished up helping with the Diocesan “circles” of Sacred Ground, worked to plan the Civil Rights pilgrimage this coming summer, and started a new venture with Fr. Mark Selvey on taking Word and Sacrament to the unchurched. Son-in-law Harlan dodged having to sit on a stage and be grilled by the discontent—all because his school budget didn’t cause their county mill levy to increase. Property tax rules our political discourse here and people still vote for the party that has had 25 years to do something about property taxes and has done bupkis! Rowan is getting closer to a pilot’s license and Brody is laboring over a term paper on the Israeli-Palestinian issues at Nebraska Wesleyan.
With a son who went to Marquette and a grandson at Wesleyan, we still can claim to be the Via Media! At our little depot of the VM, St. Luke’s, Nancy is part of the weekly Prayer Group and we are both assisting with the smallest youngsters in their Wednesday evening Christian Education class. St. Luke’s hosted the Diocesan Annual Council this year and its opening night greeting and worship and its hospitality were welcomed with much praise from the delegates.
George accepted the invitation to join a new law firm, Von Briesen and Roper. He had enjoyed the old firm and looks forward to enjoying the new. Laura Grace is now President of the School Board at Mount Olive. Will, Greta, Huck, and Lou seem to be thriving—good minds and hearts all. George’s band experience is still alive and well in his heart and, as a result, music is beginning to spread throughout the household population as each gets old enough to start learning an instrument. A rare treat when we were there a couple of days…morning roll and coffee alone with Laura Grace at the Colectivo by Lake Michigan.
One new development. Chuck has been working on the story of how life brought him to a changed mind and heart about issues of race and gender, one small piece of which was teaching one of the first Black Studies classes offered at what was then called NU. One day he received an email from a Frank Edler who was working on NU’s first attempts to incorporate Black Studies for the Lincoln NAACP, and they began comparing notes and finally, on one of Chuck’s trips to Lincoln, were able to meet for coffee and talk about their work…and discover that Frank is married to Mary Kay Stillwell, a fine Nebraska poet whose work Chuck has admired for years.
Those trips also allowed Chuck to take grandson Brody to the Mellow Mushroom for dinner and “allowed” friend and Cather stalwart Steve Shively to take Chuck to coffee to catch up on things Cather. In the “it’s a small world” category, the reporter from one of the news outlets that covered our school rallies turned out to be Steve’s nephew!
It has been a whirlwind here as this is being written—the 15 school rallies, the conclusion of Chuck’s Senior College class, the annual Evers family bonfire, Chuck leading two retreats at Saint Mark’s on the Campus (one hosted at friend and former St. Mark’s Parish Administrator Bill Huenemann’s home that just escaped burning in the Lancaster County fires just a week later!), a wonderful dinner at Linda Anderson’s when old friends Bev Nelson and Carla Brooke were in town, the annual focus weekend at Bishop Kemper School for Ministry in Topeka (where, en route, Jim and Bev Carothers—and Cathleen in absentia—treated us to lunch at the Mad Greek in Lawrence). Then, a rush back to Kearney for the International Food Festival and World Affairs Conference, this year led by friend Michelle Evers Warren, a trip to Alliance to celebrate with St. Matthew’s their Consecration Sunday, our good friends Marty and Clark stopping for a night on their way to South Dakota for Thanksgiving, all amidst the weekly Friday lunches Chuck enjoys with the “brain trust” and Wednesday lunches Nancy and some girlfriends have started up.
Both of us still keep up with several 12-step recovery meetings a week, and Chuck works almost daily on entries for the website that chronicles and celebrates Kearney’s arts, with recent entries of Tom Miles’ “Liars Bench” stories, Nathan Tye’s piece on Solomon Butcher, Jerry Fox’s piece on visiting speakers at UNK— go to kearneycreates.com. (With many thanks to the website’s webmaster Kelly Nowicki!)
Coming up: Thanksgiving with the Ptomey’s, including Brody’s Birthday…preparations for Christmas…taking part in the Prairie Art Brothers retelling of “Twas the Night Before Christmas” (to be reprised at the Torch Club here) and giving a couple of Christmas talks, one at the nearby historic Salem Methodist Church. Chuck will be celebrating and preaching somewhere TBD…and finishing up the quarterly “In Memoriam” for his monthly blog—see Cpeek@WordPress.com. In the new year we’ll be tracing former student Eric Reeds progress toward promotion and Kearney Creates will be posting entries for Kearney’s Sesquicentennial on visiting celebrities from over the years and artists, now here or elsewhere, who were “locally grown” here.
Nancy keeps asking when we might retire. Soon, Chuck’s bum knee seems to prompt.
A Poem for the Season
Who Is This Stupendous Stranger?
“Be of good cheer,” he’d say, almost to himself,
As anyone passed by. “Good Cheer!”
The cement walk beneath where he sat
Must often have been cold, his old hat
And jacket his only warmth until a passer by
Took off a glove to fish out a quarter
To place in his cup, and finding it missing
A quarter block away, couldn’t muster enough
Effrontery to go back and retrieve it, seeing as how
It now warmed the hand that held the cup. His shaggy
Gray hair hung down on his shoulders
And around his ears, and the years were creases
On his face as pronounced as the veins
On his ungloved hand. His perch on the street,
For some time the same, just north of the double doors
On Mr. Doveton’s store, having quietly been asked
To move on from other storefronts he’d briefly
Graced, whose windows had once mirrored
His head and shoulders. Not much to be cheerful about,
Mother had said, but something brought him around
Just before Christmas each year, to sit until its Eve,
Then stand at one of the smaller clear windows
Of the Church of the Nativity, Mr. Doveton’s church,
And take up watch in the starlit cold, to see
The lighted greens and golds of the Midnight Mass,
His final “Good Cheer,” season after season,
Uttered to the worshippers as they left for home.
Next Blog: at New Year’s, the quarterly In Memoriam
capeek 