Wednesday, July 27, 2022

Slow Fade - Retirement Year Three

 

The sign itself is more than a dozen years old. 

In 2006, the Episcopal Church, in a burst of energy, took over the old Church of Christ Scientist south of the West Lafayette high school. Dr. Jack Kelley decided we needed a presence at both ends of Good Shepherd's new street. So Jack went ahead and ordered two "Welcome" signs for the busy intersections of Meridian & Grant and Meridian & Northwestern. Today they look shabby.

The Lambeth Conference is taking place in England. A decennial assembly of bishops of the Anglican Communion, it was postponed by Covid from 2018. Lambeth started talking about sex in 1998. It is still talking about sex.

The Episcopal Church held its General Convention this summer in Baltimore. I have no idea what it did. I expect I would agree with whatever it did. But the news from the convention is that there is no news from the convention.

The Episcopal Diocese of Indianapolis left the Interchurch Center near Butler University to rent office space in downtown Indianapolis from Christ Church Cathedral. I am sure both parties benefited from the contraction. Our cathedral is next door to another iconic memorial, Monument Circle.

I wonder, three years out from my retirement (my last Sunday service at Good Shepherd was August 4, 2019) why this fade doesn't bother me more. It does bother me; it concerns me about as much as the Chicago White Sox's once promising team fading to .500 this season. Was it the injuries? Is Tony LaRussa too old to manage?

Part of the shrug is my being disappointed by the diocese at the end of my professional career. That ended any meaningful allegiance to the local institution. Another is the lack of political energy the church seems able to muster in the face of the rise of Christian nationalism. Without it, the church becomes a hobby, a therapy, a performance. Their righteous Jesus claims to save babies and runs for school board. Our non-binary Jesus is working on "they/them" pronouns and self-care. Which is nice; but then what? We leave 'tikkum olam", the repair of the world, to Jewish Democrats.

The Meridian St. signs are an embarrassment. They are public facing. They are faded. They are bent. They are metaphor. They point to a lack of energy or awareness in the church, as well as to a building down the street. Whatever.




 


 

Wednesday, July 20, 2022

Happy Fortieth Anniversary To Us !



"Whoever you are now, I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem. 
I whisper with my lips close to your ear . . . I love none better than you"
 
- To You
   Walt Whitman 
 
 
Randolph-Macon Woman's College-1980

Pretty cute, huh? 
 
Katy and I met because her sister Mary was a good Roman Catholic. That, and the Holy Cross Lynchburg rectory had a basement big enough to store student belongings over the summer. The rest is a really romantic story more than forty years long.
 

Bunder Home - June 26, 1982




 
If you'd like something salacious, something that could go between the glossy covers of romance fiction, I could tell it to you that way. If you prefer a lecture on cognitive restructuring, those are in print
 
" -Who wields a poem huger than the grave?
from only Whom shall time no refuge keep
though all the weird worlds must be opened?
)Love"

but if the living dance upon dead minds
ee cummings
Lexington, VA  Maury River 1983

But it's poetry really. All the intimacies of forty years. Magical. Silly. Remarkable. Desirable. Predictable. Unpleasant and unwelcome. Irretrievable. Comfortable. Spiritual. Kids. Grand-kids. If you put it out there like a history, it starts to seem a little common. Ordinary, with a few interesting and juicy bits, but still common. It feels better as a poem.
  
I sent this to Katy a long time ago and she said we should reread it on our 38th. anniversary.
 
 "Two lovers by a moss-frown spring:
They leaned soft cheeks together there,
Mingled the dark and sunny hair,
And heard the wooing thrushes sing.

O budding time !
O love's blest prime !

Two wedded from the portal stept:
The bells made happy carollings,
The air was soft as fanning wings,
White petals on the pathway slept.

O pure-eyed bride !
O tender pride !

Two faces o'er a cradle bent:
Two hands above the head were locked;
These pressed each other while they rocked,
Those watched a life that love had sent.

O solemn hour !
O hidden power !

Two parents by the evening fire:
The red light fell about their knees
On heads that rose by slow degrees
Like buds upon the lily spire.

O patient life !
O tender strife !

The two still sat together there,
The red shone about their knees;
But all the heads by slow degrees
Had gone and left that lonely pair.

O voyage fast !
O vanished past !

The red light shone upon the floor
And made the space between them wide:
They draw their chairs up side by side.
Their pale cheeks joined and said, "Once more !"

O memories !
O past that is !

Sweethearts Always 
George Eliot

Family Portrait 1988





I kept trying to work this song into my daughters wedding playlists. I don't think it ever made it. As an acknowledgment of the thought though, they took me to a "Florence and the Machine" concert on Northerly Island once on my birthday.
 
"This fantasy, this fallacy, this stumbling stone
Echoes in a city that's long overgrown
Your heart is the only place that I call home
Can I be returned? You can.
You can. We can. 
 
Just keep following 
The heartlines on your hand 
Just keep following 
The heartlines on your hand 
 
Keep it up. I know you can.  
Just keep following
The heartlines on your hand 
 
What a thing to do
What a thing to choose
But know, in some way, I'm there with you
Up against the wall on a Wednesday afternoon. 

Just keep following 
The heartlines on your hand 
Just keep following 
The heartlines on your hand 

Keep it up. I know you can.  
Just keep following
The heartlines on your hand 
'Cause I am."
 
Heartlines
- Florence Welch/Paul Epworth

Town & Gown - Mother's Day 2022

Pretty cute, huh?








Wednesday, July 13, 2022

Welcome Meredith !

 
 
My eldest daughter, Molly, has our newest grandchild, Meredith. Meredith Emily Palmer (5lbs 9oz) was born on March 16th. That was about a month early. Though as you can tell from the photo above, she's caught up! "Hey, did you know you can see EVERYTHING when you lift your head up?"
 
 She fits right in.

   
Rowan, Meredith, and Wilson
 
Poor Rowan never got her own blog post. I was still busy writing sermons when she was born.
 
But what I would say to Meredith applies to both my granddaughters. I have absolutely no anxiety about how your life will run. Only wonder. Your grandmother is beautiful and bright and talented; a woman of distinction ! Her daughters, your mothers, share those traits. So you will be well loved, well educated, and allowed a creativity that is increasingly sublimated in our culture to a desire for security and an expectation of production. That's lucky!

(Now, if you become accountants, that's okay too. Maybe you'll have cool hobbies :)
 
Molly apparently caught Andrew whispering to his baby daughter that she shouldn't worry about doing anything too practical with her life.

Amen.