Remembering Ernie Banks

There is no bigger Cub’s fan than Harry Strong. Ernie Banks – “Mr. Cub” – who died Friday night, was his hero. And Harry KNOWS baseball.  So much so that the editor of American Sports: A History of Icons, Idols, and Ideas [published by ABC-CLIO, LLC in 2013], invited Harry to write the entry on Ernie Banks.

Harry sent the following photograph and email to six close friends who gather annually:

I only met him once, but it’s a day I’ll never forget. In July 2004, while I was serving as interim pastor at the Morrisville Presbyterian Church in Morrisville, Pennsylvania, just across the river from Trenton, I learned that Ernie would be appearing at a Baseball Card Show in Atlantic City about two hours away and signing autographs from 1:00 – 3:00 p.m. I informed Anna [Harry’s wife] that WE WERE DEFINITELY DRIVING TO ATLANTIC CITY immediately following the benediction at the 11:00 a.m. service since this might be my only chance to meet this hero whom I’d idolized since I was 10!

Traffic was heavy. The trip took longer than I’d hoped, so we did not arrive at the Card Show in Atlantic City until 2:45 p.m. I hoped and prayed Ernie would still be there, but our late arrival proved to be most fortunate if not providential. When we found Ernie and his agent in a large room behind a table, they were the only ones in the room. Apparently, all the other attendees hoping to meet him had come early and moved on to other baseball celebrities and exhibits. Apparently, all the other attendees hoping to meet him had come early and moved on to other baseball celebrities and exhibits.

Ernie and his agent greeted us warmly. I told Ernie I had grown up in the shadow of Wrigley Field before moving to Glen Ellyn in 1951. I told him that Phil Cavarretta, Cub first baseman and later Ernie’s first manager, had moved into the apartment in which my parents and I had lived after our move. I confessed that I had idolized Ernie as a child and that I owned all of his baseball cards from 1954 until his retirement in 1971. I had brought along several items of memorabilia hoping that Ernie would sign them. There was an established signing fee for each individual piece, but Ernie signed a card, ball, cap, poster, and several other items all for the price of one item.

Mr. Cub (L) & Mr. Strong (R)

Mr. Cub (L) & Mr. Strong (R)

He also consented to pose with me for a picture, which Anna snapped.

About that time, Louis Armstrong’s “Hello Dolly” began playing over the sound system in the room. Ernie and I began singing along with “Satchmo,” while Ernie’s agent took Anna by the arm and they began to waltz around the room together.

By the end of the dance it was after 3:00 p.m., so Anna and I offered our sincere thanks for their gracious welcome, their time, and Ernie’s generous signatures. As they bid us farewell, I noticed that Ernie was limping badly. I asked if the pain was in his knees and he acknowledged indeed it was. Then I told him that by age 53 I had been walking with a cane because of the pain in my right knee due to the loss of cartilage, so that I was hobbling around “bone-on bone.” BUT – I had found an orthopedic surgeon in Trenton who was willing to perform knee-replacement surgery for me at a relatively young age for such a procedure.  I told him I had been pain-free for 8 years and demonstrated for him my ability to jump up and down and squat like Jody Davis behind home plate. I urged him to give serious consideration to having the knee(s) replaced (which he later did). I’m sure he received all kinds of solicited (and unsolicited) advice regarding the procedure – but I was thrilled to learn later that indeed he had had both knees replaced and that he enjoyed many more years of more comfortable mobility on the golf course and elsewhere.

After that memorable afternoon in Atlantic City, Anna met him twice, at HoHoKam Park, the Cubs former Spring Training home in Mesa, Arizona. Both times I was too busy attempting to secure autographs from present and future Cub “stars” along the right field line before the start of the Cactus League game. (My loss.)

The first time, Anna waited patiently while Mr. Cub spent time talking with an older woman so she could greet Ernie again and remind him of our meeting a few years before in Atlantic City, when he and I had performed while she and Ernie’s agent danced to “Hello Dolly.” Ernie greeted Anna warmly, seemed to recall their earlier meeting, and signed her Cubs cap, which I am wearing as I type.

Anna’s later encounter with Ernie came a few years later when she saw him beneath the stands at HoHoKam Park. Unfortunately, that was a less pleasant meeting. Anna found Ernie disoriented and confused, attempting to make his way to the press box for an interview. After speaking with Ernie briefly, she quickly grabbed the attention of an usher who was able to assist Ernie in getting to the press box.

As a lifelong Cub fan, I will forever cherish the opportunity I had to spend a few minutes with this gifted ball player and remarkable man!

P.S. As I reread my article just now, I was struck by this quote from Ernie I’d included [in the American Sports entry]:

“When I die, I want my ashes to be spread over Wrigley Field with the wind blowing out!”

— Rev. Harry Lee Strong, H.R.  Prescott, AZ 

EDITOR”S NOTE: The Cubs have a real shot at going to the World Series this year. Perhaps, in honor of Mr. Cub, they’ll win it all in “the Friendly Confines” of Wrigley Field “with the wind blowing out”.

Verse – Laments and Transmutations

O
to
see
them
whole
before
laments
overcome
excessive
confidence
anticipating
transmutation

gcs
St. Augustine, FL
1.23.2015

————-

So…you may be wondering what this is, the desire to see them who now before we lament the day we missed the opportunity. We need to pay attention NOW and act on behalf of wholeness in THIS LIFE instead of indulging in excessive confidence in an afterlife to remedy the injustices of how.

“Young and old lie together in the dust of the streets; my young men and young women have fallen by the sword. You have slain them in the day of your anger; you have slaughtered them without pity.” – Lamentations, 2:21, NIV

Mr. Cub and Dr. Borg

Ernie Banks, known with great affection against his protestations as “Mr. Cub”, died yesterday, two days after theologian Marcus Borg.

Each excelled in his respective field, Ernie in the ivy-covered walls of  “the Friendly Confines” of Wrigley Field, Marcus in the ivy-covered walls of the academy. Though their fields were different, their way of life was the same. It was humble.

Ernie objected to the “Mr. Cub” title, arguing that the designation should be shared among team members who excelled each year.

Marcus responded to the question “How do you know you’re right?” with “I don’t know. I don’t know that I’m right.”

Each was humble, and each anticipated death.

“I may have ten years left. Not sure I want more. There comes a time to let go. And I could, with gratitude, sooner than that. My life has been very blessed.”

Dr. Marcus Borg (Mar. 11, 1942 – Jan. 21, 2015) to former student and friend, the Very Reverend Barkley Thompson, October, 2014.

“When I die, I want my ashes to be spread over Wrigley Field with the wind blowing out!”

–  “Mr. Cub” – Ernie Banks (Jan. 31, 1931 – Jan. 23, 2015)

Thank you, Gentlemen, for the memories. R.I.P.

Verse – The Chicago Shortstop Smiles in Heaven

Ernie Banks rocks a robe that’s Cubs blue.
Pennant hopes are eternal, it’s true,
Wrigley’s sky might be gray,
Mr. Cub will still say:
“It’s a beautiful day–let’s play two!”

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, Jan. 25, in memory of Mr. Cub, Ernie Banks.

Ernie Banks (Jan. 31, 1931 – Jan. 23, 2015), the MLB Hall of Fame shortstop affectionately known by the ever-hopeful Cubs fans of Wrigley Field as Mr. Cub, died yesterday at the age of 83.

Kurumba tribal woman of Attappadi

The weathered face and eyes of the Kurumba woman living in the interiors of the forest in Kerala, India, seems to say, “I see you. Do you see me? What do you see of me and you – I, living deep in the interior forest, and you, in whatever forest you’re living?” Thank you, Joshi Daniel, for sharing what your eyes see.

joshi daniel's avatarJoshi Daniel Photography

Black and white portrait of an old Kurumba tribe woman of Attappadi in Palakkad district of Kerala

Read more: Kurumba tribe

Nominate your favorite photoblogs for the Fifteenth Annual Weblog Awards: The 2015 Bloggies http://2015.bloggi.es/#photography

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Marcus Borg Up Close and Personal

Marcus Borg

Marcus Borg

Marcus Borg (1942-2015), renowned scholar, teacher, and theologian of progressive Christianity, died January 21, 2015. (Click HERE for information on Dr. Borg.) When Don Dempsey learned of his death, he wrote to six close friends. Views from the Edge publishes it here with permission:

This morning I received notice of Marcus Borg’s death.

Marcus was one of my favorites – he spoke to me.  His “The Heart of Christianity” was one of the most meaningful books I’ve ever read!  I also used his book “Speaking Christian” for several adult ed classes.

When I served as an interim pastor at the First Presbyterian Church of Lake Forest, I coordinated and arranged for Marcus to be present for a weekend visit.  It began with a Friday night presentation, followed by a Saturday workshop, and preaching at both services on Sunday.  He was controversial to some, but I loved it all.  Saturday was standing room only with the majority who were present not from FPC.  He had quite a Chicagoland following. 

It was my honor and privilege to be his guide and host the whole weekend.  It began on Thursday as Meg and I picked him up at O’Hare airport.  We told him we’d meet him at the baggage claim.  As Meg was getting out to go in and find Marcus, she asked, “how will I recognize him?”  She found him right away. 

After picking him up on Thursday we had a delightful conversation driving him to his hotel in Lake Forest.  As we dropped him off we asked, what are your dinner plans?

He said, “What do you suggest?”  We looked at each other and quickly said “Why don’t you get settled in and we’ll be back and pick you up for dinner at our house.”

What a great evening!  Marcus was such a warm and engaging person, he wanted to know all about us, he listened so intently to our stories.  That evening sitting on our deck sharing conversation, beaking bread, and sharing wine was indeed a celebration of communion that Meg and I shall never ever forget.

He inscribed my copy of “The Heart of Christianity” on 9/16/06:

To Don and Meg,
With rich memories, gratitude for your hospitality, and best wishes.
Marcus Borg

Rest in peace my friend, your voice and your presence will be greatly missed!

Don and Meg Dempsey

Don and Meg Dempsey, gracious hosts of Marcus Borg

Don and Meg Dempsey, gracious hosts of Marcus Borg

The Rev. Dr. Donald Dempsey and and Meg live in Fort Sheridan, Highland Park, IL. Don is one of six McCormick Theological Seminary friends who gather annually for renewal of friendship and theological inquiry.

 

“I don’t know that I’m right”

Marcus Borg‘s answer to the question “How do you know you’re right?” is spot on.

“I don’t. I don’t know that I ‘m right.”

Barkley Thompson reports the exchange in yesterday’s posting on God in the Midst of the City following Dr. Borg’s deathre-posted today on Views from the Edge as “Tribute to Marcus Borg (1942-2015)”.

I never met Marcus Borg. I wish I had. We were born in 1942 within a few months of each other. You might say we grew up next door to each other in different towns. There’s something about time that situates people in the same location, asking the same or similar questions, searching the same search, vexed, in our case, by the early horrors of World War II, German concentration camps, the Holocaust, and the American bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. As children of faith we grew up asking how we could square a loving God with the stacked bodies of Auschwitz and Hiroshima, the economic disparities of poverty and injustice of racial segregation.  As happened to a lesser extent with some of his peers, Marcus developed a theology and Christology that rose out of these compelling questions about the real world that had shaped him, and the irrepressable hope for something better that drove him deeper and wider as he grew older and wiser.

Marcus’s humble response to the questioner who asked how he knew he was right -“I don’t know. I don’t know that I’m right” – is one for the ages. If only we could clone it to create a humbler humanity of neighborliness across all the terror our world is making, we might fetch the blessing from the curse of absolute religious certainty.

“God’s dream for us is not simply peace of mind, but peace on earth.”- Marcus J.Borg & John Dominic Crossan, The First Christmas, 2007, HarperOne.

– Gordon C. Stewart, Chaska, MN, January 22, 2015

 

Tribute to Marcus Borg (1942 – 2015)

Cover of Marcus Borg book

Cover of Marcus Borg book

Marcus Borg’s writing and teaching affected millions.  Steve Shoemaker received an email of Marcus’s death yesterday from Barkley Thompson, who had quickly writtten the following tribute to Marcus on his blog “God in the Midst of the City“.

My friend, Marcus Borg
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 21, 2015 / THE VERY REVEREND BARKLEY THOMPSON

Marcus Borg died this morning after a prolonged illness. I received a phone call this afternoon from a Cathedral parishioner and friend of Marcus, relaying the news to me.

I first became aware of Marcus Borg when I was a sophomore at Hendrix College. His landmark book, Jesus: A New Vision had just been released. It hit me at exactly the right time. I was a philosophy & religion major who knew God and increasingly knew about God, but I had little room or need for Jesus. Marcus’ book gave me an entirely new access point: to consider Jesus as Jesus had been historically, as a wisdom teacher, a healer, a social prophet, and more.

Marcus Borg

Marcus Borg

I first heard Marcus speak at Hendrix. He was the epitome of a college professor, right down to the cardigan sweater and pipe. He spoke calmly and with passion, and the first time I heard him in person was also the first time I understood how those tho things–calm and passion–could coincide.

I heard Marcus speak several other times over the years, but it was after I’d become a priest that I came to know him personally. When he was the annual Dodson Lecturer at St. John’s-Roanoke, he and I went to dinner. I was starstruck and wanted to quiz him about his research and his approach to Christianity. He’d have none of it. Marcus wanted only to talk about me, about St. John’s, about our ministry, and about my experience as a young priest in the Episcopal Church. He was solely interested in me, and I’ve never forgotten it.

Several shared meals and opportunities for fellowship later, my Christology has become higher and higher as the years have gone by. In ways I could not have done all those years ago in college, I now attest without hesitation that Jesus the Christ is God Incarnate, the hinge of history, the defeater of death, and the fulfillment in a single human life of God’s hopes for the whole world. And yet, my approach to Holy Scripture, my social convictions, and my love for the Episcopal Church mirror Marcus’ own perspectives quite closely. I once introduced Marcus to a church audience by saying, “I agree with roughly 75% of what Marcus will say to you this evening.” When he stepped into the pulpit, Marcus quipped, “I’m tempted to forego my notes and discuss with Barkley the other 25%!”

Unlike so many other writers in the field of religion (on both ends of the spectrum), Marcus was humble. Once one of my parishioners asked him during Q&A, “But how do you know that you’re right?” He paused, looked at her thoughtfully, and said, “I don’t know. I don’t know that I’m right.”

Very many people who had left the Christian faith have returned to it through Marcus’ evangelism (though he would grimace at my use of the word, I suspect). Marcus was a Christian, a follower of Jesus Christ in word and in deed. He understood Jesus (and especially the Resurrection) differently than I do. But the veracity of his faith was clear. And calm. And passionate.

Marcus and I last corresponded in late November. I’d asked how he was doing, and he responded, “I may have ten years left. Not sure I want more. There comes a time to let go. And I could, with gratitude, sooner than that. My life has been very blessed.”

Like Abraham, Marcus was blessed so that he could be a blessing. He blessed my life, and I am grateful.

NOTE: Since February 2013, Barkley serves as the eighth dean and twentieth rector of historic Christ Church Cathedral in Houston, Texas.  Click HERE for more information about the him.

 

Water is NOT a Commodity

Video

Nine (9) year-old Luke Sekera-Flanders of Fryeburg in Maine’s poorest county, Oxford County, took on the Nestle company, one of the world’s largest bottled water-for-profit producers, which was seeking a 45 year contract with the Public Utilities Commission. Nestle’s CEO has declared there is no human right to water and that the way to preserve water is to put a price on it. Nestle sees water as a commodity.

“I get my water from the Fryeburg Water Company,” said Luke. “In school we learn about being a good neighbor….”

Sometimes we live on different planets, one public and poor; the other private and getting richer. Or different sides of an aisle as at last night’s State of the Union Address. Score one for the Psalmist: “Out of the mouths of babes and suckling…” (Ps. 8:2)  Click the link below to hear Fryeburg’s little David, Luke Sekera-Flanders.

Boy testifying against Nestle contract in Fryeburg, Maine

This video won a special place in my heart. Oxford County is my maternal ancestral home. My mother and the rest of the Titus and Andrews family would be so proud of Luke.

Another Verse by Steve Shoemaker

Bees

Ora Conley had not liked
her middle name,
so she said, “I’m Ora Bee!”
It had a ring…
She was teased by kids, of course,
“Don’t sting! Don’t sting!”

She had ten kids of her own
and gave the same
name to her child number three,
“She’s Wilma Bee.”
Willie hated “Wilma,” but
she kept the “Bee”
and she passed it on to daughter
Nadja Bee.

Nadja kept her middle name
just for family:
one odd name would do for school,
thank you very
much… “My Dad was reading
Dostoyevsky!”
Her daughter naturally was
her Marla Bee.

Grace Olivia Bee carries
on the fame…

Grace

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, January 20, 2014,

Photo is of Grace Olivia Bee at age 11, grand daughter of Nadja Bee, great-great-grand daughter to Ora Bee, and grand daughter of Nadja’s husband. That would be Steve, who loves bees.