When my dog’s on a trail I can’t see,
And I call him to sit by my knee,
It never takes long,
His idea is just gone,
And with age it now happens to me!
Steve and his constant companion
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, Jan. 28, 2015
NOTE: Steve and Nadja’s Collie enjoys the tall fields behind the Shoemaker home on the Illinois prairie, but his ears are tuned for his tall friend’s invitation. I [Gordon] would include his name, but I’ve forgotten.
She was young, white, and pregnant
when they moved
south. She had worked for Civil
Rights for blacks
up north. So seeing two doors
as she faced
the laundromat obscured
the sordid facts
of legal segregation
just before.
“Oh please, Ma’am, take your clothes
over next door,”
the old black woman said.
“Will you have trouble
if I stay?” “Please, Ma’am,
do as I say…”
The young woman had not
heard “Ma’am” before
from someone older, so
she turned her face —
embarrassed for her race ––
and went next door.
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, Jan. 27, 2015
NOTE: While working on a Ph.D. in Religion at Duke University, Steve pastored two yoked Presbyterian Churches: the 88 member Pittsboro, N.C., (pop. 1,500 then), and Mt. Vernon Springs (55? members) 30 miles west in rural Chatham County. Nadja drove from the Manse in Pittsboro 30 miles north to do Microbiology research at Duke. Son Daniel was born in March, 1970.
The Keystone XL pipeline is more than a pipeline. It’s a rich man’s pipe dream that calls to mind an alternate view of reality itself: the psalmist’s tree with deep roots planted by the rivers of waters. Poets speak truth.
Blessed is the man
who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,
nor stands in the way of sinners,
nor sits in the seat of scoffers;
but his delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on his law he meditates day and night.
He is like ia tree
planted by streams of water
that yields its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.
In all that he does, he prospers.
The wicked are not so,
but are like chaff that the wind drives away.– Psalm 1, ESV Bible
Say no to Keystone! Say it for the prairie. Say it for water. Say it for yourself. It’s good for big oil. Good for Congressional Representatives and Senators funded by big oil and and big money. Bad for the environment. Bad for national and global policy shift to renewable sources of energy. The Keystone XL lobby is, in the long run, like chaff which the wind drives away. Let the people say, “Amen!”
The First Presbyterian Church
and the Blackstone RangersAll stores and resturants must serve all
after the Civil Rights law passed
in 1964. But real
change comes, that has a chance to last,
as power shifts. Our Church began
to work with gangs to help get blacks
to vote. When Stones said everyone
should register, they did! Then folks
began to see that City Hall
responded to their needs: new trucks
to fix the streets appeared, to haul
away the piles of garbage. Police
still threw around their white might, but
some liberal lawyers, black and white,
were found to fight for the release
of innocent poor folks. Some peace
between gangs even came at night…The Reverend John Fry, ex-Marine,
on Sunday could inspire wood pews
to organize for holy fights.
On Monday words that were not clean
scorched any sinners who refused
to honor all black civil rights.– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, Jan. 26, 2015
NOTE: This is a memoir of Steve’s years at McCormick Theological Seminary in Chicago when Steve and Nadja Shoemaker sat in the inspired wood pews listening to the Rev. Dr. John Fry’s preaching at First Presbyterian Church. Click HERE for information on the Reverend John Fry, First Presbyterian Church of Chicago, the Blackstone Rangers, and the Chicago Police Department. John Fry was an inspiration to us at McCormick, a bold preacher in the social gospel tradition who put his life where his mouth was.
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)
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”.
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
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.
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.
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.
Read more: Kurumba tribe
Nominate your favorite photoblogs for the Fifteenth Annual Weblog Awards: The 2015 Bloggies http://2015.bloggi.es/#photography
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
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.
Views from the Edge 