South Haven 2018

We had our South Haven week early this year taking advantage of pre-Memorial day rates.  Jim can enjoy golf without crowds and we don't need to swim in the cold Lake Michigan.  Our first three days were cold--highs in the low 50s--but the last three days have been glorious.

We ate in restaurants twice--Clementines on a Monday when there were none of the usual long lines--and Hawkshead Inn after the traditional annual golf match for Jim and brother-in-law John.  We ordered take-out pizza once from Maria's this year because The Vineyard was closed.  Over the years we have seen many restaurants close and new ones open.  Apparently there will soon be a new wine shop and a new brewery.  It's sad in a way to see South Haven go more upscale over the years.

I've read two books and am well into two others.  Jim has worked on his index of names for his Jubilees commentary.  My sister Lois and I shopped at the lovely Janny's Beach House.  I purchased a top for me and a birthday gift for her.  We have watched NBA playoffs in the evening. I have had a couple of good bike rides.  Jim has played 45 holes of golf.

 Our new adventure was using the tickets Jim's eye doctor gave him for the Senior PGA tournament at Harbor Shores Golf Course.  We parked in a free public lot, took a free shuttle to the course, and walked nine holes along with golfers Pate, Mize and Kite--three gentleman whose names Jim knew and had won major tournaments in years past.  Jim was in awe of their beautiful drives and fairway shots.  It was a lot of walking on a very sunny day.  We both got sunburned.  The $5 lemonade I bought was worth every penny.

I learned a  new South Haven story when I stopped on a bike ride to rest and asked a gardener about her home.  Yes, it was old--built in 1890--as a hotel on Baseline Road, the border between Van Buren and Allegan Counties.   Van Buren was dry but the hotel bar was open for anyone who wanted a drink.  I can add that story to the ones we remember from other years-like the tombstone I found that read that someone was "finer than a frog's ear" or the boat fire we saw last fall.

We can't think of any other place we'd rather vacation than this little town on Lake Michigan where walking is easy and convenient and the sunsets are wonderful and different each night.

Our Church Family

We live so far away from our children and grandchildren.  Many friends our age have retired and moved away--often to be nearer their own children and grandchildren. Our church family has become a place for multi-generational friendships for which we are grateful.

The Baxter-Banga family has included us for Easter dinners.  There are often more than 30 people there with David providing the main course of meat and everyone else bringing side dishes and dessert.  I always hope there will be some little ones to help me make my bunny cake.

Saturday we were invited to a 10 year old's birthday party at The Ice Box where he plays hockey.  There were several families from our church there.  I watched for a while and then decided that with the help of a "walker," I too could skate.  So I did--twice around.

Saturday evening I was asked to join a group of women from church to go out for dinner and then to a movie.  We had a table of 14 at a crowded and noisy Evil Czech Brewery.  I was the only white-haired woman there and at least 25 years older than anyone else and probably 35-40 than most.  I was honored to be included!

Our church is so small that we know everyone there--at  least by name--and probably much more than that.  When someone new comes in, we know to welcome them. When folks are missing, we wonder why--or often, we know why.  We share each other's joys, but also each other's sorrows.

Routines

Last night I told Jim that I looked forward to our Sunday morning breakfast--a boiled egg, a sweet, maybe some fruit, and of course, strong coffee.  We always say the Lord's Prayer together on Sunday mornings. We like our routines in our retirement.

We have other routines that center around food.  Saturday mornings are pancake mornings and we have recently started enjoying a cooked breakfast on Thursday mornings when I usually have no obligations.  We have a happy hour around 5:15 which lately has been orange juice with a cucumber slice for me--so I can have my one glass of wine with dinner.

Most of my activities are in the morning when Jim is home doing his research on RH Charles or proofreading his Jubilees commentary.  We eat lunch together even if we prepare it separately and then Jim goes into Notre Dame to work at his office.  He is very pleased to learn that he can keep that office next year.  He hopes.  Last year that all fell apart temporarily with a move downstairs and then back upstairs at Malloy Hall.  In the next two weeks he has three mid-course reviews and two dinners so there continue to be obligations.

We have exercise routines. I do back exercises every week day while watching the morning news.  That routine has changed somewhat; I am boycotting WSBT because of its Sinclair ownership and its required reading of their denunciation of "fake news."  I try to walk 30 minutes a day as recorded by my Fitbit.  Jim walks from the Bulla parking lot, a long way from his office.  He faithfully does the exercises prescribed by Kelly Penrose, our physical therapist.

So are we "set in our ways" like the old folks?  Or are routines a good thing?  When I sleep well and feel well, I get restless and want to break up my routines with a trip somewhere.  Maybe this week it will be South Haven for a night.  Maybe it will be a train trip to Chicago soon.  And maybe I'll just be content to stay home.

----------We did spend a night at Old Harbor Inn in South Haven.  Jim golfed at Hawkshead and we had supper with Harvey and Audrey Stob at Black River Grill--because Clementine's--even on a Wednesday in April--had an hour wait.  But we got out of our routines.  We both forgot our phone chargers; we both forgot to take our AM drugs or drops, and Jim actually forgot to bring his 30 minutes of Hebrew reading along.  We were home again by 10:30 am and back on track.

Good Friday

For the last several years I have disciplined myself to read an entire gospel on Good Friday.  I broke that tradition this year and read Romans instead.  We had studied Romans in our Women's Bible Study at church and it seemed so fragmented.  So today I sat with the Oxford English Bible and read the epistle in two sections while occasionally highlighting something in my New Revised Standard Version.  It was a good exercise.  It made it seem more like a letter with Paul's personality and concerns and love for his God and the Romans coming through.

As always, I had questions for Jim.  What was the Greek word for "grace" in Romans 4:16?  Was it "sheer grace" as the Oxford translator put it?  No, it wasn't.  That was the translator's interpretation.  And what about the idea of "in Adam we all die but in Christ we are made alive?" (Romans 5 and the Messiah libretto!)  That is mostly Paul's idea and not expressed elsewhere.  Yes, I am always questioning!

Romans was not the gospel story but it was the gospel--"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." "Who is to condemn?  It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us."


I thought there was going to be a violin-organ performance for Holy Week at the Sacred Heart Basilica at noon today but I was wrong.  I have to learn to read carefully--it was on Wednesday.  So I sat quietly in the basilica and prayed for a while.  Many others were doing the same and even more were lined up on either side to make their confessions. It was a little glimpse into another tradition.

We had our own church's traditional Good Friday service tonight.  I had the joy of being in the congregation and having no responsibilities except to enter into worship.  I felt such a sense of fellowship and unity with our church family as I listened to each reader and I thought how they were people I knew and loved.  We sang beautiful songs and I prayed that it would be true in the words of "O Sacred Head Now Wounded" that I would "never, ever outlive my love for thee."  Our preacher gave a powerful message on the servant passage in Isaiah.  The candles were dimmed one by one and with the last one the strepitus ended in a loud crash. We entered the sanctuary in silence on Good Friday and we left in silence.

Tomorrow it's Holy Saturday.  Two young boys will be baptized with all of us surrounding them at the font.  Jim will be one of the readers. I have to play a few hymns at the organ but that is not enough to cause me any stress--I hope.

Easter Egg fruit plate!

I have played for many Easter services but this year my only responsibility is to sing with the choir.  We'll have a big Easter dinner at friends--with maybe 20 of us eating and taking a long walk afterwards. I miss my children and grandchildren for the holidays.  But I have been told that a few of the young ones at our dinner are counting on Grandma Mary's bunny cake which they will decorate with jelly beans.  I am grateful for a church family when our own is far away.

Mary, Be Positive!

"Mary, be positive." This was Jim's text to me after I sent him an adorable photo message of A and his friend holding hands on a play date.  I laughed and then had the sobering thought that I would have to live a very long time to see A holding hands with his bride walking down the aisle. 25 years? Age 97?  Probably not.  And if I am living, could I get to his wedding?  Probably not.  I'm not being negative, just realistic.

Following that interchange, I got the mail and received the information I had requested from Cedar Grove Cemetery at Notre Dame.  When we were in North Carolina, I said I was happy to live there but did not want to be buried there.  I didn't really consider myself a Tarheel!  But I don't think of myself as a Hoosier either.  And we certainly have very few ties to the Hudsonville, Michigan area where we met and where my parents are buried.  No place seems right for our final resting place!

I am getting more comfortable with the idea of cremation.  While walking with a friend at Cedar Grove Cemetery, I noticed that Catholics accept cremation but only if the remains are kept in one place--not scattered somewhere with an implied denial of the resurrection of the body.   Could this be an option for Jim and me?  No matter where we are when we die, it would be easy enough to ship the remains here and have a place for them.  At least there would be a place that could be photographed even if no one would be here to visit it.  There may even be a virtual reality tour.

And then to add to these reminders of mortality today, St. John's Abbey sent their Holy Week greetings including a Youtube video "I Can Only Imagine"--supposedly the best-selling Christian single every written.  I had never heard of it before but I listened and in some way, it gave my cynical self a glimpse of future glory.

We have a friend who has just asked Hospice to help him be more comfortable.  We have another friend who has begun receiving chemotherapy for pancreatic cancer.  We have lost a young friend to a heart attack this year.  Another friend is recovering from the effects of a serious stroke.  Jim's brother Hank is gone.  We are not young even if we feel strong and sometimes even youthful!  So it may be good to think on these things.  We will take a walk at Cedar Grove together soon and then decide if that is right for us.

Notre Dame Historians and the VKs

In the last few weeks we have attended two events hosted by historians at Notre Dame.  The first one was a workshop funded by an NEH grant in which Abram Van Engen, a professor at Washington University in St. Louis, presented a chapter of his forthcoming book The City on a Hill.  Abram invited us to attend and we were honored to accept.

 The room in the new Duncan Student Center was full of faculty and graduate students.  Abram presented briefly followed by two assigned respondents.  I enjoyed the time for questions and comments from the group.  There were many affirmations for Abram's work along with specific suggestions of things he could pursue.   The entire session was an example of academic cooperation.  Plus it was so much fun to see a handsome and appreciative Professor Van Engen in his grown up role--the fellow we have known since he was a pre-teen at our church.

Yesterday was our second event for historians--a conference in honor of Mark Noll hosted by two of his graduate students at Notre Dame.  One of the conveners, Jonathan Riddle, is a good friend of ours and welcomed our participation at the lunch and dinner events when Mark was speaking.  It was an occasion for us to greet not only Mark and Maggie, but also other friends who have left the area--George and Lucie Marsden and Julie and Nathan Hatch.

The Morris Inn put on two wonderful buffets with attractive and delicious entrees of a more unusual sort--polenta with vegetables,  orzo with mushrooms, a lasagna with a pesto sauce, and salmon and chicken dishes.  It was fun to try a little of each!   We were able to eat with friends (Judy and David Hatch--also non-historians but friends of M and M)  and enjoy good conversations and many laughs.

After lunch, John Wilson, former editor of the now defunct Books and Culture, interviewed Mark about various books he had reviewed or blurbed and others he had written over the years.  At one point Mark asked the audience how many had ever written for the journal--and I would guess 50 hands were raised.  I need to follow up on authors that were mentioned--especially those who wrote on world Christianity, a particular interest of Mark's.

A very touching moment at the evening banquet was when Dean John McGreevy remembered that the conference was postponed last March because of Maggie's stroke.  A year later Maggie was there looking lovely and well and able to greet many old friends.  The group began applauding and there was a standing ovation for Maggie.  It was a beautiful moment to have a tribute for her as well as Mark.

Mark spoke of the importance of Maggie's support at home and her work as a research assistant for him.  The theme for his remarks was being disqualified for military duty in the 1970s as a 1Y but not being designated as a 4F.  He went on to give his own 4F list of appreciation for family, friends, faculty, and formation,  a chance to tell stories and mention lots of people who had been important to him. He also incorporated counsel for young scholars stressing humility and cooperation.  "The mark of a true scholar is magnanimity as well as expertise" is one example he used after telling an incident of George Marsden's graciousness.

Jim and I are not historians. In some sense, Jim with his work on the Scrolls and now R.H. Charles is a historian  and I guess I have a historian's curiosity which Mark said was basic.  We were honored to be included in these occasions and are thankful for our own friends, young and old,  in these areas.

Lent 2018

A gift left for me at the organ
on Holy Saturday!

Last year I posted "Observing Lent in the Trump Era."  Once again I am taking the attitude of taking on something for Lent and not giving something up.  I joke each year about taking on Cadbury Creme Eggs but I noticed they are 99 cents at CVS so that makes them easier to resist.  Plus I am pretty sure they get smaller every year.

This year I am trying to sing a hymn or two or three each day.  Sundays are a given; the other days I pull out one of my many hymnals and play the piano and sing.  I am not happy with how my voice sounds especially at first.  Aging has affected my vocal range.  The singing posture of sitting down at the piano doesn't help.  And I want to sing when no one else is around--like my dear husband!

Music is important for my faith.  When we sing in church, the words go into my soul and I believe them in a way that I can doubt at other times.  At times this month the words I have sung have really been God's word to me.

"When we seek relief From a long felt grief, When temptations come alluring Make us patient and enduring; Show us that bright shore Where we weep no more.  Jesus, still lead on, Till our rest be won; Heav'nly leader, still direct us, Still support, console, protect us, Till we safely stand In our Father's land."

When I think of how much beautiful music has been inspired by the Christian faith, it makes me trust that it must have a basis in truth.  I feel a part of all those who have gone before and have composed and sung these songs.

I've been singing out of the Lutheran Book of Worship (1979) this week.  So many of the last stanzas seem to end in a hope for a peaceful death like the one quoted above.  Is it a product of the turmoil of Martin Luther's time?  Do Lutherans today still sing those songs regularly?

"Lord, let your presence brighten the night Till the last sunrise; then, in your might, Pardon and spare me, Summon and bear me Homeward at last." 

 Actually that one is from the mid-1800s not Martin Luther's era.   We rarely sing songs like that these days in our worship.  Is it too depressing to sing about our final hours? Maybe when it is time for me, those words will be even more meaningful.  I'd like to think that I could be singing at the end.