Thank you for this thoughtful and thought-provoking essay, Jonathan.
In poking around on the internet, I found a story by Ed Cohen, "One Lake or Two," Notre Dame Magazine, Autumn 2004. Cohen says the property was originally called Sainte-Marie-des-Lacs (Saint Mary of the Lakes). There were two lakes, separated by marshland, but it might have looked like one at the time of year when Father Sorin founded his "University," as he envisioned it would become. Also, I found two other schools with similar names: Baton Rouge's "Our Lady of the Lake College" (founded 1921) changed its name to "Franciscan Missionaries of Our Lady University" a few years back, and San Antonio (founded 1895) is home to "Our Lady of the Lake University" (also formerly a college). They each have a lake as well. It's interesting how things come to be named.
It is interesting indeed! There are many places named for Our Lady of the Lake. The oldest such dedication I have been able to find belongs to a church in Provence, from the 12th century I think. I have to say I love the titles of Our Lady. Our Lady of the Snows might be my favorite, what with my inclination to northernness. I also love Our Lady of Good Voyage. At Orison we are preparing to publish a wonderful novel called The Lady of Good Voyage. In Gloucester, MA there is a church that has long attracted my attention (and may appear in the novel I'm now reworking), called Our Lady of Good Voyage, modeled on a church of the same dedication in the Azores. I think I was first alerted to its existence (that is, the one in Gloucester) by reading Charles Olson's Maximus Poems. I've been intrigued and enchanted by the place ever since.
Despite my preference for the terminology of "Our Lady," my life has had much to do with two churches called "Old Saint Mary's." German immigrants to this country seem to have been fond of first building a Marienkirche. Then the congregation disperses and some new church dedicated to Mary is built, making the first one the "Old Saint Mary's." I became a Catholic in Old Saint Mary's, Detroit. For many years before that, I was fascinated by Old Saint Mary's in Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine neighborhood, which is one of the most beautiful Catholic churches in North America, in my opinion. That church plays a crucial role in my current novel project.
I guess at the bottom of all of this is my love of Mariology, which is what, to me, distinguishes the Catholic Church from all others. It is not magisterial teaching, but personally I am swayed by her title as co-redemptrix. It seems, to me, to go along perfectly with the dogmatic assertion of the Immaculate Conception and, one remove further out, the Assumption, and it is a consummate expression of the medieval sensibility I have spent so much time studying and admiring.
Thank you for your response, Jonathan. I am not a Catholic personally, but I do respect, and love to learn more, about all that Catholics and Catholicism have contributed, and continue to contribute, to art, culture, theology, and the betterment of humankind generally (both spiritual and temporal).
Also, I'm pretty sure that many of us who read your essay can relate to the experience you've shared of making a crucial decision when you were young that set your feet on a certain course, and wondering, in hindsight, how things might have worked out differently if you/we had taken that other path. Your sharing your story frees others to admit it, though. I'm looking forward to reading more of your writing.
I'm very glad you're benefiting from my writing here, Christina. Thank you for reading. I hope others benefit as well. I'm sort of treading water here, idling while I wait for my nonfiction project to coalesce. More on that soon, when I publish the third part of my "triad" on the new transcendentalism.
And I hope I haven't come off as pushing Catholicism with this post, which is apt to be the "most Catholic" thing I put up here, at least for a while. In fact I have a rather ambivalent relationship to the institution of the Roman Church.
Thank you for this thoughtful and thought-provoking essay, Jonathan.
In poking around on the internet, I found a story by Ed Cohen, "One Lake or Two," Notre Dame Magazine, Autumn 2004. Cohen says the property was originally called Sainte-Marie-des-Lacs (Saint Mary of the Lakes). There were two lakes, separated by marshland, but it might have looked like one at the time of year when Father Sorin founded his "University," as he envisioned it would become. Also, I found two other schools with similar names: Baton Rouge's "Our Lady of the Lake College" (founded 1921) changed its name to "Franciscan Missionaries of Our Lady University" a few years back, and San Antonio (founded 1895) is home to "Our Lady of the Lake University" (also formerly a college). They each have a lake as well. It's interesting how things come to be named.
It is interesting indeed! There are many places named for Our Lady of the Lake. The oldest such dedication I have been able to find belongs to a church in Provence, from the 12th century I think. I have to say I love the titles of Our Lady. Our Lady of the Snows might be my favorite, what with my inclination to northernness. I also love Our Lady of Good Voyage. At Orison we are preparing to publish a wonderful novel called The Lady of Good Voyage. In Gloucester, MA there is a church that has long attracted my attention (and may appear in the novel I'm now reworking), called Our Lady of Good Voyage, modeled on a church of the same dedication in the Azores. I think I was first alerted to its existence (that is, the one in Gloucester) by reading Charles Olson's Maximus Poems. I've been intrigued and enchanted by the place ever since.
Despite my preference for the terminology of "Our Lady," my life has had much to do with two churches called "Old Saint Mary's." German immigrants to this country seem to have been fond of first building a Marienkirche. Then the congregation disperses and some new church dedicated to Mary is built, making the first one the "Old Saint Mary's." I became a Catholic in Old Saint Mary's, Detroit. For many years before that, I was fascinated by Old Saint Mary's in Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine neighborhood, which is one of the most beautiful Catholic churches in North America, in my opinion. That church plays a crucial role in my current novel project.
I guess at the bottom of all of this is my love of Mariology, which is what, to me, distinguishes the Catholic Church from all others. It is not magisterial teaching, but personally I am swayed by her title as co-redemptrix. It seems, to me, to go along perfectly with the dogmatic assertion of the Immaculate Conception and, one remove further out, the Assumption, and it is a consummate expression of the medieval sensibility I have spent so much time studying and admiring.
Thank you for your response, Jonathan. I am not a Catholic personally, but I do respect, and love to learn more, about all that Catholics and Catholicism have contributed, and continue to contribute, to art, culture, theology, and the betterment of humankind generally (both spiritual and temporal).
Also, I'm pretty sure that many of us who read your essay can relate to the experience you've shared of making a crucial decision when you were young that set your feet on a certain course, and wondering, in hindsight, how things might have worked out differently if you/we had taken that other path. Your sharing your story frees others to admit it, though. I'm looking forward to reading more of your writing.
I'm very glad you're benefiting from my writing here, Christina. Thank you for reading. I hope others benefit as well. I'm sort of treading water here, idling while I wait for my nonfiction project to coalesce. More on that soon, when I publish the third part of my "triad" on the new transcendentalism.
And I hope I haven't come off as pushing Catholicism with this post, which is apt to be the "most Catholic" thing I put up here, at least for a while. In fact I have a rather ambivalent relationship to the institution of the Roman Church.