Change
We have maybe 100 years of existence and legacy.
Mårup Kirke1 is a small church outside of the town of Lønstrup on the far northwest coast of Denmark overlooking the North Sea. Since 1250 until 2008, it sat silently weathering the winds of northern Denmark and defying the erosion of the North Sea.
In 1808, a British frigate on its way from England to Gothenburg, Sweden sank in the North Sea off the coast of Denmark. The people of the parish buried the dead in a common grave next to Mårup Kirke.
Today, you can stand on the edge of the graveyard overlooking the North Sea — which used to be its center — lean over the edge, look at the face of the cliff and see bones sticking out.
I was last at Mårup Kirke in July 2007 with my good friend Peter. It would be my last opportunity to visit the church before the kommune started dismantling it and putting it in storage. Like any good American, I remarked that it was sad that the cliffs were eroding, the church would not be there for future generations and the stories of the men buried there would just be washed out to sea.
And like any good Dane, he just shrugged and said, “Well, the coast is eroding here on the west, but it’s building up in the east. Pretty soon, we’ll be able to walk to Sweden.”
If you like this post, imagine being able to read a carefully curated collection of my essays from Substack, Medium and other places, uninterrupted by the algorithm and any FOMO notifications beeping at you. Yes, I’m talking about a print book that fits into a pocket or bag — it’s small and sorta cute. If I planned this better, I could have told you it also fits neatly in a Christmas stocking, but I didn’t. This essay is number 18 in my second “legacy” book. I’m telling you this for no particular reason.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mårup_Church
Sailors say prayers - even the atheists - on the open sea, knowing they are gamblers betting against the house.
How cleanly you mourned the passing of a place where once people walked and died..truly as an American.
But Europeans were raised walking on centuries old graves - taught that one thing followed another, curious as to what might come next but knowing nothing is lost.
Beautiful writing.