Rev. Kathleen Jones' Blog

God gives the growth!

2010-07-13T15:38:00.000-07:00

Last spring I wrote about my first venture into horticulture, actually investing a substantial amount of money into flower beds in front of my house. I was elated at the way they looked in September, and then worried a bit through the winter. And I worried a lot early in the spring when Molly, the neighbor and professional gardener who did the planting, cut everything back. And even as I worried about that, I wrote, "I trust Molly, and I trust God to give the growth."

My trust has been confirmed, of course. I've had a riot of roses ever since, and a beautiful esperanza blooming in gorgeous yellow. The lantana and the plumbago are coming out, and it's all making me so happy.

We've been through several seasons of cutting back in our church life, and that's been hard to do. It's difficult to do everything we want to do, to carry out the ninistries we cherish, with fewer resources of money and people. But I have faith. We are in a new season, and I'm trusting our leaders, with God's help, to guide us into new growth through passionate worship and wise leadership. I'm trusting all of you, with God'shelp, to be radical in your hospitality for newcomers, and extravagantly generous in your giving of time and money and love.

I'm trusting God that our church has not yet seen its brightest vision and most faithful response. If we plant and water, God will give the growth!

New Pastors Come Home!

2010-05-03T13:42:00.000-07:00

When the Reverend Barbara Ruth and the Reverend John Wright move to Austin in June, they will be our new pastors—but not entirely new. For each of them it will be a homecoming of sorts. FUMC has been a spiritual home to each of them for many years.

Barbara Ruth’s first encounter with FUMC came when she was a U.T. student in 1969. A friend who had seen an announcement about a weeknight study group asked Barbara to come with her to what they thought was a Bible Study Class, and that set Barbara on a life-changing journey. In that theology class, led by Tom Watkins, she met a group of young Downtowners, who adopted her as one of their own. She began to learn to “speak Methodist,” and was soon serving as a youth sponsor with the MYF.

When I returned to First Church as Director of Christian Education in the summer of 1970, there was no youth director, and Barbara was a godsend! After some nine months of being stretched beyond my capacity to get everything done, I persuaded our senior pastor to hire Barbara as Youth Director. She stayed on after graduation, working for a meager salary and learning a lot. I don’t remember exactly when, but I do remember the place: on a bus taking youth to Six Flags, I suggested that Barbara think about going to seminary to become a minister. The rest, as they say, is history—at least, it is history for Barbara and John and for the United Methodist Church.

John Wright came to First Church as an intern from Perkins School of Theology in 1975, the same year that Barbara was doing an internship at Wesley United Methodist, in east Austin. John will tell you what an amazing experience that was for him. This brilliant student from a small town in Kentucky found a new world of thinkers and doers in our congregation. His teaching and preaching skills and imaginative worship planning added greatly to our church life, as well as providing him with experience in a broader arena than he had previously known.

Barbara and John were married while they were at Perkins, much to the joy of their First Church friends. Many of us traveled to Dallas to their wedding, and have cherished their friendship through the years. Their appointment is a homecoming for them, and a welcome home from those of us who knew them when they were just beginning their ministries. Each has served on the Conference Board of Ordained Ministry, and left lasting impacts on that group and many others in the Annual Conference. Under their joint leadership, Oak Hill UMC in Austin grew in numbers and in ministry. Next, Barbara was appointed Corpus Christi District Superintendent and John as senior pastor at Grace UMC in Corpus, where he led the church into a major building program involving a long-considered relocation.

First Church can justifiably take pride in our influence on these two pastors, and recall many others whom we have called into ministry and/or trained as they prepared to serve.

Bishop Michael Lowry, pastor of Bethany UMC in Austin during its period of explosive growth, was our first Perkins intern, in 1974. Austin District Superintendent Bobbi Kaye Jones was associate pastor here for ten years. The Reverend David Gilliam, pastor at St. John’s UMC in Austin, came to us as a Perkins intern, and on graduation, returned to the staff as associate pastor, starting our Mind and Spirit program. The Reverend Tom Deviney, pastor of Bethany UMC in Austin, came to First Church on his first appointment after graduation from Iliff School of Theology in Denver. The Reverend Sylvester Chase, pastor at Wesley Methodist Church in Austin, did an internship with us, as did the Reverend Mark Porterfield, pastor at Portland UMC. Another Perkins intern, Susan Daniel from Kansas, initiated the ministry that became Hands-on-Housing while serving here. The Reverends Mel Hazlewood, Jason Teague, and Peter Castles all entered candidacy for ministry from First Church, and got their first preaching experience at our Wednesday evening Chapel services. The Reverends Tina Carter, pastor at Parker Lane UMC in Austin, Valerie Sansing, pastor at Covenant UMC in Austin, the Reverend Patti Herndon, pastor at Mathis, and the Reverend Beverly Schmidt, pastor at St. Paul Methodist Church in El Campo, were with us as interns from Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary. The Reverend Kyle Toomire, who began his candidacy among us while serving as Youth Director, was tapped for special training in new church starts, and is serving as pastor of Journey UMC in Kyle. The Reverend Clifton Stringer, who came to us on his first full-time appointment, has been appointed to Lakehills UMC in the Kerrville District, effective in June.

And the beat goes on! Jen Stuart, Membership Director, and Cathy Stone, Director of Ministries with Youth and Families, both entered candidacy for ordained ministry while serving on our staff. They are attending Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary while continuing to work on church staff.

Clearly, First Church is a teaching and calling congregation. Who knows who else among us may be called to full-time service in the church? We thank God for these who are giving themselves in ordained ministry. As they have blessed us, now they are blessing many others.

It's still Easter!

2010-04-04T17:12:00.000-07:00

I'm writing on Easter Sunday evening--the glorious music, beauty of the Chapel and Sanctuary, the Easter proclamation still fresh in my mind and heart. As John McMullen began his sermon at the 11:00 service, he told the more-than-capacity crowd,already thrilled by the music, "This is the way it is every Sunday."

We all laughed, because we know that a lot of those folks will not be back again for a while--maybe not until next Easter. And that's all right--we wish they come more often, but we are glad to welcome them when they appear.

But Easter goes on--the liturgical season of Easter continues for six more Sundays, as we celebrate resurrection. But we know that Easter is always with us, if we're paying attention, if we're welcoming new life.

On that first Easter morning, Mary Magdalene and the disciples told the others, "We have seen the Lord!" Now, more than twenty centuries later, we, too, have seen the risen Christ. How do we know this? Consider these questions:

Have you experienced forgiveness? Have you been able to forgive someone who hurt you?

Have you failed at something you wanted to do or be, and been able to forgive yourself?

Have you found strength and hope at a time when you were sure you had lost both?

Have you found purpose and challenge and joy in an ordinary day, an ordinary task?

Have you found bread and wine to share with others when you thought you had nothing to offer?

Do you believe that good will ultimately triumph over evil?

If you can answer yes to at least one of those questions, then the Christ of the empty grave has been with you, transforming your life. If you can answer even, I want to forgive myself and others, I want to love life, I want to share and reach out in service to the world, then the risen Christ is with us. You have seen the Lord, whether you recognized him or not.

Christ is risne! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.

Cutting Back

2010-03-15T13:43:00.000-07:00

Last September I did something completely uncharacteristic of my usual frugal self. I spent several hundred dollars on landscaping around the front of my house. (I don’t know if you get to call it “landscaping” when it’s only flower beds, but I will, anyway. I’m very proud of it.) I discovered that the friendly couple down the street who wave and smile when I walk by have their own small business related to gardening and irrigation systems, and I decided to take the plunge. I asked them to plant some flowers and do something to encourage the slowly-dying but stubborn irises that come back year after year. The result was quite amazing and wonderful. I have so enjoyed looking at the mix of roses, lantana, plumbago, yucca, and newly-revitalized irises.

When cold weather came, I worried about the plants, but Molly, the gardener, assured me that they would be all right. And sure enough, the irises began to bloom last week, and there were some rosebuds visible this morning. Before that, though, I was worried. The other plants were bare and straggly and brown, and I wondered if they had really made it. Molly saw me digging up weeds in my front yard Saturday afternoon, and came down with gloves and shears, offering to do some clearing out and cutting back. I had to go back into the house to take care of some things, and left her at her work. When I came back out an hour later, what a change! The spindly, bare branches were all gone, and the plumbago, lantana, and shrimp plants were cut way back. Molly and Jonathan had also weeded the flower beds, and cleaned up the yucca. At that point I remembered the conversations (sometimes arguments) I had heard over the years about cutting back plants. How much? When? I never knew enough to get involved in those exchanges.

Then it came to me that perhaps “cutting back” is an appropriate metaphor for me at this stage of life. Perhaps that’s something we might all think about during Lent. Established habits of thought and patterns of behavior can get dry and barren of meaning, so that occasional gentle pruning or even severe cutting back can help us refocus on what matters most. Giving up things that really aren’t important anymore and making room for new growth is important.

We’re doing some financial cutting back at church, not without pain. Yet I have hope that these cutbacks will help us focus on what is most important, and inspire us to give more for those things. We can trust God to give the growth.

And as to those flower beds, I can hardly wait to see what will come next. Will the plants really come back and bloom? I trust Molly, and I certainly trust God!

Earthquake, malaria, and everyday life

2010-01-24T14:16:00.000-08:00

Brooks Schuelke, intrepid and endlessly resourceful chair of our Social Justice Team, had a busy Sunday morning today. He was designated to present the Ministry Moment—a very brief informational/inspirational talk highlighting one of our church’s many ministries—at three of our Sunday morning worship services, a task that can be accomplished with careful planning and attention to time. Brooks had also been at last Wednesday evening’s Chapel service with his message.
Any Ministry Moment is most effective when it is delivered with conviction, brevity, and just a bit of passion. Brooks brought all those qualities to his testimony about “Imagine No Malaria,” a mission of the United Methodist Church worldwide, in cooperation with an agency of the United Nations and the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. The ambitious goal is to eradicate malaria in sub-Saharan Africa by 2015.
This is a very big deal, and the Austin District was chosen as first to be involved. Several Austin churches have already reached and exceeded their goals.
Brooks began by acknowledging that all of us have felt the desperation of people in Haiti after the very recent earthquake and commending those who have given of their resources to help. Then he went on to tell us that many more die of malaria—a preventabledisease--in Africa every year than have died in the earthquake in Haiti. Our church will focus on Imagine No Malaria in the coming months, with a Sunday in April as our main day of emphasis.

The needs of those suffering these disasters can seem overwhelming! Earthquake, disease, flood, drought, famine, and war disrupt and dominate the lives of people all over the world—far from us in miles, but as close as the pictures on our television sets and computer screens. Meanwhile, our everyday lives go on, largely uninterrupted by major catastrophes. So what are we to do? How much can we give?
I’m pretty sure that most of us can give more than we usually do—more than we think we can. Imagine no malaria! Imagine a rebuilt Haiti, on a firmer footing than that tiny, troubled nation has ever known. Imagine having a part in making those things happen!

There are lots of ways to give to the immediate needs in Haiti, but probably no more efficient, cost-effective way than through UMCOR, the United Methodist Committee on Relief. They are on the scene, delivering direct aid. If you want to contribute, write a check to FUMC, and designate it for UMCOR. In the meantime, watch for more information to come about Imagine No Malaria. And also in the meantime, may our everyday lives go on, with a deepened sense of gratitude to God for all we have.

Keep on singing

2009-12-28T15:32:00.000-08:00

As a person who watches and listens to way too many media newscasts, I've found the last months very difficult. A year ago I was full of hope, believing our nation was on the brink of a new season of comity and cooperation in government and public affairs. Now, in this winter of almost everyone's discontent, I find it hard to be hopeful. Then, as I was looking through my Christmas files, I came across a copy of a poem I received from a friend and brother in ministry, Dr. James Mayfield. Jim came to First Church as a U.T. student in my first year as Director of Youth Ministries, and his friendship and encouragement has been a constant in my life for more than fifty years. He sent this poem as a Christmas greeting in 1998, and I find it speaks to me today. I share it with his permission. It's titled "Joy to the World."

In this time when
words are hurled like spears
to add wound to wound
and pain to pain,
in this time when
the smoldering smog of resentments
and
self-righteous angers
increase the darkness of this winter
we are enduring with profound discontent,
a carol is somewhere sung
and once more
the Word of hope
is flung into the darkness.
The tragic omnipotence of love
begins its work again
as God refuses to give up on us
and
sends to us once more
the angels' song
proclaiming a world-tranforming birth.

I'll keep on singing the carols...will you?

Christmas shopping

2009-11-17T08:10:00.000-08:00

A long time ago we used to say, with some frustration, “It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but the stores have their Christmas decorations up. Now we make that kind of remark (complaint?) about Christmas items for sale even before Halloween. When I recently heard a church member say that he had finished all his Christmas shopping, I was filled with a mixture of awe and envy. I am only at the fretting stage.
And fret I do! I love the Advent-Christmas season! I love planning the music for the services I work with; I even love struggling with the sometimes very peculiar Scriptures selected for Advent; I’m filled with gratitude and wonder at the generosity and resourcefulness of our folks who give so much and do so much to make the Christmas season joyful for those who have little. But I fret about gifts. Even when I’m shopping for an unknown child or mom in a family my Reunion Group will sponsor through Any Baby Can, I fret—even agonize—about what to choose. I’m pretty sure I will choose the wrong thing, and can only hope that my selection will be useful, if not loved.

Shopping for family members got easier for me some years ago with the introduction of the Alternative Gift Market in our church. I select gifts that match their interests or situations—educational materials for the teachers and former teachers, farming help for the brother who grew up on the farm and still loves the land, business support for women for my feminist sisters (of both blood and friendship). Each year there’s an array of choices in these categories and others to suit our interests. One year James and Susannah put their resources together in one giant gift, and gave the family a water buffalo. We think about him (her?) often, and wonder about the family and village that large creature has blessed.

This Sunday (and probably again on December6--I always forget someone the first time--I'll go shopping at the Market and choose lots of gifts. But then I’ll still do some shopping for my immediate family, not without fretting. And I’ll tell myself, as I always do, that even though choosing gifts is not my best thing, all my offerings will be received with love and good humor. I trust those who receive them to know that my gifts are representative of the giver—far from perfect, but full of love.

Has God changed?

2009-10-21T08:24:00.000-07:00

That question has been addressed by people far wiser and more learned than I. Books on the so-called evolution of God have been popular. The question came back to me in recent sessions of our Disciple Bible Study class. We’re in the early Old Testament—a part of the Bible I dearly love, and feel very passionate about teaching. There are some wonderful and terrible stories about the people of Israel and their God.

The wonderful stories describe God’s love and care for the people, shown in God’s mighty acts of creation and deliverance from slavery, among others. There are some terrible stories in which God commands the people to kill thousands of people--or so they think. And there are some really funny stories in which faithful men (Abraham and Moses) argue with God, finally cajoling the deity into doing the right thing.

People talk about “the Old Testament God” as if that one were a mean, ruthless old man, full of wrath; and the “New Testament God” as one who is loving, forgiving, accepting, and gracious. Sounds as if God evolved and got nicer over the centuries.
I propose that people evolved and got nicer and wiser over the centuries. Primitive people had a primitive understanding of God. As time passed, they learned from their experiences and from prophets and others who had learned to listen to the leading of the Spirit. They began to understand that God was the God of all people, with love enough for everyone in the world, whether or not they knew the right name and the right way to worship. In Jesus we can see the one whose life showed the fullness of God. Jesus showed us that God wanted us to love our enemies, not kill them.

Has God changed? No. Have people changed? Yes—but not enough. There are still places where people want to kill everyone who is not like them. There are places where there is prejudice and discrimination and hatred among people because of differences. We don’t make graven images anymore, but we do have a tendency to make God in their own image, rather than being willing to grow into the image of the God who made them. We tend to look for a God who approves of us and our way of doing things. We have some more evolving to do!

2009-09-17T13:04:00.000-07:00

Remembering Ireta

First Church lost a dear and devoted friend when Ireta Kellberg died on September 5, after a courageous struggle with cancer. She served as our Financial Secretary for more than twenty-five years, always giving her very best.

In Ireta, the church got more much than a competent worker—we got a wonderful friend. Her job as financial secretary was all about numbers and dollars and cents, but her ministry was all about loving people. There was a whole cadre of church members—mostly retired gentlemen—who made it a point to bring their contributions to the church office personally every week. They could have put their offering envelopes into the plate on Sunday, but they came in person, so they could have a visit with Ireta. She made their gifts important, and she made them feel important and loved. And she managed not to make me feel stupid when, time and again, I would be late with information she needed, or when she have to explain for the umpteenth time how some fund worked, or help me think of the name of some long-time member whose identity had left my memory bank.

If you’ve been around the church any time at all, you know that our staff operates like a family. We are a family. We don’t always get along perfectly…we know each other’s flaws and peculiarities…we occasionally pick at each other….But we are family, and we love each other. We love each other, we loved Ireta, and she loved us.

In the staff family, she was like the big sister who sometimes lost patience with the little brother (this would be the youth director—it’s always the youth director!) who habitually overspent the budget and failed to turn in credit card receipts in timely fashion, but who would always be forgiven and restored to favor. She was like the aunt who would appear with wonderful gifts at the birth of a baby or a wedding or a birthday, the one who kept up with family members after they left the nest, and like the niece who kept up with the old ones and made sure they were still remembered and included in celebrations. She was the mom whom we could count on to come up with all our favorite foods for staff celebrations. She was the grandmother who cherished every child—staff or member— who came through the office. The doll clothes she made for Hannah Son are collector’s items! The Beanie Babies she sent to Russia with our mission team are being loved by dozens of children. For years, when her own grandchildren were little, packages of books, crafts, toys, dolls, whatever, would be delivered to the office several times a week—Ireta was the catalogue dealers’ best friend. The treasures she brought to the staff Christmas parties for our gift exchanges were always the ones most wanted, most often taken from the current lucky possessor. She instinctively knew what was just the right gift for every occasion…or for no occasion at all.

Ireta lived largely and generously, and made us all happier and richer for it. She gave us much more than each day’s work—she gave us her love, and among the many gifts, perhaps the best was Tami, a fearful and wonderful gift!

Our church family changed when Ireta retired from the staff, and of course, life has changed even more for her closer family. But Ireta leaves her imprint on all of us. We will remember! We will tell stories, and we will weep a little, and laugh a lot….and most of all, give thanks to God for our dear friend, Ireta.

Vacationn Anxiety

2009-08-07T09:48:00.000-07:00

Vacation Anxiety
On Monday I’ll be leaving town for five days of vacation in Colorado. I’m spending the time with seven of my dearest friends in the world, so I know it will be a great time. We’ve been talking about a road trip for years, and this one (partly by air!) will be wonderful! And yet, I’m feeling stressed as I think about it. I’ve had very little to do for preparation (these friends always take care of me), so why am I stressed? I just need to pack my suitcase, have one more chat with the cat-caretaker, confirm my transportation to the airport, and I’ll be ready. But I’m feeling anxious, full of “what ifs”.

What if my family needs me? What if somebody in the church needs me? What if I get sick? What if the cat gets sick? What if the cat-caretaker forgets to come? What if the air-conditioning goes out? What if it rains and I miss it? (That would be great, actually!)

All those “what ifs” remind me of Martha of Bethany—the one to whom Jesus said, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious about many things.” Then he went on to say that her sister Mary, who was just hanging around, listening to him talk, had chosen “the better part.” I’ve always felt sorry for Martha—after all, she was getting dinner ready for Jesus and the disciples, a perfectly reasonable task. But I think Jesus was commenting not on what she was doing, but her anxiety, which was colored with some resentment of her sister’s behavior.

I tend to be a lot like Martha, but am trying to develop the Mary in me, as well. So once I get on the plane (maybe even in the taxi!) I’m going to leave Martha behind. If someone needs me, they’ll figure out how to get what they need from someone else, or if it’s a desperate need, they’ll find me. If something goes wrong at home, it will be dealt with.

Life is full of “what ifs”, but the person of faith will not live among them. Vacation is a gift, and I’m going to receive it joyfully, and leave my anxiety at home. Vacation, with all its anticipated joy, is a gift, and I’m going to receive it joyfully. I’ll have some stories to share when I get back!

A confession

2009-07-20T11:51:00.000-07:00

When the light isn’t just right…when there’s not quite enough…or even when there’s a lot of it, but in the wrong place, I cannot see faces and objects clearly. I notice it every Sunday in the foyer and at the back of the Sanctuary. I can’t see your faces clearly enough to recognize you until I am very close to you.

That’s a confession that’s not easy to make. As I have gotten older, I have continued to enjoy good health. My plan has always been to be as active today as I was yesterday, and as active tomorrow as I am today…on and on, into an indefinite future when I will suddenly, painlessly drop dead, causing no trouble to anyone.

But there has been a glitch in my plan. Age-related macular degeneration, known familiarly as ARMD by a surprisingly large number of people, has impaired my vision. When I was diagnosed with the early stage (dry) some eight or ten years ago, I was told that I would have no vision problems unless it became wet. I cheerfully assumed that my good attitude and habits would protect me and my very valuable eyesight. I was also told that there was really nothing that could be done to treat the condition. But eventually my left eye betrayed me, and I lost most of the central vision it provided. All was not lost, however, because in the intervening years, all kinds of treatments have been developed. I have had a number of injections (yes, with a tiny needle carrying lovely medication right into my eye), followed by laser treatments, so the vision I have is holding. However, my situation is further complicated by a cataract that doctors are reluctant to remove, not wanting to risk any further damage to that eye.

I can still drive (although I stay off unfamiliar expressways and am selective about night driving); I can still read almost anything with my drugstore reading glasses; I can still see almost everything. But if I occasionally look blank or uncertain when I see you, please remember I’m just trying to figure out who you are.

Every day I thank God for the blessing of researchers and medical practitioners who are saving my vision…as I thank God for the gift of sight. Now, if I could just get my spiritual vision to improve….

Pastors and Politics

2009-07-01T11:27:00.000-07:00

A couple of “asides” in a recent sermon of mine were upsetting to at least one hearer. (Others may have been upset, but did not tell me.) Our exchange after the service was respectful on both sides, and neither of us changed our minds. It’s not important to go into the specific issue, but the incident made me think again about the awesome task and privilege of preaching.

At First Church, we pastors customarily use one of the texts in the Revised Common Lectionary, a three-year schedule of Scripture passages that takes us through large parts of the Bible. On most Sundays, there are readings from the Old Testament, a Psalm, the New Testament (Acts or one of the epistles), and a Gospel. After some thought, study, and prayer, we usually focus on one of the selections and do our best to explore its meaning—in its own time, and for today.

Karl Barth, the great 20th century theologian, said that the faithful preacher should prepare a sermon with the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other. Because I love the historical study of the Bible, that part is easiest for me. I have to watch myself about sermon space, so that I don’t go on and on with the Bible background I so enjoy exploring, telling people more than they care to know about why the passage was written, in what situation, for whom, and more. I have to remind myself of the second part of Barth’s injunction—the newspaper, the context of current events—in the world and in the lives of the people in our congregation. I believe that people are hoping to hear something that is relevant to their lives this very week, and I try hard to make the connection between the ancient words and our current situation. I’m often surprised and grateful at how easy that is. Much of the Bible is truly timeless. Although our situation is vastly different from that of people of Bible times, we can see clearly that they dealt with the same human emotions we experience.

I do not believe a pastor should ever abuse the power and privilege of preaching by letting partisan politics intrude. But the Bible is full of exhortations and instructions about how people are to live together in community. The Bible speaks on war and peace, on justice and mercy, on taking care of those among us who cannot care for themselves, on the need for ethical, trustworthy leaders. In today’s world, these are often political as well as moral issues.

So what’s a preacher to do? I can only end where I begin. I start with Scripture. I read and think and study and pray…and in my small congregations, I see many of your faces before me as I do that. And then, with fear and trembling, I write and I speak. They’re not God’s words—far from it!—but they’re the best I can do, week by week.

A preacher friend of mine, when asked his political leaning by a new congregation, replied, “I’m neither Democratic nor Republican—I’m Biblical.” That’s what I strive to be, in great confidence that the Bible speaks to us today.

Practitioners

2009-06-01T12:15:00.000-07:00

Angela Melville recently forwarded to me a journal entry from a cousin, Berry Simpson. As I read it, I experienced one of those “I wish I’d said that!” moments. Parenhetically, I will add that these days I spend less time wishing I had said whatever it is, and more time simply being grateful that someone said it for me. I am very grateful to this journal-writer, and am quoting him with his permission.

Simpson wrote about listening to an NPR Weekend Edition interview with Stuart Davis, musician, writer, and comic. He recalled that Davis described himself as a Buddhist practitioner, adding, “I have followed that path for 15 years.” I heard the same interview, but missed the implication of the word, “practitioner.” Simpson got it and reflected on it. He wrote: “I wondered why we don’t use language like that about following Jesus. Why don’t I say ‘I am a Christian practitioner—I have been following the path of Jesus for 45 years’? I am comfortable to say, I believe in Jesus; why is it uncomfortable to say, I practice Jesus?”

I have said to a number of people that there are few things I regret about the process of aging—only my diminished eyesight, and before that, my ability to sing pleasantly and happily. When I mentioned the latter loss to a person who knows something about singing, the question came back: “When do you sing? How much do you sing? Do you practice?”

Oops…no good answers. Once my preaching schedule took me out of the Sanctuary Choir, I stopped singing except during worship services. I do not practice. At first I didn’t realize how the weekly choir rehearsal kept me in good voice. After a year or two, however, I realized that the time for me to sing solos was past. I thought about practicing at home, but found that I felt a little silly trying to vocalize alone. And now, sadly, I often do not like the sound of my own singing voice. I wonder how it would be if I had practiced.

Being a practitioner of medicine, the field in which we most often use that word, requires extensive training and on-the-job experience. Those who leave the field for even a short time say it takes real effort to catch up when they return. Better to keep at it!

Being a Christian takes practice. Better to keep at it! Being a Christian means practicing the presence of God through prayer, meditation, study, worship, and action. Not everyone needs exactly the same combination—our prescriptions will vary, depending on our spiritual type, situation, and time of life. And in this community of practitioners, you can get a lot of help finding your way and support for your practice.

That’s the way it is for me with singing—I don’t sound the way I used to, but when I sing with you at church, it’s not so bad. Maybe I’ll practice at home, imagining that you are with me. In music, as in Christian prayer, study, worship, and action—perhaps even meditation—there is great support in having others with us as we practice. We can help each other be practitioners of the Christian faith, following that path together.

Simpson’s journal entry cites an encounter between Jesus and Peter. He writes: “In a well-known Bible story, Jesus asked Peter, one of his closest friends and disciples, “Do you love me?” following with the specific command, “Feed my sheep.” (John 21:15-17) In other words, don’t just say you love me, do something about it. Don’t just love, act. In other words, be a practitioner.”

Thanks, Berry Simpson, for inspiring me to practice!

Listening when we can't see!

2009-04-29T09:53:00.000-07:00

There I was, at the corner of 45th St. and Lamar Blvd., waiting for a bus. And it was hot—92 degrees hot! When I decided to make the trip by bus and on foot, instead of enlisting a driver, it was still mild spring weather, and I was planning to enjoy the walk along Lamar and through Central Park over to 38th Street. But the weather didn’t cooperate. That afternoon, spring seemed to be over, and summer was upon us. I was standing in the sun, squinting through two layers of dark glasses, trying to see, in the steady stream of traffic, if a bus was coming, when I heard a voice calling my name: “Kath-a-leen, do you want a ride?”

I had been to see Dr. Dooner, my retina specialist, and had had all sorts of things involving bright lights and medications done to my eyes. I couldn’t see who it was that was calling to me; I couldn’t recognize the car, on the inside lane, well away from the curb. But the voice sounded familiar, and even though I couldn’t think who it belonged to, even though I couldn’t see who it was, I followed the voice across the outside lane of cars to the one carrying my rescuer. In the act of opening the car door, I was beginning to explain, “I can’t see—I don’t know who it is,” as the driver said, “It’s David—from church.” I’m pretty sure I recognized him before I actually got into the car. He interrupted the errand he was doing to drive me home, several miles out of his way. And of course he told the story when he got back to the church, so I have taken a fair amount of teasing about standing on street corners waiting to be picked up by strange men.

Before I go any further, let me say that you must never ever get into a car with a strange person (except possibly prearranged cab or limousine drivers, etc.). People used to do that in the olden days, but it’s not safe anymore. Do not get in a strange car with a stranger. The thing that made it safe for me was that I recognized the voice. Even though I couldn’t think who it was, at first, I knew the voice belonged to someone I could trust.

Gerald Borchert, a Bible scholar who lived for a time in Israel, learned about how sheep learn to recognize the voice of their shepherd. He describes two incidents illustrating this. In the first, he watched a shepherd lead his sheep through the busy traffic in Jerusalem, singing and whistling to keep the sheep together in the midst of many distractions. In the second, he was in a village where four shepherds shared a sheepfold—the enclosure where the sheep were taken in the evening, after a day of grazing. In the morning, each shepherd in turn would sing and call his sheep, who, he said, “dutifully separated from the larger flock and began to follow him to the hills for their daylight feeding.” The sheep knew the shepherd’s voice, and they trusted the bearer of that voice to keep them safe in the midst of traffic, and to lead them to a safe place for grazing.

There are lots of voices that come to us—and at us—every day. Some are from the media, relentlessly urging us to buy, to go, to do, to believe what they are saying. Some are from people we know and love or tolerate or don’t love at all; some are from our own critical selves. They bombard us with messages, many of which are not helpful.

In the midst of all the voices, how good it is to hear one saying, “I know you…I love you…follow me.” That is the voice of the Good Shepherd, the one who wants to get us out the heat of too much of everything, and into the place of green pastures and cool water. When you can't see exactly where you're going or what you need to do(and even when you can!), listen for that voice, and trust it! It will lead you to the place you’re supposed to be.

2009-03-23T09:25:00.000-07:00

Wal-Mart (and other) ministries

The folks at Wal-Mart international headquarters probably don’t know it, but one of their stores in Austin is the site of a significant ministry. Robbie Youngblood may be retired from our staff, but not from ministry. After all, she is only 88 years old, and still has much to do. Several times a week she goes to the Wal-Mart near her south Austin home to do her walking. If you know Robbie, you will not be surprised to know that of course she has made friends there among the employees. She knows their birthdays and sends cards. She takes treats to them for special holidays. She knows when family members are sick or in trouble, and always prays for them. And of course, they always exchange hugs. In a recent e-mail, she described sharing a thought from a Lenten devotional that Martha Stuber, our wonderful volunteer HomeCare coordinator, had given her. The devotional challenges readers to find six words to summarize their lives. Robbie shared her six words with her friends there at Wal-Mart and asked them to think about theirs and share them with her on her next visit. Robbie finds a ministry wherever she goes!.

Last week, while having lunch with friends at the International House of Pancakes (another exotic place), a church member came in with five or six young people. As they passed by our booth, she greeted us, saying she was having fun with some of her friends. I’m guessing she was giving those a special treat during their spring break—they all looked very happy.

I can’t even imagine how many other church members are engaged in ministries of love and service in our community, but I’m sure they number in the hundreds, if not more. Some are attached to community organizations, but no doubt many of them are your very own. I’d love to know about them—people who drive for Meals on Wheels or Austin Caregivers, those who serve as mentors or tutors in public schools, who volunteer at hospitals, or who simply are intentional about being present to people around them, like Robbie. Some of you haven’t even realized that what you are doing is ministry.

It would be great to read about your ministry in the comments section that follows—you don’t have to sign your name if you’d rather remain anonymous. But even if you don’t let me know—just keep on! You are, absolutely, the body of Christ in the world.

2009-02-16T07:55:00.000-08:00

Feeling quietly proud.;…

I think it was some character from the Pogo comic strip of yesteryear who used to say (usually after some ridiculous catastrophe) that he was “quietly proud.” The phrase has become part of my vocabulary, but I’ll admit that sometimes I’m not totally quiet when I’m feeling proud.

I was feeling quietly proud several times last week during our Conference Board of Ordained Ministry at Mount Wesley…specifically, when two First Church alums came for their ordination interviews. Kyle Toomire, our former associate pastor and Director of Youth Ministries, was unanimously approved for elder’s orders, and Deana Hendrix, a former member, was unanimously approved for deacon’s orders. Both Deana and Kyle began their candidacy for ordained ministry at First Church. Kyle is now pastor of a new church, Journey UMC in Kyle, Texas (yes, that’s Kyle in Kyle!) and Deana is a chaplain with Methodist Health Care Ministries in San Antonio. She has recently been tapped to serve as lead chaplain at a new hospital in the Methodist system.

Both Kyle and Deana were exemplary candidates who showed that they are effective in ministry and faithful in responding to God’s call on their lives. And as I thought of the role First Church played in their lives, in their call and in their preparation for ordained ministry, I couldn’t help feeling quietly proud!

At the risk of forgetting someone, I list others who began steps toward ordained ministry while at First Church who are now serving honorably and well in our Conference—Mel Hazlewood, pastor at LaGrange; Jason Teague, pastor at Comfort; Peter Castles, associate pastor at Manchaca; and Barbara Ruth, Corpus Christi District Superintendent. Two of our own staff members, Jen Stuart and Cathy Stone, are currently enrolled in studies at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, and are in the early stages of candidacy for ordained ministry. Considering all these people and their gifts for ministry, I am more than quietly proud—I am enthusiastically proud!

It is a wonderful thing to be part of a church in which members understand their call to discipleship in the church and in the world. And it’s a blessing to the church and the world far beyond us when that church sends out into ordained ministry men and women with particular gifts for word, sacrament, order, and service. All of us at First Church should be proud—maybe not so quietly—that we are a missional church, a teaching church. And who knows who else among us might be discerning a call? I’ll be quietly proud when I hear about it!

Knowing it by heart

2009-01-12T08:59:00.000-08:00

On a recent Sunday morning, I was invited to a pizza party with our third grade Sunday School class, hosted by their brilliant teachers, Debbie Shaw and Tim Pavlovich. Being old-school in my dietary selections, I had never before eaten pizza before lunchtime, although of course I’d heard many accounts of pizza for breakfast from others. Now I’m a believer—I learned that pizza works great for brunch—and probably for breakfast, too.

The pizza party was not a regular occurrence, as indicated by the excitement and anticipation of the sixteen children crowded around tables in their classroom, bright with all kinds of posters and pictures. The event was a celebration of their latest achievement in the Bible study that is the center of their curriculum. They had memorized the names of the books of the New Testament, in order, and had invited me to come and hear their recitation. They reeled them off in rapid-fire succession, at the tops of their voices. There was maybe a little stumbling over Galatians and Ephesians”, but they came back strong for Philippians,and Colossians, without the slightest hesitation over First and Second Thessalonians. They soared on to a triumphant conclusion: “First John, Second John, Third John, Jude, Revelation!” (And the exclamation point was absolutely audible!)

After a little discussion about using their Bibles (presented to them in a worship service in September), we enjoyed the pizza together. Next on the morning's schedule was decorating gingerbread houses to be taken to the Children’s Hospital.

That session had all the elements needed not just for a worthwhile class session, but for remembering what it means to be United Methodist. There was food, there was study, there was service to others.

The children had used their minds (and who knows how many memory aids suggested by those creative teachers) to memorize that formidable list of twenty-seven books, many with strange-sounding names. Some might ask why that was necessary—after all, every Bible has a table of contents. But in that classroom, in that setting, where every child is more than welcome, where every child is loved and appreciated and encouraged, the boys and girls were not just memorizing that information—they were learning it “by heart.” They know the list by heart, and they know more—they know that their church is a community of love and learning and service.

We all know lots of stuff, stored for accessibility in various parts of our brains. I’ve forgotten a whole lot of stuff that I put in my mind a long time ago (and not so long ago!), but there are some things I know by heart, and I don’t forget them. I know I am a beloved child of God, called to use every resource entrusted to me in faithful response to that love, and I never know that more clearly than when I’m with the people of this church.

Those third graders may not always remember the order of the books of the New Testament, as their minds get full of other valuable information. But they will never forget what they know by heart. I’m so grateful for these teachers and all the others in our church who know and teach from their hearts!

Hard Candy Christmas

2008-12-08T09:27:00.000-08:00

People of a certain age or very eclectic musical taste may recognize the line above as the title of a song from a musical theater piece dating back to the 70’s. The title is a bit risqué for reproduction here, but it involves a business that called itself the best in Texas.
The song describes the hard times ahead when the business sees that it must close, leaving employees with expectations of only “hard candy” for their Christmas celebration…no money for gifts or expensive treats, only cheap hard candy.

I know there are a great many families in Austin who would have only a “hard candy Christmas” without the generosity of this congregations and others, who make a special effort to help those in need at this time of year. And there are countless others, in our nation and around the world, for whom every day is a “hard candy” day. Each day’s news brings us more reports of unemployment, failing businesses, serious recession, and fear of even worse to come.

Because I always to take responsibility for whatever situation confronts me, especially if it’s one in which people are getting hurt, I’ve been reflecting a lot on what I can and should do about it. Do I save more, worrying about future security, or spend more, doing what I can to pump up the economy? (As if my very limited purchasing power would make a difference!)

I expect I will do what I usually do at Christmas time…I’ve already shopped happily and fairly boldly at our Alternative Gift Market, so some of my money will be spent here in Austin and around the world to help those most in need have a chance to better themselves. I’ll shop specifically for one family adopted by my Walk to Emmaus Reunion Group. I’ll give modestly but enthusiastically to many of the organizations that meet human needs in places I’ll never go. And I’ll continue to marvel at the extravagant generosity of those in First Church who give so much to others all year long, and especially at this time of year.

There have been some “hard candy Christmases” in my life, and there may be again. But with or without presents and treats, I know that Christ comes...perhaps especially when times are hard, to people in need. And I am grateful that the love of Christ is shown so clearly in and among the people who are First United Methodist Church!

Happy Advent—Merry Christmas!

Choosing to Help

2008-11-03T13:17:00.000-08:00

Choices, choices! Life is all about choices. What shall I order for lunch? Which route home will get me there with the least hassle? What should I preach on next week? How should I spend the next hour? The next fifteen minutes? Whom should I help, and now?

That last question, that last matter of choice, has presented itself to me in very concrete ways during the last few weeks. Because of being the pastor on call for the week-end, or simply being the one available at the office, or the one remembered by the person needing help, I’ve been giving away money from the Pastors’ Fund…not a whole lot at one time, but several small grants.

I confess, with some guilt, that helping the poor and needy is not something I enjoy doing, or do well. I am so grateful for the many church members who truly engage with those who need our help—who get to know them and care about them in a personal way. That is not my gift…but some times that is what I must do. In the last month I’ve directed gifts from the Pastors’ Fund to a woman who was behind on her rent, facing possible eviction; to a man needing a car repair in order to drive back to Galveston to start rebuilding; and to a woman getting money together to avoid having the utilities in her home cut off. Each of them described their hope, and at least the beginning of a plan, for something better.

I doubt that I will ever know if any of those three had their hopes fulfilled, if they made good on their plans. What I do know is that they saw the church as a source of hope and help, and that because of your generosity, I was able to help them, at least in a small way.

When Laurie comes to tell me that someone is asking for a pastor, or asking for me, by name, I always have a choice. I can see that person or not; I can help or not. I’m not really qualified to know who “deserves” our help. I can only remember that our Lord shows up in unexpected places, at inopportune times, in strange garb. I have faith that you want me to help, so I almost always choose to do so.

In these times of financial hardship for many, and uncertainty for just about all of us, I am especially grateful for all the ways this church chooses to help “the least of these.” And I’m trying to get better at it. Today I chose to sit with the woman needing help for a few minutes. I asked her about her family and her future, and her eyes brightened as she told me about her children and her longing to get some training for a better job. I’m glad I made that choice, and I thank you for making it possible!

The autographed book

2008-09-29T13:31:00.000-07:00

The book slipped off the counter in my office when I reached for something else. As I picked up the thick volume, I flipped it open to read again what the author had written when he autographed it for me several years ago. The inscription reads, “Scholarship is the power of the mind to dispel ignorance and fear.”

Those words were written by E. Michael White and the book is From Jesus to Christianity. Dr. White is a distinguished scholar, on faculty at the University of Texas here in Austin, and he has done several presentations for us here at First Church. Every event has been filled with new ideas and insights, a wealth of historical information, and perhaps most important, the witness of a scholar who is also a believer. And just in case someone asks for a quick review, I will confess right up front that I haven’t read the book, but I know it must be great. Until I do, I will simply treasure and meditate on that inscription.

I am no scholar—I know that when I listen to some of my colleagues and friends, read my daughter’s essays, and compare the amount of time I spend in study to the time I spend watching television and reading mysteries. But I am always a student, even when I’m not sitting in a class…and occasionally, I am a teacher.

I am so glad—even proud—to be part of a church that values learning, that honors scholarship. This church and others before this one, as well as our connectional church, have taught me so much about the world I live in, about the Scriptures I treasure and the faith I claim. And since this church and others have allowed me be a teacher, I have, from time to time, had a very small part in dispelling the ignorance and fear that have kept some hesitant or skeptical seekers from freely and fully exploring the possibilities that faith in God and Christ can bring. I know God wants to change our hearts, and I believe God also wants us to use and expand our minds.

Is this a commercial for one of our many classes? Perhaps, but I prefer to think of it as an invitation to begin or continue your exploration of who are you called to be and become, and what the Christian faith tells you about that. When mind and spirit work together in our lives, God can begin to dispel the clouds of ignorance and fear. When we are free from ignorance and fear, we can love God and neighbor with all our heart, soul, and strength…and, I am bold to add, with all our mind.

I am grateful to God for scholars who use their minds and spirits to the glory of God!

I never went to Appalachia

2008-08-25T13:48:00.000-07:00

I never went to Appalachia. I helped my daughter prepare for the very first trip (and the next three) our youth group made to participate in the Appalachia Service Project. I bought stock, and encouraged my very shy daughter to sell stock to others. I rose early in the morning several times to send the group on their way with prayer, and stayed late at the church to welcome them back. I thought about them and prayed for them while they were gone, but I never went. When Bert Jones would entreat me to go, I typically responded, “I am so inept and klutzy I would only get in the way and maybe even hurt myself…best thing I can do is stay home, out of the way, and send money.”

As I watched the slide show at the recent ASP lunch celebration and listened to stories from this year’s trip and from past years, I almost wished I had gone. I’ve always known that those trips are life-changing experiences, and this latest report made that abundantly clear. The event featured reports from each work team, detailing the kind of work they did (from repairing roofs and digging huge ditches to building floors and hanging doors), along with descriptions of the families at whose homes they worked.

Coming in for special recognition at the luncheon were some of the folks who supported the project from the beginning, including Jay Pierson, who took the group on their first trip in 1979, when he was working as Director of Youth; Anna Jones, who, along with Bert, continued to shepherd the project after Jay left the church staff; and Gordon Wesley, who inherited the ASP mantle from Bert. Three who were youth on that first team were present: Laurie Barr, Kirsten Murchison, and Caroline Jones. Daughters of each one have made the trip, numerous times. Many other adults and youth who participated in earlier years attended, thanks to the organizing genius of Robbie Ausley. There were some joyful reunions!

It’s impossible to measure the impact of those trips to Appalachia on the lives of our youth and adult sponsors and on the people they met there. They can know for sure that they made homes “warmer, safer, drier” (ASP motto). They can know, too, that they made hearts warmer and larger—their own, and those of the people they helped. They have surely understood, with increasing maturity, something of the complexities of our nation, with its contrasts between wealth and poverty. And they know much more about themselves and each other, and what it means to be the Body of Christ in a wounded world.

I never went to Appalachia. Most of us at First Church did not—could not—go with the youth on those trips. But every one of us can be grateful to those who have gone and who will go in the future, on our behalf. It is a wondrous thing to be part of a church with a tradition of service from generation to generation. I’m confident that generations to come will continue to make the trip—and when all the homes in Appalachia have been made warmer, safer, and drier, there will be other fields of service. As long as I can, I’ll stay out of the way and send money!

More than sound bites....

2008-07-21T12:44:00.000-07:00

More than sound bites….

In this long political season, I am continually fascinated and sometimes horrified by the place of religion national arena. I feel totally frustrated when I read or hear statements by preachers or commentators who grandly assume they have the definitive word about the faith I cherish. It’s especially hard when the Christian faith is represented by those whose views are narrow and arrogant (in my opinion). Often these come in religious “sound bites”, consisting of key words and phrases that tend to oversimplify the issues. Considering the religious views of current candidates for public office, as well as media commentators, I’ve found myself wishing that I could instruct them on biblical background and theological perspectives. And here I, too, am a bit arrogant.

When asked a question about the Christian faith, I give much more than sound bites. I tend to respond like the parent in that old story about the child who came home from kindergarten asking, “Where did I come from?” The parent believes the future mental health of the child is at stake, and is thoroughly prepared for this question. She takes a deep breath and goes into a complete physiological explanation of human reproduction. When she pauses, the child responds, “Oh…well, I just wondered…the new kid at school came from Chicago.”

Like that parent, I want to answer every question with a great many words, with deep background and many nuances. But on reflection, I find I do have some relatively brief statements of my faith, borrowing heavily from creeds of the church.

I believe in God as Creator and loving and wise Parent. I believe God works in our lives through the Holy Spirit, through the actions of others, through the events of every day. I believe God wants good for the world and everyone in it, and that God calls us as disciples toward that end. I believe that God was in Christ, reconciling the world to God’s self, showing us what it means to be fully human. I believe in Jesus as the incarnation of God’s love and grace for the world, challenging us to love as he loved. I believe in the Holy Spirit as the comforting, disturbing, and empowering presence of God in our lives. I believe that sin is whatever we do or choose that separates us from God, others, and our best selves, but that, in the paraphrased words of the Apostle Paul, nothing can finally separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. I believe that we are saved from our sin for new life in Christ. I believe that the Kingdom of God is in the midst of us wherever people are feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, caring for the sick…and that the Kingdom is always coming, but still to come. I believe that the Holy Scriptures are a great gift, and that we are called to use the best resources we have to understand what they tell us of the past, how they speak to us today, and where they guide us for the future. I believe in the church as the beloved community, the Body of Christ in the world

I am grateful that I was born into a family and a community where the Christian faith—especially the United Methodist expression of it—is cherished, but I know that my experience is not universal. I respect every other expression of faith that leads to life and love, and trust God to know what is in the hearts of all people. And in the end, perhaps I’m willing to affirm a sound bite of sorts, quoting John McMullen’s great friend, the unofficial mayor of south Austin, Danny Young: “Love ‘em all and let God sort ‘em out.” .

I would love to have your comments—I always welcome instruction!

Paying Attention

2008-06-23T15:13:00.000-07:00

When I hear the words, “Pay attention”, I am transported back to seventh grade, and our P.E. teacher, Miss Kerbel. Her command would rise above the shrillness of the voices of twenty-five girls packed into a corner of the basement room where we met before going up to the gym or out to the ball field. The words came out in stentorian tones so that they became one word, one thought: “Paytenshun!” And we all got quiet immediately, waiting for her instructions, which came rapidly. In more recent times, as I watch myself drifting in and out of focus, starting a new task before completing the first one, making lists and losing them, I say the words to myself.

But a better instruction, a more encouraging and inviting way of encouraging focus, would be to think of the word “mindfulness”—a concept associated with the Vietnamese Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, who worked tirelessly for peace for his nation, only to be exiled for his efforts. His work on “engaged Buddhism” and on the concept of mindfulness have made him known and appreciated all around the world.

I remembered mindfulness (how sadly typical that mindfulness is something that often slips my mind!) when I came across this quotation: “The most precious gift we can offer others is our presence. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers.”

I wrote those words of Thich Nhat Handh on a yellow post-it note a long time ago and tucked it away between the pages of a book I started reading and never finished. I don’t know where I found the quotation, or when I wrote it. I wasn’t paying proper attention.

“Mindfulness” is all about paying attention to where we are, what we are doing, who our companions are, what is going on, in the present moment. As I write that, I wonder if it sounds difficult—too concentrated a task. But as I look at the way I live, I think mindfulness would be a welcome relief from my tendency to try to do several things at once. Mindfulness would enable me to be present in each moment, without anticipating what I must do next, what I should say next, what to do next. Mindfulness would bring peace.

The rewards and results of mindfulness can readily be seen in children. When we have the patience to listen to them truly and well, asking questions that help them clarify their thoughts, letting them know that they are truly important to us, they do open and bloom like flowers. But all of us, at any age, are capable of opening and blooming, if there is someone to encourage and pay attention.

We live in a world of beauty and wonder, of complexity and even tragedy…and often we miss the beauty, oversimplify the complexity, and try to avoid the tragedy. We let ourselves get distracted by whatever is in front of us. We need to pay attention. When we pay attention not only to our own needs and feelings, but also to those of the people around us, our own lives will be enriched by the connection. It is a beautiful thing to have even a small part in helping others bloom and become all that God intends.

“Pay attention.” I’m saying that to myself calmly and quietly, not as a reprimand or a command, but as an invitation to mindfulness, to remember that “When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers.”

2008-05-25T14:14:00.000-07:00

A Day in the Life….

There was a day when I knew about everything that was going on at First Church—at least I thought so. And I’m pretty sure I was almost right. I didn’t go to meetings of the Finance Committee or the Trustees; I didn’t go out with the Fisherfolk to call on first-time visitors in their homes, but I went to almost everything else.

That was a long time ago. It was probably sometime in the 80’s when I freed myself from guilt for not going to everything, and late in the 90’s when I began to realize that I couldn’t even know about everything that was happening.

Consider a recent Sunday—May 18. That day presented a dazzling array of activities for First Church members and friends, beginning with a choice of four worship services at 9:00. Sunday School classes met at 9:45, with several special options—a Godly Play Information/Demonstration session, a baptism counseling class, and a festive brunch for graduating high school seniors. The Café Mission team was selling great coffee and treats to benefit the Social Justice Team’s projects. Tweeners were selling manna bags to be given to hungry and homeless people, and youth were selling stock in the Appalachia Service Project, to make homes of some of the nation’s poorest people warmer, safer, and drier. There were two worship services at 11:00, followed by an Administrative Board meeting at noon. That ended the day at church for many people, but there were still more choices. The afternoon and early evening brought a Musica Sacra Concert, an organizational meeting for United Methodist Women, a training event for children’s Sunday School teachers, the United Methodist Youth Fellowship supper and meeting, and a worship service sponsored by the Reconciling Ministries Team.

A day in the life of First Church brings many opportunities for worship, study, service, and personal enrichment—all made possible by the dreaming and working of faithful and creative members. The days when staff members had to be at every event are long gone. We don’t have that much staff, but we do have plenty of members who make things happen. Most of us cannot keep up with everything that’s going on, but church leaders work hard, using every method they can think of, to let you know, so that you can choose to participate in the events and ministries that meet your needs, nourish your spiritual life, and use the gifts God has given you for the benefit of the Kingdom.

Not all days are as busy as was May 18, but every day in the life of First Church is important. Every day in the life of First Church is one in which we are called to use our God-given resources to bring as many people as possible into a lasting, life-changing relationship with God through Christ Jesus.

2008-04-28T09:28:00.000-07:00

Confirmation: Bridge to the Future

As I moved around Great Hall during the breakfast celebration for our eighth-grade Confirmation Class, greeting youth and their families, I was glad to realize that I knew most of them. Because it’s been a while since I worked directly with children and youth, and especially because we offer five different worship services on Sunday mornings, I can’t expect to know everyone—though I would like to!

Watching the young people with their families, I noted that I’ve watched some of them grow up in our 9:00 Chapel service, while I see others in the Sanctuary. Some of the youth were born into this church. There is at least one whose mother joined here as a young single, and one whose parents have not yet joined the church.

Some of the youth belong to families that go way back with us. Jenae Flores’ mother, Kelly Ausley-Flores, daughter of Tom and Robbie Ausley, was a preschooler when I came back to First Church in 1970. Jenae represents the third generation of the Ausley family to join FUMC. But Hailey and Will Grote have roots that go back even further, to four generations of First Church members. Their mother is Debbie Voss Grote, whose parents are John and Loretta Voss. John’s parents were Herman “Rookie” Voss and Dorothy Voss. Rookie was business administrator of First Church back in the 1950’s, and Dorothy was superintendent of the Senior High Department. John, the middle of three sons, returned to Austin after retiring from a military career. Debbie and her brother grew up in this church, and now Debbie and Butch Grote’s children are growing up here.

That tapestry of membership made me think of the theme of our capital campagin, “Bridge to the Future.” The Vosses began a relationship that has spanned four generations. They have kept on giving to First Church, long after their time. But the great thing is that you don’t have to have four generations of history here to love this church and to join in building that bridge. Newcomers pitch in all the time, shoring up support, extending the pathway, making it sure and safe not just for those who are here now, but also for those who will come after us.

Note these names: Tyler Bumpass…Jenae Flores…Wyatt Garrett…Hailey Grote…Will Grote…Haley Mills…Rachel Nauert…Rachel Proctor…Jefferson Reese…Luke Russell.

Those are the names of all the confirmands who joined First Church officially, solemnly, and joyfully on April 27. They belong to us now, they are walking on the bridge that you are building, and they are building it with us. I invite you to pray for each of them by name. And more than that, I challenge you to add your gifts to your prayers, by making a pledge to our capital campaign. We are building a bridge to the future not just for ourselves, but for these young people…for their children…for children we do not know but who will surely come to us! I thank God for them, and for each of you.

Easter is over?

2008-03-24T16:13:00.000-07:00

Easter is over.

No, it isn’t. Keep reading.

Easter Sunday was March 23, 2008—as you probably know, one of the earliest Easters ever, and certainly the earliest one for many years to come. I heard at least one sports commentator complaining that Easter was conflicting with March Madness. He whined that Easter should be on one certain day every year. No one explained about how the date for Easter is set—at least not during that broadcast.

Easter Sunday was a glorious day for us at First Church. There was quiet joy at the Sunrise Service and the Contemplative Service. The Chapel was full at both the 9:00 and 11:00 services, and at the earlier service, we were delighted to have an Easter choir. The Sanctuary Services were just what they should have been on Easter—great hymn singing and great anthems, accompanied by a brass ensemble, a wonderful sermon, and Handel’s “Hallelujah” from “Messiah”, with members of the congregation invited to come sing with the choir.

Easter Sunday is past, but Easter continues. The Season of Easter continues for what is sometimes called The Great Fifty Days until Pentecost.Sunday on May 11. It is a season filled with the joy found in our assurance that Christ is risen. Tradition says that in the early church, monks and priests in monasteries made it a point to tell jokes and laugh all through the season, because God had outsmarted the forces of evil by raising Christ from the dead.

The Easter Sunday Sanctuary bulletins featured a quotation from Frederick Buechner, commenting on the mystery of the resurrection of Jesus: “It’s not his absence from an empty grave that convinces us. It’s his presence in our empty lives.”

Empty lives, you may think, doesn’t apply to people as busy and as purposeful as we First Methodists are. Our lives often seem over-full—places to go, people to see, tasks to accomplish. The point is to notice whether our lives are full of our responses to the call of God, or with substitutes to fill the emptiness.

The Easter Season is a perfect time to notice—in prayer, in meditation, in holy conferencing (intentional conversations with others)—the presence of Christ in our lives. It is a good time to notice how alive we are—not just in high, holy moments, not only in daunting challenges, but in the ordinary tasks and moments of every day.

Jesus said, “I have come that you might have life, and have it more abundantly.” Easter is a perfect time to choose and celebrate abundant life.

Core Message: What Do You Preach?

2008-02-18T09:56:00.000-08:00

Last week I spent two days at Mount Wesley, our United Methodist center in Kerrville, for the spring meeting of the Conference Board of Ordained Ministry. On one marathon day we interviewed sixteen candidates for ordination, an arduous, sometimes difficult, often joyful task.

Candidates come into a large room to find 40 people seated around a big open square of tables. After a brief introduction and prayer, the interview begins. Any Board member can ask just about any question, from something theological (“What is the role of the Holy Spirit in salvation?”) to practice of ministry (“Suppose someone in your congregation comes to you after a spiritual experience, asking for re-baptism. What do you do?”) to personal (“How do you take care of yourself?”).

Having served on the Board for ten years now, I’ve learned that some Board members have their favorite questions, whoever the candidate is. One of our members almost always asks, “What is your core message? If you had just one sermon to preach, what would it be?”

Apart from Board meetings, I’ve heard veteran pastors say that every preacher has one sermon in his or her heart, and that every sermon will give that message. After some reflection, I think that may be true, and I think it’s true for me. I hope I don’t preach the same sermon over and over, but I think just about every sermon I preach has in it, to some degree, my “core message.” The text is found in the first few verses of Genesis 12. Stated simply, it’s “Blessed to be a blessing.”

That Scripture passage describes the call of Abram (not yet ready for his new name, Abraham), and God’s promise of blessing. God says to the not-so-young man, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing….and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”

I look back on my life…I consider what each new day brings…I look ahead…and I see blessings! Life has not been perfect; I’ve had my share of failures and disappointments. But in every experience, God has found a way to bless me…and, to my joy and gratitude, God often finds ways for me to bless others.

I see those blessings when I look at our congregation. I know many of your stories and your struggles. Some of you have been through incredibly difficult times, and yet you’ve found blessings, and you bless others. I look at our common life as a church. Again, there have been incredibly difficult times, real struggles, and yet we always find blessings and we continue to bless others.

Those of us who prepare a sermon every week are not the only preachers. All of us who are baptized are called to be ministers of Christ. St. Francis said, “Preach always! When necessary, use words.” So I ask you—what is your core message? If you had one sermon to preach, what would it be? There’s no vote involved, no pressure, but I invite you to reflect on the question. Look at your life, and see what you are preaching. And if the answer is not clear, take some more time. In this season of prayer, spend some time listening to God, and to your life. It will be time well spent!

Holy Moments

2008-01-14T12:13:00.000-08:00

John McMullen, in his January 13 sermon, shared with us his experience of a holy moment. On the Sunday before, two young sisters had served as readers in the 11:00 worship service, and because it was Communion Sunday, they helped us serve. John told how he was deeply moved as he listened to seven-year-old Libby clearly say to each person, as she held the cup, “The cup of Christ.” A few feet away from him, I was having the same kind of experience with Libby’s older sister, Caroline.

Reflecting on this, I thought how impossible, how unheard-of, serving Communion would have been for me in my childhood. Such a privilege was reserved only for those who were ordained. I remember hearing about altar boys from Catholic friends, but our church didn’t even have acolytes. I am so glad that our church welcomes children, and understands how they minister to us.

Let me be clear—I’m not describing how “sweet” or (perish forbid) “cute” it was to see children involved so closely in leading worship. There’s nothing inherently wrong with “sweet” and “cute”—children can’t help being sweet and cute. The moments were sweet and tender because the girls are young, and this was a first-time experience for them. But they were also holy moments! We could sense that the girls knew they were part of something holy; we could feel the Spirit of God resting on them and on us.

Holy moments come to me often, in all sorts of times and places, but none are more treasured than the ones I experience in the worship services here. Listening as Chapel friends share prayer concerns or ask for help for an outreach ministry, being present at a baptism, watching important friendships grow among people who met because they attend the same worship service, being moved by the amazing variety of music used at our several worship services—all of these are holy moments. God is present in all these experiences, seeking us, calling us into relationship with God and with each other.

I know we can experience holy moments every day, wherever we are…but life gets busy and complicated, and we may not always notice how God is in our midst. Our worship services are designed to remind us of God’s seeking love, to provide space and time for holy moments to happen. I hope they will happen for you—here and everywhere!

Christmas Decorations

2007-12-21T08:54:00.000-08:00

Just between us, I'm going to make a confession. Although I love Christmas decorations, I have not decorated my home for Christmas.

All my Christmas celebrations happen away from home--many beautiful services at church, where both Chapel and Sanctuary bring us wonderful music and are gorgeously adorned with lighted trrees and wreaths and poinsettias and candles and stars and a major angel; in the homes of several church members who have made their homes beautiful and festive; at my sister's home in Seguin on Chrstmas Eve with my extended family, where the tree bears, in addition to the beautifully coordinated lights and ornaments, three that are several years older than I am: two little angels (one with pink wings, one with bhlue)and about eighteen inches of shiny foil circles on a thread (al that remains of perhaps six feet of the original, ordered, along with the angels, from the Sears catalog in 1925); and finally, on Christmas Day, in the home of Greg and Caroline and Veronica (children and grandchildren), where the decorations are lovely and quite eclectic.

Intending to decorate at my own cozy home, I got most of the boxes down from the high closets--many creches and angels and ornaments for display, but my artificial tree (purchased long ago in concession to my allergies) remains in the garage storeroom. and all the boxes of creches and angels and ornaments are stacked on the cedar chest in the spare bedroom. So...no decorations here at home.

Except for the gifts and wrapping paper spread out on the guest bed (to the great curiosity and enjoyment of my cat), and now overflowing to the kitchen table and the living room, where I stash them in big gift bags as they are wrapped (again, to the curiosity and enjoyment of my cat). So I've decided that the wrapping paper and ribbon and gift bags are, in fact, my Christmas decorations--including the foil packages and zip-loc bags of goodies in the freezer, awaiting distribution. They all remind me of the people I love, and the fun I had choosing and preparaing gifts for them. In our extended family, we no longer exchange gifts--we all have everything we need and most of what we want! But family members love readng the cards about what I chose for them at the Alternative Gift Market, and I've added some very small gifts designed to make them laugh. And of course, there are gift bags and boxes that have dome to me, bearing lovely things.

So it seems to me that the best Christmas decorations are the ones we give each other--from the wrappings around mny gifts to the decorations at church to the beautiful lights and displays in my neighborhood. I am grateful for them all. I urge you, at this Christmas time, to fill your heart with memories of these beautiful sighs and sounds. They will last long after the packages have been unwrapped and the decorations put away. They will warm your heart and light your way in the cold and darkness of winter and fill your life with your life with love.

Have a beautiful Christmas!

The Sights and Sounds of ChristmasThe Sounds and Sights of ChristmasThe Sounds and Sights of Christmas

2007-12-05T15:41:00.000-08:00

The Sounds and Sights of Christmas
Yes, I know we’re in the Advent season—and the Advent season is very important. As Frederick Buechner writes (paraphrased and abbreviated), Advent is the moment just before something very important and wonderful happens.
A long time ago a very stern curmudgeon told me that Advent is really intended to be a time of darkness, with emphasis on penitence and preparation. That is, in fact, where some of the Scripture selections take us. Just listen to John the Baptist preaching repentance, calling his congregation a bunch of snakes, doubting their sincerity in coming to him. That’s all about penitence. But there are more encouraging and hopeful Scripture selections, too. As the prophets call us to prepare, they speak to us of a time of peace and joy to come.
The latter message is what you’ll hear in Wednesday evening Chapel services between now and Christmas. It’s Advent in the church year, but the Chapel certainly looks like Christmas, with garlands and wreaths and two lovely lighted trees adorning our worship space, especially beautiful in candlelight. And the music will be very special this month. On December 12 the service will anticipate Christmas with lots of Scripture and music—sung by a soloist, a special ensemble, and the congregation, with beautiful music by our instrumentalists. On December 19, in our Service of Light in the Midst of Darkness, you’ll hear Shana Norton, harpist, accompanying Holy Communion and the Service of Anointing, as well as the favorite, “O Holy Night,” sung by Ruth Buss and Susan Sanders.
If this sounds like a shameless plug, it is. This is your invitation to join us on the next two Wednesdays, at 7:00 p.m. in the Murchison Chapel. The sights and sounds will be beautiful and will be lifted to God, whether you’re here or not. But those sights and sounds are sure to make your heart ready for the very important and wonderful thing that will happen on Christmas.

Back from Italy!

2007-11-19T08:34:00.000-08:00

That long, long trip I wrote about in October is now in the past, but far from forgotten. That long time (13 days) passed very quickly!

I learned many things, one of which is that it is probably impossible to have a bad meal in Italy. I discovered hot chocolate (the kind I expected to drink, but happily ate with a spoon instead) thicker and darker than hot fudge sauce. In Rome,I was dumbstruck by the Colosseum and the Forum—but not too dumbstruck to ask lots of questions of our guide. I stood with just six other people in the Sistine Chapel, attempting to grasp the enormity of the project, awed by the strangeness of what was there, and overwhelmed by the incredible amount of ornamentation throughout the Vatican Museum. I struggled to keep back tears in the Jewish synagogue as our guide told us stories of centuries of persecution, and the desecration of the building by Nazis during World War II. I spent a night in a ninth-century castle, where the host served pineapple upside-down cake for breakfast, followed by cereal and fruit and a long conversation about United Methodist beliefs—he really wanted to know! I saw autumn in Tuscany, with mountainsides covered in gold and red, learning that Sally Watkins will drive a car over anything like a road to get where we want to go. I heard a priest chanting the mass in an old, old abbey in Sant Antimo, and dared to dip my fingertip into the holy water. I explored the infinite variety of shopping opportunities in Rome and Florence, and even bought a few things. You’ll see my new red stole from Rome on Pentecost Sunday next May! Perhaps most important, with my two traveling companions, Sally and Sue, I spent two evenings in Italian homes, invited by a driver and a guide.

The trip taught me what most of you already know—that it is good to look at and live in another part of the world occasionally; that it is important to take time to feed one’s soul. I experienced what I’m good at telling other people: that rest and play and discovery can bring us as close to God as does work—perhaps even closer. And I realized anew what a gift it is to share uninterrupted time with friends.

I’m very glad I made the trip; I’m very glad to be safely home. It was incredibly hard to be so far away at a time when there were significant losses among us, but that was a learning experience, too. Returning in time for our All Saints celebration helped. Standing in the Chapel and Sanctuary with those dear congregations, singing “For All the Saints,” hearing the names of the departed read, lighting candles for those we have loved—all reminded me of the power of the community of faith that is ours. I am blessed to be here with you, and so appreciate all your encouragement—in this travel adventure and in my ministry.

Off to Italy!

2007-10-10T14:41:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, October 21, I will leave Austin for a long, long trip to Italy. Really long—twelve days! No, really, that’s a long, long trip for me. I think long and hard before embarking on a five-day trip for continuing education within the bounds of the United States. I am definitely a homebody.

I’m not sure exactly how this happened, but it’s happening. I will travel to Rome, Tuscany, and Florence with two of my dearest and longest-standing friends, Sally Watkins and Sue Bock. Since Sally is a travel agent and a specialist in Italy, and Sue is reading all the books Sally has assigned as pre-trip homework, I am assured of the best possible companionship. My most enjoyable preparation for the trip has been reading John Grisham’s new book about American football in Italy, Playing for Pizza. I don’t expect to see American football there, but I can’t wait to sample real Italian food made in Italy!

For a person born into a poor family in the depths of the Great Depression, this trip is a huge luxury. Is it really okay to spend the money and time this way? Should I stay home and give the money to the church or to the poor? Should I save it for a rainy day and my old age, which might come some time far in the future?

I have thought about this a lot—in fact, I think about this when making many small decisions about spending money. I know that everything I have comes from God, and that I have been hugely blessed to have come to a place in life that allows such discretionary spending. I find it amazingly wonderful that I have been so blessed, and agonizingly painful to remember that I have so much and so many have so little.

So…I live in some tension in this world of haves and have-nots. I know that I am not called to the life of an ascetic—take a look in my clothes closet or refrigerator, and that will be clear to anyone. But I know that I am called to be responsible to God for what I have…so along with my extra spending on this trip, I will do some extra giving to the church. I have listened with much interest and shared joy as friends who have traveled afar have described their journeys, and believe their travel has enriched their lives. So as I go, I will remember that God must surely be happy when we seek and explore new things, strange beauty, unfamiliar treasures, and the joy of friends.

I’ll be back to celebrate All-Saints worship with the saints of First Church, and I’ll probably be eager to tell you about my adventures. In the meantime, grace and peace to each of you!