I never went to Appalachia

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....

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

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.”

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.

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?

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?

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!