July 2017 message

July 2017 • Volume 19, Number 4

VBS fun

The Call: 2 Let Your Light Shine at Rally Day: 7 Time to Wake Up: 7 Mission Memories: 9 Foundations: 11 What is Patrick Reading Now?: 12 Photo Album: 15

FROM

In this issue:

The Call

Family Ministry .................... 6

This is Patrick’s first epistolary essay in this series about the Christian ministry.

Music Ministry....................... 7 Youth Ministry ...................... 9 Our Church Life .................10 Page Turners.......................12 Great Commission..............13 Calendar of Events.............14 Photo Album........................15

Sunday Services: 7:30 a.m.

Holy Eucharist, Rite 1 9:00 a.m.

Family-friendly Communion Service with Music 10:00 a.m.

Christian Education for Children, Youth, and Adults 11:00 a.m.

Choral Eucharist, Rite 2 6:00 p.m.

Holy Eucharist, Rite 2 Visit us on-line at www.cecsa.org

Front cover photo by Susanna Kitayama Back cover photo by CEC Youth Ministry

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D

ear Alex,

I was pleased and surprised to receive your good letter, and it PATRICK GAHAN Rector pleased me even patrickg@cecsa.org more that you may be discerning a call to the priesthood. By my recollection, I have known about you since your mother, Julianne, was proudly announcing her pregnancy. Pete, your father, was reticent then as now, but the brightness in his eyes was unmistakable during your mother’s uninhibited broadcasts.

The glimmer still appears whenever we meet and we speak of you.

So many of the relationships that have sustained Kay and me were begun at St. Stephen’s. I can scarcely recall a Sunday your family was not spread across the seventh pew on the Gospel side, while Kay tried to corral our three across the aisle beneath the eagle lectern.

Baptisms, Vacation Bible Schools, Christmas Eves, Easter mornings, confirmations, uncounted coffee hours, and sultry parish picnics all fill my head. Little girls in colorful, oversized hair bows; boys pulling at their scratchy collars and unfamiliar ties; the predictable, c o n t i n u o u s “shushing” from parents’ lips; the inevitable slumber

and contingent snoring that overcame Mr. Eaton with the first sentence of my sermon; Margaret making the organ roar, shaking the ceiling joists, and rousing us all to our feet; and the confident joy that held us all in that luminous oak nave all marched out in front of me as I read your words.

As I sit here, a more distant, yet vivid past comes forth in my memory, but in this case it was six basketball players, garbed in white albs, as to impersonate acolytes, marching behind the cross in procession. Chuck Gouffon, point guard; Ashby Knox two guard; Mike Hollingsworth, four forward; Jo-Mo Merrill, center; Chip Crockett, utility; and E.J. Jones, three guard, whom we

From Our Rector... called “Eejus,” our own play on “Jesus,” because he was our perennial high scorer and rebounder. It was April 15, 1988, “Tax Day” to most people, but for me it was the date of my ordination to the diaconate. I had insisted that my varsity basketball team walk in the procession. They made school history with their scrappy, disciplined, neversay-die, confident play, posting a record number of wins. We did not start out that way. The year before we managed but one victory in seventeen contests – the longest four months of my life.

That is why late in that second season, I sat on the bench to marvel at the boys’ transformation. In my memory, they ran up and down the court effortlessly, with every move, cut, pick, and pass carefully choreographed, as if they were dancing in a Broadway musical.

I marveled, too, at my own transformation. Coming to coaching only after completing my military commitment, I felt I was constantly playing catch-up. These boys, these gazelles, these perfectly attuned athletes, moving in flawless harmony with one another personified the success of my vocation. I needed them marching in front of me into this new future. On that day, 29 years ago, I thought I could take the most treasured parts of my past into that uncertain future, as if lugging an overstuffed steamer trunk on board the QE II. My trunk was filled with the acceptable identities I had carefully crafted in my early adult life. I was an athlete, soldier, coach, teacher, father, and husband. I feared these overtly masculine roles were in conflict with my call to the ordained ministry. Not surprisingly, I fled from the call as doggedly as an Olympic distance runner. Invited to attend seminary in 1982, just a year out of the military, I declined, citing my brother and his wife’s tragic deaths as the reason. Their deaths had and have shaken me, so that my emotions remain

close to the surface to this day, but the real death I feared with ordination was my own. How could the muscular warrior projection I had construed of myself survive the domestic, cerebral, affective role of a parish priest? How could I maintain my brawny persona while prancing about in flowing, white robes?

Nevertheless, if I was dogged in fleeing God’s call, He was more steadfast. I

Ordination of Rob Harris in July 2014 relented, but on my own terms. My plan was to continue serving my boarding school just outside of Sewanee, TN. Not surprisingly, this was the 450 acres where first I hammered out my identity as a man. Before arriving on “the Mountain,” as it is fondly known, at age fourteen, I had been raised by a brood of strong women, notably my mother and grandmother. Their strong hand had kept me from succumbing to the physical and emotional terrors rendered by my father, for the first ten years of my life were scenes more suitable for an Alfred Hitchcock film than childhood. To my mother’s credit, she was unwavering in her determination that I would become a man, a good one, even if it necessitated our separation. To that end, she beseeched Fr. Martin and the monks of the Holy Cross to take me in, a boy with no promising attributes and not a cent for tuition. They did, and St. Andrew’s School saved my life, or at the very least it gave me one. Even after marriage and a stint in the military, I returned there.

Fearing a change in course, I carefully crafted one on that sprawling, verdant

campus. I would continue coaching, teaching, and overseeing a dormitory, but now I would assist at daily worship, and I would expand our outreach to impoverished children in Appalachia, which was, after all, the founding purpose of the school.

For this reason, those six boys, Assistant Coach Rob Gabriel, and I had begun Saturday basketball clinics for elementary aged mountain kids that year. The response confounded us.

Every Saturday morning the gymnasium was filled wall-to-wall with eager boys and girls, who wanted to learn basketball fundamentals.

Prayer and short inspirational huddle talks were part of each session, and I felt the approval of those founding monks smiling down on us.

This was the kind of ministry I could see myself doing. My passage into ordained life would be seamless. I could bring the heavy trunk of my past into the present.

Only I couldn’t, for my clever scheme was careening toward the rocky shoals of reality that were lurking beneath the surface.

I was ordained on a Friday, and by the time I decked myself out in a new black shirt, scratchy white collar, and brilliant white alb to serve on that first Sunday at school, the venerated chaplain made it clear that he did not perceive a role for me in the ongoing life and worship of the chapel. My subsequent meeting with the Bishop of Tennessee was less encouraging still.

And while our basketball clinics were filled to overflowing with mountain children, the school administration was not as keen to expand our reach in this manner as I was. All at once, I was a man with a new set of clothes without a place to wear them.

Then the phone rang. Ironic as this may sound, the unexpected caller was the Rev. M.L. Agnew, two-time college

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From Our Rector... football All American, who had coached Sewanee Military Academy, our vile arch rivals, during my high school days. Some said M.L. yelled across the field at me as much as he barked at his own team. He was now Rector of Christ Church in Tyler, TX, and he asked if I would join him in order to organize that large parish for more extensive outreach.

Completely out of options, as I have found myself on several occasions during these 29 years, I accepted immediately.

Kay, our three young children, and I would leave the safe, casual embrace of Sewanee for the well-healed, cosmopolitan confines of Tyler. The culture shock was akin to the Clampetts foray into Beverly Hills but not nearly as humorous.

to the priesthood, which occurred in October 1991.

example – both touchstones from my previous life that I have brought into my calling.

My story is not particularly entertaining or exceptional. Most peoples’ tramp into ordination reads much the same way. We conceive of our call to ministry in a particular way, only to discover we

With that in mind, I should add that no one accepts the call to ministry for entirely unselfish purposes. Will Spong, brother of the notorious Bishop John Selby Spong and one of my favorite seminary professors, once told me, “Not a soul enters the priesthood for purely altruistic purposes.” I own his words. My desire to save Appalachian children was the legacy of my own rescue by that little school atop the mountain.

I continually return to that touchstone. In Austin, I founded “Stephen’s Kids,” a comprehensive educational, spiritual, and character-building ministry for impoverished elementary boys and girls. Accordingly, I have to believe my determination for us at Christ Church to sponsor James Madison School children proceeds from that same touchstone. Not surprisingly, I continued coaching athletes into the second decade of my priestly ordination. I would like to say that all my efforts have been entirely selfless, but, as Will Spong averred, that is not so. Actually, ordained ministry is like marriage. “The two become one,” but there is always two ones. We may receive a calling into the mystery of marriage or ordination, yet our individual selves show up time and again – Patrick with M.L. Agnew at his ordination in 1991 “for better or worse.”

Our adjustment was neither easy, nor pretty. Still reeling from the change, Ben Benitez, Bishop of Texas, summoned me to Camp Allen for a meeting. We had met briefly when I was serving as an infantry officer at Ft. Hood.

Once seated, I launched into my plan to permanently remain a deacon and organize the Church to serve the poor.

Bishop Benitez listened to my impassioned, carefully crafted blueprint for five minutes or less, when he broke in, “No, that is not what you are going to do. You will be ordained a priest and lead parishes in this diocese.” He stood up, shook my hand, and strode off to his next meeting, leaving me in a purple stupor.

A year later, I would have another stupefying conversation with the bishop. My boss, M.L., had accepted a call to become dean of St. Mark’s Cathedral in neighboring Louisiana. In a panic, I phoned Bishop Benitez to ask whom he was assigning to lead Christ Church as Interim Rector. “I’m speaking to him,” he said and abruptly hung up.

I would lead a parish whether I wanted to or not. Good to his word, once the new rector arrived, the bishop assigned me to a new position in Austin and financed my education for ordination

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are drawn in a surprising new direction, for which we do not feel equipped. Our past does march before us into the future, but not so much as a tightly bound script as it provides touchstones to which we return when needed. The fact that I could organize successful football and basketball teams led me, in some way, to develop sustainable ministries in urban, rural, and suburban settings. Because I could command a combat unit in adverse circumstances, I could also lead a congregation through its troubled history to a brighter shore.

I can’t shepherd a church by barking orders at them like the drill instructor I once was, or make the fellowship run wind sprints as I did my procession of athlete charges. Nevertheless, I have been able to inspire and lead others by

“Calling” is an important word for Christians, but it is hardly the vestige of the ordained. The New Testament indisputably declares that all Christians are called and all are called to be priests. This truth is clearly and concisely articulated in the epistolary book of 1 Peter: But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. 1 Peter 2:9 This single verse would express lofty religious sentiments, except that it was most assuredly written during Nero’s persecution of Christians in Rome

From Our Rector... from 56-60 AD or during Trajan’s more far-reaching persecution throughout the empire from 97-117 AD. We are accustomed in this present age to society’s indifference and occasional hostility to Christians, which is a far cry from being forced from our jobs, our homes, or fleeing certain execution. From a distance, we can relate to such rabid barbarism directed at today’s Christians who are in the path of ISIS. Peter writes to tyrannized Christians of his time and to us declaring that contrary to the world’s assessment, each Christian is “called” and strengthened by God to leave the encompassing “darkness” infused in our world. The Holy Spirit leads us to higher ground, so that no matter our circumstances or the devilish powers swirling around us, we are free to live a godly, loving, generous, and forgiving life. The day we submit to Christ, we begin a transformation unmatched in our temporal world. John’s opening salvo in his Gospel clearly sets out this promise: “The light shines in the darkness and that darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).

The consequence of our transformation is that we become “priests” of the first order, so that we genuinely, from our hearts, “proclaim the mighty acts” of God who has completed this work within us. You and I were called to be priests before we were pulled from our mother’s womb. Paul, a first century Christian hater and bounty hunter, advertises this fact through his own hyper-miraculous call, “When God, who set me apart from my mother’s womb and called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son in me so that I might preach him among the Gentiles” (Galatians 1:15-16). His admission

sounds much like Jeremiah’s, who preceded the apostle by 600 years, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations” (Jeremiah 1:15). And the psalmist sings out this truth many years before the two of them, “Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be” (Psalm 139:16). Failing to accept our destiny in God, our priesthood, is to never reach fulfillment, to wile away our days harangued by the insipid chorus, “Is this all there is, my friend?”

Peter’s pronouncement begs the question, if all Christians are called into the royal priesthood, why ordain women and men to be priests, wear funny clothes, and baffle people with their weekly orations? The answer is that the ordained person’s principle duty is to remind all others of God’s call to become priests themselves. Rather than embrace the majesty of this high calling, most lay people I know either don’t believe it or run, like I did, from the call. On the one hand, they can’t fathom the promise from God that they were fashioned from the beginning to be His emissaries of light to this ofttimes dark world. On the other hand, they recoil from the immensity of the task and quickly vest it in the hands of a few religious professionals. So small an army will never eclipse the darkness.

My clergy friends humor me in this matter, and yet most side with the laity. A Seminary trained, distinctively dressed, imminently titled class of people is needed to bring repentance, forgiveness, and healing to the fallen world. We cling to the mythology that

very little happens in the parish until the enlightened ordained arrive. Such a view equates the laity as the “huddled masses,” the “great unwashed horde,”— hardly a royal priesthood.

In a more self-serving way, we clergy resist the priesthood of all believers because we fear being displaced. Will we be needed if ever the people awaken to their calling? The answer is, yes, and more than ever. Does not a mighty army need commanders in the field, a plan of operations, and an assessment of the enemy? The clergy’s role expands exponentially once a congregation realizes its high calling as priests of God. The ordained are not shamans or intermediaries. We are outfitters, drill sergeants, and coaches for the Kingdom of God. This disclosure should not suppress, but rather inspire, our call to ministry.

You and I are not conscripted to be solitary commandos. No, we are part of a “multitude that no one can number” (Revelation 7:9). We are those who have been drafted to serve the One who created heaven and earth and whose single objective is to wage peace through the blood of his cross “to those who are far off and those who are near” (Ephesians 2:17). Our pasts have prodded us to accept this call. Yet our histories will not define the future scope of our individual calls, only give them flavor. We are, have been, and will always be “clay in the Master Potter’s hands,” molding us to do his will and bear his light (Jeremiah 18:6).

Your brother,

Patrick U

“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.”

–1 Peter 2:9

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MINISTRY

The Body

“W

hat a wonderful VBS we had! Learning about Paul and how God’s love is a gift and it is FREE was amazing!

With all of the support of our HALLETA loving volunteers, HEINRICH we were able Director of to worship and Family Ministries pray with close halletah@cecsa.org to 90 children.

Definitely one of the highlights of the week was having Pat McAlpin pray with all of us! Such a special treat!“ These are the words of this year’s VBS Co-Director Lauren Vielock, when asked to share a reflection on her VBS experience. What she said is so true - all generations from toddlers to teens, young adults to seniors, worked together to provide an enriching spiritual experience filled with fun, learning, and fellowship for all. It truly was the Body of Christ in action here on the Christ Church campus! I counted 64 teen and adult volunteers. That’s amazing!!!

of

Christ In Action

As this year’s Market Place Co-Director, along with Jennifer Colglazier, there was an atmosphere of peace and calm in the children who visited the craft shops. It was unhurried and free which is a rare gift in this day and time of over scheduling. The children were so content as they chose their craft of the day and interacted with each other and the Shop Keepers. We Shop Keepers, with ages ranging from 18 to 80’s, loved being with the children and each other.

Friendships began and were deepened as we did God’s work together in our beloved church.

I want to especially thank our VBS leaders, Directors Amy Case and Lauren Vielock. These two young women are very special to me. Amy took on directing VBS seven years ago when I was going through difficult times due to my husband Todd’s deteriorating health. She hung in with me and ran VBS at times when I could not be there.

Then a few years later, she stood by me and for me when I had my own serious health issues. Amy is a strong and loyal friend to me, the children, and Christ Church. Thank you, Amy!

Lauren Vielock is another special case. I knew her years ago as Lauren Brownlee.

She was one of my kids! She and my son Zach were in the same Sunday School class from first grade on, and her mom, Ann Brownlee, was one of my earlier VBS Directors. It is so meaningful to have one of “my kids” come back as a leader in the Children’s Ministry I have directed here at Christ Church for 29 years. An added bonus is that Lauren and husband Wade’s sons, Crayton and Dos, are now my kids, too! In joyful addition, Ann Brownlee was with me this summer as the Toga Shop Keeper.

What fun we had!

What a blessing VBS and Christ Church is to me and so many others! If you or your children have never experienced this great week built on the love of Christ and the Body of Christ in action here, please join us next summer early in June. Amy Case and Lauren Vielock will once again serve as VBS Directors and will offer the BEST VBS experience possible for all who come, from toddlers to seniors. All are welcome!!!

Love in Christ,

Halleta

VBS 2018: Babylon – Daniel’s Courage in Captivity A Holy Land Adventure where we will be inspired to stand strong in our faith 6

Family Ministry...

Get Ready “…let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.”

-- Matthew 5:16 Rally Day is coming Sunday, August 20.

The day will begin with a single Rally Day Celebration Service at 10 AM in the sanctuary, replacing the usual 9 & 11 AM services.

During the service, we will hold our annual Blessing of the Backpacks along with blessing all students and teachers for the new school year.

Following the service will be Open House Rotations. Our Christian Ed leaders from all areas are excited to share their plans for the upcoming year.

As in the past, everyone will have the opportunity to learn what is planned for all ages and stages at Christ Church.

During the Open House, elementaryage and younger children will be treated to a presentation by the Magik

to

Let Your Light Shine

Children’s Theatre in the Parish Hall.

This delightful production is provided free for our children.

Plan to stick around after the Open House for our fabulous Rally Day Parish Picnic on the lawn. We will dine on barbecue meat and hot dogs with delicious sides.

Dessert will be “pot-luck” treats and fruits brought by parishioners.

Please bring your dessert to share on a disposable plate or container.

An offering of $5 per person is requested for lunch.

Childcare will be available for infants through very young preschoolers in the FMC Nurseries from 9 AM to 1 PM.

MINISTRY Wake Up With Summer quickly passing by and the new school year approaching, I couldn’t help but reflect on the personal testimony I presented to the church almost one year ago on Rally Day. My intention was to publish the testimony shortly after, but I failed to do so. Now, almost a year late, here is my message (with some edits) on the power of forgiveness, music, prayer, and patience.

I

heard a voice say, wake up!

My eyes snapped open JOSH BENNINGER to a frightening Director of Music scene. I was in my and Worship car driving fast, joshb@cecsa.org between 70 and 80 mph. But that wasn’t the scary part. What concerned me is that I wasn’t driving on the road anymore. I was now driving off-road, bouncing up and down on grass and dirt. I looked to my left and saw the highway I was supposed to be driving

on, the New Jersey Turnpike. After some frantic braking, I stopped the car just a few feet shy of the tree line.

I was confused, but awake enough to know that I had fallen asleep. I was not surprised since I had not slept in over 24 hours. While nodding off, I had crossed three lanes of congested traffic without hitting any cars or causing any accidents. The year was 1994, and I was 18-years-old. I would find out much later in life that this pivotal moment was my wake-up call.

To understand why this happened, I need to back up the story. Prior to music

entering my life, I was a non-athletic and non-gifted child. My grades were terrible and I hated school. In second grade, I developed a speech problem that made it almost impossible for me to speak. It was a form of stuttering called “blocking.” Because of this, I never raised my hand in class or volunteered for anything. The school nurse knew me well because I would feign illness to avoid situations where I had to speak in class. I am unable to describe how painful this time in my life was.

My whole life revolved around my

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Music Ministry...

Wake Up....cont’d speech problem. However, when I would sing the problem disappeared.

Music provided me a way to express myself without fear. I later taught myself how to play the piano, excelled at playing the clarinet and became involved in the school concert, jazz and marching bands. It was through music that my grades improved, I became an honor roll student and my speech problem slowly subsided.

Skip back to 1994. A few months before the accident, I was finishing up my senior year of high school. I was on track to graduate in the top of my class and head off to college in New Jersey.

It should come as no surprise that I wanted to be an organist. Just a year earlier, I had secured my first organist and choir director job at the age of 17. My path looked clear.

What could possibly go wrong?

My dad came home from work one day and told us were moving to North Carolina. He had a great job with AT&T and he wanted to keep it, and to do so he accepted a job transfer. Me, being the selfish one, was the opposite of happy. I had lived in New Jersey from pre-school through my senior year in high school – it’s all I knew. Bye-bye friends. Bye-bye church job. My parents tried to help.

They set me up to live with a friend so I could stay in New Jersey to finish out high school. But I wasn’t strong enough.

I was emotionally younger than my age, socially awkward, and I did not possess a strong spiritual foundation. I ended up making some bad choices that derailed my opportunity to stay in New Jersey. So off to North Carolina I went to finish out my remaining two months of high school.

After graduation I was lost, I barely knew who I was anymore. I won’t go so far to say that I was suicidal, but I no longer experienced joy in life. The weak foundation I had grown up with had been stripped away, but I wanted it back. So, I drove back to New Jersey

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to try and recapture my old life. I thought if I went back to visit with my friends that I could make everything like it used to be. But, you can’t rewind time. The life I was trying to recreate was like building a sandcastle on the beach; where one small flood of water

could knock it down. Never once did I pray about it, nor was I ever taught to.

I didn’t grow up in the church. My life crumbled because I was trying to build it on my own. I was upset and I had not slept much recently. But, I had to go home. It was on my way back to North Carolina when I fell asleep at the wheel.

After the accident, my dad knew he had to act. I ended up joining the Air Force.

For the next ten years, I did not touch a pipe organ or direct a choir. It was as though God put me in a time out. At first, the military seemed like a horrible idea, but it turned out to be the best thing for me. It transformed me from a spoiled child into a man. I gained confidence, courage and I learned how to lead. I found out what it means to serve, not just this nation, not just the officers appointed over me, but the men and women I worked with. Service means putting others before yourself.

Though I finally acquired my faith while serving in the Armed Forces, something still wasn’t right. Between my Air Force job and my organist job here, I was working a combined total of 70 to 80 hours a week, 6 days a week with little to no vacation time. I maintained this routine for over seven years. I was a

workaholic and time with my family suffered. I was exhausted – physically, mentally, and spiritually. My prayers were selfish, with God placed in the periphery instead of at the center.

During the late Spring of 2014, for a reason I can only sum up as the presence of the Holy Spirit, I started to pray in a new way. My prayers were often like this: “Lord, I don’t want to continue doing this, but if this is what you need me to do, then so be it. Use me as you wish.” It was a prayer of surrender, and I prayed it often. God was patient. He waited until the time was right, and then He called me to serve as your Music Director. I never once asked for this, nor did I believe I was even up to the task. But, when God calls you to do something, you best get busy doing it.

Could those mistakes I made as a teenager have been avoided if I had grown up in the church? Perhaps. But I tell you from personal experience that if we fail to lay a foundation in Christ for ourselves and our children, then the world outside these church walls will.

The world wishes to make us hateful, selfish, envious, vain, consuming, and empty people. The world does not have our best interests at heart. Instead, it desires to hold us captive. The world can’t save us. The politicians can’t save us. Most importantly, we can’t save ourselves! Only through Christ lies our salvation. So, let’s choose to get busy living the life that Christ desires us to have. Saint Matthew even tells us, “…let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:16) And just like that 18-year-old boy that fell asleep on the New Jersey Turnpike, it’s time for all of us to wake up and let our light shine.

Josh Benninger Originally presented to Christ Church on August 21, 2016

MINISTRY Mission

in

Motion

T

GAVIN ROGERS Youth Minister gavinr@cecsa.org

he summer is halfway over and it is flying by! Already our students have been on two summer mission trips and have two more summer trips planned!

Our first trip was to St. Louis where we took an Amtrak train to serve in the Gateway of the West. After arrival, we served three days at the St. Louis Catholic Worker House where we helped transform a family room, planted a garden, packed over 600 sandwiches, and cooked meals for the homeless.

Our kids worked so hard!

After our time at the Catholic Workers House, our students helped a local non-profit pass out resource flyers to 1,500 homes, cooked dinner for a men’s homeless shelter, and served at Americore. I have never seen junior high students do so much service in one week! God used this trip in so many powerful ways. Don’t worry, our kids did get to visit the City Museum, a Cardinals baseball game, and the Gateway Arch!

To see all the Youth Missions, go to: www.facebook.com/pg/cecsayouth/photos

Our college and upper high school students went on our annual international mission trip to Guatemala. While there, our students stayed in local host homes and served in various occupational ministries that included a special needs school, a vet site, a health clinic, an art school, a micro finance site, women’s social work, and an appropriate technology site. The mission of the trip is to “bring students and the poor together crossculturally to encounter God, share the Good News, disciple and serve others in occupational ministries.”

It’s been a great summer so far, and we cannot wait for our high school mission to NYC and our end of summer trip to the Texas Hill Country.

Much Love,

Gavin

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Happy

and

Helping

in

Honduras

A

BRIEN KOEHLER Associate Rector for Mission and Formation brienk@ cecsa.org

t the time of publication, our Honduras Mission Team (Earl and Suzanne Stanley, Ken and Nita Shaver, Val Hoey, Elizabeth and Greg Martinez and the Koehlers) was still hard at work in Honduras. The program for the trip had four main components. First a mid-year “check up” visit with those participating in “Hilos de Dios” (Threads of Blessing in Honduras). Second was a “Training for Trainers” discipleship program for lay leaders in the Copan Deanery. Third, our team taught a Bible School in the afternoons featuring lessons on the friends of Jesus: Matthew, Philip, Mary, and Martha. And fourth, our team worked on three houses that are being built, re-built, or enhanced.

Here are a few highlights of the trip.

Brien Koehler The Shavers working with the Bautista family to build a new concrete block home to replace their one room mud brick house (they have eight children!).

Christ Church is helping fund this project.

More than twenty lay leaders from the churches of the Copan Deanery are being taught a discipleship program called “Training for Trainers” (used worldwide in churches of all types). The program is presented by a team of Honduran trainers who have supported Christ Church’s Honduras ministries for the last three years.

CEC provided the funding for this conference, that was held in the facilities CEC has finished over the last several years.

The “Three Amigos” (Val Hoey, Earl Stanley, and Greg Martinez) outside the house of Pedro Lara, lay leader of the Episcopal Church in Chalmeca, Copan, Honduras. The house has been an unfinished concrete block for about fifteen years, and with the help of Christ Church it is now finished inside and out.

Heeding The Call Duane Miller’s Ordination to the Diaconite on June 29

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Our Church Life...

The Church’s One Foundation....

T

he CEC Archives Committee is busy working to bring our parish history to life. Every three months we will present a new exhibit in the Heritage Room, which is just off the Parish Hall foyer. The first exhibit will open on Sunday, July 9 and be on display until September 30. Be sure to stop by on Sundays to view our “Foundations” exhibit, where you will see photographs of the 1913 ground-breaking and get a glimpse of the minutes from the first vestry meeting.

Are you curious to know the amount of the first rector’s salary? Want to know how much we paid for electricity in 1915? Did you know a bowling alley played an important role in the church’s beginning? You can learn all this and more in the Heritage Room.

Organizing over a century’s worth of historical records is a big undertaking. We are recruiting volunteers to help organize and file papers, design and set up exhibits, and sort bulletins and newsletters. We always need people to help sort and identify photos. If you would like to help with this important project, please contact Lauren Blackwell at (210)488-7196 or blackwellsatx@gmail.com.

Archives Exhibit in the Heritage Room July 9 - September 30

"Foundations" Community

C

ongratulations to the Christ Church Community of Hope class of 2017! Nine people completed the course and were commissioned as lay chaplains on April 2nd. Those commissioned were Louisa Adams, Dr. Richard Albanese, Bob Bell, Joan Buerschinger, Monica Elliott, Janet Francis, Pamela Gray, Oliver Holden, and Marina Lewis. They will assist in the Christ Church pastoral care ministry under the direction of the Rev. Scott Kitayama and Carol Miller.

Class facilitators were Carol Miller, Sudie Holshouser and the Rev. Eric Fenton. The class was enriched by the teaching of experienced lay chaplains Sue Douglas, Maria Wellisch, Doug Gillaspy, and Mary Parker. Clergy instructors were the Revs. Patrick Gahan, Eric Fenton and Rose Ann Felty.

Video presentations were by Brother Michael Gallagher, Dennis Smith, Ann Singley, and Quinton Jones.

Lauren Blackwell

of

Hope Welcomes New Class

Benedictine Spirituality is the foundation for this ministry as it provides a model for disciplined prayer and Christian community that keeps God’s Grace flowing in and through the caregiver.

The class learned how to use the Book of Common Prayer for personal devotions as well as a resource for ministry tools. They discovered how God has uniquely gifted each one for ministry. They also learned practical skills including Active Listening, Coping With Loss, and Care for the Caregiver.

“The Community of Hope’s mission is to help create Christian communities of volunteer lay chaplains united in prayer; shaped by Benedictine spirituality; and equipped for and serving in pastoral care ministries.” The next class will begin in January 2018.

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Our Church Life..

PAGE TURNERS – From

O

n the cover of the novel, Far Bright Star, by Robert Olmstead, is printed A Masterpiece: Minneapolis Star Tribune. The critic up there on the frozen tundra, who curled up in front of the fireplace and read this tale, knew his stuff. This novel is a “masterpiece” by any measure, and I thank Dr. Fred Shockley for sharing it with me. After I read the last paragraph this afternoon, I sat the book on my lap to marvel that a person could construe such artistic prose. Only Cormac McCarthy, with his trilogy, All the Pretty Horses, The Crossing, and Cities on the Plains approximates Olmstead’s meditative mastery of thought and o b s e r v a t i o n . Allow me to give you two previews. The first is right before a violent battle with a force that vastly outnumbers the protagonist, Napoleon’s, scouting party: He could not remember when he stopped hating those who were trying to kill him. After all, he was trying to kill them, too. He abandoned hatred somewhere on the plains of Montana or the jungles of the Philippines. He wasn’t sure, but no matter, it wasn’t good to hate. It always seemed to get in the way of doing the job, always seemed to take more than it ever gave back…

And when Napoleon is driving home to see his father after years of absence due to his continuous mercenary duty: Soon it would be autumn. The thought of autumn light, old light, had come from far away. It was light that was bright and sorrowful and dense and galvanic. It lacquered the world with its brilliance and increased by day, and when the sun set down it left you tired, cold and wanting. He would be home by then. He’d sit on the porch and feel himself not moving.

Seth and Christy Taylor gifted me with On Trails: An Exploration, by thirty-

12

the

Rector’s Book Stack

year-old Robert Moor. Moor, an avid journalist and hiker, writes colorfully and exhaustively about all manner of trails that run through our world.

He begins with his early lark to walk the entire Appalachian Trail, which draws him irrevocably to trails of all size and sorts. In the book, he explores the highly pragmatic and effective pheromone trails of ants, which leads the colony in the most propitious path to food. Moor goes even smaller than that when he examines in remote Newfoundland, the 565 millionyear-old fossil trails making up the “dimmest dawn of animal life.” From the microscopic, he goes next to study the definitive macroscopic trails created by elephants in whichever habitat they are found – wild or corralled in a zoo.

The best part of the book, however, is Moor’s attentiveness to human trail makers and trail followers. At one point, he walks through Winnie, Port Arthur, and Holly Beach, TX with an octogenarian hiker who has traversed the United States more times than a UPS semi.

Although young, Moor understands the allure of the trail and the wilderness to which it promises to lead. While walking with his 80-year-old friend, he muses on the simplicity of life on the trail, “Every morning, the hiker’s options are reduced to two: walk or quit. Once that decision is made, all others (when to eat, where to sleep) begin to fall into place…the newfound freedom from choices comes as an enormous relief.”

That seems reason enough to get outside of our-selves and take a walk.

I loaned this book out twice before I read it myself. If I had only known how honest, enlightening, and utterly gutwrenching Paul Kalanithi’s, When Breath Becomes Air would be for me, I

would have gobbled up every line before I dared let it out of my house. Kalanithi is dying as he writes his book, and he will, in fact, be dead before he can finish it. His wife steps in to offer the final words. A promising neurosurgeon and scientist, Kalanithi develops a virulent strain of lung cancer just as he is about to complete his residency. He dies as his first child turns eight months old.

Never before have I been invited into the mind and heart of another as he prepared to journey through the veil.

What makes Kalanithi’s writing so engaging is his extensive knowledge and love of literature, which stream off the pages from his seemingly bottomless memory.

The literary quality of Kalanithi’s writing is matched by his empirically verified deductions. Therefore, I was astonished when he decided to return to the Christian faith of his childhood, a step he makes – not emotionally – but rather with his exacting eyes wide open: Although I had been raised in a devout Christian family, where prayer and Scripture readings were a nightly ritual, I, like most scientific types, came to believe in the possibility of a material conception of reality, an ultimately scientific worldview that would grant a complete metaphysics without outmoded concepts like souls, God, and bearded white men in robes. I spent a good chunk of my twenties trying to build a frame for such an endeavor. The problem, however, eventually became evident: to make science the arbiter of metaphysics is to banish not only God from the world but also love, hate, meaning—to consider a world that is self-evidently not the world we live in.

I inaugurated my summer reading with a book Kay picked up for me by Kate Atkinson, One Good Turn. I am a devoted fan of this great Scottish novelist. I previously reviewed her WWII book, A

Our Church Life...

PAGE TURNERS – God in Ruins, which was the best work of historical fiction that I have ever read covering the air war to liberate Europe from the Nazis. Atkinson’s strongest trait is her ability to express the inneremotions of her characters. Few equal her facility in that realm.

Like Case Histories, which I read earlier, One Good Turn is a Jackson Brodie detective novel. Brodie breaks

continued

the mold of British detectives. He is not dapper, suave, smooth, dignified, of high birth – or any of those characteristics we’ve come to expect from the Mother Countries. Jackson’s lack of those qualities is what endears him to the reader, even if I find myself wincing at his procession of misadventures. This novel erupts from a traffic confrontation, which draws together a jilted wife, her real estate

magnate husband, a troupe of inept actors, a psychotic killer with a baseball bat, a tormented author, a washed-up comedian, a struggling female police officer, her sulking son, and, of course, Jackson Brodie, who is supposedly on vacation. With such a retinue of characters, you can tell that this is a perfect book for summer!

SOCIETY

Do You Have

a

Plan?

Claire spoke to me on Thursday as she always had: eyebrows up in “high receive” position. She was listening, caring, and serving; the very model of the Daughters of the King that she so proudly was a member. I would always ask her how she was and her response was unfailingly, “I’m still here, so I am blessed!” She was, and now she was no longer here.

A

s I entered the Sanctuary in order to sing for a friend’s memorial service, I heard the news that our dear friend, Claire Levingston, had passed away in her sleep during the night before. I stopped in my tracks in disbelief. She had eaten dinner with the choir on the Thursday before. She had sung with the choir during worship on the previous day. To say that the choir was nearly drowned with grief would be an understatement. But Claire would have been furious had the music not continued.

I wept when I spoke to one of the priests who was choosing the elements of her burial service. As he asked me about some of the things that she might have wanted, I reminded him that she had attended my “Are You Ready to Go?” classes and had taken the paperwork.

He told me that he knew that since the book was at her house, but not one word was written on the pages that would document her estate and design her burial service. I sank in my chair.

funeral plans, and you will feel very satisfied knowing that it will be the way you want and that your children will not have to make decisions for you. It is easier than you think, but you must take the first step! Obtain a form from the Rector’s office, and get the process started.

And while you are there, discuss your plans further about leaving a portion of your estate to the church. Your gift can be in many forms: insurance settlement, investment accounts, trust, and cash. The church needs to know your plans, and we can wait until you no longer have a use for the funds. But since none of us knows the hour, those plans need to be put in place now.

Ferne Burney

How many have congratulated me on that class and then admitted that they still have not completed the paperwork in the book given out at the class? Countless! One thing that the Bible has taught me is that I can plan or not plan, but I cannot know the hour of my death. Planning is easy, the church office will file and protect your

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OF EVENTS July 1:

The Well Sidewalk Saturday, 9:30 - 11:30 AM, Carriage House

July 2:

4th of July BBQ Luncheon, 12:30 PM in the Parish Hall

July 2-10:

Adult Mission to Honduras

July 3:

Church office closed

July 4:

Independence Day, church office closed

July 5:

The Well Dinner at the Reeves home, 6 PM

July 6:

Women’s Summer Bible Study begins, 10 AM in the Parish Hall

July 9:

Archives Exhibit “Foundations” opens in the Heritage Room

July 12: Wednesday Evening - Invitation to a Journey begins, 7 - 8:30 PM

in the Parish Hall

Christ Church Staff: The Rev. Patrick Gahan, Rector patrickg@cecsa.org The Rev. Scott Kitayama, Associate Rector, scottk@cecsa.org The Rev. Brien Koehler, Associate Rector for Mission and Formation, brienk@cecsa.org The Rev. Rob Harris, Associate Rector for Community Formation, robh@cecsa.org Carol Miller, Pastoral Care Administrator, carolm@cecsa.org Halleta Heinrich, Director of Family Ministry, halletah@cecsa.org

July 13:

Women’s Summer Bible Study, 10 AM in the Parish Hall

July 16:

Noisy Offering and Food Pantry Offering, 9 & 11 AM Third Sunday Lunch Bunch, 12:30 PM at Order Up

July 17-24:

Youth Mission Trip to New York City

Gavin Rogers, Youth Minister gavinr@cecsa.org

July 18:

Kitchen Safety Class, 10 AM

Joshua Benninger, Music Minister & Organist, joshb@cecsa.org

July 20:

Women’s Summer Bible Study, 10 AM in the Parish Hall

July 20-23:

Short FUSE to Mission Waco

July 27:

Women’s Summer Bible Study, 10 AM in the Parish Hall The Well Summer Dance at the Pearl Stables, 5:30 PM

July 29: Ordination of Bishop Suffragan-Elect, the Rev. Jennifer Brooke-

Davidson, 11 AM in the Sanctuary August 5:

The Well Sidewalk Saturday, 9:30 - 11:30 AM, Carriage House

August 11-13: Youth Lake Days Retreat August 11-12: Pathways to Hope Conference at the Tobin Center August 13:

Noisy Offering and Food Pantry Offering, 9 & 11 AM Third Sunday Lunch Bunch, 12:30 PM at Order Up

August 20:

Rally Day - Service and Blessing of the Backpacks at 10 AM Open House at 11 AM Rally Day Picnic, 12 PM

August 27:

Fall Sunday School Begins, 10 AM

August 31:

The Well Summer Dance at the Pearl Stables, 5:30 PM

September 1-4: Family Camp at Mustang Island with the Harris Family September 4:

Labor Day, church offices closed

September 10: The Well Sunday Brunch, 12:30 PM in the Parish Hall

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Lily Fenton, Nursery Director lilyf@cecsa.org

Ruth Berg, Director of Children’s Music, ruthb@cecsa.org Robert Hanley, Parish Administrator parishadmin@cecsa.org Darla Nelson, Office Manager darlan@cecsa.org Donna Shreve, Financial Manager donnas@cecsa.org Gretchen Comuzzi Duggan, Director of Communications, gretchend@cecsa.org Anna Jewell, Executive Assistant to the Rector, annaj@cecsa.org Donnis Carpenter, Receptionist donnisc@cecsa.org Elizabeth Martinez, Kitchen Manager elizabethm@cecsa.org Robert Vallejo, Facilities Manager robertv@cecsa.org Rudy Segovia, Hospitality Manager rudys@cecsa.org Joe Garcia, Sexton joeg@cecsa.org

ALBUM

15

St Louis Mission Trip - they had a ball

The Message (USPS 471-710) is published bi-monthly by Christ Episcopal Church, 510 Belknap Place, San Antonio, TX 78212. Periodical postage paid in San Antonio, TX. Postmaster: Please send address changes to Christ Episcopal Church, 510 Belknap Place, San Antonio, TX 78212. Volume 19, Number 4.

Periodical Postage PAID San Antonio, TX Christ Episcopal Church 510 Belknap Place San Antonio, TX 78212 www.cecsa.org