May 2021 • Volume 23, Number 3
Walking With God: 3 Music as Medicine: 7 A Psalm of Praise: 10 A Few Good Books 12
The Message this month: Contents:
Contributors:
Christ Church Staff: The Rev. Patrick Gahan, Rector
From Our Rector ..............................3
The Rev. Scott Kitayama, Associate Rector
Music Ministry ................................7
The Rev. Brien Koehler, Associate Rector for Mission and Formation
Family Ministry ...............................9
The Rev. Justin Lindstrom, Associate Rector for Community Formation
Youth Ministry ...............................10 Kitchen Ministry ............................11
Karen Von Der Bruegge, Director of Vocational Discernment and Pastoral Care
PATRICK GAHAN
Page Turners...................................12
Halleta Heinrich, Director of Family Ministry
Great Commission...........................14
Lily Fenton, Nursery Director Amy Case, Youth Minister
Photo Album...................................15
Susan Lindstrom, Director of College Ministry JOSH BENNINGER
Front Cover photo: Susanna Kitayama
Joshua Benninger, Music Minister & Organist
Easter Egg Hunt
Jennifer Holloway, Assistant Music Director, Director of Children’s Music & Social Media Manager
Children’s Sunday School Fiesta Party
Charissa Fenton, Receptionist
Editor: Gretchen Duggan
Robert Hanley, Director of Campus Operations
Back Cover photo: Anne Aderhold
Live Stream Services: www.cecsa.org/live-stream
Darla Nelson, Office Manager
HALLETA HEINRICH
Donna Franco, Financial Manager Gretchen Comuzzi Duggan, Director of Communications
9:00 & 11:00 a.m. Sundays 11:00 a.m. Wednesdays
Monica Elliott, Executive Assistant to the Rector
In Person Services: Sunday 9:00 a.m. on the lawn 11:00 a.m. in the church Holy Eucharist, Rite II
AMY CASE
Robert Vallejo, Facilities Manager Rudy Segovia, Hospitality Manager Joe Garcia, Sexton
Sunday School 10:00 a.m. outside on the grounds Christian Education, Small groups and Bible studies for Children, Youth, and Adults are offered in person on Sunday and via Zoom
2021 Vestry:
ELIZABETH MARTINEZ
Andy Anderson, Senior Warden Margaret Pape, Junior Warden Lisa Blonkvist
Visit us on-line at www.cecsa.org
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Andy Kerr
Catherine de Marigny David McArthur
Follow us:
facebook.com/ChristChurchSATX @christchurchsatx @cecSATX
Elizabeth Martinez, Kitchen Manager
DON FROST
Meagan Desbrow
Lisa Miller
Rick Foster
Garry Schnelzer
Tobin Hays
Garnett Wietbrock
Walking Free:
Eternity, Salvation, Grace & Belief by Patrick Gahan
Walking on the beach brings me down
to earth. If I look up into the great maw of the horizon, I feel no bigger than the shells scattered along the sand. If I look down, the hermit crabs and the sandpipers dance with the encroaching waves and the laughing gulls poke amongst the dead fish drying on the shore. Looking across the beach, college students sunbathe in various modes of dress and undress, while retirees, armored in Lycra and puffer coats, march along the sea in the same paths they took the day before. Walking on the beach amid this assorted assembly of critters and people, I realize I am part of the dance between life and death. I don’t always look up or down but instead go inward so that my life ebbs and flows in the theater of my mind. Like prayer that attaches itself to my breathing, walking affixes to my heartbeat, and I am thrust forward as a transitory pilgrim in this world. “Take the dog and go for a walk in the woods,” my mother insisted even before I entered first grade at Edgewood Elementary. A large pinewood forest
abutted our home, and I would take Lady, our black, gray and white German Shepherd, and stride out the back door. I don’t know how far I would actually go. With my squatty legs and fear of the darker passages through the trees, I doubt I ambled much further than a hundred yards from home. No matter, as soon as I returned, Mother would pacify my twin brother and sister, find a place at the kitchen table, and insist I sit beside her and report everything I saw and heard in the forest. No leaf, toad, bug, bird’s song, or creek crossing would be omitted. The smallest facts seemed to enchant her, and so they did me. I lost my idyllic corner of forest when my parents hit the first rapids in their marriage. We moved into the Blair Village housing project outside of Atlanta midway through my 3rd grade year. Today, a “Blair Village Survivors” site pops up first on a Google search, a discovery that hardly surprised me. Two-bedroom, red brick apartments, dirt front yards, dirt backyards, brown rusted clothesline poles, and gray asphalt as far as my young eyes could see comprised the “village.” I had to fight the three boys in our apartment
wing – Roy, Ray, and their big brother Harold – to earn a seat on the school bus. Mother was beaten literally to the ground by a crazed neighbor woman wielding a mop handle. Gone was the peaceful pine forest next door, replaced by a neighborhood resembling a prison cell block. Undeterred, Mother insisted that I walk in search of the new adventures that were waiting for me to discover. So, Roy, Ray, Harold, and I, relishing our hardfought alliance, headed east until we found a massive cut in the hectares of hardscape surrounding the projects. Unbeknownst to us urchins, we had stumbled upon the fresh excavation for Interstate 85. We made it our playground, executing a series of harrowing slides down the 100-foot embankments, and ripping the backsides out of our blue jeans. Our feet had taken us to a magical place, and our quartet would walk in search of more. Mother hemorrhaged with the birth of my youngest brother Gene, her fourth. My father, adrift in a drunken slumber, came close to letting her bleed to death in that suffocating apartment, a premonition of what was to come. Alcohol and violence had bled all the life from their marriage. 3
From Our Rector... I was the oldest of the four, and I cringed every time my father framed the door. Desperate to save the marriage, we moved from the projects into a split-level home in one of the sprawling new neighborhoods in northeast Atlanta. In less than a year, though, my father was arrested for wrapping a telephone cord around my mother’s neck, threatening to strangle her in front of his four children and half the neighbors. My aunt Florence rescued us and deposited all five Gahans at my grandparents’ one-bedroom apartment on Oxmoor Road in Birmingham, which would remain my permanent address until I completed military service.
the distance was that I get up earlier and start walking.
I started 5th grade at Shades Cahaba Elementary, where I would meet Kay at the beginning of the next school year. My grandmother, entrenched in the Protestant work ethic, insisted everyone in the 800 square foot apartment have a job, except for my grandfather, who somehow wheedled an exemption. The waiver gave him no pause, however, in his determination to obtain me suitable employment. At eleven, I was tall for my age, such that Granddaddy was certain I could pass as a 14-year-old, the minimum age to acquire a Worker’s Permit in Alabama. He proudly wrangled me a job operating a tractor on a golf course driving range. Predictably, I drove the John Deere right through the fence on my very first outing. I kept the job for the entire summer, although I was prohibited from further driving duties.
Like prayer that attaches itself to my breathing, walking affixes to my heartbeat, and I am
Granddaddy exulted in procuring me employment, even as he sat in the apartment sipping coffee from a Blue Willow china cup laden with Kentucky bourbon. The golf course was the first in a succession of laboring enterprises he arranged for me. I was put to work in a peach orchard, washing storefront windows, and delivering newspapers. The challenge was not so much the work itself but getting to the job site. The newspaper office was a few blocks away, whereas the golf course was three and a half miles distant, and the orchard was over five. Sympathy did not reside at 1908 Oxmoor Road, Apt. C. Grandmother’s remedy for 4
Walking, I came to learn, spelled freedom for me. Set upon my two feet, I could get most anywhere. I did not dream of automobiles. My family would not have one until I was a senior in high school, when Mother risked a second foray in Holy Matrimony. My grandmother, on the other hand, never operated a car. She walked to and from Birmingham Heating and Air Conditioning Co. for 26 years. To go shopping or see the doctor, she took the city bus. All Saints’ Episcopal Church was a mile from the house, and she was up and
thrust forward as a transitory pilgrim in this world.
out the door by 6:30 a.m. every Sunday to the make the 7:00 Eucharist, an easy walk. Emulating her, I felt certain that I could strike off walking from Alabama to Alaska if need be. Walking sets me in the company of those who strode off before me. Three or so million years ago, my ancestor, Homo Erectus, stood up straight for the first time, took to his feet, and sallied out of Africa. Closer to home is my ancestor Abraham, who, a brief four millennia ago, walked out of Ur, in present day Iraq, and kept walking for about 1,700 miles until he reached Canaan, the strange new land to which God called him. Even after arriving, Abraham did not stop walking. He traversed the 6,000 square miles of Canaan, feeding and watering his livestock and seeking a place to call his own. Abraham’s story is down to earth, sometimes uncomfortably so. The God of Abraham disappoints any of us looking for divine initiative that operates well above the blighted pathways of human beings. Abraham’s life is messy, and his headstrong enterprises make it messier
still. Nevertheless, he is the father of our faith, though his faith walk is a circuitous one. Assessing my own walk, I consider Abraham’s story Good News. If God did not give up on him, I trust He’ll walk along with me. Trotting through the pages of Genesis, any efforts to sanitize Abraham look fabricated, if not silly. He lies when it suits him, pawns his wife off as his sister to powerful paramours, he fathers a baby out of wedlock, and exiles the mother and child to an almost certain death. That’s just Abraham. His wife Sarah is not squeaky clean and certainly neither is his nephew Lot, who rambles through Canaan with the first couple. The road they walk has a number of twists and turns and not a few treacherous switchbacks. It is on that hard road that they repeatedly encounter God. The road is long and rife with detours and dead ends. Nothing in Abraham’s story is idealized. Unmistakably human and set on the hardscrabble road of real life, we see ourselves in Abraham’s story. The writer of Hebrews reflects on that fact a thousand years later, ‘For surely it is not the angels Christ helps, but he is concerned with the descendants of Abraham’ (Hebrews 2:16). If our lives were recorded in the Bible, we’d look no better than the Genesis gang. Looking further back is the first man, Adam, who is formed out of the sticky mud and clay in Eden’s front yard. “Adam,” in fact, means the “earth man” or the “mud man” (adamah = land, ground, soil). While Abraham is Adamredux, he is still made of dirt. I read the Bible and sit back in amazement that God would concern himself with Abraham’s crew, and then my amazement accelerates when I consider God continues to involve Himself with all of us bags of dirt down here. My amazement turns to stupor when I realize that God does not just attend to us dirtbags but becomes dirt Himself. This remarkable fact is again declared by the author of Hebrews: Since (God’s) children are made of flesh and blood, it’s logical that the Savior took on flesh and blood in order to rescue them by his death… that’s why (Christ) had to enter
From Our Rector... every detail of human life. Then, when he came before God as high priest to get rid of the people’s sins, he would have experienced it all himself – all the pain, all the testing… Hebrews 2:14-18 Message I’m no angel, but strictly speaking, neither is Christ. He gets down and dirty in order to walk with me, know me, and save me. For that reason, we sometimes say Christ is the “sacrament” of God, meaning that his physical embodiment as an earthbound human reveals God’s eternal character. Christ shows us that God doesn’t sit back in his heavenly Barcalounger throwing thunderbolts to grab the attention of his human creation. Instead, Christ’s incarnation, his becoming a flesh, blood, and dirt human being, demonstrates God’s involvement with us. Looked at this way, salvation is a lengthy journey and an immensely personal one. Why is that so? Because the incarnation, God becoming a human being in Jesus Christ, discloses that God desires to walk with us. We realize that God is personally leading
Christ’s incarnation, his becoming a flesh, blood, and dirt human being, demonstrates God’s involvement with us.... the incarnation, God becoming a human being in Jesus Christ, discloses that God desires to walk with us. us to a better place than where we first encountered Him, no matter how intensely we experienced that first encounter. For example, Abraham was 75 years-old when he initially set foot in the Promised Land and 175 on the day he died (Genesis 12:4; 25:7). The Bible emphasizes that Abraham walked with God for a very long time, and, in fact, it was not until the very end of his life that he had a single clump of ground to call his own (Genesis 23:1718). Abraham has been on the move with God, in a procession of ups and downs, for 100 years. We call him the father of
our faith because God will gradually transform the earthly course of our lives as He did for Abraham. Our ultimate destiny is revealed during our lifelong walk with God, which is incalculably more satisfying than a moment of enlightenment. in•car•na•tion – God’s personal involvement with us The simple act of walking connects my feet to the ground, reminding me that I am an earthbound creature and constrained by my finitude. Nevertheless, I am continually stepping toward a deeper relationship with God. I may be dirt, but I am a clump of dirt connected to eternity. The miraculous promise of “eternal life” is not only that I will endure but that I will participate in God’s life and purpose now and in the future. We are finite creatures who are drawn more and more into the Infinite as we walk with Him. Once more, the writer of Hebrews understands Abraham’s centenary pilgrimage in this way: By faith, Abraham sojourned in the land of promise as in a foreign land, living in tents… For he looked forward to the city which has foundations, whose builder and maker is God (Hebrews 11:9-10). Abraham’s journey was inward as much as it was outward. God gradually outfitted him for eternity. Our march into that city whose builder and maker is God will steadily conform us into God’s image and equip us for His purposes. e•ter•nal life – participation in God’s life and purpose beginning in the present Modern Christians are quick to narrow the meaning of eternal life to unending days. For my part, living forever in an arrested spiritual state seems more like hell. Actually, eternal life means an increasing understanding of God’s plan for us and our increasing willingness to walk in the way He reveals to us. God saves us and frees us to walk with Him during all of our earthbound days, so at life’s end, heaven will feel like home. Surely, this is what Catherine of Siena (1347-1380) had in mind when she said, “All the way to heaven is heaven, because Christ is the
way.” Even amongst the earliest Christians, Paul ran headlong into a shrunken understanding of our relationship with God. Paul encapsulates the power of grace for the young Church, ‘God shows his love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us’ (Romans 5:8). This foundational verse of the New Testament is seemingly misconstrued by his listeners to encourage uninhibited, libertine reveling. “If God is certain to save sinners,” they assumed, “let’s give Him plenty to work with!” Paul is horrified by the misunderstanding and quickly counters, ‘We were buried with Christ by baptism into his death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life’ (Romans 6:4). Paul wants these new Christians to walk in freedom. Sin, the siren call of our fallen nature, vies to enslave and constrain us. Masquerading as liberty, sin is winsomely beguiling in its promises to give us our heart’s desire, even as it constructs an airless prison around us. God, through Christ, rescues us from ultimate destruction, but also delivers us from the tyranny of self. sal•va•tion – God’s rescue from ultimate destruction and the tyranny of self The intrepid journey leading us away from slavery to freedom consumes Paul. Operating in an environment inhospitable to the Gospel, Paul knows that certain powers outside of us can threaten our freedom. The long reach of the state, the derision of neighbors, the enticements of friends, the cancel culture, and the consumer culture are all formidable powers that strive to make us their slaves in every age. More powerful still is the battle against sin that is waged within us and the empty assurances of misguided religion, or what Paul derides as “the law.” Paul warns us that the law is very appealing, for it promises if we carefully line up our lives with the commandments, we will be free. Elbow grease is the key to unlocking the door. This is a hopeless pursuit slamming the door to freedom tighter than ever because it depends 5
From Our Rector... solely on an individual’s effort. Illustrating the futility of our solo stab at holiness, Paul troops out Abraham’s two sons, Ishmael and Isaac, whose births he uses as an allegory to ask us whether we want to be free or remain slaves.1 To be clear, allegory is a literary tool that uses characters, places, and events to symbolize people and events. Allegory magnifies characters and extends metaphors to drive home Biblical truths more powerfully. Take for example, The Parable of the Sower. The “seed” is an extended metaphor that symbolizes God’s Word and our response to it (Matthew 13:3-23). Also consider how Jesus is called the “Lamb of God”, a graphic symbol designating him as the perfect sacrifice for our sins (John 1:29; Revelation 12:11). An inanimate seed bursts into life when planted in receptive soil. An unblemished lamb reaches back into the Exodus story as evidence of God’s unceasing determination to liberate us. Allegory is used by Christian authors, as well. Consider J.R.R. Tolkien’s reluctant heroes Bilbo and Frodo Baggins. The arduous pilgrimages of these two Hobbits symbolize the journeys that wrests Christians out of our comfort in order to challenge the darkness both outside and inside of us.2 Illumination comes to those who walk in faith.
Paul explains that Ishmael, the son of the slave woman, symbolizes the law given through Moses.4 The law is a good gift, Paul insists, for it reveals the character of God and His desire that we live in an ongoing relationship, a covenant of obedience, with Him who frees us.5 The problem with the law is how we have misused the gift. Simply stated, the law can point out our sin, but it lacks any power to save us.6 This is far more illustrative of our experience than we care to admit. When we come to recognize the sin encroaching on our life and grapple to eliminate it, the worse it gets. Like struggling in quicksand, the more we strive to free ourselves, the deeper we sink. To illustrate this fact, Paul confesses his wrenching wrestling match with sin: ‘I do not understand my own actions, for I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate’ (Romans 7:15). We human beings have misused the law, making it the mother of our faith and thereby have become a slave to it. We doggedly adhere to the fantasy that given enough time and sweat we can overcome sin and heal ourselves.
Striving to intensify his warning that our dogged adherence to the law will not free us but rather enslave us, Paul declares that because the elder son, Ishmael, was born of a slave, he cannot receive Abraham’s inheritance.3 Ishmael is not the heir. On the other hand, the younger son, Isaac, born of his wife Sarah, a free woman, is the rightful heir and will receive Abraham’s inheritance. Admittedly, this is a confusing, antiquated allegory for us moderns to digest. We can take solace in the fact that this episode from the Hebrew Scriptures was no easier for the Gentiles, those non-Jewish persons who made up the largest part of Paul’s churches. Nevertheless, Paul’s lesson is essential if we want to walk in freedom.
invites us to entrust ourselves
1 Galatians 4:21-31 2 “Is There Allegory in the Bible?”, https://www.compellingtruth.org/Bible-allegory.html 3 Paul is not casting disparaging remarks about Ishmael here. His uses the story as an allegory to emphasize a life of freedom in Christ over slavery to sin.
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Through grace – not through coercion, fear, or any measure of our own enterprise – God to
His love epitomized in the actions of Christ
To dispel our illusion of self-sufficiency, Paul trots out Isaac, the son of the free woman. Isaac stands for the new life God gives us through His Son, Jesus Christ. Sin is decisively crushed by Christ’s death on the cross; its power is broken by his humble sacrifice. Loving surrender to Christ’s sacrificial gift instead of elbow grease carries the day. This is the most conclusive demonstration of God’s love for us, a gift that is completely unmerited on our part; hence, it is known as grace. Through grace – not through coercion, fear, or any measure of our own enterprise 4 Exodus 19:1-20:21 5 Romans 7:12; Exodus 20:2 6 Galatians 3:21-22
– God invites us to entrust ourselves to His love epitomized in the actions of Christ. This is what it means to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ: forsaking our own cleverness and muscle, we depend completely on his mercy.7 Grace is our true mother, because it gives birth to our relationship with God. No longer thrashing about in the quicksand, we are reborn as free persons, heirs who walk in newness of life with Him. This is not some new plan or strategy from God. Read Genesis, Exodus, Deuteronomy, the Psalms, any of the prophets and you will see that God has always desired an enduring relationship of love and trust with His flesh and blood creation.8 Then as now, we resist His advances and find ourselves in a prison of our own making. In a supreme exercise of twisted irony, we repeatedly attempt to free ourselves using the same methods that led to our enslavement. To this Paul insists, ‘For freedom Christ has set us free; stand fast therefore, and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery’ (Galatians 5:1). Do not submit to the same tired methods that landed us in prison in the first place. God’s persistent promise is that His love alone will remake us. To humbly walk in a trusting relationship with Him is the only road to freedom. grace – to be set free by the love of God When I have been foolish enough to depart that road, I have chained myself to selfish, sinful desires, like a dog staked in the forlorn yard of a tenement, forgotten, and left to do nothing but walk in circles of dust. How foolish I have been to abandon God’s gift of grace for life on a chain. Christ’s crucifixion unchains us, and his resurrection leads us into a broad open space where the horizon is limitless – like a view from the beach. This is our first glimpse of eternal life. No longer enslaved, our present life is boundless and awash with opportunity. One of the most startling discoveries of the new life of grace is how our relationships change with other flesh and blood human beings, 7 John 6:29; Romans 10:9 8 Genesis 17:7; Exodus 19:5; Deuteronomy 7:9; Psalm 103:17-18; Isaiah 49:15; Jeremiah 31:3; Ezekiel 16:8; Hosea 11:1-8; Zechariah 2:8 – to name a few!
From Our Rector... which is where we formerly exhibited our most selfish and destructive sin. The gift of grace that frees us gradually transforms us to become like the giver of grace himself, Jesus Christ. These words that we’ve become accustomed to hearing at worship before the Offering are actually Paul’s description of the new life of grace: Walk in love as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God (Ephesians 5:2). Step by step we become more like Christ once we entrust our life to God. be•lieve – to entrust our life to God and walk with Him Sad that it was time to pack up and leave our paradisaical beach retreat that was so lovingly provided by Walter and Katherine Brown, Kay insisted we trek over to the
other side of the island to visit the bird sanctuary. I did not expect the rich array we encountered. A company of black terns dotted the beach, a shy quartet of mottled ducks frantically paddled through the water to the far side, and white pelicans crowded neck to neck, wing to wing on a tiny peninsula. The Neotropic cormorants ignored us and persisted with their determined fishing, while black-necked stilts and the short-billed dowitchers fished from the shore. Most fascinating were the rosette spoonbills gathered all together on a promontory almost out of our sight, but whose gaudy feathers of pink and white made them look like a gaggle of young schoolgirls on a sleepover. Some of the birds will remain on the island, but most are just passing through, sharing their beauty with us as they go along.
Then, as we reluctantly turned to go, a young male white pelican riotously splashed away from the crowded peninsula and began dancing on his broad webbed feet atop the water. Wings flapping, he moved side to side like a comedic actor in a vaudeville play, and all the while squawking out a high-pitched song. No doubt he was lost in the throes of courtship, but Kay and I imagined he was dancing for us, a goodbye reminder of who we really are, lest we forget on the hard scape of the daily grind. Perhaps he was telling us that we, like the birds, are just passing through this mortal life, sharing our beauty as we make our way. Walking this long road with God, I’m constantly amazed what He can do with clumps of dirt.
“We’re calling about your car warranty…” Music Ministry by Josh Benninger
Wouldn’t it be delightful if God was on the other end of the phone line instead of the car warranty people? While he
probably won’t pick up a phone and dial our digits, God does communicate with us in a myriad of ways to include prayer, other people, sermons, nature, and scripture. I would also postulate that God speaks to us through music––from the hymns we belt out to our favorite Apple Music and Spotify tracks we hold dear and download. Pointing to my life, as an
illustration, God drew me closer to him, expressed his love, and came to my aid through music. No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him, and I will raise them up at the last day. – John 6:44 Pipe organs were spellbinding, and 7
Music Ministry... Fast forward to the present day, Emily and I compose songs together and listen to film scores on car rides. She and I are partial to John Williams, both of us frequently and loudly hum the theme to Jurassic Park, much to my wife’s annoyance. It’s a shared passion between us, a love for each other expressed through our mutual longing for dramatic melodies and epic chord progressions. I’m confident it’s no coincidence that God bestowed it on both of us.
unbeknownst to me, God hijacked my fascination with them for his purposes. In the summer of 1992, I’d surmise I was the only teenager who bruised his fists by knocking on every church door in the small town of Basking Ridge, New Jersey. I had one request for whoever answered: can I play on the pipe organ? St. Mark’s Episcopal was the only church that welcomed me in––yes, even the Methodists said no! After gaining mastery over Bach and Buxtehude, I filled in as the substitute organist over the next two years. Eventually, I began to see beyond the notes on the page and the keys on the keyboard– –I was onboarded into a new kingdom. The scripture readings, sermons, prayers, and hymn singing introduced me to God, which changed my life forever. And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. – 1 John 4:13-16 Emily is the author of my greatest joy, and God channels his love through her. My daughter mastered walking by enlisting pieces of furniture throughout the house to steady her, the piano being her favorite. Whenever I played the piano, she would be right there, her chubby baby fingers fumbling over the keys next to mine. 8
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. – Psalm 46:1 I am not frustrated with God; quite the opposite because he interceded when I needed it most. Had I not perceived the warning symptoms, I would not have visited my doctor and probably would have died from advanced prostate cancer within a year. It felt like God tapped me on the shoulder and whispered, “Hey Josh, there might be something wrong with you.” He spoke to Deana too, for she told me to get checked out––and a smart husband listens to his wife! Driving home from my MRI two weeks
later, even though I didn’t know the results yet, deep down, I knew. I beckoned Siri to play the third movement from Dimitri Shostakovich’s fifth symphony. Marked Largo (slowly), Dimitri gave us what is essentially a requiem performed by shimmering strings. I have a history of leaning into his music under challenging times. But listening to it this time was different; the theme was sweeter, more tender. Every note that drifted into my ear, especially the lonely oboe solo, landed in the deep roots of my soul. The music’s beauty encapsulated my raw emotions and granted me peace, God’s peace. Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. – Colossians 3:16 With the hunger to play the pipe organ, a shared father-daughter interest in music, and the desperate need for harmony in difficult times, God connected with me in manifold ways through music. I encourage you to smash the pause button and consider your own life. Go ahead, scribble down the titles of songs and hymns that have strengthened your relationship with God. Then, share them with me if you’d like. And finally, if those car warranty people call you again, hang up and click the play button of your favorite music track. Don’t stop listening.
Hope DOES Spring Eternal CEC Family Ministry by Halleta Heinrich
This summer’s Vacation Bible School
theme “Wilderness Escape - Where God Guides and Provides” certainly fits our times! This was supposed to be our VBS for last summer but was shut down along with much more due to safety precautions concerning the pandemic. It seems that we are coming out of the wilderness and into the Promised Land which we now know as “Normal” or close to it. Our VBS is based on the story recorded in Exodus of Moses leading God’s people out of slavery in Egypt and into the wilderness for forty years with the hope of the Promised Land drawing them forward. God guided and
provided for them in this difficult journey just as he does for all of us in good times and bad. This Spring has brought signs that we are entering the Promised Land here at Christ Church. We had a joyful Easter Egg Hunt on Easter Sunday with happy children running across our beautiful lawns. Then, the next weekend, we held a Children’s Communion Retreat filled with many children and very helpful moms. The following day, we had our Children’s Communion Celebration during the 9 a.m. outdoor service. It was a beautiful thing to see our Communion Class children receiving the Communion bread and distributing it to their families. Thank you, Justin, for that wonderful idea. The children were so honored to do this!
Both the Easter Egg Hunt and Communion Celebration were called off last year, and that was a disappointment. But God provided us with patience and perseverance as we planned and held these events this Spring. They were different from before, but maybe even better. I believe we may have appreciated these events even more than before, because of last year’s delay. It looks like we are getting back to “Normal,” but maybe our “New Normal” will be even better than before because of our gratitude for God’s guidance and provision as he has led us through our own wilderness and into the “Promised Land” of normalcy or something even better! Love, Halleta
CEC VBS 2021 June 21 - 24 9 a.m. - 12 p.m. www.cecsa.org/vbs
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A Psalm of Praise
Youth Ministry by Amy Case
Christ Church Youth Ministry has enjoyed our time under the trees on Sunday mornings this semester studying the Baptismal Covenant. We have averaged approximately 25 youths each Sunday where we engage in fellowship, games, and Bible study. As part of this study, the 6th12th grade youth of CEC wrote this psalm together.
Psalm by the Youth of Christ Church O God, you have taught me since I was young, and to this day I tell of your wonderful works Thank you for your guidance and support I am grateful for your love and warmth We care for others despite their differences God is good Thank you, God Thank you for always watching over us Thank you for forgiving our sins O God, you have taught me since I was young, and to this day I tell of your wonderful works Lord, you are my compass I could never see you, but you have always been protecting and watching over me I am thankful for all of the beautiful trees that give us the fresh air we breathe I am grateful for all you have given me O God, you have taught me since I was young, and to this day I tell of your wonderful works I am thankful I am grateful for all you have done I give praise for the life you have given I am thankful for your power I am thankful for my siblings I could sing of your love forever I am thankful O God, you have taught me since I was young, and to this day I tell of your wonderful works You have guided me through emotional turmoil You have strengthened me with heart and will O God, thank you for the world Thank you, Lord, for hosting me in this world The Lord is loving and caring Amen. February 2021
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Add a Pinch of Patience CEC Kitchen Ministry by Elizabeth Martinez
Just have a little faith, a little patience
and soon the hallways of the church, administrative building, the Parish Hall, and best of all the CEC Kitchen, will be filled with laughter, praises, and people our loving parishioners and guests! Soon our doors will open at 100% and the kitchen ministry will start to prep, cook, and feed on Wednesday evenings, Sunday morning breakfast, and even Thursday men’s breakfast. As the kitchen starts to open, kitchen ministers (volunteers) can sign up to volunteer for events requesting lunch or dinner time slots. If you are interested, contact Elizabeth Martinez to receive the sign-up link. There you can sign-up to help with events. But for now, have a little faith and patience... Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Romans 12:12
Each week the Soup Ministry cooks up delicious soups for those in need of a hot soup meal. Enjoy this delicious and comforting soup that Soup Ministry coordinator Monica Elliott cooked up!
This recipe and others will be added to the upcoming new Christ Church cookbook. Do not forget to send in your delicious recipes to Elizabeth Martinez at elizabethm@cecsa.org
Sonora Cheese Soup (a Pati Jinich recipe) 3 Tbsp. canola or safflower oil 1 to 1 ¼ lbs. potatoes, about 4 mediums or 3 cups, peeled and diced 1 ½ cup chopped white onions 1 ripe medium-sized tomato, cored and diced without discarding seeds and juice 4 fresh Anaheim or poblano chilies, about 1 pound, charred or roasted, sweated, peeled, seeded, and cut into strips ¾ tsp. kosher or sea salt, or to taste 4 cups homemade chicken broth 2 cups milk ½ lb. queso regional fresco de Sonora, or queso fresco To prepare: heat the oil over medium heat in a large, heavy soup pot. When hot, add the potatoes and onions and cook, stirring often, until the onions are soft and translucent about 4 to 5 minutes. Add the tomato, prepared Anaheim or poblano chilies, and salt, and cook until the ingredients are softened, 4 to 5 minutes more. Add the chicken broth, bring to a simmer, and cook for 10 minutes, or until the potatoes are completely tender and the broth has thickened a bit. Taste and adjust salt. Reduce the heat to medium-low, slowly add the milk and bring back to a gentle simmer. Gradually crumble the cheese into the simmering soup and stir until cheese is completely melted – or serve in bowls with cubes of the cheese in the bowls, adding the soup on top. Taste again for salt and serve hot. Serves 6 to 8.
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PAGE TURNERS – From the Rector’s Book Stack When I read
John Grisham’s quote on the cover of a Christian book espousing, “A remarkable memoir… Riveting,” I expected this would be a bracing autobiography of faith. My estimates were far too low. Consumed by Hate – Redeemed by Love: How a Violent Klansman Became a Champion of Racial Reconciliation, by Thomas A. Tarrants is the most exciting, eyeopening, miraculous Christian memoir I’ve read since David Wilkerson’s The Cross and the Switchblade forty years ago. Tarrants’s book is breathless from the very first page when he is placing a bomb in a prominent Jewish businessman’s home in Meridian, MS. Accompanied by a young, female elementary school teacher, the two are set on their course and insistent that the “Cause” (a favorite Klan term) is righteous. His accomplice is gunned down by authorities and dies in the street, while Tarrants is sent to Mississippi’s notorious Parchman Prison. Sometime later, after a carefully Klan supported escape eventually fails and another accomplice of Tarrants’s is killed in a hail of gunfire, he is sent to the maximum-security section of Parchman. The isolation was suffocating him until he started reading philosophy – everything from Plato, to Aristotle, to Kant, Hume, and Kierkegaard. His reading eventually led him to the Bible, and his life of hate and his devotion to the “Cause” was replaced by his commitment to Christ and his love of all people. “Miraculous” is far too tame a term to describe the change in Tarrants. Once released from prison, he goes on to pastor a multi-racial parish in Washington, DC and eventually to lead the C.S. Lewis Institute in McLean, VA for twenty-one years. I must add here that Tarrants’s conversion to Christ also unveils a new understanding of himself, which led him towards a quieter, more grounded life than many anticipated. Thus, when asked 12
if a film could be made about his life, he refused the offer without regret. This book reminds me that Jesus Christ is in the transformation business, and if he can take on a man as soaked in evil as Tarrants, he can certainly tune my heart to him, reshape me for his purposes, and lead me towards greater authenticity. Jack, by Marilynne Robinson begins in a cemetery and keeps the reader there for the first two hours. Having read all of Robinson’s previous novels, I should have been more prepared. A Pulitzer Prize winner, a John Calvin scholar, and a tireless essayist, Robinson uses Biblical imagery throughout her fiction, yet in the most subtle, understated manner. Jack is a novel about the romance between a black woman and a white man in 1950’s America, a relationship which was outlawed in Missouri, where the tale takes place. The two meet in a cemetery at night in order to avoid discovery and persecution. Looking harder, however, the Christian reader realizes at the “tomb” there is a new beginning, the rebirth of humanity without all the manmade divisions. Also, the two wash their faces in the dew of the grass at the dawning of the day, symbolic of Eden or perhaps baptism. With Robinson, the metaphors are layered and numerous. Della, the African American female protagonist, is a well-educated, wellspoken teacher and the daughter of an AME bishop. Jack, her white suitor, is a down and out ex-con, thief, sometime drunk, and the son of a preacher, whom we meet in Robinson’s most famous work, Gilead. The reversal of the expected roles is dramatic. What is most surprising is the love between the two that will not be extinguished by the considerable forces outside of them, which leads them to a clandestine marriage. Robinson raises the
reader’s hopes around the dinner table of the bishop’s home in expectation of a sort of holy communion with Della’s large family in Memphis, TN. From the start of the meal, her siblings repeatedly taunt Jack and the aristocratic bishop angrily denounces him. Like Jesus, the two go from the last supper to Gethsemane. Escaping to a bus, Jack has to sit in the last row of “white” seats, while Della joins him in the first row of those designated “colored.” The two depart her ancestral home, like a new Sarah and Abraham “leaving their father’s house for a new land God will show them” (Genesis 12:1). Grace will set their course. When Gary Hayden began his walk down the spine of Great Britain, he was pudgy, out-of-shape, and unenthusiastic about the enterprise. He had committed to the 1,200 mile walk through Scotland and England to assuage Wendy, his wife, whose longtime dream was to hike the famous trail from John o’ Groats in Northern Scotland to Land’s End on the rocky western cape of Cornwall, England. By the time the two end their hike three months later, Hayden wishes he could have continued the walk forever. Walking with Plato: A Philosophical Hike Through the British Isles was my nighttime reading. I generally choose a book for bed that will lead me to gentle sleep and colorful dreams, no small thing for a 66-year-old. Walking two and half million steps with the Haydens was nearly rhapsodic for me, and I kept interrupting Kay’s reading with, “When can we do this?” Hayden’s memoir is less an intricate travelogue than it is a reflection on his life’s path through the lens of philosophers that he has read. At one point he quotes the autobiography of John Stuart Mill: ‘Those only are happy who have their minds fixed
PAGE TURNERS – Continued on some object other than their own happiness: on the happiness of others, on the improvement of mankind, even on some art or pursuit... Aiming thus at something else, they find happiness along the way.’ As Hayden walks for eight or more hours each day, most of the time consumed in the stillness of his own thoughts, he is able to transcend himself, his needs, his concerns for his future, and immerse himself in both the vast beauty and the considerable challenge of their daily sojourn. The pursuit of the trail drew him into that which is greater than self, and that was surely worth three months of walking. Recently, I wrote these words to my uncle about Eat This Book, by Eugene Peterson: “No one understands the Bible or has higher regard for it or discerns the deep poetry of it like Peterson. If I had known his work better before he died in October 2019, I would have flown to wherever in the world he was speaking.” And to my friends Katherine and Walter Brown, I added: “A master Hebraist and Greek scholar, Peterson translated the Bible into a version he dubbed The Message, which has introduced many to the Scripture and brought throngs back to reading it again. All of Peterson’s books inspire the reader and greatly elevate our engagement with the Bible. Because he pastored the same church for 29 years, Peterson fashions his words for the people in the pew. As a pastor myself, I hang on his every word.” I have now read six of Peterson’s works, two of them twice, and I have just ordered Traveling Light, his 1988 meditations on Galatians. Eat This Book, garners its name from Revelation 10:9, where John, the writer of the Apocalypse, is handed a scroll containing God’s word and told to eat it. The thesis of the book is illustrated through John’s act, for Peterson’s repeated refrain is that we are invited into the
mysterious, exhilarating, terrifying, and utterly unpredictable life of God through the Bible. We are not invited to be bystanders but living participants in the Biblical drama. Early on, Peterson declares, “The book makes us a participant in the world of God’s being and action; but we don’t participate on our own terms. We don’t get to make up the plot or decide what character we will be.” How do we read the Bible on God’s terms rather than our own? Citing John Calvin’s tenet from the Institutes of Religion, “All right knowledge of God is born of obedience,” Peterson carefully leads the reader through the ancient art of spiritual reading – Lectio Divina. Through this deeper reading of the Bible, which is not a mechanical method but a deep-seated habit, we cultivate a way of living the text in Jesus’ name. This is a far cry from picking out choice verses like we select avocados in the produce section of HEB. We begin to consume the whole story of the Bible, which was the angel’s aim for John and God’s goal for us. For Christmas, Kay gave me The Promise of the Grand Canyon: John Wesley Powell’s Perilous Journey and His Vision for the American West, by John F. Ross. That 5’6” man merits a book title at least that long. He was the first to lead an expedition down the Green and Colorado Rivers and through the Grand Canyon in 1869. He did so with one arm, because seven years earlier, his right arm, his dominant one, was amputated after the Battle of Shiloh. The impediment never slowed him down. Almost on a lark and just before he cast off into the foaming Green River in Wyoming, Powell climbed Long’s Peak, he was the first man to summit the 14,259-foot mountain. Powell’s somewhat ignored legacy was his warning to future generations that the American West did not have the water to
support ever-increasing populations and expansive farmland. Powell’s most heroic endeavor would not be his bravery in the Civil War, nor his two explorations of the Grand Canyon. His toughest and longest struggles would be against America’s intoxication with Manifest Destiny. Powell realized that the awarding of 160 acres west of the 100th Meridian was impractical and bordered on exploitation and treachery. Due to water, the land could not support agriculture in the same way as could be accomplished in the east. 160 acres awarded in Wisconsin is all well and good, but not in Oklahoma. His fights with senators in Washington were epic in scope and lasted for well over a decade. 150 years later, we know now that he was alarmingly accurate in his assessments. However, Powell was not primarily an adventurer or a politician. His main vocations were geology and what would later become known as ecology. By studying the strata of the Grand Canyon, mountains, riverbeds, and rocks, he realized that the Earth is in a constant state of formation. Water, heat, and wind constantly change the ground beneath our feet. Nothing is static. Powell was, indeed, an American prophet, whose deeds rank with Lewis and Clark and his intellect with Edison and Bell.
A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one. George RR Martin 13
Leaving a Legacy Great Commission Society by Lou Celia & Don Frost
Dearest Christ Church, Expressing in words why Lou Celia and I established a planned gift to Christ Episcopal Church is very personal, yet our goal is to encourage others to consider making a planned gift. My first attempts at this were so scattered that I decided to organize the thoughts in three simple themes. 1.) Organization - Christ Church is a stable and well managed organization that lives its mission every day. 2.) Impact – We have witnessed and experienced a direct spiritual impact on our lives and have seen its impact on other members within our parish. 3.) Legacy – We wanted to create a legacy which will continue to strengthen this impact on future generations. Our family’s involvement with Christ Church dates back to its founding. My grandparents, parents, and Lou Celia, and I have all raised children at Christ Church. The foundation each generation received while worshiping at our church has led to an enriched and abundant life for all of us. We have seen firsthand the impact this parish has had on our family. Seeing my parent’s walk with Christ through an adult lens has significantly impacted both of us. We certainly witnessed the power that faith in Christ can have an individual and furthermore the impact that faith has on others. Lou Celia and I believe the steady hand of my father was directly due to his life at Christ Episcopal Church. In addition, we recognize the spiritual impact so many within our congregation had on him. We continue to witness my father’s strength in my mother today, whose considerable 14
work to provide soup for our seniors and her Pray-lines for the parish has inspired us no end. Our church and its members ability to change lives is a legacy we wish to support annually, and with a planned gift our support will not end at our deaths. The church leadership, staff and, more importantly, you – our members – have been living examples of love for all. It is such a comfort to be part of a congregation that has created such a lively and caring place of worship. Our parish practices its faith in an open and loving manner that embraces the newcomer. We have all learned to communicate our beliefs and experiences in a way that benefits so many. Truly, Lou Celia and I have received more than we have given, reminding us of one of my father’s favorite bible verses … “to whom much is given much will be required” (Luke 12:48). Christ Church is like an old friend. Even after drifting away, we returned and immediately felt welcomed and reconnected with the church and the steadfast love of God through each of you. Christ Episcopal Church has been the strongest parish in the diocese over my entire life, so the desire and confidence to support such an organization motivated us to establish a planned gift and do so today! This consistency in both the leadership and its membership to “live” its mission statement everyday assures us Christ Church will continue to impact lives in the future. Establishing a planned gift is very personal. To be open to setting up a testamentary gift may be somewhat
uncomfortable. However, it is important for Lou Celia and me to state that our primary motivation to do so came from each and every one of you…so thank you for your gift to us. We want to see the beauty of our place of worship continue, a beauty shown to us by you. Please know our Church policy requires all planned gifts to be held in a permanent endowment to cover general operating and administrative expenses. The powerful legacy of such a gift ensures that the future of Christ Church becomes even more focused on our outreach ministries and, therefore, we will never cease impacting lives with the love of Christ. Our planned gifts continue the work of Christ through our church…. FOREVER!!! You too can assure our church continues to impact lives and we encourage you to be a part of this living legacy of Christ Episcopal Church. Please consider joining Lou Celia and me with a planned gift to our beloved Church. Should you have questions or comments, please contact Patrick Gahan or myself. We would encourage you to visit with your legal counsel to discuss the many prudent methods in establishing such a gift. Faithfully yours in Christ, Lou Celia and Don Frost
Photo Album
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E P I S C O PA L Christ Episcopal Church 510 Belknap Place San Antonio, TX 78212 www.cecsa.org
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 23, Number 3.
There is so much going on on the lawn at CEC!