James Derkits

Sometimes experts complain about knowing too much about their field of expertise when it becomes a burden. I've heard preachers complain that they have trouble listening to a sermon without analyzing how they might have done it differently. When medical professionals hear conversations among friends or family, they can't help but come up with a diagnosis and wonder about a treatment plan. It can become overwhelming.  The sort of "knowing too much" I'm referring to here, though, is a little different, but can also be overwhelming. Imagine, if you will, living on this island near Texas many years ago, and waiting for a weekly paper to arrive to find out some news from the rest of the world. Can we imagine further back? What if you learned a big weather event had happened only when you and your tribe traveled to trade with a neighboring tribe after a few days' journey on foot. We can only try to imagine what that might have been like because today we have this co...

If you are like me, you love to commune with God in nature. I can't actually remember hearing anyone say, "I really can't connect with God in nature." I remember the first time I heard a church-person affirm that connection with God in nature. I was at Camp Allen, the summer camp I attended as a kid, and one of the priests said that I and my heart leapt with joy to hear that from someone with authority. The Celtic Christian tradition is full of this sort of awareness and teaching. There are little prayers offered that include the majesty and intricacy of God's good creation. Some of the monks used to set out on the sea, allowing it to carry them on to new unknown places to proclaim the gospel.  A friend was talking about the practice of praying morning, noon, and night recently, and referred to that prayer practice as having a Trinitarian Shape. I tend to have a regular morning prayer time, and night prayers under the stars are often my deepest, soulful conversati...

"In what part of your life are you stuck?" That was a favorite question from my therapist upon his first visit with new patients. I visited him for the first time in my first year of ordained ministry when I was struggling to find inspiration; I felt stuck. A mentor recommended that I learn to take care of my mental and spiritual health, and that led to a whole journey that included my one-on-one time with Dr. James Hollis, a regular a facilitated clergy support group, and participation in retreats; each component helped me get unstuck and I still draw on the wisdom I learned across all parts of my life.  Regarding his "stuck" question, Dr. Hollis's confided to me, "Not has someone replied, 'what do you mean?'" Instead they quickly got to work unpacking the "stuck" area of life. At most stages in life, as we navigate worldly demands and familial responsibilities we put some part of who we are on hold. Those untended parts of ourselves...

I’m sitting at a highway rest area not far from where I grew, up looking at a wall of green trees that remind me of playing in the woods as a little boy around our house in East Texas. I used to run and play, and let my imagination run and play as well.       Later, when I went to church camp, I heard the description of what I had experienced: ”Connecting with God in nature.” As I grew up and learned to navigate the world as an adult, having my first job within the church, I would still return again and again to be with God in nature especially at decision points in my journey. I would go into wilderness places and pray.       As I grew older, found new ways to play through canoeing, mountain biking, hiking longer trails, or camping out. All of them putting me in close contact with God‘s beautiful, good creation.        When I was learning to meditate my favorite place to practice would be outside near a stream where I wou...

I grew up in an age of collective disillusionment: Institutions were losing trust, the optimism of social rights activism seemed to stagnate, and even the hippies seemed to give up and go be productive members of society. In the 90's I danced at school and camp dances to "Loser" by Beck, and "Creep" by Radiohead, while REM's "It's the End of the World As We Know It" helped us to feel fine while we bounced around listening to all the world's problems. Alas, we were lost and wondering.  Many parents of kids in my generation found a religious freedom they called (and continue to call) "spiritual, but not religious." The Vietnam War had exposed us collectively to Buddhism, and while some Christian monks (Thomas Merton) teamed up with Buddhist monks (Thich Nhat Hahn) in deep conversation to find commonality and to learn from one another, many others became aware of whole continents of people who are not Christian, considered convention...

Originally published in the South Jetty Newspaper St. Augustine of Hippo is credited as saying, "He who sings, prays twice." I'm not great at math, but that  seems like it adds up. The experience of singing and playing music is one of my favorite ways to pray. Sometimes I lead music, or share a sermon-song in church, sometimes it happens around a campfire or in a music venue. The words and style may change, but to me it is all spiritual. Playing music and listening to music is good medicine for my soul.  I am not a great music teacher, I have learned, but I have been able to pass along a few guitar chords here and there in an attempt to share the joy of playing music. I learned to play guitar when I was 14 from one of our church ladies, and I haven't stopped playing since. It has helped me in so many ways, not only landing a job a summer camp when I was a teen, but more recently it has been a vehicle to process grief and other emotions. I've written songs about th...