James Derkits

At the beginning of this Advent,  the season leading to Christmas, I sat alone in my living room after everyone else in my family was in bed. In the dark and in silence, I lit the first candle on our Advent wreath. Since I can remember, the way to Christmas each year has been through Advent--the season of preparing and waiting. This year as I lit the candle, I asked God, and I asked myself on God's behalf: "What is being born in me this year?" If, with the Psalmist, we believe that God puts a new song in our hearts, and that Christmas is God's own incarnation in the world, then the experience of Christmas isn't a simply historical recounting of something that God did long ago, it is also, and perhaps most importantly, what new thing God is doing right now. This Christmas this year is about how God is becoming incarnate in the rag-tag manger of our hearts once again. I pray that what will be born in my heart this year is Christ's loving compassion for all

In October, the Bishop of Costa Rica joined our clergy conference at Camp Capers. He was inspiring, and the story of transformation he shared of their journey from maintaining an established (struggling) church to becoming a healthy church living as a missional community was inspiring. Photos from Marine Dream One of the metaphors he used for participating in the work of the Holy Spirit was surfing--a symbol they certainly have in abundance in Costa Rica. The Holy Spirit is like a wave, and is as abundant as waves on the ocean, and is as accessible. They are present to us if we but paddle out and catch them--as the Holy Spirit is accessible to us, if we would only rely on it to guide us. In recent months, my wife, Laura has been bitten by the surf bug. She surfs as often as possible, and if there are no waves, she is likely to go paddle around our local pier for practice. I've witnessed changes in her; in her attitude toward life, and even a reorientation around what is mos

In a little less than a month there will be middle eastern refugees looking for a place to stay. You will be asked if you have room for them. As usual, many will close their doors to them, until finally this runaway family will end up living with animals, and there a child conceived out of wedlock will be born. At least that's how two of the Gospel writers tell the story. Two of them don't even bother with the birth story, in those Gospels we just jump right to the ministry. I have my favorite family stories of the Christmas experience that I carry in my memory, and we are building happy memories for our son as he grows and finds the surprising gifts under our Christmas tree on December 25. We're also being careful that the American-Santa theology is not the only thing our son learns this time of year; he is also learning about God's Incarnation in Jesus Christ. American-Santa stories and songs teach that if you're good you are rewarded, and if you are bad yo

The autumn is a season of death. I recently did a whirlwind week of travel across Texas and then up to North Carolina. On my journey I was inspired again and again by the presence of death and how it was celebrated. It is our constant companion no matter what attitude we take toward it. My week of travel started with a funeral and a wedding on the same day; both are occasions to celebrate life in the midst of death. A funeral is an apparent connection, perhaps. The funeral was for a friend of mine who I've known since high school. The exact cause of her death was unknown, but the influence of her life on others is obvious. A church in Houston was full of people who's lives she touched, changed, and inspired. As I said goodbye to my friend, and mourned with her family, it made me want to live. The next stop was a wedding on a hill country river. Once again, it was the occasion of life in the midst of death. Both the bride and groom will one day die.  And during the ceremony, t

I've gotten away from using our book of Holy Women, Holy Men at our weekly Wednesday Eucharist, in favor of using the upcoming lectionary, so I've missed learning each week about the saints we celebrate on a weekly basis. Today a Lutheran Pastor friend walked in talking about an English day of remembrance for Guy Fawkes . Not wanting to be out anglicized by my German brother-in-Christ, I quickly thumbed through my Holy Women, Holy Men, and was relieved to find that I hand't completely forgotten about Mr. Fawkes, because, of course, he isn't in there. November 3 and November 6, though, are the feast days of Richard Hooker and William Temple , two church leaders who have long given me inspiration, and who's writings have helped me continue to be vulnerable enough to ask the deep questions I need to ask, and to continue my spiritual journey in the context of the Episcopal Church. The things I remember about these guys is that Hooker gave us the three-legged-sto

Reflection for October 25 Mark 10.46-52 The Rev. J. James Derkits Trinity by the Sea Context: I was away from Trinity by the Sea on October 25 at the Inner Journey Retreat at Kanuga , NC. I wrote this reflection for the worship leader to read. Greetings everyone--I feel a little like St Paul might have, writing you a letter to be read in the context of worship. Only a few differences: It’s in English I’m typing on a laptop and back then they wrote on tiny pieces of papyrus or clay Your worship leaders received it by email, not carried personally by a messenger And, most importantly, I’m not writing to address major problems as St. Paul often had to, I’m just writing to give you a reflection on this amazing story and to let you know I love you and will be lifting you up in prayer...from the mountains of North Carolina at our Episcopal Conference Center called Kanuga on the final day of an Inner Journey Retreat Rather than a digression, that is, perhaps the best p

Laura and I are coaching soccer again this year. It has already been a lot of fun. That's what it's about, especially at the under-6 level! We tie a team jersey on the goal to help them remember which direction to kick the ball. We work on learning to pass, but that's a difficult concept at that age. Why share the ball, when the goal is THAT way?? It's really hilarious. And a joy to witness those little moments of glory, as well as frustration. We don't even keep score (well, some do I'm sure.) After the game, we always make sure to say a team cheer. This year we are the Dorados. (Go Dorados, go-go-Dorados!) This week, my sister called to let me know my nephew Aidan was playing in Kingsville. It worked out that I had nothing scheduled that night, so Eli and I drove to see Aidan play. They are the Austin Waldorf School Road Runners. They lost that game, but it was a regional game, which means they got to play in a regional game! Way to go Roadies! I was sor

I am grateful to all those local saints who have been such good stewards of the natural resources of this island, and all who struggle to find the balance between the needs of community, financial responsibility, and protecting this wild island we inhabit. October is the month we commemorate St. Francis of Assisi who had a special gift for paying attention to the needs those who might otherwise be overlooked by the powers-that-be. He is often depicted in statues and icons with birds on his shoulder, and a wolf at his side. The stories tell us that he had a wolf as a companion, and that when no one else was around to preach to, he would just preach the gospel to the birds. As we celebrate St. Francis and his attention to the voiceless, I am mindful of the recent scare around Paradise Pond that resulted in a variety of reactions! I got caught up in fearing it might be a direct attack on one of our island treasures. Conversation with people on the island, and the comprehensive article

Thank you to everyone who attended our conversation on Sexuality, Relationships, and the Church. It was a time of holy listening, and sacred sharing around a topic that is quite personal to all of us because our understanding comes from our life experiences and people we know and love. There are gay (lesbian, homosexual...) people in my family. I love them. (There are straight people in my family, too, of course, and I love them, too.) I'm thinking here, first of my biological family, but also my extended friend-family and my church family.  Right now we are working together as a church family to understand how can we best support one another on this Christian journey and share the agape-love of Christ, and not argue over our ideological and theological differences. No matter what your perspective on this issue, Trinity by the Sea is where we come to meet God, receive and become the Body of Christ, and go out in to the community to be spiritual and charitable resource of God'

I had heard about the Abundant Living Conference when I was in the Diocese of Texas. It is an annual event there, in March at Camp Allen . I never had the opportunity to attend, but I've been a fan of The Rev. Dr. Helen Appelberg for some time. When I arrived at Trinity by the Sea, I spoke to some of our older adults, who were looking for something to support them in their spiritual life, and I started dreaming of having the conference here. We've just completed the first Abundant Living Conference in the Diocese of West Texas, and it was a wonderful experience. Plans have begun to have another next September (September by the Sea, March in the Piney Woods!) It is a conference for people over 60, who are engaged in the second half of life, and about encouraging them to live a life full of meaning, and growth. The alternative is what some people do when they retire: feel that life is over, and go about the business of deteriorating. I had the special privilege of attending b

My son Eli's current favorite Bible story is David vs. Goliath. For him it ranks right up there with a good Star Wars story. We normally read it from one of the illustrated children's Bibles, but recently I read the whole uncut story. Well, uncut may not be the best phrase, since David does, in the end cut off Goliath's head. That part isn't usually in the children's version. Sometimes another detail is left out: that David picked up five stones. I hope Eli will remember that there were five stones, and that he only had to sling one to knock down Goliath. Those little details may become important some day for him, even though the meaning behind them isn't that important, nor interesting to him right now. Some day, he may learn about the history and composition of the Bible, and then recognize that there are five books of Moses, the Torah. Maybe he will make a connection to those five stones. Maybe it's not about rocks after-all, maybe it's about dep

Originally Published in the South Jetty Jesus answered, "You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am about to drink?"   They said to him, "We are able."  He said to them, "You will indeed drink my cup..." The cup that Jesus refers to here, and does finally drink is his own crucifixion-resurrection. He descends to the dead and is raised to new life trampling down death by death, and leading the way to eternal life for all. The initiating question leading to the dialogue I included from Matthew's gospel is about a request for permission to sit at Jesus' right and left in the kingdom of God. These two disciples are wanting assurance of their ultimate union with God and Christ, and Jesus offers them fair warning about the challenging quest that is required for such a union. He has already given them a glimpse into the nature of the kingdom of God. In God's kingdom, the dead are raised, the sick are healed, th

Early in Luke's Gospel, blessed Mary, the mother of God, receives a shocking prophecy from Simeon in the Temple: "...a sword will pierce your own soul, too." (Luke 2:35) The Greek word for soul is where we get the English word psyche. Simeon foretells that Mary's psyche/soul will be pierced by the death of her child, Jesus. This past Mothers' Day, as we celebrated mothers, I was deeply aware of  all the mothers and all parents who have lost children. The pain from the death of a child can drive a person insane: a wounded psyche, a wounded soul. Simeon shares an ancient wisdom that too many mothers have faced; to experience the death of a child is soul piercing. It overturns the expected order of life, and it takes intentional soul work to take the steps toward healing. In my 8 short years of being a priest, I feel like I have already known too many mothers who have lost their babies. The first time was while I was still in seminary, and that already seemed like

A friend recently noticed that the baptismal font in our church was dry. There is a practice in the church of dipping one's fingers in the water of the baptismal font, then making the sign of the cross to remember one's baptism, receiving anew the blessing and grace of God that is eternally present. I had already noticed that the font was dry and intended to add more water so that it was available as an outward and visible sign of that inward and spiritual grace, then I forgot, and I'm glad I did.  When she noticed the baptismal font was dry I said, "Yes, it's all evaporated...so breathe deeply to breathe in the holy water that is in the air." The four of us standing there in the church all took a deep breath. Then I remembered something I have been taught about the holiness of all water in the world. If you don't already consider all water holy and a precious, living part of our lives, try this on: Because of the way water circulates through evapor

It's not officially summer according to the position of the earth on our orbit around the sun. We're a little less than a month away from that. However, according to the energy level of people around me, it's summertime! Schools are headed for break, enthusiasm about anything planned around the church is being voted down in absentia. I get it. This has been quite a busy year. I feel it, too. I'm one of the people who is certainly showing signs of summer. And I'm not going to resist it. I know there are some big things coming up this fall that will require a lot of energy and attention. (And planning before we get there.) It's time for a fallow field (although I may pull some of these beastly sticker-burrs that have come up since the rain.)  As I get ready to downshift, I am going to refocus my creative energy a bit this summer, too. I really love writing these weekly blogs, but for the next few months, I'm aiming for monthly. I have a music project th

If you've been down by the Port Aransas beach pier lately, you've seen those wonderful "Village People" bollards. It started with one bollard that grew "hair." Grass grew through the bollard and sprouted off the top, looking like a tuft of hair. That was all the inspiration that was needed. Soon discarded sunglasses and a visor were added. Then gloves and Mardi Gras beads. The lonely soldier was finally joined by two others, and eventually a fourth appeared. They make me smile every time I drive by. Each bollard character is unique, like the characters we meet in Port Aransas. That's one example of spontaneous art I recommend checking out, but take a walk down the beach on any day and you are likely to find pieces of driftwood erected in a miniature Stone Henge, or perhaps in the shape of a small chapel. More common are the drawings or writings in the sand. Not long after our Holy Week Labyrinth walk, when I carved a labyrinth, or prayer path near ma

I haven't seen as much of Laura lately. She's taken on a second job. Actually, she just finished it! Her first half-Ironman Triathlon , but probably not her last, so I guess the "second job" continues. Ok, so it isn't technically a second job, but it takes an amazing amount of work to prepare to swim, bike, and run those distances. She competed in Galveston, and finished strong. It was amazing to witness her dedication to the training, and to marvel at the distances she would go in a day: "I'll be right back after I swim a mile and bike 20 miles." "Ok, I'll be sitting on the sofa." ...Actually with all her training it was hard me to sit still. I started running more seriously again, and got inspired sign up to run a marathon in November. I've done two half-marathons in the past two years and I think I'm ready to step it up a bit. I'm not the only one Laura has inspired. She is already signing up other 70.3 triathletes, and

I did play once in third grade with my buddy Rit Johnson. I remember that we spent a lot of time looking for my lost golf balls, so I just rode along for most of the game. Aside from that, and some Putt-Putt in Jr. High, I've really never played golf. I'm going to do it though, and I've assembled a very forgiving team (I hope they read that, and believe it.) Once a year, Trinity by the Sea Day School has a Golf Tournament to raise funds for their operating budget, scholarships, salaries, and playground equipment. It's for everything. The school depends on it, and helps keep many Port Aransas families working, since their children have an amazing school to attend daily. It is an amazing school. Nana Ward the director has been leading it for 16 years, and continues to assemble an outstanding staff of teachers. I get to spend time with them once a week in chapel, and it's one of the highlights of my week. Even when the students are especially wiggly. Usually, whe

I recently read a story told by John A. Sanford , an Episcopal priest and Jungian analyst, of a childhood well he remembered at an old family home. Before they had running water, they used the well, and it produced the most wonderful, cool, clear, delicious water. The family eventually introduced plumbing, so the old well was no longer necessary. Later in life, Sanford was curious about uncovering the well, and found it to be dry, not because the water level had dropped, but because since the flow of water out of the well had ceased, the tiny "rivulets" has he called them, didn't flow and so became clogged up. He compared that well to the spiritual life: when we cease to access the "flow" of the spirit, the resource may seem to dry up. When we do not practice drawing from the well, regularly, we may find it a difficult source. I know exactly what he's referring to because I have had such a spiritual experience. For a time during and just after college I wa

I don't normally post sermons, but since I've had a couple of requests for copies of this one, I'm going to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. I didn't write it all out until after the sermon, so it's probably a little different here than what I preached at 9 or 11 on Sunday April 12, 2015.  The Gospel story for the sermon was of Jesus returning to the disciples both on the first Sunday after his crucifixion and then a week later (8 days) returning to that same room. Thomas missed the first visit, and wouldn't believe unless he saw the mark of the nails and put his hand in Jesus' side. On the second visit, he had his opportunity. John 20:19 Thomas When I was about 9 or 10, I became fascinated with climbing up on the roof of my childhood home in Silsbee, TX. I didn't do it very often, and it all probably started with helping my dad get leaves and sticks down once or twice a year. Every-so-often, though I would sneak up there on my own