James Derkits

 Once I went to hear a band in Houston in this strange downtown bar that had an open air patio out back. Actually, I think it had once been another room that lost its roof, and they converted it into a lovely, crushed-granite-floored space with open air windows under the one or two stars visible above the glow of Houston's lights. As I listened to the band, I was also working on a sermon about Jesus and Zacchaeus. Remember Zacchaeus climbed up a tree so he could catch a glimpse, and Jesus looked up and saw him, and had dinner with him later. As I sat there listening to the music, I jotted in my journal my imagining of Zacchaeus peeking over the wall to see what was happening inside. Would anyone notice?  Zacchaeus was easy to write-off. He was not a beloved disciple religious man. He was a tax collector, in cahoots with the Roman occupiers. Jesus didn't see those labels, he saw a human being longing to be loved by God; longing to be noticed and welcomed. That's what Jesus d...

Originally Published in the South Jetty Newspaper Growing up an in an Episcopalian family, I knew we wouldn't be decorating a tree or hanging Christmas lights until Janna's birthday. She is one of my sisters who's birthday is a week before Christmas. We waited relatively late in the season, compared to our neighbors, because we observed the season of Advent. Advent is the four weeks before Christmas and is about waiting and preparing for Christ's coming. One of the central Christmas symbols present in my childhood home home, once we finally dug out the Christmas boxes, was a crèche that sat on a table facing near our front door in the main hallway of our home. It was there for us to encounter daily in the Christmas season. I can remember the figures gathered around that manger holding the precious Christ Child. Joseph and Mary were there with the ass and ox. Shepherds looked on from outside. The Magi slowly made their journey across nearby furniture arriving to pay homa...