James Derkits

Beatrice (l) and Erin (r) each died in the Spring of 2018 I sat at the dining table with my dad and my wife selecting readings from the Bible as well as hymns and other music for my niece Erin's funeral. She died in a head-on collision on her way to go fishing in the coastal bend, one of her very favorite things to do. She was 22 and seemed to have been really finding herself. She had just rescued two baby opossums, and we worked with her roommate to get them to a wildlife rehab center. The opossums were no surprise, that was Erin. At the dining table, we had our Episcopal prayer book, hymnal, and the Bible. My dad and I took turns with his reading glasses. In the middle of it all was the bulletin from my niece Beatrice's funeral two months before. Beatrice was 16 and struggled with depression until it took her life. As we wept and read, my dad commented, "Who would have thought we would use Beatrice's funeral to plan another one." Beatrice & E...

Originally Published in the South Jetty Newspaper When my mentor Pittman McGehee published his book  The Invisible Church,  started reading and could hardly put it down...until I got to the section on Suffering, then I wanted to either walk away or at least skip ahead. I don't like suffering (does that seem redundant?) McGehee makes clear that the suffering he writes about isn't caused by physical pain, clinical mental illness, nor from abusive relationships. Those should be taken care of appropriately and directly. He writes, "The kind of suffering I'm talking about is soul suffering, and it seems to be a requirement for the building of soul...to suffer in the spiritual sense means to carry something until we know its meaning...When something happens that causes us to suffer, [we might ask] 'What is this leading to? What truth can I discern from this suffering?'...'What does this want from me? What is its meaning?'" Each of us has suffer...

Advance! My close friend and colleague pokes fun at the word "retreat" for those weekend-or-longer spiritual get-aways. "They are opportunities for growth, re-creation, and rejuvenation, so why do we use a word that means to go backward when we are going forward?" It's a playful argument, and there is a going backwards component to retreats in that we pull away from the "battle-front" of our busy lives and get back to remembering who we are and whose we are. And in the process of going backwards, we do, indeed, advance. Maybe the backward-naming of such a spiritual practice is because spiritual practice is so counter cultural. We value production, staying busy, and multi tasking. Taking time to be still, reflect, and rest in God's silence is very backward by cultural standards. Another friend has taught me the principle of going slow to go fast. This one does come from the best-business-practice world and places an importance of planning, check...

Originally Published in the Port Aransas South Jetty Newspaper Christmas, which Christians celebrate on December 25, just on the heels of the winter solstice, is a simple celebration of Emmanuel which means “God with us.” It is a celebration of the eternal Christ/Son of God/Word of God, the second person of the Trinity putting on flesh and being born of Mary. That’s at the core of what Christmas about, anyway. Often times lots of other things are packed around it, and from time to time something comes crashing across our path that returns us to the meaning of Christmas: The Grinch can take away all the presents, and all the Whos down in Whoville will still gather around in a circle and sing. A hurricane can run through our town and leave us wondering which way is up for months, and still we will gather to sing “Silent Night” by candlelight. Every available bed in town may be occupied, and still, Mary will find a humble dwelling to give birth to God among animals and feed in an ove...

Yes, it's early to be thinking about Christmas, so we can just blame Harvey that I have no sense of time anymore. Either that, or I'm hopeful that as we move toward Christmas (less than two months away) I might be more mindful about what it's about, and how I spend my energy. Having just celebrated Halloween back in Chanel Vista (thank you Chanel Vista, trash trucks, city, and volunteers who made all that possible!) I noticed that things were different, but the spirit and energy of that celebration was enough. We had what we needed: candy and costumes, and most importantly: people. It was different because we are different, and our energy and other resources are focused on the recovery. I think that made this Halloween even better. Exchanging gifts is fun, and I'm not going to suggest that no one give tangible signs of our love for one another. As we prepare for the feast of the Incarnation of God's presence among us, we might be more intentional about how we ...

Originally Published in the South Jetty Newspaper This fall (Pre-Harvey), I was planning to lead a Bible study on Revelation, which in my tradition is carefully pronounced without the "s" at the end. In my circles, people tend to either love the book or avoid it altogether. I remember reading it for the first time, when I was in Jr. High, and it was one of the first books I couldn't put down. I actually stayed up late reading the rich, dualistic imagery of a battle for the world which the Lamb ultimately wins. Some people avoid it because of that rich, overwhelming imagery, but I'm someone who has grown to love the sometimes jarring images of dreams and poetry because it helps me pay attention to my own deep soul-work that my ego might otherwise leave undone for the sake of aparent security. A couple of people have asked me about all the disasters happening around us and to us: if these might be the "end-times. And to that I'd like to say, of course! We ...

I love Mother Mary. I don't always know where she fits in; being Episcopalian, I teeter between a Catholic and Protestant understanding of the saints...but that's just a doctrinal quandary. When I relax and let my religious imagination be my guide, I remember that she bears God into the world, she glows with her own Spirit-infused radiance, and that she knows our deepest sorrows: she had to bury her child. We have this statue of Mother Mary at Trinity by the Sea, and she has had quite an adventure through Harvey. She took a faceplant when the bricks from the wall behind her fell on her. Volunteers excavated her and helped her to stand once again. I imagine she has some Harvey-survivor memories to ponder in her heart. Now she rides on a dolly (not a donkey) as the wall is repaired, and we find the best place for her to stand and welcome in the weary souls. As with other icons of Mary, our statue of her stands barefoot, trampling a serpent. She shares in Christ's vi...