James Derkits

I used to get sucked into this game on Houston highways. It's only a game. There were of course a few times when I was actually trying to get somewhere quickly, when I was running late for a meeting, or a baseball game. But most of the time, when I tried to get ahead, when I tried to find the fastest moving lane, I was just playing the game. I'm sure that game only results in a couple of minutes of early arrival at best. Sometimes I fear like that game taught me too many lessons. I'm afraid it shaped my thinking more than I realized. I'm afraid the lessons were teaching me to see the moments of life like getting through that traffic. The governing question becomes "How do I get through/done with/around this?" As if each moment and encounter in life is not a gift. Now, to be perfectly honest, if a one of those golf carts pulls in front of me while I'm driving through town (especially the rentals) I've been known take a side road to get around them....

A friend moved from Texas to Virginia for seminary a year ahead of me. The spring before I moved up that way, I called her to ask what it was like to live there, and what he seminary was like. After giving some rave reviews about the community and the professors, she said, "I never really understood resurrection until this year." That caught my attention. I expected her to relay some profound teaching she learned. She went on, "When the first green sprouts poked up through the snow, and the dead looking trees put on their first green leaves, and then the cherry blossoms bloomed along the tidal basin, I got it!" That wasn't what I was expecting her to say, and I could only guess at what she meant, having grown up in the piney woods. A year later, sure enough, my first spring and Easter in Virginia revealed a new experience of resurrection as the world came back to life from beneath the blanket of snow. That Easter was different from any I had experi...

My mentor Pittman McGehee first introduced me to the Wild Goose metaphor. He shared his copy of A Wee Book of Worship with me, a prayer book from the Wild Goose Worship Group . He explained the Wild Goose as another metaphor for the Holy Spirit; instead of the conventional image of the dove, the wild goose sparks in the imagination a pursuit: a Spirit on the move, that leads us on a chase! I love that metaphor, and try to keep it in mind when seemingly unrelated conversations pick up a common thread around a community. That's what happened at the beginnings of the Trinity Community Garden. If you've been to Trinity recently, you may have noticed the little raised-bed garden that sits between the church, school, and vicarage. (What a perfect location for our community!) So, those pieces of conversations led to a proposal at the Bishop's Committee meeting, and a date for the building of the garden. Notice the rough boarders on the bed? Clark had been saving those  beam...

I took a couple of days away after Easter. Holy Week was full of collecting, cutting, and folding palms; selecting, practicing, and performing some old time music; praying, preparing, preaching, and participating in the movement from the Maundy Meal and Crucifixion to Resurrection. It was a fulfilling and amazing Easter morning. Then I went away and spent time eating, sleeping, and playing with Eli. So, when I got back to my office, there remained the remnants of planning, the left-over articles of liturgies, and even an easel we used to coordinate the parish work day (Holy Saturday.) As I sorted through and started to put things back in their places, I began to wonder what my own soul looked like after such a week. In the midst of a journey with the church through Christ's death and Resurrection, is there left a clutter of experiences, or has there been a transformation? I believe that as Christians, we have been baptized into Christ's death and resurrection; I am remind...

June: "So this is a group from several churches in town, some will order beer, some won't." Zach: "...." blink, blink.  James: "Hi, I'm James, I'll have the Brewer's Cut from Real Ale." Zach caught on quickly, but there was definitely a pause of confusion when June Pettit, owner of Beaches, explained why the Presbyterian and Episcopalian ministers were gathering people on the porch. We've adopted the name Theology on Tap for our gathering. And part of our discussion is actually about the "tap." I brew beer, and Reverend Bob enjoys learning about, and tasting good beer. The idea is to talk some about beer, brewing, etc., and then to share questions and insights about God (that's the Theology part.) Last week, while we asked some deep questions (who goes to heaven, and all that), it was boring in that Bob and I agreed. We hoped to have some different perspectives on things to provide some options for others to agree w...

I'm taking a training course in collaborative operating systems that explores moving from a hierarchical model of operating an organization to a way collaborative operating. Several times in the tele-seminar, I have felt like I was involved in a conversation about how the Holy Spirit works in community.Of course, I tend to bring a churchy lens to things, but I think there was more to the conversation than my own projections. Ownership of, and alignment around problems is  the big focus in this system of collaboration. To get to a high level of ownership and alignment takes time, trust building, transparency, and lots of open ended questions. I won't go into this too much right now, but behind this process is the basic assumption that everyone has something to contribute to solving the problem at hand. Everyone brings some perspective, wisdom, or insight that can help identify and solve whatever problem is being faced. I facilitate two Bible Studies; we open up to Luke...

(Originally Published in the South Jetty Newspaper) I love camp food. I don’t mean the food they serve at summer camp cafeterias, though that can also be tasty. I love the simple, delicious food eaten around a camp fire. Macaroni and cheese tastes best after hiking up a long windy trail. One of our family favorite meals is a “hobo dinner:” It’s a heap of ground meat, cheese, ketchup, onions, and anything else you might want to throw in the cooler on the way out the door, all wrapped up in aluminum foil, and cooked right in the campfire coals. It could be the fatigue, the environment, or the primitive feeling of conversation around a fire that makes the food taste so good. But probably simple campfire meals taste so good because they are sustenance in the wilderness. It is the food that is available, out away from any fast food options.   In those situations, often times simple meals are the most meaningful. Thomas Merton, one of my favorite spiritual writers, wrote...