Summer Together: Recent Episodes
St. Paul's United Methodist Church, Houston
A rotating series on various topics to keep the church and community connected in the summer months.
Photo by Kelsey Johnson; center aisle of St. Paul's United Methodist Church, Houston
Rev. Tommy Williams sits down with his mother, Jane Williams, to reflect upon excerpts from one of her favorite poems, "The Eternal Goodness." Jane memorized this poem for a reading class assignment in the 8th grade; the verses have been her companion and a reminder of God's goodness and faithfulness ever since.
In the first stanza, when the poem references "O Friends! with whom my feet have trod // The quiet aisles of prayer," Jane says these "friends" are all of us! We have a special connection to one another when we pray or are prayed for. "Maybe we don't have one other thing in common," she says, "But the thing we have in common is God's love, and the prayer we all offer in our own way."
The Eternal Goodness
by John Greenleaf Whittier
O Friends! with whom my feet have trod
The quiet aisles of prayer,
Glad witness to your zeal for God
And love of man I bear.
Who fathoms the Eternal Thought?
Who talks of scheme and plan?
The Lord is God! He needeth not
The poor device of man.
*I see the wrong that round me lies,
I feel the guilt within;
I hear, with groan and travail-cries,
The world confess its sin.
Yet, in the maddening maze of things,
And tossed by storm and flood,
To one fixed trust my spirit clings;
I know that God is good!
I know not what the future hath
Of marvel or surprise,
Assured alone that life and death
His mercy underlies.
And if my heart and flesh are weak
To bear an untried pain,
The bruised reed He will not break,
But strengthen and sustain.
No offering of my own I have,
Nor works my faith to prove;
I can but give the gifts He gave,
And plead His love for love.
And so beside the Silent Sea
I wait the muffled oar;
No harm from Him can come to me
On ocean or on shore.
I know not where His islands lift
Their fronded palms in air;
I only know I cannot drift
Beyond His love and care.
And Thou, O Lord! by whom are seen
Thy creatures as they be,
Forgive me if too close I lean
My human heart on Thee!*
Photo by Jed Villejo on Unsplash
Rev. Karyn Richards-Kuan calls this poem her "first favorite"--meaning she has only recently discovered an appreciation for poetry and these verses by Naomi Shihab Nye find particular resonance with her. The poem's origin, as described by the poet herself, traces back to when Nye and her husband were on their honeymoon in Colombia and were robbed of their possessions. In their disorientation and desperation, they experienced the kindness of a local man, which inspired this poem, "Kindness."
*Kindness
by Naomi Shihab Nye
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.*
Photo by Daan Stevens on Unsplash
Joining Rev. Tommy Williams today is St. Paul's member Bruce Webb, who shares a poem he wrote about two experiences in a hospital room: 1) the death of his father in 1968 and 2) his own life-saving heart transplant procedure 20 years later. Pay close attention to Bruce's use of imagery in windows, eyes, and coins.
The Patient Dreams
by Bruce Webb
In the patient’s room are nine windows.
Five windows face south and bring no stories to tell.
Their purpose simply to gather thin yellow light
That passes across the room, examining the wall
Six hours each day, behind the patient’s bed.
Of the other four,
Two on the west vex the patient
At twilight when they wrinkle up, cold and blue,
A hollow color matching the patient’s waxy skin.
The other two windows
Have not been seen, have not been found yet
In the room. Much is made of this by the patient
His doctors and especially an old priest
Who claims to have seen these windows
And tells the patient that eternity
Is like the soft, Irish green, pastoral landscape,
That lies within their frames.
“When I go,” the patient says,
I want it to happen quickly.” He imagines
It will be like falling asleep in one room
And waking in another.
The priest agrees
And says, “When you go, angels open their arms to you,
Invite you in. Lead you on. Then,
When the time is right, they take you
To a clearing where everyone you know is gathered
And you have barbeque."
The doctors dart in and out,
Don’t stay long,
They look at their watches
And at each other, shrug their shoulders,
Adjust the metal blinds into thin bands of light.
They say,
It won’t be long now: Two hours? Three? The machine stops.
They will pin down his eyelids with silver coins.
Photo by Rainier Ridao on Unsplash
Helen Spaw, who leads many of the Healing Circles at St. Paul's, joins Rev. Tommy Williams today for a conversation about the process of healing through poetry. In the poem she shares, Helen points out Rilke's phrase, "Try to love the questions themselves." She sees this as a surrender to the mystery of God, a patience with not understanding all things. There's a particular futility of rushing to figure out all the answers in life, as we often do in our desperation.
Healing certainly takes time, and as the poem says, it may come to us "gradually... along some distant day."
From "Letter Three" in Letters to a Young Poet
by Rainer Maria Rilke
Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.
Rev. Andrew Wolfe, associate pastor of congregational care, and his wife Amanda gravitated to a passage in Philippians 2, which is commonly referred to as the Christ Hymn. They chose these verses to be read in their wedding to lay the groundwork for their life together, drawn to Christ's call for deep love and humility.
When Rev. Tommy Williams asks Andrew what it means to him to have "the mind of Christ," his reply is: "It's seeing the world as God sees the world... realizing we're fully known and fully loved by God and it's only through Christ that it becomes a reality for us."
Philippians 2:1-11
If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.
Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross.
Therefore God also highly exalted him
and gave him the name
that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.
Photo by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash
Kat Denton, Ministry Assistant for Youth and Children's Ministry, reflects on her love of nature and how God is revealed through the natural world. The two poems she shares today describe a kind of marveling and enjoyment in what Kat calls "outdoor cathedrals."
Rev. Tommy Williams affirms, "You could say creation was the first cathedral, right? Before anything else was built."
Wildness
by David Bailey
You're there beside me when I wake--
window full of redwoods, otherworldly joy
of a Swainson's thrush singing.
It's enough to sit on the deck
with a mug of tea, breathing the fern-breath
warmth of the valley, ridge after ridge
from the mist unfolding. The view is a book
I open for one word, and it's enough
to feel close to everything.
But you know me better than I do. When you see
I'd stay here all morning, you whisper the name
of a trail I've heard of, and draw me out of my dreaming.
Where the wind gets loud on the mountain's
ocean side, I'd turn back, unknowing, but you pull me on
around the last bends to where the path arrives
at the beginning of the world--grassy cliffs breaking off
to jade-green ocean, waves bursting
on rough black rocks, pools of purple starfish,
green anemones. Gold chiaroscuro
of the late sun through sheets of rain
hangs in the air down the coast.
A wild symmetry aches back in me
from places I don't call myself, and I want to stay here
until I'm ragged and wind-slanted
as these bishop pines, lit up with orange lichens, draped
with Old Man's Beard. I want to stay until
I know you from inside, the way quail and coyotes
know you, and I've found that wildness
turning all of it into song
for no one's praise.
The whole day hangs in me
like a vision, strenuously beautiful.
I want this to be enough, but I know
I must make from it actual things, I must
unfold that landscape inside of me
in order to live there, in order to love
what you've shown me.
*Poplar Leaves
by Line Gauthier
wind rustling
poplar leaves
bells for Sunday mass*
Photo by Christian DeKnock on Unsplash
Rev. Dr. Bill Kerley first encountered this poem at a retreat where the facilitator Jim Finley was questioned about whether everyone has a place in God's heart.
Musing on the poem and its message, Dr. Kerley says: "I believe we are all safe in God and that the gospel is inclusive... It may not be my favorite poem, but I like it a lot."
Anonymous Poem
*Matt Talbot was a drunkard
Dismas was a thief
Magdalene was a playgirl
and Thomas without belief
But there they are in heaven
Looking down upon us now
Each holding a tilted halo
To a badly battered brow
And so the sins of all you sinners
Don't definitely damn
For your was-ness doesn't matter
If your is-ness really am.*
Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash
Rev. Tommy Williams and his wife Bethany share conversation about one of Bethany's favorite poems, "Take Love for Granted" by Jack Ridl. She calls it a Sabbath poem, one that emphasizes the familiarity of family life.
Despite the expectations in our culture to "make something grand of your life," Bethany says one of the things she's learning is: "A sweet life gets smaller, in a way that is not disappointing."
Take Love for Granted
by Jack Ridl
Assume it’s in the kitchen,
under the couch, high
in the pine tree out back,
behind the paint cans
in the garage. Don’t try
proving your love
is bigger than the Grand
Canyon, the Milky Way,
the urban sprawl of L.A.
Take it for granted. Take it
out with the garbage. Bring
it in with the takeout. Take
it for a walk with the dog.
Wake it every day, say,
“Good morning.” Then
make the coffee. Warm
the cups. Don’t expect much
of the day. Be glad when
you make it back to bed.
Be glad he threw out that
box of old hats. Be glad
she leaves her shoes
in the hall. Snow will
come. Spring will show up.
Summer will be humid.
The leaves will fall
in the fall. That’s more
than you need. We can
love anybody, even
everybody. But you
can love the silence,
sighing and saying to
yourself, “That’s her.”
“That’s him.” Then to
each other, “I know!
Let’s go out for breakfast!”
Photo by Marina Khrapova on Unsplash
Director of Youth Ministries, Tiffin Wilsford, sits down with Rev. Tommy Williams, bringing along a book by one of his favorite poets, Shel Silverstein. For Tiffin, this poem speaks to him about the lesson in being content in all circumstances. So often we rush from one thing to another, seeking what might make us happy. But there is wisdom in remaining in a place of contentment in every stage of life.
The Giving Tree
by Shel Silverstein
Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her branches
and eat apples.
And they would play hide-and-go-seek. And when he was tired,
he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree....
very much.
And the tree was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone. Then one day the boy came to the tree and the tree said, "Come, Boy, come and climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and eat apples and play in my shade and be happy."
"I am too big to climb and play" said the boy.
"I want to buy things and have fun.
I want some money?"
"I'm sorry," said the tree, "but I have no money.
I have only leaves and apples. Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in the city. Then you will have money and you will be happy."
And so the boy climbed up the
tree and gathered her apples
and carried them away.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time.... and the tree was sad.
And then one day the boy came back and the tree shook with joy
and she said, "Come, Boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and be happy." "I am too busy to climb trees," said the boy. "I want a house to keep me warm," he said. "I want a wife and I want children,
and so I need a house.
Can you give me a house ?"
" I have no house," said the tree.
"The forest is my house,
but you may cut off
my branches and build a house. Then you will be happy."
And so the boy cut off her branches and carried them away
to build his house.
And the tree was happy.
But the boy stayed away for a long time. And when he came back,
the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
"Come, Boy," she whispered, "come and play."
"I am too old and sad to play,"
said the boy.
"I want a boat that will
take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?"
"Cut down my trunk
and make a boat," said the tree. "Then you can sail away...
and be happy."
And so the boy cut down her trunk and made a boat and sailed away. And the tree was happy
... but not really.
And after a long time
the boy came back again.
"I am sorry, Boy,"
said the tree," but I have nothing
left to give you -
My apples are gone."
"My teeth are too weak
for apples," said the boy.
"My branches are gone,"
said the tree. " You
cannot swing on them - "
"I am too old to swing
on branches," said the boy.
"My trunk is gone, " said the tree.
"You cannot climb - "
"I am too tired to climb" said the boy.
"I am sorry," sighed the tree.
"I wish that I could give you something.... but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump.
I am sorry...."
"I don't need very much now," said the boy. "just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired."
"Well," said the tree, straightening
herself up as much as she could,
"well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting.
Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest."
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy.
Neri, da Rimini, 13th/14th cent. Leaf from an Antiphonary, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. Original source: www.mfa.org
Director of Music Christopher Betts admits he initially found it difficult to choose a favorite poem. After all, he doesn't consider himself having much exposure to poetry over the years. But then it dawned on him: he is constantly surrounded by poetry!
"I realized how much poetry I do know and love because it's been introduced to me through music," he says.
In this conversation between Christopher Betts and Rev. Tommy Williams, you'll hear about the interplay of sacred music and poetry. Inspired by John Milton's 17th century poem, "At a Solemn Musick," we reflect on how the metaphor of music can shape our understanding of our relationship with God.
Feel free to leave a comment below. You might ponder...
- How do these art forms of music and poetry create "thin spaces" (as it's described in the Celtic tradition) between humans and the divine?
- We certainly absorb theology through poetic lines paired with memorable melodies, as in the hymns of Charles Wesley. Which of Wesley's hymns is your favorite and what impact has it had on your understanding of what it means to be Methodist?
At a Solemn Musick
by John Milton
Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'ns joy,
Sphear-born harmonious Sisters, Voice, and Vers,
Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ
Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce,
And to our high-rais'd phantasie present,
That undisturbèd Song of pure content,
Ay sung before the saphire-colour'd throne
To him that sits theron
With Saintly shout, and solemn Jubily,
Where the bright Seraphim in burning row
Their loud up-lifted Angel trumpets blow,
And the Cherubick host in thousand quires
Touch their immortal Harps of golden wires,
With those just Spirits that wear victorious Palms,
Hymns devout and holy Psalms
Singing everlastingly;
That we on Earth with undiscording voice
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till disproportion'd sin
Jarr'd against natures chime, and with harsh din
Broke the fair musick that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway’d
In perfect Diapason, whilst they stood
In first obedience, and their state of good.
O may we soon again renew that Song
And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long
To his celestial consort us unite,
To live with him, and sing in endles morn of light.
Photo by Ameen Fahmy on Unsplash
For our first episode in the 2018 series of Summer Together, special guest Judy Leatherwood Smith joins Rev. Tommy Williams to share a couple of her favorite poems.
Judy, who is a member of St. Paul's UMC, remarks about why she loves these poems, "There's a preciousness of being a creature on earth... we are held by something so much larger and going out in nature just reminds me of that."
The Peace Of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry
When despair grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
And Judy shares another poem, one that fell out of book she had pulled from her shelf. Rev. Williams joyfully quips, "Anytime the poem falls out of a book, it probably needs to be read!"
*The Little Duck
by Donald Babcock
Now we are ready to look at something pretty special.
It is a duck riding the ocean a hundred feet beyond the surf,
And he cuddles in the swells.
There is a big heaving in the Atlantic.
And he is part of it.
He can rest while the Atlantic heaves, because he rests in the Atlantic.
Probably he doesn’t know how large the ocean is.
And neither do you.
But he realizes it.
And what does he do, I ask you.
He sits down in it.
He reposes in the immediate as if it were infinity – which it is.
That is religion, and the duck has it.*
I like the little duck.
He doesn’t know much.
But he has religion.
Now, it's your turn for reflection! Feel free to leave your comments below. Do you have a favorite poem that vividly captures images of the natural world? What about it speaks to you and your soul? Share it with us.
Exodus 1:8-2:10
In this final conversation centered around the summer's lectionary texts, Rev. Williams and Dr. Levison describe the enduring promise of God through the descendants of Abraham and Sarah. Even in the midst of a devastating famine (in the story of Joseph) and Pharoah's order of mass murder (in the story of Moses), life is preserved and sustained through the bold, determined action of God and God's people.
What can we do to be preservers of life?
This week’s scripture text is heart-wrenching. It is the long hoped for reunion of Joseph with the brothers who betrayed him. There are lots of tears and expressions here as the brothers listen with awe to Joseph retelling the story of how God redeemed his journey. Listen in for the conversation with Jack and Tommy and reflect on the mercy of God and how meaning is made in the worst of times.
Early study for "Joseph Greeting his Brethren" by Pier Francesco Mola (c. 1656) © The Trustees of the British Museum
"Joseph and his Brethren" by Bartolomé-Esteban Murillo (oil on canvas, c.1670)
After the reconciliation with Esau (his brother), Jacob settles in Canaan with his family. On this week's podcast, we trace the stories of the many sons of Jacob, including his youngest son, Joseph (Genesis 37). The story is rife with favoritism, jealousy, violence and estrangement. However, listen especially for the sub-plot with Joseph's brother, Reuben, who is a “glimmer of grace,” according to Dr. Jack Levison.
"Jacob Wrestling with the Angel" by Eugène Delacroix (mural completed in 1861, Church of Saint-Sulpice, Paris)
In this week's text, Genesis 32:22-31, Dr. Levison ponders the mysterious person with whom Jacob wrestles. Is it a man? Is it an angel? Is it God? "One of the important things about being a person of faith is discerning God's presence in apparent absence," he says.
Later, Rev. Williams emphasizes Jacob's persistence in prayer: "I will not let you go, unless you bless me" (v. 26). And in the course of intense wrestling through the night, we find Jacob at daybreak, both bruised and blessed. He greets the new day by naming the place Peniel, meaning "face of God."
Resources:
- "Come, O Thou Traveler Unknown" by Charles Wesley (UMH 386)
- The Elusive Presence: Toward a New Biblical Theology by Samuel Terrien
Jacob Encountering Rachel with her Father’s Herds by Joseph von Führich, 1836
Lectionary text from Genesis 29
The Genesis drama intensifies as Jacob falls in love with Rachel, but is tricked by his father-in-law and marries Leah (Rachel's sister) instead. Jacob, who once deceived his father to steal his brother's blessing, now falls victim to being deceived himself. As Dr. Levison and Rev. Williams discuss, in the midst of relationship upheaval and what starts to sound like a modern-day soap opera, somehow the promise of God remains steadfast and continues to be fulfilled.
Jacob’s Ladder (woodcut from Luther Bibles of 1534 and 1545)
Rev. Williams and Dr. Levison dig into this week's passage from Genesis 28:10-19.
Jacob dreams of a ladder stretching from earth to heaven. Through the dream, we hear God repeat the promise of how his descendants will multiply and be a blessing to all peoples.
"...And all the families of the earth shall be blessed in you and in your offspring." (v. 14b)
As Dr. Levison notes, "The sign of a great nation is not whether it [thinks itself] great, but whether the earth is blessed by that nation." Rev. Williams adds that often it takes the perspective of others to reveal what is true.
Resources:
- The Art of Biblical Narrative by Robert Alter
- "We Are Climbing Jacob's Ladder" (African-American spiritual)
"Jacob and Esau" by Lorenzo Ghilber Gilded bronze panel in the Gates of Paradise doors, Bapistery of St. John in Florence, Italy
Wherever you may be this summer, listen in to engage in this Bible study discussion with Rev. Tommy Williams and Dr. Jack Levison. "Summer Together" follows the lectionary passages in Genesis, week by week. This week's scripture takes us to the story of Jacob and Esau, the twin sons of Isaac and Rebekah. It's an account of struggle, competition and deception.
"And the LORD said to [Rebekah]: 'Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples born of you shall be divided; the one shall be stronger than the other, the elder shall serve the younger.'” – Genesis 25:23
Read the full lectionary passage: Genesis 25:19–34
Turning to Chapter 24 in Genesis, we find the story of Rebekah and Isaac. Dr. Levison and Rev. Williams remark how--even within the patriarchal constraints of the ancient world--Rebekah is an active figure who exercises agency in her own way. "Watch for the women embedded in the story," Dr. Levison remarks.
Wherever you are this summer, we hope you enjoy the easy pace of engaging these lectionary texts week by week. As Dr. Levison encourages us, we are reading scripture slowly so we can pay attention to the remarkable details.
Resources:
- The Art of Biblical Narrative by Robert Alter
Eliezer and Rebecca at the Well by Nicolas Poussin, 1648
Abraham’s Sacrifice by Adi Holzer (Hand colored etching, 1997)
Following along with the summer's lectionary texts, we enter into a particularly difficult passage of scripture this week in Genesis 22. Rev. Williams and Dr. Levison candidly discuss the raw emotion and anguish of this account where God puts before Abraham a test, telling him to sacrifice his son Isaac, whom he loves.
There are no easy answers here. Dr. Levison encourages us, the readers, not to rush to the end too soon and reassure ourselves that God halts the sacrifice of Isaac. He also recommends for us not to try to find "the moral of the story" and tie everything up neatly. In this complex passage (as so much of scripture so often is) there is simply not a way to fully understand it, yet we still engage it together.
Resources:
- Watch the sermon by SMU professor, Dr. Roy Heller, who preaches about how Abraham failed the test God gave him--it wasn't a matter of obedience but of compassion and mercy
- Find out more about the book, The Art of Biblical Narrative by Robert Alter
Hagar and Ishmael in the Wilderness, W. L. Taylor
This week, Rev. Williams and Dr. Levison continue the conversation around Abraham and Sarah as the couple grapples with believing God’s promise to make a great nation through them.
"Is there anything too wonderful for God?" or put another way, "Is there anything too difficult for God?" (Genesis 18:14) Dr. Levison remarks on how the difficult and the wonderful often go together.
New characters emerge in Hagar and Ishmael adding layers of complexity and opportunity to realize God's provision and protection. We see how God stays steadfast in keeping old promises and making new ones.
- Genesis 21:8-21 (Hagar and Ishmael Sent Away)
- Matthew 10:24-39 (Do Not Be Afraid)
Listen in and let us know your thoughts in the comments section.
This is a beginning overview of the Book of Genesis. In the Q&A Jack names Genesis as a book that holds the promises of God and the threats to God’s promise. One promise is “to be fruitful and multiply." This week’s readings, Genesis 18: 1-15 recount the story of the visitation to Abraham and Sarah by three strangers who bring a promise from God.
For Summer 2017, St. Paul's "Summer Together" series will take shape as podcast episodes. Starting June 18, Rev. Tommy Williams sits down with Dr. Jack Levison to chat about passages from Genesis. Following the lectionary texts throughout the summer, Rev. Williams and Dr. Levison take on a lighthearted tone in this informal Bible study, released each week as a 20-minute segment. Check back at www.stpaulshouston.org/summer-together for new episodes or subscribe in iTunes.
Rogier van der Weyden. Mary's Tears, detail from Descent from the Cross (circa 1399)from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN
BY REV. TOMMY WILLIAMS, SENIOR PASTOR
I’ll close the Summer Together blog posts with some poignant notes from Marilynne Robinson in the voice of John Ames in Gilead.
“There are two occasions when the sacred beauty of creation becomes dazzlingly apparent, and they occur together. One is when we feel our mortal insufficiency to the world, and the other is when we feel the world’s mortal insufficiency to us” (245). Your thoughts?
Augustine said, “The Lord loves each of us as an only child,” and that has to be true, Ames affirms. “He will wipe the tears from all faces. It takes nothing from the loveliness of the verse to say that is exactly what will be required.”
The word that jumps off the pages toward the close of the book is –- gratitude. Gratitude for those closest to him, gratitude in the realism of his life and death, gratitude for what will come for him and those he loves.
What are you grateful for? Maybe we could be intentional about expressing our gratitude not in spite of reality, but in the very middle of it.
It is wholly insufficient to capture this masterful work in a few short blog posts or to encapsulate two international trips and a poignant film in June. My hope has been that they have spurred our thinking in faithful ways and that it has in some small part, bound us together once again. That is, after all, the root of religion. Ligion means to be bound together, as in ligament, and re, of course, to do it again. To be bound together again and again is something for which I am grateful.
"Angel Statue" by Louise Docker from Sydney, Australia, via Wikimedia Commons
BY REV. TOMMY WILLIAMS, SENIOR PASTOR
At one point in Gilead, John Ames shares a summary of a sermon given on the story of Hagar and Ishmael and compared it with the story of Abraham going off with son Issac to sacrifice him, as he thought God wanted him to do (p. 128–129). These are strange, mysterious and even troubling stories. In each case, Ames says, Abraham was being asked to sacrifice his sons. In each case, angels are sent to intervene and rescue the child.
There are many directions you can go with his sermon but Ames’ point is this –- we are often asked to send our beloved ones out into wildernesses of many kinds –- the school hallway, the college dorm, the new job or marriage. Or, I think of the elderly neighbor whose own children are long gone from his household but who walks his dog and enjoys the play of children outdoors in his path. He sees them grow and move farther into the wilderness of life.
Throughout the book we're reading this month, we hear Ames ruminating at his late stage of life.
What season of life do you find yourself?
Who or what are you being asked to send out into life’s wilderness?
What is it requiring of you spiritually?
We entrust our beloved ones to the care of others. We entrust them to God. I don’t have a fleshed out theology of angelic beings. But, I have found myself lately praying for angels to come to my children’s school and keep watch.
Marilynne Robinson offers good theological questions through Rev. Ames in Gilead. On page 179, Ames is musing about the nature of God and existence and comes against a wall. To “prove” this is like trying to build a ladder to the moon. “It seems that it should be possible, until you stop to consider the nature of the problem.”
“Don’t look for proofs,” he concludes. “Don’t bother with them at all. They are never sufficient to the question, and they’re always a little impertinent… because they claim for God a place within our conceptual grasp.”
Samuel Coleridge said, “Christianity is a life, not a doctrine.” And yet, before that loaded word is easily dismissed, I wonder what ways doctrines (understandings of a particular faith tradition) are helpful or limited?
In what ways does Jesus both give us concept and context for knowing God and in what ways does Jesus deepen the mystery of knowing God?
I think Jesus does both. What do you think?
BY REV. TOMMY WILLIAMS
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” someone famously said. John Ames, Gilead’s main character, expresses two observations early in the book about beauty.
Is beauty something you notice more when you are dying like Ames? Is it something that can be awakened or reawakened in us in other moments? I hope so.
Worship in every place for me displays the beauty of God. I have worshipped in grand sanctuaries like at St. Paul’s, as well as house churches, warehouses and neighborhood churches. I’ve been in small chapels and in settings where the languages spoken were not my native tongue. In each, the beauty of God is on exhibit.
Even as Ames muses that he “doesn’t know what is beautiful anymore,” he names two experiences (p. 5) that are very different and each beautiful to him.
One is the sound of his wife singing to their child as he listens from the other room. He can’t make out what song she is singing but “it sounds beautiful to me, but she laughs when I say that.” I guess beauty doesn’t need corroboration. Maybe it really is in the eye (or ear!) of the beholder.
The next one Ames witnesses and claims is two young “rascally fellows” who work in a local mechanical garage. They are joking and leaning against the side of the garage as they go back and forth with each other laughing. He has no idea what they are talking about but the scene is “beautiful” to him. Laughter takes us over, he says, and letting it be unleashed is a beautiful thing to watch.
Are you awake to the beauty of God around you? Are you watching for the varied ways it shows up in the world and in our lives?
BY REV. TOMMY WILLIAMS
Throughout the month of August, I invite you to read Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. This powerful novel is addressed in the first person through the voice of John Ames, an elderly pastor who is dying. He writes to his son in poignant ways about his own relationships with his father and grandfather, his enculturation in a life of ministry, and now his musings on what his son is inheriting.
In some ways, it reminds me of TaNehisi Coates’ style in Between the World and Me, a fairly new book from father to son about the experience of being black in America. While the center of these fathers' letters to their sons is different, each are dosed with lament, melancholy, and wonder about what will become of the life of the next generation.
Is journaling or letter-writing a practice for you? It can be a spiritual practice of reflection and reconciliation. Writing something to God, to oneself, or to those you love can be a transformative exercise.
Consider doing that this month, asking:
- Where have I come from?
- How has it shaped my worldview?
- How is it shaping the worldview of those I love and care for?
- How might a Christ-centered worldview impact my own?
Holyrood Abbey, May 1996, via Wikimedia Commons user: Marco2000
BY REV. TOMMY WILLIAMS, SENIOR PASTOR
Today marks the end of our virtual pilgrimages to Bolivia and Scotland. Thank you for traveling with me this month. We'll close the July blog series with a final reflection from Scotland.
Back in 2008, one place my family and I visited was the ancient Holyrood (Holy Cross) Abbey.
It was an active congregation until the 17th century and is now a shell of itself--literally. I remember well walking inside the walls that remain and imagining the prayers said by faithful ones centuries ago. The Abbey sits on the grounds of the British Monarch’s Scottish residence. I wonder -- what prayers were said for the monarchs who visited there over the centuries?
What prayers would be said now in Scotland and throughout the United Kingdom, in light of England’s withdrawal from the European Union?
What prayers should we pray during this time of global change?
Let us join our voices with those of the past and remain committed to a life of prayer, believing that our prayers are themselves an act of vocation.
On my trip to Bolivia, I was fortunate to visit Emmanuel Church, our partner in Cochabamba, where our team from St. Paul's Youth has been serving this month. My memories are of it as a place alive!
Spiritual vitality. Children everywhere. Committed adults. A rich spiritual life amidst many communal challenges. Their faith was acute, very easy to identify--and the fruits of their life were evident before us--as we moved about the Emmanuel Church. Their witness of faith was palpable.
How apparent is our faith in speech and action?
Their ministries were very real for me. Whether through sewing or study, each was understood as an outgrowth of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
This reminds me to always understand that the roots of our work at St. Paul’s are from this same gospel. In contrast, a quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer is helpful here. He writes his observations about a church in New York City he visited in the 1920s:
"They preach about virtually everything; only one thing is not addressed, or is addressed so rarely that I have as yet been unable to hear it, namely, the gospel of Jesus Christ... So what stands in place of the Christian message? An ethical and social idealism borne by a faith in progress that--who knows how?--claims the right to call itself 'Christian'. And in the place of the church as the congregation of believers in Christ there stands the church as a social corporation. Anyone who has seen the weekly program of one of the large New York churches, with their daily, indeed almost hourly events, teas, lectures, concerts, charity events, opportunities for sports, games, bowling, dancing for every age group...
[Bonhoeffer continues] ... anyone who has become acquainted with the embarrassing nervousness with which the pastor lobbies for membership--that person can well assess the character of such a church... In order to balance out the feeling of inner emptiness that arises now and then (and partly also to refill the church's treasury), some congregations will if possible engage an evangelist for a 'revival' once a year. The church is really no longer the place where the congregation hears and preaches God's word, but rather the place where one acquires secondary significance as a social entity for this or that purpose" (Barcelona, Berlin, New York: 1928-1931, pg. 313-14).
Your thoughts?
St. Mary's Episcopal Cathedral, Edinburgh by dun_deagh via Wikimedia Commons
BY REV. TOMMY WILLIAMS, SENIOR PASTOR
St. Mary’s Cathedral was completed in 1879 and is now the center for the Anglican Church in Scotland. Of course, Christian life in Edinburgh endured for centuries beforehand, as cathedrals and church life moved between Catholicism, Presbyterianism, and the Anglican Communion. Each of those Christian traditions are alive and well today in Scotland.
I believe some 20th-century history of St. Mary’s Cathedral life is instructive for our life as a “cathedral for the city” of Houston.
- The Cathedral was known for starting new congregations in and around the city. They started six new ones in their first 20 years.
- They established several houses of hospitality for laborers at low rent costs.
- They continued theirfaithful rhythm of worship even during times of war.
- They were involved in the sharing of the faith during very trying post-war times.
During some periods, they were without electricity and continued with the very services and liturgies that our choir will be singing this week.
What other ways could we be an outward-facing “cathedral for our city"?
How has worship nurtured your life in dark times?
BY PHUC LUU, St. Paul's member and Director of Education, projectCURATE
When will the senseless shootings stop?
When will we put down our weapons
and see ourselves in each other?
When will we see your image in every life?
When will we embrace each as sister and brother, lovers and friends?
Lord, hear our prayer.
We are not against white people,
but we are for the victims, men and women of color.
We are not against government or police,
but we are for the protection of the innocent.
We are not against all lives,
but we are for the particular lives that have been made disposable,
to be feared, and to be used,
The lives of the ones who were slain.
Lord, hear our prayer.
Bring us peace,
Your kinship and compassion,
Your mercy and grace,
The politics of your reign,
The unity of your persons,
The holiness of your differences,
Your love for your creation,
In all its color and beauty
Stop the division.
Lord, make us one.
Lord, hear our prayer.
The Williams family in England, 2008
BY REV. TOMMY WILLIAMS, SENIOR PASTOR
In the summer of 2008, my family and I engaged in a pastoral exchange, trading places with a Methodist pastor in Manchester, England. I served for five weeks as pastor for a circuit of churches in the city.
During our time there, I had the opportunity to travel twice to Edinburgh, Scotland, where St. Paul’s Choir will be in residence at the Cathedral of St. Mary. Take a virtual tourof the Cathedral.
Mark your calendars to join our choir in prayer as they sing daily choral services in the Anglican tradition there at St. Mary's (July 11–18). And do check out Dr. Bill Kerley's blog as he too explores sacred spaces in Scotland.
Christ of Peace in Bolivia
BY REV. TOMMY WILLIAMS, SENIOR PASTOR
In November of 2001, as a pastoral intern at St. Paul’s, I was a part of a Bolivian mission team that served in Cochabamba and other villages for about 10 days.
St. Paul's UMC has well over 15 years as a partner congregation with Emmanuel Luz de Vida church and other Methodist congregations. One of our pastors, Rev. Nataly Negrete, is a native Bolivian. Missionaries Wilson and Nora Boots called Bolivia home for many years, and they now live full time in Houston.
Nearly every year we have sent a team. In just a few days time, on July 6, another team will depart for Bolivia and return again on July 18.
On my particular visit there, one holy site that struck me was the Cristo de la Concordia (Christ of Peace). It is over 112 feet tall. To stand underneath it is to be enveloped in the outstretched arms of Jesus.
I wonder what it feels like to live in Cochabamba under its watchful presence. Standing at its feet, for me, was a humbling experience, as it should be.
What reminders are around you of Christ’s presence? Do you have icons, Bibles, or other symbols around your home, car, place of work, that remind you of God’s presence with you?
If not, what sort of symbolic reminders could you integrate into your daily life?
BY REV. TOMMY WILLIAMS, SENIOR PASTOR
In the big Olympic gold medal game ("Of Miracles and Men") there is a power struggle taking place between two teams. The Soviet players reflecting on their loss say, “Can you imagine going from glory to disgrace in an instant?”
Theirs was the position of favorite and this loss on the biggest stage was devastating because of what it represented for their homeland.
How does it feel to have the tables turned on you? How have you reckoned with loss?
One of the players commented, “Maybe the gods deemed that day that the Americans deserved their own miracle on ice.”
It seems to me that this player was doing what we all do and that is to try to make meaning out of life. To make sense of something helps us to grapple with it. And then sometimes our own rationales don’t work or fit so we look beyond for that meaning.
In this same point in the film another Soviet player said, “We were watching them (the Americans) celebrate, looking deep down in our souls, what did we do wrong that we lost?”
What do you think about the theology inherent in the player’s statement?
Does God play that kind of role in our lives? If not, where do you experience God during celebration and loss?
BY REV. TOMMY WILLIAMS, SENIOR PASTOR
One thing that strikes me in “Of Miracles and Men” is the intense level of training undergone by and discipline required of the team. It isn’t surprising for a squad that excelled at this level to be so dedicated, but it is inspiring nonetheless. Throughout the film, we see the values of consistency, steadfastness, and rigorous commitment to their craft as key to their success.
Discipline and disciple come from the same root word. To be a disciple literally means to be an apprentice to a master. Being a Christian person means, then, to be an understudy (as would be said in the world of theatre and dance). A student to the one who is primary.
What does the life of Christian discipleship look like for you right now?
Most of us go in ebbs and flows, but perhaps there are steadying disciplines that can be maintained or started this summer that can ground your life of faith.
The founder of the Methodist movement, John Wesley, understood these disciplines as means of grace – ways we connect to God. Prayer, worship, study, the sacraments of baptism and communion, acts of mercy and justice: these disciplines and others give strength for living a faithful life.
Whether we are on the “losing” side or the “winning” side, our relationship with God is rooted deeply enough to weather the loss or the success... and each one’s pressures.
What spiritual disciplines could you begin or restart this summer?
Coach Tarasov and his players
BY TOMMY WILLIAMS, SENIOR PASTOR
We hear early in the film of the admiration the players had for their coach. The coach cultivated in them love, which was described in the film as “the strongest of feelings...and the most true” (watch video segment, 10:59-12:05).
How can we cultivate love in our households, in our neighborhoods, in our city, and world?
One way the movie hints toward doing this is that the level and intensity of training and discipline built them as a team together and increased their loyalty to one another.
They weren’t a perfect group of people. Their homeland was on the wrong side of the moral history in many ways. But, what can we learn from the players who lost this big game, about love and community? How is that translated into the life of faith?
BY TOMMY WILLIAMS, SENIOR PASTOR
This month of June, I invite you to watch the EPSN film, “Of Miracles and Men." I hope you’ll reflect with me here in the comments section of these blog posts throughout our Summer Together.
“Everyone was against us…”
Many of the players from the Soviet team were interviewed for this movie. They were thought to be invincible, unbeatable, and yet they were also reviled as the team from behind the Iron Curtain in the middle of the Cold War.
Early on we hear one of the players say, “Everyone was against us for a certain reason – we were born in a certain place.”
What comes to mind for you when you hear this quote? Do we create caricatures or stereotype people depending on their places of origin?
Have you ever felt typecast because of where you come from?
Jesus was known for crossing boundaries of all kinds – into places like Samaria, into the homes of the despised, and with people otherwise scorned (LUKE 10:25-37 | LUKE 7:36-8:3)
Who is God leading you to befriend despite boundaries and place?
BY REV. TOMMY WILLIAMS
JUNE | Watch the ESPN 30 for 30 short film “Of Miracles and Men.” The historic American Olympic Hockey upset of the Soviet team during the 1980 games is the stuff of legend. This movie tells it from the losing side and chronicles the impact of the loss on the members of the famed Soviet squad. For us, we will explore the themes of shame, loss, faith and more.
JULY | Go with me (virtually) to Scotland where St. Paul’s Choir will be in residence at St. Mary’s Cathedral in Edinburgh. Even though I won’t be with them physically, it is a place I have spent some time. The interactive blog and video will be a virtual pilgrimage through holy Christian sites there.
AUGUST | Finally, let’s read Marilynne Robinson’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel Gilead. Its themes of community, family, and the legacies we leave, will be ripe for our reflections.