Monday, June 21, 2021

Trinity River Trail: Highlights and History

 
The Uniqueness of the River Dallas has Struggled to Understand

  • The Trinity’s watershed constitutes the largest urban forest in the United States.
  • Empties near Galveston
  • Dries up and floods (“untamable”)
  • “Pins” poor communities and especially communities of color against its boundaries and interstates (creating food deserts, etc.)

What’s in a Name?


The Caddo of North Texas called it the Arkikosa; closer to the coast, it was called the Daycoa. French explorers called it, “The River of Canoes.” 1690 Spanish explorer Alfonso De León names the river La Santisima Trinidad - the Most Holy Trinity.


Becoming Big D


1830 President Andrew Jackson signs the Indian Removal Act

1836 First steamboat attempts

1841 General Tarrant leads massacre of Caddo Indians on the banks of the Trinity.

1841 Dallas is established.


After the Civil War


1873 Freeman’s town of Joppa is established - between the Trinity River / Great Trinity Forest and railroad tracks (now also flanked by dumps, wastewater treatment facilities, shingle mtn)

About this same time, the thriving black community of Glen Hill was founded in Rockwall. The community’s cemetery, which you can still see today, is among the oldest African-American cemeteries in North Texas.

1893 Steamboat Harvey completes trip from Galveston to Dallas

1896 Church founded in Forney


20th Century Developments


1908 Flood of 1908

1919 Beginnings of Bonton neighborhood

1930s/40s Canal and steamboat ambitions fade

1968 Lake Ray Hubbard (a dammed portion of the Trinity) is completed.

1973 HTbtL moves to Heath




Monday, June 14, 2021

What Good are Summers, for the Church?

Excerpted from my June Report to the Holy Trinity Vestry.

My seven years in campus ministry forced me to confront an uncomfortable question related to summers, namely, “What do you do with them?” The students were gone (mostly). Colleagues from other churches with whom I would ordinarily partner were taking turns on vacation (as was I). Why bother doing anything in the summer?

The answer I came to receive is that 1) it’s good to be confronted with seasons of reluctant rest and 2) the summer is an ideal time to try new things without the burden of unrealistic expectations. (Have y’all ever heard the “joke” about every Episcopal event being “The First Annual?” Ha.) But summer can be different, if we let it. We can explore. We can give the reigns over to new leaders, for a short-term project. We can invite members inside and outside of our faith community, maybe folks from different services who wouldn’t otherwise cross paths, to come together for, say, a Spanish learning class. In other words, we can experiment, have fun, and maybe discover a couple of things that will stick, in one form or another, when the rhythms of fall return. Imagined this way, summer is less about letting up and more about opening up – especially to the new possibilities of God.

All of the above is the spirit in which the events I’ve organized, under Adult Christian Formation, are conceived. I’ve been delighted to discover game planning partners, new leaders, and some familiar leaders taking on new roles! As we continue to share these pop-up opportunities, please participate as you are able (recognizing, again, it’s summer…), but also by encouraging the folks you see participating and leading in their different ways. It’s a discerning, for sure, and the planting of new seeds of faith.

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PARTICULAR MINISTRY NOTES

As ever, this report tries to limit itself to my 3 areas of primary responsibility: 1) Worship Coordination, 2) Adult Formation, and 3) Staff Development. 

WORSHIP

Since my last report…

o   We’ve seen the return of wine to Communion (cups and trays) and we’ve moved to ‘masks optional.’ I’m grateful to Kathy Roemisch, our fearless altar guild director, for her flexibility and patience as we fine tune the wine preparation process, etc. Our ushers and acolytes have likewise been wonderfully receptive to small tweaks I’ve introduced to streamline the process.

o   We’re singing again! The return of the choir has been a wonderfully emotional gift.

o   Newcomers and visitors continue to bless Holy Trinity’s doors. I can think of 7 folks, just from the last two weeks, with our informal 8 month tally at something like 30 folks. Fr. Keith plans to introduce a welcome committee, to support and continue the work of greeters, as well an Inquirers Class, in the fall.

ADULT CHRISTIAN FORMATION

Several things that, in the last report, presented as ideas now wonderfully exist as community-wide events. As you’re able, we’d love your participation and support:

o   June 19 Trinity River Trail Hike, meeting at 10am at the Joppa Preserve. I’m especially grateful to Bob Quimby for happily agreeing to help us spot native plant life along the walk! We’ll additionally look at the history of the river, how it has shaped settlement, and what all this means for loving our neighbors well.

o   July 10 Bonton Farm Service Saturday. I’m still lining up details for this event, but it will be a Saturday morning project (~9-12pm) in conjunction with their monthly Service Saturdays.

o   First Sundays at Santa Natividad. I am organizing monthly trips of interested parishioners over the summer months, for their 5am bilingual service. Remaining dates are July 4 and Aug 1.

o   Beginners Spanish brown bag lunches. Began last Thursday! We’ll continue through Thursdays in June and July. Huge thanks to Zoe Holmes for agreeing to teach (I think she kind of loves it). Interest has been strong, she’s a wonderful teacher, and it’s bringing people together from different corners of the parish.

STAFF DEVELOPMENT

The staff gathers June 15 for our ½ day mini-retreat looking ahead to the fall. As Fr. Keith observed to me the other day, this is the first true fall I have been in place to prepare for at Holy Trinity (I arrived mid-August in 2019, and 2020 was, well, 2020). Add to that that Lauren and Jordan both arrived after me, the adjustments we have made as a staff around the communications position, and this is the first true fall for this team.

As many successes as we have to celebrate from this past year (and I believe there are many!), the season ahead represents new opportunities for HTbtL. We continue to grow in communication and connection, with each other and the congregation, and to a person we can’t wait to see what God would show us, how God would grow us, in the season ahead.

So grateful, as always, for each of you and the body we are together.

Every blessing, and God’s good peace.

Fr. J

 


 

Sunday, June 13, 2021

The Kingdom of God is Like - Being Surprised

The readings for this Sunday are here (track 2). 

Jesus said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how.”

Some years ago, a young man walked into the Episcopal student center I directed at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. And he might have walked in for any one of a million reasons. Maybe he finally saw the chalkboard sign I’d put on the sidewalk every one of the other 999 days he’d walked by without turning in. Maybe he’d finally seen our social media posts. Maybe a friend had caught his ear with an invitation and he listened. Maybe he had learned about our outreach projects and come to believe that a community known to its friends for love without strings might be able to make room in love for him, too. Maybe his class had been canceled. Maybe it was because I’d propped the front door open 130 degrees, and not only 105. Maybe he had to pee and we had a bathroom. Who knows why anybody does anything, really. So I asked him.


Hey friend. What brings you in today? He looked at me nervously. 


Shrugged his shoulders. I don’t know, he said. I’ve walked by this place 1,000 times and never once thought about coming in. But today. I don’t know why I’m here. 


“Friend,” I said, slowly remembering Jesus' words about the imperceptible seed that precedes all of our efforts, “Do you need a place to pray?” He looked up at me, with visible relief on his face. Yes. That was it. Yes, he said. I would like that a lot.


“The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he doesn't know how.”


It is not always easy to say we don’t know how. We’ve been taught to believe we should know how, we must know how, but believing we know how can sometimes blind us to the invisible thing that’s actually happening. Can cause us to lose sight of the One whose first action we are always attending. The young man came through the doors that day because God was calling him in the beautiful, patient, and relentless way God does.


My own first year of college, I found myself in a village called Taize, chaperoning a group of high schoolers from our church, on pilgrimage. Our group of twelve or so met up with two thousand others, mostly young adults, for the week we would share in rhythms of prayer and work together. One afternoon, a large group of us from a host of English speaking countries were talking with one of the brothers who lives in the religious community there. During a poorly structured Q and A, one of the teenagers cut to the chase, the elephant in the room so large we didn’t see it until he said it, but inevitable when you invite two thousand teenagers to hang out with a hundred religious brothers. “Why did you do it?” he asked. “I mean, really, no wife or kids. No real job. No future. It’s just. You don’t even own stuff, right? Weren’t your parents disappointed when you told them? I'm planning on being a doctor. I know how disappointed my parents would be if I just up and threw my life away.”


The brother smiled a true smile that bore an absolute kindness and told us how, one day, he came upon the story Jesus told about a pearl of great price. I tiny thing that everyone else had missed. Of so much worth to the man who found it that he looked around and couldn’t believe his eyes, that no one else saw the treasure, too. So he went home, sold all that he had, and bought the field for the treasure it contained. I have found the pearl, the brother said simply.


Jesus says the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed so small no one thinks to value it, because they do not see the life it will sustain. A moment so small as to be misjudged inconsequential. So they don’t value it for what it is, which is the source of all true value. But, no worry, this seed grows anyway, even while they are sleeping, apart from anything they do. It’s a humbling thought, that things we overlook or undervalue are often nearer the heart of God than the things we exchange them for. It’s a heart-holding thought - a heart-sustaining thought - that the mercy of God continues in this world and in our lives, regardless.


I sometimes wear a tiny leaf around my neck to remember all these things about God’s kingdom. For me, it takes a visual reminder because my world is full of strong nudges and loud arguments in the opposite direction. Arguments like, “The bigger the better.” And “dress to impress.” “Make a big splash.” And, “If a thing goes well, it’s to my credit. It’s because I did the hard work and finally got the thing right.” And sometimes these things might be true. But these things are not as true as we often think. And, more importantly, says Jesus, these things are not what the kingdom of God is like.


The kingdom of God, says Ezekiel, is the sprout from the stump that no one prepared for because it was the radical thing we did not see coming. The reality that lived on the other side of our hopes, so wild as to be just out of reach of even our prayers. The unexpected new life after the old life appeared to be felled. The kingdom of God is like being surprised.


So now there’s a tree from a mustard seed so small that Jesus has to remind them of their relation. A strong tree to join all the others in scripture, with room in its branches for birds, joining the tree in the garden of Eden, at the story’s beginning. Joining the timbers Noah used in obedience to his Lord to fashion the lifeboat of salvation, prefiguring - we are told - our baptism and the saving life found here. A tree to join the oaks under which Sarah and Abraham opened their hearts and their table to strangers from strange lands and later discovered that, opening their hearts to strangers, they had opened their hearts and their table to God. A tree to join the tree, in Revelation, growing on both banks of the river, the river whose streams make glad the city of God.


It is a hard thing to receive, that we are not as good at identifying the things that make a moment meaningful, what makes a moment what it is, much less successful, as we would like to believe. A harder thing to accept that these ingrained habits of misidentification sometimes blind us to true things about God. The God who preferred the whisper and the quiet to the earthquake and fire. But once we do receive this, our eyes can be opened to grace such that striving finally surrenders to thanksgiving and the joy of the new life we did not predict.


The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground. And Christ is the seed on the ground. The One in whose branches we are learning to live. “Very truly,” he told them, “unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” We find this fruit at this table, and here at the cross, standing at the center of the scriptures' sacred trees. Behold, the wood of the cross, we pray, on which was hung the world’s salvation. To gaze on this cross, we are told - a cross, of all things - is to begin to be healed.


It’s radical how much unlearning this story, these trees, require of us. Like the bigger the better. Like dress to impress. But instead, he was despised and we esteemed him not. Still the seed, the treasure, we so often miss, is undeterred by our not seeing. Instead, the stone the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone. And his love now makes us one, that is, calls us into a church made of living stones, where we will be like him.


The 2nd century Christian apologist Justin Martyr describes the lives of those whose eyes are trained on Jesus in this way:


We who ourselves used to have pleasure in impure things now cling to chastity alone. We who dabbled in arts of magic now consecrate ourselves to the good and unbegotten God. We who formerly treasured money and possessions more than anything else now hand everything over to the treasury for all, and share it with everyone who has need. We who formerly cheated and murdered one another and did not even share our home with those who were different or from a different tribe, because of their customs, now, after Christ's appearance, live together and share the same table. Now we pray for our enemies and try to win those who hate us unjustly so that they too may live in accordance with Christ's wonderful teachings, that they too might enter into the expectation.


That they might enter into the expectation. Because for too long we stood outside it. They, yes, but us, too. No matter, though, it grew. Look alive, and take heart. The kingdom of God has come near. And the kingdom of God is like being surprised. 


Amen.


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