In the Afternoon

By Rev. Kay Ash

It is hard for me to remember a time when I was not surrounded by the wonder of children.  There have always been children:  the sound of their voices, the energy of their presence, the delight that comes from their perspective.  I am so thankful that throughout my lifetime there have been lots of children, mostly because I really love children, but also, because it is through children that I best experience God.

Growing up here in Oak Cliff, close to Kiest Park, I had that kind of up-bringing where everybody on the block watched over me like a mom, none of our doors were locked, fireflies or cicadas were caught in mason jars and the dozens of kids were just like family.  Not to mention, the more than two dozen cousins who were my actual family and who “dropped by” so much that I thought they lived with us.  There were so many of us at our epic nightly hide-and-go-seek extravaganzas that we did not always “find” everybody before dark.  No matter what, we were safe and we were loved.  

Of course, you would be right if you accuse me of romanticizing my childhood, but I do have such wonderful memories of Oak Cliff.  However, if we strip away the sentimentality and my rose-colored glasses, those foundational parts of my childhood planted the seeds of ministry shared with KPUMC today.  When unconditional love is shared, it often blossoms in unexpected ways.

The experiences that I remember most vividly, where I found God most often, happened in the afternoons (I really mean EVERY afternoon).  After school or on hot summer days the kids would gather on the front steps of my house.  I am 100% sure this had a lot to do with the cupcakes or cookies that were coming out of the oven at the same time, which were washed down with gallons of extra-sugared Kool-Aid.  Besides the sweet treats, my Mom taught children to read.  

Slowly but surely, word after painstakingly difficult word, all of us took turns learning to read Little Golden books.  Perhaps it was the goodies, but no one complained; we just tried, day after day.  Some were faster than others and some were confident where others were shy. But, in those gatherings, we were equal to each other and unconditionally loved.  

My Mom continued this practice for decades after I grew up and moved away.  She believed so strongly in education, something she yearned for herself.  I truly have no idea how many children sat on our front steps over the years.  I do know that all of them read, all of them ate gobs of sugar, and all of them experienced the sacred, holy, unmistakable presence of God.  I am extra sure of this because so many of them told me at my mother’s graveside.  

On the front steps of my home in Oak Cliff, I learned what the presence of God feels like; what is looks like, tastes like, sounds like and how enthusiastically God shows up, even in the midst of sweaty little kids.  It was within these foundational experiences that the seeds of ministry blossomed into the hopes and dreams of Kingdom Come that we share today.  I am so thankful to be back in the Oak Cliff area and so very thankful to have the privilege of serving at KPUMC.  By the way, have you noticed?  The people here at KPUMC are amazing!  Let’s get together on an afternoon sometime soon.

A Mini-Resurrection

By the time you read this, a refugee family of seven from Afghanistan will be safely settled in their new home in Dallas, Texas.

Over the last week, a Catalyst Group from KPUMC has been hard at work getting a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment in north Dallas ready for their arrival. Oscar Brown and Mary Ann Climer went shopping for furniture at some resale shops and found a beautiful dining room set, couches, and other assorted pieces. Mary Ann found housewares at Goodwill, and bought fresh groceries to fill the refrigerator and pantry. Bev Sladek and I made up the beds, put contact paper in the kitchen shelves, and put books and toys out for the children. Sally Climer had a meal prepared for their arrival last night (Wednesday).

I think of the preparation work as especially appropriate for Holy Week. During these days in which we observe the suffering and death of Jesus Christ, our church has been working on behalf of a family which has suffered much in the preceding years. We know very little about this family, except that they are from Afghanistan, have five children — four boys from the age of 13 to 6, and a two—year old daughter. We also know that the father had worked alongside US Special Ops forces, and for that reason, his identity must be kept secret as much as possible. We don’t know yet what they have experienced over the past seventeen years — since the US began military operations in Afghanistan — but we can safely assume that things became untenable for them to stay.

And even though we can also safely assume that they are Muslims, I would like to suggest that their arrival in the US is a kind of Easter moment for them. They are about to experience a sort of mini-resurrection, a chance for them to start again. Here in Dallas they will be able to enroll all their children in school, find meaningful employment, and begin to dream of the future.

That’s what Easter is about, isn’t it? In the resurrection of Jesus, we have the perfect symbol and guarantee of the possibility of new life. What our refugee family from Afghanistan is experiencing right now, is something that you and I can experience as well right now.

New life, setting aside the past, repentance, leaving behind old ways of being and thinking — all of this is possible because Jesus has broken the power of death and sin. We don’t have to remain mired in the muck of the world’s dysfunction. We are renewed and empowered by the Holy Spirit to be “resettled” into a new place, a safe space that we recognize as home.

Come home to Jesus this Easter. Come home to yourself.

Jesus Sang the Blues

If you follow me on social media, you know that I am a big U2 fan, and have been for years. Bono, the lead singer of Irish rock group U2, once wrote an introduction to a special edition of the Book of Psalms in which he suggested that David was the original bluesman:

“At age 12, I was a fan of David. He felt familiar, like a pop star could feel familiar. The words of the psalms were as poetic as they were religious, and he was a star — a dramatic character, because before David could fulfill the prophecy and become the king of Israel, he had to take quite a beating. He was forced into exile and ended up in a cave in some no-name border town facing the collapse of his ego and abandonment by God. But this is where the soap opera got interesting. This is where David was said to have composed his first psalm — a blues. That’s what a lot of the psalms feel like to me — the blues. Man shouting at God — ‘My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me? Why art thou so far from helping me?’ (Psalm 22).”

As an art form, blues music fascinates me. I don’t listen to it all the time, but it is a very particular style that is suited to certain times and moods. I happen to think that it is especially appropriate during Lent.

That’s why seven years ago, when I was pastor of the contemporary service at FUMC Rowlett, I introduced a service called “Jesus Sang the Blues” which I debuted on Palm Sunday. Two years in a row, we celebrated this special service, in which our contemporary band played the blues, and we focused on the story of Jesus’ suffering.

I’m excited about unveiling the service here at Kessler Park UMC this Sunday. The 11:00 am service will be outdoors on the east lawn. We’ve set up a stage against the building, where the Pat Boyack Band will be playing a number of blues tunes in our service, including “Peace in the Valley” and “People Get Ready,” as well as the classic hymns, “Just a Closer Walk With Thee” and “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.” (Pat Boyack is the husband of our office administrator, Yvonne.)

Why the blues on Palm Sunday? For one, Palm Sunday is also known as Passion Sunday, and it is liturgically appropriate to not only observe Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, but also Jesus’ suffering leading up to the crucifixion (known as the “passion”).

If you are one of those churchgoers who only attends Sunday worship, and not the special services throughout Holy Week, you could possibly go from Palm Sunday to Easter and never hear much about the pain that Jesus experienced on his final days. That would be unfortunate, because the death of Jesus is just as important as the resurrection of Jesus. To put it another way, you can’t really understand the joy of Easter unless you have also experienced the despair and hopelessness of Good Friday and Holy Saturday.

The point of observing “Jesus Sang the Blues” on Passion Sunday is to remind ourselves of Jesus’ vulnerability during the darkest days of his life. Jesus went through the complete range of difficult emotions on that last week — betrayal, abandonment, bitterness, torture, depression, and a bleak death on a cross. While hanging on that cross, he shouted a line from Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

That cry has been heard time and time again throughout history, from the victims of wars, the survivors of natural catastrophes, the oppressed and the poor. That cry has come to full expression in the writings of the prophets, the words of the poets, and the music of those who play and sing the blues.

When we see that Jesus sang the blues, then we come to the startling realization that Jesus has completely identified himself with the human situation. Jesus was truly one of us; and not just “one of us,” but one of the least. He was condemned, humiliated, cast aside, and marginalized.

Jesus suffered, too.

Jesus cried and shouted and protested his innocence, too.

Jesus railed against God, too.

All of that is true of Jesus, just as it is often true of me and you. Holy Week is not just about the suffering of Jesus, which was hardly unique; it’s about human suffering, and the ways in which we torment ourselves and each other.

Sometimes there’s nothing left to do but sing the blues …

(If you're not into the blues or not interested in worshipping outdoors, there will also be a traditional Palm Sunday service with Holy Communion in the church sanctuary at 8:30 am.)