Walk to Emmaus

This weekend I am sponsoring a pilgrim on the Walk to Emmaus, a three day spiritual retreat to help folks experience the wondrous love of God while being invited to go deeper and to become disciples of Jesus Christ.

I went on my walk in April of 2009. It was a critical time for me as I was in discernment about the direction God was leading me in my calling as a pastor. I knew my time at Friedens Church of Washington was growing to a close, but I was unsure where my next call would be. Would I take the safer, more predictable road towards serving an existing congregation? Or would I choose the path of new church ministry, jump off that cliff in faith to start something new?

God had always nagged me in the back of my mind about starting a new church, a seed planted years ago that just wouldn’t go away. I can be sort of restless, daring at times. I often get frustrated with “organized religion,” even though I love the church. Plus, we have forgotten that it’s really all about Jesus. If we just act like Jesus—follow him—we’d do much better.

Anyway, the Walk to Emmaus had a profound impact on me, and I was touched by the unbelievable, wondrous love of our Lord. It’s really quite an experience, and I highly recommend it to anyone. And boy do you get fired up for Jesus! It’s amazing how the Holy Spirit works through the walk. And I’ve worked walks. It’s humbling, and it is so great to see all this focus on showing God’s love and grace, on living it, like our own piece of heaven, living and breathing the Kingdom in the here and now.

At the Walk to Emmaus, pilgrims go through a series of 15 talks, each one building on the other, leading one to a fuller understanding of discipleship. Along the walk, there are a series of worship experiences designed to augment the journey. Communion and prayer are shared along the way, and there is lots of singing. The music is wonderful!

But the secret is in the fellowship as you become closer to those at your table, so much so that you feel comfortable with one another, even willing to share your deepest thoughts, be yourself, the real you. It’s amazing, and it creates the space in our hearts that is needed for God to work a transformation.

Here I was, with a bunch of guys, who are pretty tight-lipped and guarded to begin with, who by the middle and end of their walk are crying and leaning on one another and praising God in sacred communion like you’ve never seen before. Click here to watch a short video about Walk to Emmaus.

This safe space is something I have woven into the creation of Hope United. We make a huge deal about being welcoming, meeting folks wherever they are at on their journey, inviting them to go deeper. For when the walls come down, real change can happen. God’s grace is always available, but the truth is sometimes we have to be in the right Spirit before we are able to hear God’s voice.

I’ve seen much on my journey, and I give thanks to God for all of my journey, both the mountain top experiences and those times I’ve been in the valley. And as I continue on the path of life, I look forward to the ways God reveals God’s self along the way.
They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he [Jesus] was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” -Luke 24:32
 
I am part of the Brazos Valley Emmaus Community. Click here to visit their website. Click here to watch a short video about Walk to Emmaus.

Ron Trimmer is pastor of Hope United, a new church in Georgetown, Texas. Click here to visit Hope United’s website.

When a Young Person Dies

So last Tuesday, I attended a funeral at Friedens Church of Washington, the church I used to serve. It was for a young man, William Lehrmann, who died just a month shy of his 26th birthday. I had William in confirmation, and though that was over 10 years ago, I can still picture him sitting in the room where we had class, quiet and reserved, yet always thinking … always thinking. The boy was bright, gifted even. I’m told he had a photographic memory. But being able to recall obscure facts or remember gobs of information was not his strongest attribute. It was the way he saw things—his perspective. Every so often, he’d ask a question, a very interesting question, one which showed a depth of understanding, approached usually from a bizarre angle. An onlooker may think he was just being odd or obtuse, but William was a serious thinker, and I greatly valued his insight, his perspective, his noble quest for understanding.

In my own view, this gift to be able to see things differently, a sort of “third way,” or bird’s eye view, is one of the rarest and most precious gifts of our Creator. Often misunderstood or taken as out-of-touch or just plain weird, such folks can see into this world with alarming precision, unmasking the truth from a sea of mirages. Their wisdom and insight is not often seen (or heeded) at the moment, but only with the passage of time do we give credence to their perspective.

At the funeral, I learned William claimed the life of the “road less traveled,” expressed so eloquently in Robert Frost’s poem. I see this to be true, and I am glad that William came to understand this about himself.

Though I have never had to preside at the funeral of a young person, I am not a stranger to the gravity of the loss and grief, emptiness and aimlessness. A friend of mine committed suicide when he was not yet 21, and Mark’s death had a profound impact on me, especially on my faith. Indeed, it was only in the pit of despair, the time I felt farthest away from our Creator, that God was ever able to quiet my soul and help me to latch on to the grace that frees us all. I do not wish that crisis of faith on anyone, so gut-wrenching as your very soul wrestles with the purpose of life. And yet, I also know that as stubborn and arrogant as we human beings are, sometimes it is only when we are in the belly of the whale that we can ever realize our dependency on the Lord. I pray for those near to William, that they will find their strength in God.

Still, it is so sad when a young person dies. You feel so bad for the family and friends, especially the parents. I can still see Mark’s mom during the funeral service, doubled over as she was, crying out in anguish, a kind of wail that comes from deep within the soul.

And then selfishly, you think of your own life. I’m a parent now. I wasn’t when Mark died, but I am now, and I don’t even want to think about the possibility that Ben or Aaron could die.

And when a young person dies, it disrupts our sense of the way the world should be. It’s so unfair, so utterly unfair.

If you are looking for words from me to explain all this, to answer, “why?” then I’m sorry, but I’m just as helpless in this as the rest of us.

But I do know this. If we are open to it, God can help us get through the trials of this life. The Lord doesn’t take the storms away; God helps us to weather them. Maybe that helps and maybe it doesn’t at this particular time in your life. And yet, one of the greatest gifts of God is that our Lord understands. Even when we don’t have the words to say, the words to even think cause the pain is so intense that we’re just numb, God hears the groaning of our hearts.

The family shared something William had written when he applied for law school. Interestingly, he wrote about his grandfather. Strange how he could have just as easily been talking about his own life and premature death.

On a cold day in February of 2003, my grandfather died. It was a premature ending to a life lived with passion, drive and purpose. … His life well-lived, yet a passion never quite satisfied. … Now that I stand on the brink of graduation, I understand his urgency and sense of immediacy. Life does pass by much too quickly, and our objectives must be clear, well-defined and urgent. In reviewing my own life, I find the common themes of honor, tradition and purpose mirror those of my grandfather. … Never one to just blindly follow, I have always taken the less traveled road and have sometimes been forced to walk alone. I am not afraid or ashamed to take my own path; I believe in doing the right thing. My parents say that I was “born old,” but I think that perhaps I was “born stubborn.” I do not believe in doing the wrong thing, and I do not have much tolerance for those that do. I believe in honesty, integrity, simplicity and character. These tenants make up the backbone of the individual. With these principles, everything else can be taught; without them, there is really no need to teach anything. In life, character is everything.

William—rest in peace. You lived more fully in your short life than most ever live. I will miss you.

My prayers are with the family and friends of William, especially his parents, Hollis and Elizabeth, and his sisters Victoria and Alex. May the loving presence of our God give you strength and comfort in your grief, and may you discover again the power of grace.

But now thus says the Lord,
   he who created you, O Jacob,
   he who formed you, O Israel:
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
   I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
   and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
   and the flame shall not consume you.
For I am the Lord your God,
   the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
     -Isaiah 43:1-3a

Ron Trimmer is pastor of Hope United, a new church in Georgetown, Texas. Click here to visit Hope United’s website.

Hope for the Homeless

Given the abundance of wealth in our nation, it is unfathomable to me that we have so many poor. And I believe such blatant inequality is not just wrong; it is utterly sinful. Everything in my being, every bit of my knowledge and faith in Jesus Christ, everything I know of God, convinces me that our Lord deeply cares for all people. And if God shows any partiality it is to the poor, to the weak, the oppressed, and the disenfranchised. In the Hebrew, one word that describes God’s quality and being is hesed, which is translated mercy or compassion. Another word that is central to describing God is mishpah, which means justice and/or judgment. This is God’s will—what God wants and works for: justice. And before you start pulling out some Old Testament, fire and brimstone, kind of God, I want you to go back to your bible and substitute the word justice (or establish justice) for everywhere you see judgment.

Justice is imperative to God, and when there is injustice, God gets angry. Further, our Lord works to end injustice, speaking through prophets and nations, working through ordinary people like you and me.

Even as a youth, I felt deep compassion for all those who suffer, whether it be from war and violence, or economic or social injustice, or simply did not have adequate food, water, health care, and shelter.

Jesus cares, and we who are followers of Jesus must care too.
 

When I was at Iowa State, finishing up my M.S. in Mathematics, I took a part-time job at the local homeless shelter, The Emergency Residence Project. I was so impressed with their work, and I was especially impressed (and inspired) by their director, Vic Moss. Vic was a Jesus figure for me—for he truly exhibited that selfless compassion and Spirit that only comes from God. Vic cared for the least of these, and he would do everything in his power (and more) to help people. Where others tried to convince themselves that the homeless didn’t exist or that they were less than human or even that they deserved to be in their situation cause they were a drunk or just plain lazy, Vic showed no partiality, only compassion and grace.

I learned many of the homeless have poor social skills, mental illness, and often cannot get along with others very well. Certainly, some struggle with some kind of chemical dependence, but that is not the norm. And of course, many are veterans, still living out the horrors of their service to a nation that doesn’t give them the care they need.

The men I met at that shelter were not lazy. Virtually all of them worked. Yes, they worked. It might be temp jobs or construction ones, often taken advantage of by their employers. But they worked. They just could not make it.

Anyone can become homeless. Anyone. If you couple the loss of your job and the loss of your health, your savings can disappear very quickly as mounting medical bills add up. It can happen to anyone, and it certainly is not their fault.

About 6 years ago, when I was on sabbatical, I came to Austin and volunteered at Lifeworks at their drop-in center for homeless kids. They too have a range of issues to deal with. Sadly, many are kicked out of their homes because of their sexual orientation. Others come from abusive situations. But actually there are a large number who come from foster home. When a kid in foster care turns 18, he doesn’t get aid anymore. He’s stuck and out of luck. Up to 18, the state will find a home for him, but not after. Can you imagine totally breaking off from your children when they turn 18? How can they survive? College, even with a scholarship, is beyond their grasp. And what kind of job can they find? Flipping burgers at McDonald’s at minimum wage? You think you can live off that?

Coming to Georgetown, I knew Georgetown had homeless too. Oh, they might seem invisible, but they’re here. Because Georgetown has an ordinance against letting them beg on the side of the road, you don’t see them as much.

And there are also kids. Thus far, we’ve held 2 prayer vigils for homeless kids. I’ve tried to advocate for the homeless, been able to get some press for them, and wrote opinions in the Sun. Thankfully, we now have the Eagle Locker and the Nest, which is supported by the Georgetown Project. Hope United continues to support these. And we have helped specific people too.

There’s one right now. The spouse of one of our members got to know a boy at Eastview High School. Let’s call him “Stephen.” Stephen is a good student at Eastview. Like many other kids, he’s involved in activities at school. He’s just like any other kid there. But he’s homeless. He's a "couch surfer." He basically stays at friend's homes, often moving from one to another. Couch surfer's never have any certitude about where they are going to stay. They can easily wear out their welcome, not because of bad behavior, just because sooner or later the host realizes they can’t stay forever.

So talking with Stephen, we know he has specific needs:

He needs shoes, size 10.5, with one pair in black, cause he plays in the band. He could also use socks and underwear, size small. And gift cards are great—to H.E.B. or Wal-mart so he can buy food and toiletries. Even gift cards to fast food places would be helpful—he’s still a kid and would like to hang out with friends!

You can email me if you want to help Stephen, or bring items to worship at Hope United and we’ll get them to him.

“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” -Matthew 25:37-41

Ron Trimmer is pastor of Hope United, a new church in Georgetown, Texas. Click here to visit Hope United’s website.