Archive for June, 2009

Ring of Fire

Monday, June 29th, 2009

If I remember the old Johnny Cash song correctly, it was exciting to try to get inside the ring of fire, but you could get burned, too. As a member of the clergy, it’s been a long time since I visited a church where my name wasn’t on the stationery, but I have a pretty good memory.

When I started as a pastor in Dallas, I asked for my first Sunday off so that I could visit as many churches as possible. My wife and daughter wisely bowed out of this mini-marathon, but my son, who was about 6 at the time, agreed to go with me. We looked at church schedules, calculated distances and driving times, and made a plan. We got up extra early Sunday morning, put on our best clothes, and set off. The first place we visited wanted us to come back very badly. Their attitude toward first time visitors was about the same as the mother waiting for her daughter’s gentleman caller in The Glass Menagerie. In other words, they were desperate for new members and they knew it.
In their desperation, they didn’t see me at all, just a warm body.

Our next stop was a huge church with a prestigious reputation and a well-known and powerful senior pastor. We noticed a huge Oriental rug in the reception area, heard dazzling musical selections, spirited congregational singing, and excellent preaching.
This was a busy church, with busy people inside. It soon became apparent that they were way too busy for us. We attempted to introduce ourselves to other people, but it didn’t work. Later, I coined a phrase for our experience. I called it the “chopped liver” effect, as in “What am I, chopped liver?” Years later I came to know the pastors of that church and many parishioners very well. They couldn’t imagine how they could have been so unfriendly. I reminded them that this was not the case. They were simply too busy to be welcoming.

Another visit involved a church of a different, but similar denomination than my own.
The building turned out to be a stunner architecturally. The people were very well-heeled, and I began to refer to the congregation in my mind as “Our Lady of Ralph Lauren” church, which as you will see, was not fair. My son and I were warmly greeted, and even after I explained that I was already committed to another place of worship, parishioners wrote us many warm notes thanking us for visiting and stating that they were praying for us. The short scripture quotes they included in their notes gave their promises authenticity. I ended up wishing that I could join that church.

I’m not sure what kind of advice to give people who are looking for a church, getting ready to step into that particular “ring of fire.” How about, be patient? Remember that the people inside are only human, just like you. That’s it. They are really just like you. How about some advice for churches who want to be more welcoming? My own church probably struggles, prays, and worries over that issue as much as any other. It seems to me that a church with people who are not too busy to see the visitor, then see the visitor as a person, and find genuine, caring ways of welcoming, will turn a ring of fire into a potential church home. And we all need a home, don’t we?

Rev. Richard W. Dow, Senior Pastor
St. Mark’s Lutheran Church

Riding Green by Katherine Stevens

Wednesday, June 17th, 2009
Bike Commuter

Bike Commuter

Wikipedia describes going green, much like environmentalism, as “a broad philosophy and social movement centered on a concern for the conservation and improvement of the natural environment.”  Put in layman’s terms, it’s the importance of protecting our beloved mother nature.  So, in the land of sprawling marshes and orange groves (we’re talking Florida), what can we do to keep our rivers (the St. Johns especially!) clean, our air unpolluted and our minds uncluttered?  It all starts with baby steps….or baby tracks.

            It’s no new news that our great country is going through a gas crisis.  Prices at the pump soar, while our daily commute is unchanged. The easiest way to keep a little money in your pocket?  Why not jump on a bicycle for daily commuting, shopping and recreation.  San Marco is the perfect arena for such a thing!  Our friendly community has the best of both worlds, a feeling of being “away from it all”, while only being within a 5 minute ride to downtown.

            Miramar’s own Open Road Bicycles has been serving and servicing our areas’ bikes for 15 years.  Having sold 700-1,000 bikes yearly, Open Road is a leader in top quality service, developing hearty relationships in our community.  Scott Summey, the owner and a San Marco resident, says that he’s noticed an increase in old bike repairs within the last few months. 

            “You can’t drive for recreation anymore,” says Scott, “so now people are bringing in their old bikes to be serviced…ones that haven’t seen the light of day in years.”

            So, as the old bikes come out of the garage, do the gas-guzzling cars go back in?  Well, it depends.  We’re lucky to have bike lanes that lead all the way from our neighborhood to University Boulevard – so grocery shopping wouldn’t be a problem.  The square is always within a short bike ride, so good exercise can come at no cost.  There’s no need to drive to the gum; cycling is easy and free.  Some may think that riding a bike to work is impractical, but the reality is, it’s not!  It’s true, Jacksonville is a big city, so using a bike for every commuting need might seem unfeasible.  But, it’s all in a matter of mindset.  Bike lanes are becoming more prolific, and the need for alternate transportation is following that lead.

            “If every person rode a bike just once a day you could see big savings in our fuel state,” says Scott, “It’s not up to the government to change this problem; it’s up to us.  You’ve got to start somewhere.”

            Anthony Catanese is a San Marco resident, born and raised in Jacksonville.  He’s a recent graduate from UNF and finds that being green isn’t that easy.

            “It’s extremely hard at this point in my life,” he says, “Green products come with a price tag that is just unaffordable in parts of my life.”
            So, in an effort to be “green” he purchased a motorcycle, traded in his 350hp Trans-am for a smaller, more fuel efficient vehicle, and bought a new bicycle.
           
            “I bought a bike for recreation and transportation,” says Catanese, “My night job and my parent’s house are only a few miles from me.  How can I pass up an opportunity to enjoy this beautiful weather?

            At Open Road Bicycles their motto is that “cycling is a way of life.”  And “going green” is much the same.  It’s not necessarily about buying “green products”, but more about being conscious of what you’re doing.  Why drive when you can walk or bike ride somewhere?  Or carpool if you really need the car?  Along with higher gas prices come higher milk and bread prices.  Now’s as good a time as any to get yourself into a “green” mindset.

            For more information visit:  www.openroadbicycles.com

Spring 2009 – Art Shad

Wednesday, June 17th, 2009

Greetings to all! As the Councilman for District 5, which includes beautiful San Marco, I am delighted to be able to assist my neighbors in beautifying and restoring our historic area. The San Marco Town Center is complete and a new sign has been installed at the south entrance of the Square at the corner of Hendricks Ave. and San Marco Blvd. welcoming everyone to this unique neighborhood. The beauty and organization of San Marco Square, a jewel of Jacksonville, would not be possible without the tireless work of our San Marco Preservation Society and the San Marco Merchants Association. These two groups are on top of issues in the Square and surrounding San Marco neighborhoods and come to us and the City with their concerns and suggestions, from landscape maintenance to Sheriff’s Office issues. We work with them closely and listen to their needs. They are indeed the voice of this unique area and they get things done.

San Marco is a vibrant, dynamic community and there are always projects keeping everyone engaged. Several infrastructure projects have been completed recently and a few more are in the planning stages. The Children’s Way Pump Station was completed in August, 2008, and has greatly reduced flooding in the north end of San Marco, just in time for our busy hurricane season. The aging Lake Marco bulkhead on Largo Road will be replaced, and the Riverfront Park (San Marco Beach) bulkhead area is being studied for refurbishment, as well. The San Marco Boulevard Streetscape design is underway and should be starting within the next six months. This project will mirror last year’s Hendricks Ave. Streetscape Project and will combine the historic cleaned-up look of the area, with decorative light poles, pavers, landscaped medians, and round-a-bouts, easing traffic-flow into and out of the Square.                San Marco is home to over fifteen city parks, and we have a new one in the works at the end of Lasalle Street at the river. Plans and permitting are underway for Greenscape Celebration Park and shovels should hit the ground, soon, with a ribbon-cutting ceremony just in time for spring.
                Old South Jacksonville City Hall on Hendricks Ave. is open and renovations are complete. It is now home to the San Marco Preservation Society, whose board members meet there monthly. With grants from the State of Florida and funds from the City, the Preservation Society undertook the refurbishing and renovating of the 1915 building that housed the seat of government for South Jacksonville. The Hall serves as a museum, as well as a meeting space and can be rented out for functions.
                There’s always something new happening in San Marco and it’s certainly a great place to live, work and play. If you have any ideas, suggestions, comments or concerns regarding our neighborhood or the City of Jacksonville, please don’t hesitate to contact me at my Council office at 630-1382.

San Marco Preservation Society Receives Prestigious Award from the Florida Trust for Historic Preservation

Wednesday, June 17th, 2009

San Marco Preservation Society was honored with a 2009 Outstanding Achievement Award for Restoration for their renovation of South Jacksonville City Hall. This prestigious award is the highest honor awarded by the Florida Trust for Historic Preservation.

The Florida Trust for Historic Preservation has been protecting Florida’s historically significant properties since 1978. The Restoration Award acknowledges the proper restoration of a structure to an earlier original appearance. All projects honored with this award must fully demonstrate adherence to the Secretary of the Interior’s standards. Previous recipients include The Chrysler Building in Miami Beach, the Marion Theatre in Ocala, the Markland Cottage at Flagler College in St. Augustine, and the Merrill House in Jacksonville.

San Marco Preservation Society would like to extend thanks to all the neighbors involved in this amazing project. Neighbors contributed time and money and skills to this project and without your help we would not have succeeded.  We look forward to future projects with all of you.

Your Child’s Eating Habits by Patrice Roux-Neal, Director, St. Mark’s Ark Preschool

Wednesday, June 17th, 2009

Do you have a child that eats only one thing? Recently I spoke to my sister, a first grade teacher in Dade County, about this very subject. One of her students eats chips and cookies for lunch. His mother packs his lunch every day and when he forgets it, the school is reluctant to sell him a school lunch. They felt it was a waste because he would not eat it anyway. One day my sister went with him to get a lunch. Dannie (my sister) felt it would be better than nothing. He ate it. Why? Because she told him he needed to eat some of his food before eating things like cookies. His mother was floored.

This is a common problem with children. But it is one that is easily remedied. Parents control ninety percent of children’s access to food. Have your child participate in purchasing things that are nutritious. Set up healthy choices by asking questions like, “Which green vegetable will you pick for dinner this time?” or “Will you pick the yogurt?” Children love being in control.

Fill a snack bowl with fruit, nuts, carrots and other “grow food” that is wrapped individually. Again, the children are in control when they go to the refrigerator to pick a snack. Chips are fine occasionally, but they should not be a staple in the house.

Your little person will not starve if they don’t eat Mac-and-cheese for every meal. If your child does not want to eat dinner the night you have broccoli casserole. Don’t make him. It will be his choice to eat the dinner or go without.

Who do you know that would not love to eat Girl Scout cookies for dinner? It is up to us as parents to teach our children why we don’t eat cookies for dinner. With loving guidance from you, your child will learn that there are lots of wonderful, tasty, healthy foods to enjoy.

Top 5th grade students honored at UNF event.

Wednesday, June 17th, 2009

Duval county public schools honored the top 5 percent of 5th grade students Monday night at the UNF arena. Hendricks Avenue Elementary was represented by the five students pictured below. The students were evaluated by grades, standardized test scores, and academic activities.

(pictured from L to R): Jonah Crooks, Brooke Feltman, Regan Foote, Ryan McCall, and Jacob Vaughan.

(pictured from L to R): Jonah Crooks, Brooke Feltman, Regan Foote, Ryan McCall, and Jacob Vaughan.

Coming Home by Gary Weber

Wednesday, June 17th, 2009

When I was nine years old my family uprooted from a small farm community in southwestern Ohio and moved to Jacksonville, Florida. I can remember being overwhelmed by the differences and longing to return to my small town, small school and familiar surroundings. I couldn’t wait to return to Ohio to visit friends and family. After a few years a very strange thing happened – Jacksonville began to feel like home. As I entered high school and college I grew to love this city, and San Marco in particular.

I first discovered San Marco when my family was invited to attend Southside Baptist Church, located on San Marco Square. As I grew older and became more involved in the arts community, my love and appreciation for San Marco only increased. When my wife and I married there was no debate about where we would live. We found a small apartment on Flagler Avenue and spent our first year of marriage living in the community we had both come to love and call home. We didn’t get to call it home for long, as graduate school and work soon moved us out of state. We traveled back to Jacksonville as often as we could and always went out of our way to drive through San Marco. We always felt like we had arrived when we passed the fountain and could see the familiar steeple of Southside Baptist Church.

After having been gone for nearly 15 years, it has been a delight to return to San Marco and serve as the senior pastor of the church that led me to discover the community I care so much about. Someone once said, “You can never go home.” I have come to doubt the truth of that statement. I would instead join the voice of another who believed, “There’s no place like home.”

Jesus once told the story of a young man determined to make his own way in the world. He callously took what he felt he deserved from his dad and hit the road to make a name for himself. He burned all of his bridges and never looked back. Not only did he never want to come home, he made sure everyone knew it. It didn’t take this young man long to discover how hard the world can be. He ended up penniless, broken and without hope. Then he remembered home. He remembered the love and security of his father. He swallowed his pride and went home hoping his father would allow him to work as a farm hand. Before he reached the driveway, he saw his dad running toward him, arms open wide, weeping with joy at the sight of his son.

Where is the last place you felt “at home”? What made you feel that way?

Maybe your parents looked nothing like the father in Jesus’ story. Maybe you have never felt at home. Safe. Secure. Loved. While our families and communities all have their share of dysfunction and imperfections, Jesus’ story gives us hope that home is a real place, and that there is grace and mercy for every child who would return.
Take it from someone who just got back, there is no place like it!

 

Gary Lee Webber is the senior pastor of Southside Baptist Church. He is married and has four children. He is currently appearing in Theatre Jacksonville’s production of Into the Woods as
Rapunzel’s Prince.

Gathered and Scattered – by Brett Foster, D. Min.

Wednesday, June 17th, 2009

With all the comings and goings of folks at San Marco churches this summer, I am reminded once again that the Church is both a gathered and a scattered people. And that’s a good thing. Without this balance of work and rest, being on the road and being at home, and celebrating God’s presence both here and abroad, I’m afraid the Gospel would be lop-sided. It’s good to be gathered, and it’s good to be scattered.

We gather each week to remember our great God and all that Christ means to us. We gather to sing songs about our life with God. We gather to pray to God about our lives and the world. We gather to wrestle with the Holy Scripture. We gather to be present at the Lord’s table and to remember His body and blood that was shed for our transgressions. We gather to celebrate baby dedications, baptisms, weddings, and funerals. And we gather to lift each other up as well. Supporting and encouraging one another week after week is vital to our well-being.

But we are a scattered people as well…..and often we scatter for the same reasons. We scatter to remember God and encounter Christ in new ways in different cultures, whether we’re on a mission trip or a family vacation. We scatter to sings songs about our life with God around campfires, mountain ranges, or coastlines. We scatter to pray to God about our lives and the lives of others, whether that be an aging parent or grandparents, or a bellboy or waitress at a resort or restaurant. We scatter to be present at the Lord’s table in homes, greasy diners, and wooden decks. We scatter to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, reunions, and time away from the daily grind. And finally, we scatter to support and encourage one another by making new and lasting memories for the future.

So before you look around your sanctuaries this summer and become either discouraged or judgmental by all the empty pews, remember that the Church has always been a gathered and a scattered people. There is a rhythm to the Way.

Brett Foster, D. Min.
Minister of Spiritual Formation and Mission
Hendricks Avenue Baptist Church

From My Corner of the Café: It Happened One Spring – Eventually

Wednesday, June 17th, 2009

 

By G. Clarence Whippington


Sadly, I know that as I sit here at my preferred café table, the old baseball fields on Hendricks Avenue are lying brown and fallow, as “winter” in Jacksonville grinds on.  Yet we all might take comfort in knowing that soon enough, the old reliable tractor will sputter to life once again, hungry for grass seed and freshly turned dirt.  Then, Tom Morris, the perennial commissioner of the youth baseball program of the Hendricks Avenue Community Association, who has served in that role for about as long as Franco ruled Spain, will put on his walking shorts, pull his socks up to his knees, and confidently resume command of home plate, and try-outs will ensue yet again at one of the city’s oldest and most honored parks.  Let the Red Sox and Yankees make their mega-deals, leave the Roger Clemenses of the world to wrestle with their demons…THIS is what baseball in American is really about.

Once upon a time, the league was known as H.A.B. – Hendricks Avenue Baptist, after the church which owns the grounds.  When I coached there from 1993 till 2003, it was a humble venuee.  Generally, our teams were made up of wholesome kids from nice homes, with a few good ballplayers sprinkled amongst each division of six or eight teams, but our all-star teams could never really compete with those from the bigger programs around town.  The majority of our players were very pleasant boys and girls who tried very hard in just about everything they did, but there were no future pros among them.  We liked to call them “scrappy.”

My friend George and I coached together for all of those seasons, and our sons grew up together on those fields.  I was a good deal thinner then, and was a devil with a fungo bat, and George taught sportsmanship with great skill:  “No, Doug, I do not want you to throw at the heads of the other team’s hitters.  This is only little league after all.  And no, Tommy, you may not moon the opposing team’s fans from right field.  Why not?  Because no one wants to see that, that’s why not.”  In general, I think we had a positive influence.
There was this one kid, however:  Shane.  Shane took a particular approach to the craft of baseball, in that he chose the path of independence in all situations.  Signals when he came up to bat?  Pointless.  Attempting to position him when he was in the outfield?  You might as well be shouting into a gale.  Shane had his own way of playing the game.  He even eschewed our collection of high-tech aluminum bats in favor of an ancient wood fungo bat given him by his grandfather, which was as long as Shane was tall.  I felt certain that if he ever did accidentally make contact with the ball on one of his from-the-heels swings, that bat would splinter into a thousand pieces and probably maim some bystander.

George and I always liked to ensure that every kid got a game ball at some point during the season for doing something well – getting a key hit, making a good play in the field – but sometimes it was a bit of a stretch (“And today’s game ball goes to Joey, who did a great job running the bases today.”)  Still, it was worth it to see the face of some kid, who might never have received any sort of special recognition before, light up with pride.

Well, we struggled for weeks to come up with a reason to award a game ball to Shane.  One Saturday we nearly gave it to him for vaulting gazelle-like over the waist-high left field fence after a home run ball which the opponent’s clean-up hitter had just emphatically swatted for a grand slam.  The irony in this was that ordinarily we couldn’t even get him to jog out to his position.  Still, it was an extraordinary effort, if unnecessary.  But we held off, hoping we would be able to reward Shane for some feat which did not involve the other team scoring on us.

Finally, it came down to the last game of the season, and Shane had still not received a game ball.  George and I paced the dugout anxiously when our team was in the field.  Then, in the third inning, Shane was hit by a pitch in the left arm.  When the side was retired, George grinned and slapped me on the back.  “There it is, Coach!” he said gleefully.  “Seems that Shane has earned his game ball.”
“Do you really think we should give him the ball for getting hit by a pitch?”  I asked.  “I mean, he didn’t even try to get out of the way.  Frankly, I don’t think he even knew he’d been hit until the umpire told him.”

George frowned.  “Hmm.  Maybe you’re right.  But we’re down to the wire here.  We’ve got to give it to him.  Don’t we?”
I shrugged.

Fortunately, we were relieved of our terrible burden in the game’s last inning, when Shane came to bat again.  In fact, it was the very last at-bat of the entire season, and he was the very last batter.  The contest was tied, 4-4, and Shane coolly tapped the clay from his shoes with his antique thunder-stick.  He stepped into the box, apparently undaunted by having been plugged his last time up, or else simply lacking any recollection of it.  Then, on the first pitch, a fastball right down the middle, he reared back and swung as if the fate of the free world depended on it.  Miraculously, wood met horsehide with a solid smack, and the ball rose, sailing up, up, over the center field fence and far beyond it, landing in the sparse grass and trickling toward the mucky woods behind the gas station which fronted Hendricks Avenue.  It was his only hit all season – a walk-off home run to win our last game.

I looked over at George.  He was gazing off into the distance where the ball gone, like a man trying to resolve one of the universe’s great riddles.  Then he looked over at me, mouth open as if to speak, but no sound emanated.
“Pretty good,” I said.
“Nice swing,” George said.

Afterward, Shane accepted his game ball humbly, wordlessly, but with an air of propriety, as if all of this had been ordained somehow, by divine intervention.  And perhaps it had.
Who were we to say?