WELCOME

UPDATE: We did it! The Solar Harvest Project is 100% by parishioner donations!

St. Matthew’s solar harvest project aims to cut the future expense for energy by about a third. For just the first 30 years, that is a saving of about $400,000. In addition to the financial benefit, the project also has environmental benefits. It eliminates emissions from electricity generation equivalent to driving a fossil fueled car over twelve times around the globe.

The project will cost about $200,000, the great majority covered by federal government and Austin Energy subsidies. Our cost is about $80,000, for which we’re asking for congregation support. With about 200 panels on the sanctuary roof, that’s $400 per panel. To donate using a credit card or bank transfer, use the link below. Alternatively, you can write a check with a memo line of “Solar Project,” and place it in the offering plate. (That approach avoids bank and credit card processing fees, as well.)

Become a sponsor here! 

Frequently asked questions may be found here.

Dear Friends in Christ, 

On Sunday, we spoke briefly about how the Cross of Christ judges the ways of the world. The ways of the world insist that we do not belong to each other, that war brings peace, and security comes only through brute strength. Walter Wink, author of The Powers that Be, calls this the "myth of the redemptive violence." According to this myth, violence is the mechanism which establishes (or restores) the right order of things. And the way to deal with threats to this order is simple, you eliminate them – just as the world did (or tried to do) to Jesus.

The ways of the world continue to have a firm footing in our consciousness. Turn on any action or superhero movie, or video game, and violence is almost always the means by which order is restored or peace maintained. Do you remember the cartoon Tom and Jerry, about the cat and the mouse who are always trying to hack away at each other? More seriously we glimpse it in state executions, acts of terror, and the wars that are waged in response to terror. We are fish, and violence is the sea. We are held in bondage to this myth.

But, as our Gospel Lesson on Sunday reminded us, the Cross of Christ has judged the ways of this world and has found them wanting. We saw this firsthand, in all of those who rushed to Fr. Jerry's aid: medical professionals in the congregation, the ones who called EMS, those who assisted in our transition to Huffman Hall, the first responders, and in all of those who supported Jerry in prayer. We came together as the community of the Cross, demonstrating the truth that we don't belong to ourselves, we belong to one another.

In the Cross, Christ has disarmed the crucifying ways of this world and freed us for another kingdom, a kingdom not of this world. We caught a glimpse of this kingdom on Sunday, a kingdom in which we each are our brother's keeper.

This is the way of the Cross. May we know it to be none other than the way of life and peace.

Faithfully,
Allen +

CLERGY REFLECTION: THE REV. DR. ANDREW BENKO

“Men of Galilee, why do you stand here staring into heaven?” – Acts 1:11

The first disciples stand, mouths agape, necks craned as they stare at the clouds in which Jesus has disappeared. In their distraction, imagine how startled they are to hear a strange voice, right among them! In the angel’s question, we see just how close “awestruck” and “dumbstruck” really are: “Why do you stand gazing at the sky,” he asks, as if further revelation were forthcoming from that direction? Instead, the angel redirects them. Yes, he acknowledges, Jesus will return the same way he left (someday); but in the meantime, they have Jesus’ last words to fulfill. Return to the city, until the Holy Spirit falls upon you—thence to all of Judea, Samaria, and eventually the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8).

Sometimes we could use some gentle refocusing, or even a less-than-gentle kick in the rear. We saw our Lord rise “Whilst we were rooted still in time and place,” as Malcolm Guite puts it—and who can blame us if we stare dumbfounded, awaiting some further sign? But Jesus yet Sings through the clouds that veil him from our sight, Whilst we our selves become his clouds of witness And sing the waning darkness into light, His light in us, and ours in him concealed, Which all creation waits to see revealed.

Guite, Anglican priest and master of the Sonnet form, reminds us that it is not only we ourselves who yearn to look on Christ—all creation longs to see his face (Acts 3:21; Rom 8:19-23). And, audaciously, he is ours to reveal: if others are to see him, to know him, to look on him as we have, it falls on us to show him forth.

Friends in Christ, it is only understandable that at times we find ourselves transfixed by the beauty, the mystery, and wonder of God’s goodness. Lest this dazzling vision blind us, may God startle us from our reverie at times. The world still asks, “Sir, we would see Jesus” (John 12:21), and begs us show him forth—today, through Pentecost, and “to the ends of the earth.”

Find the entire poem at: https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/tag/ascension-day/ 

Friends in Christ,

This Sunday, April 21st, is significant for a couple reasons. First, it is the Fourth Sunday of Easter, meaning that our Easter feast is just about halfway over. We Christians feast more than we fast, so if you were looking for an excuse to try out that new dessert recipe or leave your decorations out a little longer...this is it! And secondly, here in the middle of Easter, we observe something often called Good Shepherd Sunday because every year on this day, regardless of the year, we return to Jesus’ discourse on the good shepherd from the tenth chapter of St. John's gospel (more on that on Sunday).

Due to how often this allegory of Christ as a shepherd appears in Scripture, it became one of the first motifs of early Christian art. Before Christians used crosses to mark their churches and tombs, they used frescos and images of Christ the Good Shepherd. One of my favorite examples of Christ the Good Shepherd can be found just north of Rome, in a place called the Catacomb of Priscilla. This underground catacomb was used for Christian burials during the 2nd - 4th centuries, and is said to be named after the wife of a Roman senator who was martyred during persecutions under Emperor Domitian. The man in this fresco is shown amid the trees with birds and animals on either side of him. To the shepherd’s right there is a sheep, and to his left there is a goat -- which almost surely alludes to St. Matthew's scene of the final judgement: "All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left," (Mt. 25:32-33). The most interesting element of the Good Shepherd in Priscilla's catacomb, however, is that the animal carried over the shepherd's shoulders isn't a sheep. It's a goat! At least among some early Christians, there seems to have been a firm conviction that Christ is the shepherd of both the sheep and the goats. This Good Shepherd Sunday, I invite us to consider Christ our Shepherd who brings home his sheep, and before all is said and done (because he is good) he might well bring the goats home, too.

Faithfully,
Fr. Allen+