Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci
October 2, 2024
Dear FPC Family,
This may come as a surprise to some, but I have not always been a presbyterian. Before I found the light of Presbyterianism in my teenage years, I sojourned through the Baptist tradition for a time.
I remember attending a Baptist church summer camp at Baylor University when I was in middle school. Besides the cafeteria's famous chocolate milk (ice cold and sinfully delicious), the thing I remember most about that camp was the emphasis on a personal relationship with Jesus. As an 11-year-old boy, I didn't exactly know what that meant, but I was told that it involved accepting Jesus as my Lord and Savior and being baptized. On the camp's final night, the preacher initiated an "altar call," where people are invited to come forward and kneel as a symbolic expression of newfound faith. Practically everyone I knew went forward. Not wanting to be left out, I came forward as well.
The following fall, I was baptized in a jacuzzi-sized baptismal font behind the church pulpit.
There was a sense of finality to it as if there was nothing left to do or accomplish. "You're in!" declared my youth pastor, implying that my salvation was secure, and I had nothing else to worry about.
Even still, I felt like something was missing. I kept trying to have a "personal relationship" with Jesus, but it never felt like I was doing it right. How would I know if I had one? Would I feel different? Would I be different? I wasn't sure, and no one at church could give me a straight answer.
Not long after my baptism, our family drifted away from the Baptist church. We were still Christians, but we didn't know where we belonged or how we would fit in.
For the next year or so, we church shopped until we were invited by my mom's best friend to attend her small, cozy Presbyterian church in Pipe Creek, Texas.
One of the first things that struck me about this church they rarely talked about a "personal relationship" with Jesus. For them, Jesus was experienced in the community. They gathered, not as individuals seeking to draw closer to God, but as a communion of the very body of Christ, living and active in the world. They emphasized corporate worship with responsive calls to worship, prayers of the people, unison prayers of confession, and sung doxologies. At the Presbyterian church it felt like I was participating in worship and not merely spectating. Not only did they baptize infants, who were unable to speak for themselves, but they turned towards the parents and the congregation and asked them to pledge to raise and nurture the child in the faith. The entire community spoke for the child when the child was unable to speak for itself. Now that's the definition of grace!
In the years since my conversation to Presbyterianism, I would like to think I have developed a personal relationship with Jesus, but I have always felt closer to God when I am in the company of fellow believers. I experience God, most intimately and powerfully, in the embodied community of the church. I am encouraged by the fact that while each of the disciples undoubtedly enjoyed a unique relationship with Jesus, they spent practically all of their time with Jesus together, traveling together, learning together, breaking bread together, making mistakes together, and finding grace together.
I’m looking forward to finding grace in our ministry here at FPC.
Together.
In Christ,
Seth Saathoff
Dear FPC Family,
This may come as a surprise to some, but I have not always been a presbyterian. Before I found the light of Presbyterianism in my teenage years, I sojourned through the Baptist tradition for a time.
I remember attending a Baptist church summer camp at Baylor University when I was in middle school. Besides the cafeteria's famous chocolate milk (ice cold and sinfully delicious), the thing I remember most about that camp was the emphasis on a personal relationship with Jesus. As an 11-year-old boy, I didn't exactly know what that meant, but I was told that it involved accepting Jesus as my Lord and Savior and being baptized. On the camp's final night, the preacher initiated an "altar call," where people are invited to come forward and kneel as a symbolic expression of newfound faith. Practically everyone I knew went forward. Not wanting to be left out, I came forward as well.
The following fall, I was baptized in a jacuzzi-sized baptismal font behind the church pulpit.
There was a sense of finality to it as if there was nothing left to do or accomplish. "You're in!" declared my youth pastor, implying that my salvation was secure, and I had nothing else to worry about.
Even still, I felt like something was missing. I kept trying to have a "personal relationship" with Jesus, but it never felt like I was doing it right. How would I know if I had one? Would I feel different? Would I be different? I wasn't sure, and no one at church could give me a straight answer.
Not long after my baptism, our family drifted away from the Baptist church. We were still Christians, but we didn't know where we belonged or how we would fit in.
For the next year or so, we church shopped until we were invited by my mom's best friend to attend her small, cozy Presbyterian church in Pipe Creek, Texas.
One of the first things that struck me about this church they rarely talked about a "personal relationship" with Jesus. For them, Jesus was experienced in the community. They gathered, not as individuals seeking to draw closer to God, but as a communion of the very body of Christ, living and active in the world. They emphasized corporate worship with responsive calls to worship, prayers of the people, unison prayers of confession, and sung doxologies. At the Presbyterian church it felt like I was participating in worship and not merely spectating. Not only did they baptize infants, who were unable to speak for themselves, but they turned towards the parents and the congregation and asked them to pledge to raise and nurture the child in the faith. The entire community spoke for the child when the child was unable to speak for itself. Now that's the definition of grace!
In the years since my conversation to Presbyterianism, I would like to think I have developed a personal relationship with Jesus, but I have always felt closer to God when I am in the company of fellow believers. I experience God, most intimately and powerfully, in the embodied community of the church. I am encouraged by the fact that while each of the disciples undoubtedly enjoyed a unique relationship with Jesus, they spent practically all of their time with Jesus together, traveling together, learning together, breaking bread together, making mistakes together, and finding grace together.
I’m looking forward to finding grace in our ministry here at FPC.
Together.
In Christ,
Seth Saathoff
Photo: Texas Parks & Wildlife
September 25, 2024
Dear FPC Family,
The autumn equinox officially began in the western hemisphere on September 22. This means that, despite the still scorching temperatures, summer is over, and we are officially in the fall season. Very soon things will begin to look and feel a little differently. The weatherman tells me to expect a cold front this week (although “cold” is a relative term). Before too long you may want to grab a light coat on the way out the door. Growing up in the Texas Hill Country I can remember visiting Lost Maples state park during the fall to witness the once fecund bigtooth maple leaves turn from green to brilliant shades of yellow, orange, and red.
Indeed, fall is a season of change. The wisdom of Ecclesiastes speaks not only of changes in the weather, but changes in the seasons of life as well.
1 There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace. (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8).
As we enter the final few months of 2024, FPC is also entering a new season of change. In addition to welcoming me as your pastor a few weeks ago, the church is hard at work preparing for a capital campaign which will officially begin early next year. But before we get to that, we will launch our yearly stewardship campaign next month. The inspiration for the upcoming stewardship campaign is none other than Ecclesiastes 3. As there is “a season for every activity under heaven,” we will tell you why we believe this is a season of growth here at FPC and how we can all joyfully join together in this work.
While stewardship campaigns are largely considered institutional exercises born out of necessity, I see no reason why they cannot also be missional. In fact, stewardship is essential for the church to remain true to its mission. The Book of Order defines the “great ends of the church” as follows:
“the proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of humankind;
the shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God;
the maintenance of divine worship;
the preservation of the truth;
the promotion of social righteousness; and
the exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world” (F-1.0304).
The Church of Jesus Christ is and always will be judged according to its fidelity to these principles. Make no mistake; this is work. It is life giving, grace filled, and joyous work, but it is demanding work, nonetheless. The old African proverb “it takes a village to raise a child” also applies to church life; it takes a church to raise a Christian. It will take all of us—all that we are and all that we can give—to help this church fulfill its mission in 2025 and beyond.
The harvest is here; now let’s get to work.
In Christ,
Seth Saathoff
Dear FPC Family,
The autumn equinox officially began in the western hemisphere on September 22. This means that, despite the still scorching temperatures, summer is over, and we are officially in the fall season. Very soon things will begin to look and feel a little differently. The weatherman tells me to expect a cold front this week (although “cold” is a relative term). Before too long you may want to grab a light coat on the way out the door. Growing up in the Texas Hill Country I can remember visiting Lost Maples state park during the fall to witness the once fecund bigtooth maple leaves turn from green to brilliant shades of yellow, orange, and red.
Indeed, fall is a season of change. The wisdom of Ecclesiastes speaks not only of changes in the weather, but changes in the seasons of life as well.
1 There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
2 a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3 a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4 a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6 a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7 a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8 a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace. (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8).
As we enter the final few months of 2024, FPC is also entering a new season of change. In addition to welcoming me as your pastor a few weeks ago, the church is hard at work preparing for a capital campaign which will officially begin early next year. But before we get to that, we will launch our yearly stewardship campaign next month. The inspiration for the upcoming stewardship campaign is none other than Ecclesiastes 3. As there is “a season for every activity under heaven,” we will tell you why we believe this is a season of growth here at FPC and how we can all joyfully join together in this work.
While stewardship campaigns are largely considered institutional exercises born out of necessity, I see no reason why they cannot also be missional. In fact, stewardship is essential for the church to remain true to its mission. The Book of Order defines the “great ends of the church” as follows:
“the proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of humankind;
the shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God;
the maintenance of divine worship;
the preservation of the truth;
the promotion of social righteousness; and
the exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world” (F-1.0304).
The Church of Jesus Christ is and always will be judged according to its fidelity to these principles. Make no mistake; this is work. It is life giving, grace filled, and joyous work, but it is demanding work, nonetheless. The old African proverb “it takes a village to raise a child” also applies to church life; it takes a church to raise a Christian. It will take all of us—all that we are and all that we can give—to help this church fulfill its mission in 2025 and beyond.
The harvest is here; now let’s get to work.
In Christ,
Seth Saathoff