Remembering Bertha
From The Rev. Bill Miller
Who could ever forget Bertha Means? And who could possibly forget the way Bertha made you feel? As a young priest given the rare opportunity of quickly celebrating a monumental 50th anniversary and eventually shepherding the young St. James’ Church to parish-status, having Bertha in my corner and on my team made all the difference. She was legendary in what she had already courageously accomplished in Austin as a businesswoman, civil rights advocate, community leader, and church matriarch. By the time I arrived, she could have rested on her laurels; instead, she met every challenge head-on, willing to tackle even the most daunting task. Bertha could always be counted on to do whatever it took to accomplish the extraordinary.
Bertha made people feel important. I remember one Sunday in the mid-90s, after a particularly moving service in which one could literally feel the momentum of a church on the move, Bertha approached me with her usual grace and loveliness, beaming with a kind of knowing smile. She pointed at my girlfriend Rachel and moved her finger between us, telling us, “Y’all are our Bill and Hillary Clinton – except you’re better looking!” (This was, of course, before scandal tarnished the public image.) It took me about a year to come off of that high. Only Bertha could make a clueless, inexperienced priest feel downright presidential!
Bertha always got the job done and never hesitated to step up to volunteer, coordinate, solicit, organize and give. Whether it was a 50th anniversary Gala at the Hyatt, a final fundraiser to take us over the top for our first-ever capital campaign or herding a bunch of Cool Cats to cooperate on a new project, Bertha made it happen. And she was consistently cool, calm, and collected despite any chaos that may have been lurking beneath the surface (or should I say “service”). She had a disarming way of getting everyone involved, rallying supporters, and encouraging even the most hesitant to give generously. Her “programs” were the stuff of legends: “Father Miller, I’m putting you down for a $500 dollar ad in the program.” Who could argue with Bertha? “Make it $750,” I’m sure I said.
Bertha was not shy to offer her opinion, a woman who was tough, strong, and a force to be reckoned with. Once, in a sermon, I shared the story of some St. James’ folks who had picketed the segregated bowling alley in Austin – a courageous act of conscience, to be sure. Unfortunately, I told the story from the perspective of another long-time member, whose recollection did not align with Bertha’s. Bertha was not rude or condescending to me. She simply walked out on my sermon and called me that afternoon to apologize for her behavior. She then set the record straight about what “really happened.” The next Sunday, I was able to share her version, and all was well in the kingdom of God!
I was back in Austin for the 25th anniversary of Jazz at St. James just over a year ago. I was blessed to run into Bertha. She was still her amazing self. I heard her describe the new Rector, Eileen O’Brien, as “Miss America.” Around Bertha, people were always uplifted and made to feel special. Those of us who had the privilege of working and worshiping with her often felt worthy of the highest office, the greatest honor, and the crowning achievement, whether we deserved it or not. I am certain Bertha has already made Saint Peter feel like the Pope—heaven’s first fundraising gala can’t be far off. I’ll bet God is pleased. After all, it was God who imagined Bertha and loaned her to us to make a difference. I am deeply grateful and count it a rare blessing to have known her. Thank you, Bertha Means. You have meant the world to so many of us.
May 1 will be Mrs. Means’ first birthday away from us and at home in the Lord. She will be remembered in our worship on May 2. She will be remembered in our hearts always.
