This week, Mother Liz reflects on Sarah’s laughter when promised a child past child-bearing age and God’s question “Is anything too wonderful for God?” She invites us to keep our hearts open to wonder during challenging times, sharing her delight in the Knicks’ unlikely comeback victory as an example of life’s mysterious wonders. Such experiences remind us to be surprised by the unimaginable and keep working toward justice and joy.

In this week’s newsletter, the rector responds to the detention crisis at Delaney Hall ICE facility in Newark, where detainees are on hunger and work strike protesting inhumane conditions. She shares letters from detained immigrants—our siblings and beloved children of God—and invites us to pray, witness, fast in solidarity, support families of detainees, do justice, and act with mercy.

In this week’s newsletter, Mother Liz celebrates Trinity Sunday, exploring the mystery of God three in one and the connection between Trinity theology and the wonders of creation. She invites us to consider how we think and speak of God, kindling love, adventure, and play.

In this week’s newsletter, the rector notes Pentecost’s reversal of Babel—not by restoring a single language, but by enabling understanding across difference as each speaks and hears in their own tongue. She treasures hearing parishioners read “God’s deeds of power” in many languages during worship, and invites us to consider what it means to speak of God in our own heart language—whether shaped by mother tongue, place, trust, or profound shared experience. In a time of contempt for difference, Pentecost reveals the blessing of many tongues and the Holy Spirit’s gift of mutual understanding across culture, faith, and ethnic background.

In this week’s newsletter, Mother Liz celebrates the parish’s feast day with Malcolm Guite’s sonnet on the Ascension, exploring its paradoxes: ending and beginning, absence and presence, humanity and divinity. Jesus leaves the disciples to fill all things with even more profound intimacy, and it is his broken, still-wounded body—”the heart that broke for all the broken hearted”—that ascends to God’s heart. The rector invites us to sit with these mysteries during the “dazzling darkness” between Ascension and Pentecost, pondering how we are held and hidden with Christ while called to be his presence in a world of crisis, wonder, and grief.