This week, Father Ed reflects on the surprising connection between our “peak superhero” cultural moment and the real-life heroism of Episcopalians advocating for justice. In response to recent detentions of immigrant parishioners in our diocese, he urges us not to be consumed by outrage, but to ground our actions in the love of Christ, allowing the gospel to transform our hearts. Celebrating the successful reunification of Yeonsoo Go with her mother, the Rev. Kyrie Kim, he reminds us that—together—we can act with courage, compassion, and even a bit of superhero spirit.

This week, the rector reflects on the beauty and mystery of prayer, inspired by Maren Tirabassi’s poetic reinterpretation of the Lord’s Prayer which begins: “Our Feather….” Rooted in a child’s imaginative mishearing, the poem invites us to explore new and tender ways of naming God, and to approach prayer with creativity, openness, and wonder. As Jesus reminded his disciples, sometimes the deepest truths are revealed to “the little ones.” How might you reimagine the language of prayer in your own life? Read on for inspiration, insight, and a blessing.

This week, Mother Liz invites us to reflect on prayer and courage as we prepare for Sunday’s forum discussion of Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde’s How We Learn to Be Brave. She shares a powerful excerpt from Bishop Budde’s writing on prayer — not just as a plea for help, but as a declaration of presence and purpose. In a time of challenge and uncertainty, we are reminded that we are called to show up, stay grounded in God’s love, and offer what we have for the good of others. Join us for this timely and hopeful conversation.

This week, the rector shares a deeply personal reflection inspired by the late poet Andrea Gibson, whose life and words celebrated presence, vulnerability, and love in all its fullness. In a month marked by personal loss and public tragedy, she invites us into a space of tender reflection — honoring the fragility and wonder of life, and choosing to keep loving the world even amid sorrow. In gratitude, grief, and hope, she reminds us to keep stretching our hearts.

This week, Mother Liz reflects on an evening walk in Washington Square Park, where the surprise appearance of fireflies stirred memories of childhood wonder and offered a flicker of hope amid difficult times. As she invites us to notice and cherish these fleeting gifts of the natural world, she names them as “beauty medicine” — small signs of resilience and joy that can nourish our hearts. In a world marked by sorrow and injustice, she asks: how are you finding wonder, beauty, and healing this summer?