This week, the rector offers a Lenten prayer by Jan Richardson that embraces the spiritual wilderness as a place of self-discovery rather than escape. The poem acknowledges the inner wildness, hunger, and thirst we encounter in desert seasons, while asking not for removal from the journey but for “tough angels, sweet wine, strong bread: just enough” to sustain us through this time of transformation and unexpected grace.
In this week’s newsletter, Mother Liz reflects on the recent clergy and vestry retreat at Holy Cross Monastery, where leaders found spiritual renewal through monastic rhythms, winter walks along the frozen river, and deep conversation about the parish’s future. She invites parishioners to consider their own Lenten practices—whether through prayer, fasting, almsgiving, or acts of connection and care—as pathways to deepening awareness of God’s love and grace during the season ahead.
This week, Mother Liz reflects on Jesus’ call to be “salt” and “light,” exploring these images as both gift and vocation. Salt brings savor, preservation, and healing; light reveals truth and kindles hope—even when it feels vulnerable to shine. Jesus speaks in the present tense: this is who we already are, together, as the church. Drawing on recent courageous witness from clergy and neighbors responding to injustice, Mother Liz invites us to live our shared calling with courage, creativity, and compassion so that others may taste and see the goodness of God through our life together.
This week, Mother Liz reflects on Paul’s challenging words about the cross as “the power of God,” especially amid violence, injustice, and fear in our own time. She wrestles with what faithful discipleship looks like when state power abuses the vulnerable and speaking truth carries real risk. The message of the cross, she reminds us, calls us to costly solidarity, mercy, and nonviolent love — not comfort or safety. Yet in that “foolishness,” we discover God’s strength: life-giving grace found in community, courage, and small acts of faithful love that sustain us when we are afraid or weary.
This week, Mother Liz shares a prayer she offered at an interfaith healing service marking the first anniversary of last year’s presidential inauguration. Naming the grief, fear, and exhaustion many feel, the prayer holds before God those most harmed in these perilous times—immigrants and asylum seekers, people losing access to basic necessities, trans siblings, children and elders, and our wounded earth. With honesty and hope, Mother Liz calls us to renew our commitment to justice, to honor God’s image in every person, and to let even our flickering lights shine with courage, compassion, and love.
This week, Mother Liz shares a firsthand account from Linda Brandt, a former seminarian at Ascension now in Minnesota, describing the intense community response to ongoing ICE raids there. Her message, shared with permission, highlights widespread protest, mutual aid, and the emotional toll on neighborhoods where ICE activity has become a constant presence. Despite aggressive tactics and fear, Linda urges continued visible support, compassion, and solidarity. The rector invites the parish to keep Linda and all those affected in prayer, and to “keep showing up” in love and support for all persons.
This week, Mother Liz reflects on the Epiphany story’s blend of wonder and peril: the Magi’s awe-filled journey guided by a star, set against Herod’s fear-driven violence. She connects this ancient “realpolitik” to our own moment, naming contemporary acts of state violence and the ongoing harm to immigrant communities. Epiphany’s revealing light exposes both the world’s cruelty and God’s vulnerable, self-giving love. In that light, we are asked to choose what kind of power claims our allegiance—and to seek courage, compassion, and solidarity with our most vulnerable neighbors as we build beloved community together.
This week, Father Ed reflects on the growing influence of Christian nationalism and contrasts it with the gospel’s vision of God’s reign. Drawing on the story of the Magi and the fear their question provokes, he explores the tension between worldly power and God’s alternative politics—rooted in justice, equity, healing, and mutual service. God’s reign, he reminds us, is not about enforcing a religion, but about offering a better way of being human. As we enter this season together, Fr. Ed invites us to notice where that liberating vision is already emerging among us.
This week, the rector reflects on Advent’s invitation to hope when circumstances feel bleak or overwhelming. Drawing on Isaiah’s story of King Ahaz and Matthew’s account of Joseph, she explores the tension between realism and trust—between protecting ourselves from disappointment and daring to imagine what God might do. These texts challenge us to notice where cynicism or caution keeps us from hope, and to consider the risks of faithful dreaming. Advent asks whether we can trust that God is truly with us, even in the messiness and brokenness of our world.
This week, Mother Liz reflects on Advent hope through lucille clifton’s poem “john,” imagining John the Baptist speaking fierce solidarity from prison. As John waits in confinement and questions whether Jesus is the one to come, we are invited to consider how hope endures when circumstances narrow and enthusiasm fades. The poem and gospel call us to acts of connection and care, even with little to give, and to trust the holy mystery out of which light emerges. Advent becomes a season of waiting, watching, and faithful love — expecting “somebody bigger than me coming.”