Even as we “spring forward,” we look back on a most exceptional year in our individual lives and as a parish. The rector writes: “As we mark this solemn one year anniversary, I want to thank God, who has been with us in the wilderness and is with us still, bringing water in the desert for so much longer than any of us imagined.”
From the rector: “This year I am thinking of Lent not as spring cleaning, but as spring thaw. When I walk around the city, I see the dirty remnant of the last snow, and in the parks, the wet ground where the snow has melted. It is slushy and then muddy — a mess before the new growth of spring crocuses peak up through the earth. What, I wonder, in my life or in yours might thaw this Lent?”
Join us at 11 a.m. for Sunday’s service via Zoom and in our activities in the weeks ahead as we warm to the message that the Creator and Ruler of the Universe loves us to the point of even dying for us if we demanded it.
The rector writes: “I wonder if a holy Lent is one in which we bring ourselves to God just as we are, seeking deep rest and nourishment for our hearts and bodies. Maybe this season invites us to relax in the presence of the holy one who loves us, dream and playfully imagine the fullness of life, and move as feels good to us, following the lengthening warmth and light.”
Join us at 11 a.m. for Sunday’s service via Zoom and in our activities in the weeks ahead as, together, we discover restorative joy and rest, and the knowledge that we are loved.
Having spent a tumultuous year, this Lent we are asking ourselves how to stand for justice; how we can seek reconciliation; how to forgive and love our enemies; how to care for the vulnerable and marginalized; and how we can build Beloved Community.
From the rector: “It’s not always easy to figure out what we are called to do in situations of conflict, injustice and hurt. And yet there is no more important work for our world, our church, our personal relationships or our own souls.” Join us at 11 a.m. for Sunday’s service via Zoom and in our activities in the weeks ahead as we explore this work.
While we can’t have imposition of ashes this year, due to the pandemic, we will still gather for our annual liturgy marking the beginning of Lent and a time of self-examination and reflection. Join us at 6pm, Wednesday, February 17, via Zoom — ascensionnyc.org/ashwednesday — or via phone: 929-205-6099, using meeting ID 988 5984 7802.
The last Sunday after the Epiphany, we hear the story of Jesus’ transfiguration and God’s words: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Join us for the Sunday service at 11 a.m. via Zoom. And in the week that follows, we turn our thoughts to Lent, with many parish activities and opportunities to prepare for Jesus’ — and our own — resurrection.
This week: the rector reflects on the recent feast of Brigid of Kildare (c. 451 – 525), abbess, foundress of several monasteries (possibly even made a bishop?), and one of the patron saints of Ireland, as well as the patron of midwives, babies, holy wells, blacksmiths, chickens, milkmaids, poets and domestic animals. Join us for the Sunday service at 11am via Zoom, after which friend of the parish Dr. Clay Williams will walk us through COVID-19 vaccines: how they work, the variety that will be in use, and the ethical issues related to distribution and vaccination of the public.
It’s been…quite a year.
On Sunday, December 31, following the 11 a.m. online service (ascensionnyc.org/sunday), we’ll hold our Annual Parish Meeting, where we’ll will hear about the state of the parish, both financial and otherwise. We’ll have a chance to remember the year we’ve had, and to reflect on what we learned and what we want to take into the future. Whether or not you are a voting member of the parish, your participation and voice are both welcome and needed.
“The new dawn blooms as we free it.
For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it.
If only we’re brave enough to be it.”
— Amanda Gorman, Inaugural Poem:
The Hill We Climb
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered;
we have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
out from the gloomy past,
till now we stand at last
where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.