We hear this word when someone has had an amazing experience or a breakthrough revelation. Coming down Yaqui Pass at sunset years ago, Jeanne had an epiphany about Borrego. That is why we got here and remain. There was an indescribable beauty to the sunset on the Santa Rosa mountains. Little did we know what would await us here, St. Barnabas, and so much more. The word is Greek and it means exactly what I just wrote, a seeing something you had never seen before, a revelation. On January 6, twelve days after Christmas, there is the feast of Epiphany. Scholars note it is a feast older even than Christmas, likely also tied to the new year and the beginning of longer days, more light. At first it was a celebration of the coming of God into the world, into space, time and humankind, what we now celebrate at Christmas. There were three important moments of revelation or showing that became linked with Epiphany. The first is the arrival of the wise men or three kings, following a star, at the place where the child Jesus, Mary and Joseph were staying. They were likely scholars from Persia, who saw in the star that they followed a sign of something wonderful happening. When they found the child Jesus, they worshipped him as God, offered gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. These were later linked to Jesus being both king and priest, the myrrh a foretelling of his death, as it was a burial spice. The wise men were not from Israel, they were outsiders, Gentiles. So, this was also a revelation of Jesus to the whole world beyond his own Jewish people. The second moment was the epiphany that occurred when Jesus was baptized by his cousin John the Baptist. There was a voice from heaven that said “You are my beloved Son,” and a dove also appeared overhead. John realized as did some of his followers that this was no ordinary teacher but the one chosen to save the world, Jesus. That’s what “Jesus” means. Usually on the Sunday after Epiphany one or another account of Jesus’ baptism is read. Lastly, the first of Jesus “signs” is part of Epiphany. This was his changing water into wine at a wedding feast in Cana in Galilee. Somehow, they’d run out of wine on the first day of the feast, a really horrendous situation. Mary, Jesus’ mother tells him of the embarrassment and pain, and Jesus tells the caterer to fill six huge stone jars with water and then take it to the head caterer. When he tastes, he exclaims this is the best wine ever. So, the revelation is that with Jesus’ arrival, we have God with us, as one of us. God’s ways or kingdom are going to be put into practice, first by Jesus, then by us all. While these are beautiful moments, there are epiphanies every day too many to number: that you made someone smile, fell cared for, forgiven. That food was shared, that you lent an ear to someone’s pain, shared someone’s worry, or their joy. What a good way to start the new year --Epiphany
Screening and Q&A for the short documentary Diminishing Returns at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church in Borrego Springs. Event Details Film: Diminishing Returns Date: February 8 Time: 1:00 PM Location: St. Barnabas Episcopal Church Program: Screening followed by a Q&A Afterward: Coffee and snacks available About the Film Diminishing Returns follows Ernesto, who collects recyclables in Los Angeles to help pay for his daughter’s chemotherapy treatment in the Philippines. The short documentary offers a direct look at caregiving, sacrifice, and resilience across borders. Open to the community. Everyone is welcome!
If yo u’ve ever stood in the Borrego desert at dawn, you know how the light arrives quietly, not demanding anything from you, simply offering itself. That is the kind of welcome we hope to offer at St. Barnabas. Here in this wide landscape, many people come to sort out their lives, to breathe again, or to listen to something deeper. If that’s where you find yourself as a new year begins, you are not alone. And you don’t need to have a map in hand to walk through our doors. You are welcome here — with your questions, your doubts, your hopes, and your story. The desert has always been a place where people wander, wonder, and discover unexpected acceptance. It’s a place where God has a way of meeting people not because they are certain, but because they are searching. We try to be a church shaped by that same way of being spacious, honest, and grounded in love. One of the gifts of the Episcopal tradition is that it doesn’t require everyone to think alike or believe alike. Like the desert, it makes room. Our common prayer holds us together even when our perspectives differ. You don’t have to fit a mold to belong. Archbishop Desmond Tutu once said, “God’s dream is that you and I and all of us will realize that we are family.” In the desert, family often looks like whoever shows up with you at an oasis, where crossroads meet. I say this as someone who has spent much of his life on the edges of religious communities — interfaith, curious, comfortable with mystery. And yet, in this church, I have found acceptance and a home. The edges, I’ve learned, can be holy ground. If you’re standing at the edge of mystery — or simply looking for a place where you don’t have to pretend, this is your invitation. Your presence matters here. So do your questions. As the new year unfolds, I hope you find renewal and belonging — and if you wander our way, a little desert church would be glad to welcome you in. Father Dave Madsen+
We hear this word when someone has had an amazing experience or a breakthrough revelation. Coming down Yaqui Pass at sunset years ago, Jeanne had an epiphany about Borrego. That is why we got here and remain. There was an indescribable beauty to the sunset on the Santa Rosa mountains. Little did we know what would await us here, St. Barnabas, and so much more. The word is Greek and it means exactly what I just wrote, a seeing something you had never seen before, a revelation. On January 6, twelve days after Christmas, there is the feast of Epiphany. Scholars note it is a feast older even than Christmas, likely also tied to the new year and the beginning of longer days, more light. At first it was a celebration of the coming of God into the world, into space, time and humankind, what we now celebrate at Christmas. There were three important moments of revelation or showing that became linked with Epiphany. The first is the arrival of the wise men or three kings, following a star, at the place where the child Jesus, Mary and Joseph were staying. They were likely scholars from Persia, who saw in the star that they followed a sign of something wonderful happening. When they found the child Jesus, they worshipped him as God, offered gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. These were later linked to Jesus being both king and priest, the myrrh a foretelling of his death, as it was a burial spice. The wise men were not from Israel, they were outsiders, Gentiles. So, this was also a revelation of Jesus to the whole world beyond his own Jewish people. The second moment was the epiphany that occurred when Jesus was baptized by his cousin John the Baptist. There was a voice from heaven that said “You are my beloved Son,” and a dove also appeared overhead. John realized as did some of his followers that this was no ordinary teacher but the one chosen to save the world, Jesus. That’s what “Jesus” means. Usually on the Sunday after Epiphany one or another account of Jesus’ baptism is read. Lastly, the first of Jesus “signs” is part of Epiphany. This was his changing water into wine at a wedding feast in Cana in Galilee. Somehow, they’d run out of wine on the first day of the feast, a really horrendous situation. Mary, Jesus’ mother tells him of the embarrassment and pain, and Jesus tells the caterer to fill six huge stone jars with water and then take it to the head caterer. When he tastes, he exclaims this is the best wine ever. So, the revelation is that with Jesus’ arrival, we have God with us, as one of us. God’s ways or kingdom are going to be put into practice, first by Jesus, then by us all. While these are beautiful moments, there are epiphanies every day too many to number: that you made someone smile, fell cared for, forgiven. That food was shared, that you lent an ear to someone’s pain, shared someone’s worry, or their joy. What a good way to start the new year --Epiphany
Screening and Q&A for the short documentary Diminishing Returns at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church in Borrego Springs. Event Details Film: Diminishing Returns Date: February 8 Time: 1:00 PM Location: St. Barnabas Episcopal Church Program: Screening followed by a Q&A Afterward: Coffee and snacks available About the Film Diminishing Returns follows Ernesto, who collects recyclables in Los Angeles to help pay for his daughter’s chemotherapy treatment in the Philippines. The short documentary offers a direct look at caregiving, sacrifice, and resilience across borders. Open to the community. Everyone is welcome!
If yo u’ve ever stood in the Borrego desert at dawn, you know how the light arrives quietly, not demanding anything from you, simply offering itself. That is the kind of welcome we hope to offer at St. Barnabas. Here in this wide landscape, many people come to sort out their lives, to breathe again, or to listen to something deeper. If that’s where you find yourself as a new year begins, you are not alone. And you don’t need to have a map in hand to walk through our doors. You are welcome here — with your questions, your doubts, your hopes, and your story. The desert has always been a place where people wander, wonder, and discover unexpected acceptance. It’s a place where God has a way of meeting people not because they are certain, but because they are searching. We try to be a church shaped by that same way of being spacious, honest, and grounded in love. One of the gifts of the Episcopal tradition is that it doesn’t require everyone to think alike or believe alike. Like the desert, it makes room. Our common prayer holds us together even when our perspectives differ. You don’t have to fit a mold to belong. Archbishop Desmond Tutu once said, “God’s dream is that you and I and all of us will realize that we are family.” In the desert, family often looks like whoever shows up with you at an oasis, where crossroads meet. I say this as someone who has spent much of his life on the edges of religious communities — interfaith, curious, comfortable with mystery. And yet, in this church, I have found acceptance and a home. The edges, I’ve learned, can be holy ground. If you’re standing at the edge of mystery — or simply looking for a place where you don’t have to pretend, this is your invitation. Your presence matters here. So do your questions. As the new year unfolds, I hope you find renewal and belonging — and if you wander our way, a little desert church would be glad to welcome you in. Father Dave Madsen+
