March 16, 2026

Holy Week by Fr. Michael Plekon

by Fr. Michael Plekon


All Christians see the days before Jesus’ death, burial and being raised as a holy week. Much of the liturgy we have for it, especially the last Three Days, comes from observances in Jerusalem recorded by a Spanish nun, Egeria, in the 300s. Still today, the processions on Palm Sunday and later after Good Friday are carried out by Christians of diverse church backgrounds in the Holy City. For some, Palm Sunday’s cries of “Hosanna” float over to the “Hallelujahs” of Easter Sunday. So much is missed if one does not come to the services during the week. Indeed, it is a lot to go to church not once but three more times in a week, but those who do come away with a deepened sense of what we celebrate around Easter every year.


Palm Sunday


Palm Sunday recalls the joyful parade of Jesus, seated on a donkey, into Jerusalem. This was a way of celebrating great warriors, heroes, leaders and when people shouted out Hosanna or hurray to the Son of David, Jesus, they were doing just that. It was also part of the celebration to wave branches of palm trees, flowers, perhaps even throw down clothing as a sign of regard for the one being welcomed. What a contrast this scene is to the Jesus who will do a servant’s work of washing feet at table, to the battered remnant of a man pushed along the road to be crucified. For a moment it seems Jesus is welcomed and loved by the people. So today we received palm branches that are blessed and hold them up as the gospel is read. 

Maundy Thursday


The gospels record other things happening as the week wore on but the next major day is Maundy Thursday. It’s called that from the Latin word mandatum, command. At the service, after the gospel describing it is read, the clergy wash the feet of the people, imitating Jesus doing that for his friends before supper. He tells them it is a sign of his “new commandment,” that they love each other. This is the very heart of the faith we hold and try to live, not easy, but we know it’s right. The supper follows, what we do every Sunday. The bread and cup are shared and in that Jesus is present, why we say communion or the Eucharist are the body and blood of the Lord.

Good Friday


Good Friday does not appear to be good, no matter which gospel account one reads. This is the center of the services, three reading one of the Passion accounts, a reader as the narrator, another representing various characters in the text and finally a reader repeating Jesus” words. There are a couple readings in addition to the gospel passion story, and there are prayers for the world, for all people in their moments of suffering and need. Lastly, we receive communion from the leftovers of Maundy Thursday. The gospel ends with Jesus’ body being taken down from the cross. One of the drawings here shows his mother holding her dead son, this scene being call Pieta, the holy lady. In the icon/prayer corner there is a beautiful glass icon of the taking down of Jesus from the cross by the late Liesel Paris. There is also a large wooden cross that dominates the church on this Friday, with the crown of thorns dangling on it. People are welcome to come and pray, touch it.


Holy Saturday


The night before Easter there was a vigil or watch service celebrated in Jerusalem, a waiting for the Resurrection. We still keep this Easter vigil. A new fire was kindled, a special Easter candle lit from it, with the acclamation three times: “The light of Christ. Thanks be to God.” Then there is a singing of the proclamation of Easter, also called by its first word in Latin, Exsultet: Let the earth and heaven rejoice. It is a summary of how the raising of Jesus is central, a promise of life unending with God and each other. Then there are several readings. In traditional practice, these readings and psalms and prayers in between went on for hours! This was to cover the time it took for people to be baptized, for this is when you were washed and anointed, as our young people were back in December. There were dozens to be baptized in ancient times. Finally, the gospel account of the empty tomb is read and it is Easter, completed by the sharing of holy communion, giving thanks and being joined to Christ and each other.

Easter Sunday


Easter Sunday starts here in Borrego at sunrise with a BMA sponsored service that gathers the people and churches out behind the Methodist Church. There are hymns, prayers, readings including another of the gospel accounts of the Resurrection. There is Eucharist/holy communion right after the sunrise service. Later, at 9:30 there is a festive Easter Eucharist. Every Sunday is really a little Easter. The story is one of suffering, pain, death, but think that this is what God decided to come down and experience with all of us, for us. Thus, the Hallelujah on Easter Sunday is our faith that God is always with us, that death is not the end of everything, that we always will be together with God and each other. As a writer friend put it, it is always Easter everywhere. The acclamation all throughout the Easter season says it all: Christ is risen, indeed, he is risen.

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Every Sunday at 9:30 am 


St. Barnabas Episcopal

www.stbarnabasborregosprings.com
Church Country Club Dr
Borrego Springs CA 92004


By Fr. Michael Plekon August 23, 2026
by Fr. Michael Plekon Finding Faith, Belonging and Purpose Beyond Sunday Services By: Fr Michael Plekon - St. Barnabas Episcopal Church , BMA Co-Chair I am not surprised that in 2026 there are those who ask such questions. My parents were in church with me and my brothers when we were growing up in the 1950s and after. (I am in my later 70s!) I have been involved in the institutional church since I was 13 and went to church prep school, looking toward being a priest. And now I have been a priest for almost 45 years, in several church bodies. Presently I am an assistant priest at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church here in Borrego Springs. When we are back East, I help out at St. James Church, an historic stone church in the old downtown of Danbury CT, once the hat making capital of the US. Years ago when I began ordained ministry alongside being a fulltime professor at The City University of New York, there were a lot of people in church on Sundays, families with kids, as well as older people. Nowadays, it’s mostly my peers, seniors, who I see on Sundays at the service, and also engaged in the community outreach work churches do, from food banks to soup kitchens, thrift shops, and support of safe housing for mothers and children. Many I encounter tell me they grew up in the church. And then grew out of it, for all kinds of reasons. Some found what they heard in sermons repulsive, a lot of negativity and condemnation and rules. In addition, they felt churches were constantly asking for your money, when not scaring you with threats of hell. And did any good come of all those contributions? Some of the most generous and engaged neighbors of mine here have said that they found little to attract them to church. Others simply were too busy, first when they worked and later when retired they were even busier with volunteering, hobbies, golf, travel and more. What’s fascinating is that for quite a few people in Borrego, the food banks, the Community Resource Center and its programs, volunteer work like tutoring and other great things they were doing had become “church” for them. I have published about this, Community as Church, Church as Community, Ministry Matters , and soon to be published Community and Communion. Those who know me even a little know I don’t chase people to church or judge them if they’re not interested. This is the case with the other fine pastors here such as Fr. David Madsen, Pastor Mateo Mamea and Fr. Emilio Mangana, all of whom work with me at the congregations on Church Lane and in the Borrego Ministers Association (BMA). Once, after listening to someone’s honest complaints about religious narrow mindedness and almost hateful intolerance, I replied that he would not find any of that on Church Lane. Rather, anyone will find welcome and acceptance and friendship there. Which brings me back to the question that’s the title here. Those who volunteer, for example, at the monthly St. Barnabas sponsored food bank or the BMA do not all attend services with St. Barnabas, Borrego United Methodist, St. Richard’s or the Lutheran churches or other ones. However, they do identify with the love for the neighbor that all of our food banks and the BMA monthly food coupons express. I can say that we have had people come and sing with our choir at St. Barnabas without joining the church. Same is true for those who come out to the choirs assembled for the BMA Thanksgiving and Easter Sunrise services and the Christmas Cantata when it’s performed. I know that people come to all of our Church Lane congregations because they find there real community and belonging, others who have compassion and are happy to share their resources for those who are in need. This especially happens through the BMA, but as well through the Community Resource Center, the Soroptimists, BASIC, Rotary, the BAI, Valley Endowment Fund and Art Guild, among our wonderful nonprofits. It’s true that when you meet someone who gives of themselves and their resources in any of these groups and the churches, you will see them again and again across the activities of these nonprofits. I hear someone reading this saying, “Ah, but don’t you have creeds and teachings, readings from the scripture and holy communion and other specifically religious activities in church?” Well of course the churches do. These are ancient ways of expressing faith, praying for those who are ill, in need, ways of celebrating births, marriages and deaths as well.” No one is interrogated however on their belief or on anything else in our communities of faith. Rather, everyone is a sister or brother to be loved and supported. Back during lockdown, zoom classes I offered were attended by people who otherwise had little if anything to do with church. What good are they, churches, what are they for? I believe if you’ve followed what I ‘ve said here, you could say they are for building up and sustaining community, for doing good, for the good of the entire town. And God, for whom these communities exist would agree. Authorial Interview: Fr. Michael Plekon Michael Plekon / Pastors, Their Life and Work Today Saints As They Really Are
August 21, 2026
A Community Concert Marking 60 Years of a Holiday Classic
By Fr. David Madsen August 11, 2026
God’s presence has always been more than an idea on a page. Scripture keeps pointing us back to that truth. In the wilderness, Israel learned to look toward the mercy seat, that small space between the wings of the cherubim, because that was where God chose to dwell. Not in the gold, not in the symbols, but in the living presence that met them there. The psalmists return to this image again and again. They cry out to the One who is “enthroned between the cherubim,” not because they believed God was trapped in a box, but because they trusted that God was real, near, and attentive. The mercy seat became a reminder: God is not far off. God leans toward us. That same presence moves even closer. Jesus becomes the meeting place, the mercy seat in flesh and blood. And after his resurrection, the Holy Spirit takes up residence not in a tent or a temple, but in human hearts. The presence that once rested between the cherubim now rests within us. We don’t always feel it. Some days we’re distracted, tired, or simply unaware. But the presence remains, steady, patient, near. Scripture doesn’t replace that presence; it points us toward it, the way the cherubim once did. It reminds us that God is not an idea to study but a presence to encounter. And so we live our days in the desert, in the quiet, in the ordinary, the same God who met Israel in the wilderness meets us still.  I leave you with a song called Deep Peace from Libera, the boys’ choir from South London. May its blessing rest lightly on your spirit and carry you gently into whatever this day holds.
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By Fr. Michael Plekon August 23, 2026
by Fr. Michael Plekon Finding Faith, Belonging and Purpose Beyond Sunday Services By: Fr Michael Plekon - St. Barnabas Episcopal Church , BMA Co-Chair I am not surprised that in 2026 there are those who ask such questions. My parents were in church with me and my brothers when we were growing up in the 1950s and after. (I am in my later 70s!) I have been involved in the institutional church since I was 13 and went to church prep school, looking toward being a priest. And now I have been a priest for almost 45 years, in several church bodies. Presently I am an assistant priest at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church here in Borrego Springs. When we are back East, I help out at St. James Church, an historic stone church in the old downtown of Danbury CT, once the hat making capital of the US. Years ago when I began ordained ministry alongside being a fulltime professor at The City University of New York, there were a lot of people in church on Sundays, families with kids, as well as older people. Nowadays, it’s mostly my peers, seniors, who I see on Sundays at the service, and also engaged in the community outreach work churches do, from food banks to soup kitchens, thrift shops, and support of safe housing for mothers and children. Many I encounter tell me they grew up in the church. And then grew out of it, for all kinds of reasons. Some found what they heard in sermons repulsive, a lot of negativity and condemnation and rules. In addition, they felt churches were constantly asking for your money, when not scaring you with threats of hell. And did any good come of all those contributions? Some of the most generous and engaged neighbors of mine here have said that they found little to attract them to church. Others simply were too busy, first when they worked and later when retired they were even busier with volunteering, hobbies, golf, travel and more. What’s fascinating is that for quite a few people in Borrego, the food banks, the Community Resource Center and its programs, volunteer work like tutoring and other great things they were doing had become “church” for them. I have published about this, Community as Church, Church as Community, Ministry Matters , and soon to be published Community and Communion. Those who know me even a little know I don’t chase people to church or judge them if they’re not interested. This is the case with the other fine pastors here such as Fr. David Madsen, Pastor Mateo Mamea and Fr. Emilio Mangana, all of whom work with me at the congregations on Church Lane and in the Borrego Ministers Association (BMA). Once, after listening to someone’s honest complaints about religious narrow mindedness and almost hateful intolerance, I replied that he would not find any of that on Church Lane. Rather, anyone will find welcome and acceptance and friendship there. Which brings me back to the question that’s the title here. Those who volunteer, for example, at the monthly St. Barnabas sponsored food bank or the BMA do not all attend services with St. Barnabas, Borrego United Methodist, St. Richard’s or the Lutheran churches or other ones. However, they do identify with the love for the neighbor that all of our food banks and the BMA monthly food coupons express. I can say that we have had people come and sing with our choir at St. Barnabas without joining the church. Same is true for those who come out to the choirs assembled for the BMA Thanksgiving and Easter Sunrise services and the Christmas Cantata when it’s performed. I know that people come to all of our Church Lane congregations because they find there real community and belonging, others who have compassion and are happy to share their resources for those who are in need. This especially happens through the BMA, but as well through the Community Resource Center, the Soroptimists, BASIC, Rotary, the BAI, Valley Endowment Fund and Art Guild, among our wonderful nonprofits. It’s true that when you meet someone who gives of themselves and their resources in any of these groups and the churches, you will see them again and again across the activities of these nonprofits. I hear someone reading this saying, “Ah, but don’t you have creeds and teachings, readings from the scripture and holy communion and other specifically religious activities in church?” Well of course the churches do. These are ancient ways of expressing faith, praying for those who are ill, in need, ways of celebrating births, marriages and deaths as well.” No one is interrogated however on their belief or on anything else in our communities of faith. Rather, everyone is a sister or brother to be loved and supported. Back during lockdown, zoom classes I offered were attended by people who otherwise had little if anything to do with church. What good are they, churches, what are they for? I believe if you’ve followed what I ‘ve said here, you could say they are for building up and sustaining community, for doing good, for the good of the entire town. And God, for whom these communities exist would agree. Authorial Interview: Fr. Michael Plekon Michael Plekon / Pastors, Their Life and Work Today Saints As They Really Are
August 21, 2026
A Community Concert Marking 60 Years of a Holiday Classic
By Fr. David Madsen August 11, 2026
God’s presence has always been more than an idea on a page. Scripture keeps pointing us back to that truth. In the wilderness, Israel learned to look toward the mercy seat, that small space between the wings of the cherubim, because that was where God chose to dwell. Not in the gold, not in the symbols, but in the living presence that met them there. The psalmists return to this image again and again. They cry out to the One who is “enthroned between the cherubim,” not because they believed God was trapped in a box, but because they trusted that God was real, near, and attentive. The mercy seat became a reminder: God is not far off. God leans toward us. That same presence moves even closer. Jesus becomes the meeting place, the mercy seat in flesh and blood. And after his resurrection, the Holy Spirit takes up residence not in a tent or a temple, but in human hearts. The presence that once rested between the cherubim now rests within us. We don’t always feel it. Some days we’re distracted, tired, or simply unaware. But the presence remains, steady, patient, near. Scripture doesn’t replace that presence; it points us toward it, the way the cherubim once did. It reminds us that God is not an idea to study but a presence to encounter. And so we live our days in the desert, in the quiet, in the ordinary, the same God who met Israel in the wilderness meets us still.  I leave you with a song called Deep Peace from Libera, the boys’ choir from South London. May its blessing rest lightly on your spirit and carry you gently into whatever this day holds.
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