Hello Members and Friends, We all hit potholes in life — the kind that drop us suddenly into emptiness with no clear way out. I went there, and I know many of you have too. In those moments, our plans can feel dead in the water. Rearranging the future seems as impossible as trying to tune in a television stuck on static. Everything feels suspended, uncertain, out of reach. As a leader in the church and the community, I carry a responsibility to walk beside people in those hard places. Some struggles pass quickly, but others stay. Over the years I’ve walked with folks — mostly older, but some younger — through their final months, weeks, and days. In those seasons, worldviews shift. Plans dissolve. The future they imagined simply falls away. My role is to be present: to bring the love of family and friends when they’re near, and to be the friend when no one else is left. Some want to hear about hope beyond this life; some don’t. Either way, the ministry is the same — to walk besides, offering comfort, to stay. Many of you have faced life-changing potholes that weren’t life-ending but still left you shaken. In those moments, it’s easy to feel lost. But there is a way forward, even if it takes time. And I believe it’s our shared calling — mine as a pastor, yours as neighbors and friends — to show up for one another. Presence is often the greatest gift we can offer. Sometimes the only one. This isn’t a message of gloom. It’s a message of honesty — and hope. Hope for better days when they come and hope for courage and companionship when they don’t. When life leaves us water bound — or even shipwrecked — the way ahead can vanish. Plans fall apart, and we’re left holding whatever pieces still float. I invite you to hear Waterbound as a companion for those moments when you feel cut off or overwhelmed. Listen: Waterbound” – Dirk Powell & The Transatlantic Musicians (Transatlantic Sessions) Father Dave+
Following its meeting June 14-17 in San Juan, Puerto Rico, The Episcopal Church’s Executive Council shared the following letter to the church. Read prior council letters to the church here . The Executive Council met in San Juan, Puerto Rico, June 14-17, for a retreat and a business meeting. The Episcopal Diocese of Puerto Rico and its bishop, Rafael Morales, a member of Executive Council, were gracious and generous hosts. They gifted us not only with glorious music for our worship service but also gave us a tour of their diocesan center and a detailed overview of their many creative ministries, followed by a fiesta in the courtyard of the cathedral. Puerto Rico is the perfect place to talk about the place in our church and in our nation for those deemed by too many as not worthy of full and complete participation. Europeans “discovered” the island of Puerto Rico on Nov. 19, 1493, when Christopher Columbus landed there, the result being an enslaved and exploited population. After the Spanish-American War in 1898, Puerto Rico was ceded to the United States, where it became a commonwealth in 1952, granting its residents U.S. citizenship but limiting their political representation—which may be one reason way too many U.S. citizens still do not understand that Puerto Rico is a part of the United States. This limited political representation situation has not changed in 74 years, even though both statehood and independence are possible options. The racism and the legacy of white supremacy so deeply rooted in the U.S. ensure that this situation most likely won’t change any time soon. Presiding Bishop Sean Rowe’s sermon reminded those gathered that worship is not confined to a particular place, but it is anywhere we gather with the spirit of God in our midst. This meeting was part retreat and part business session, as members learned more about the state of the church, heard about strategic planning, asked questions, and offered feedback and, yes, some pushback. The tone of the meeting was at once serious and yet cordial, with pointed and challenging questions raised. The council seems to have found its footing, with growing confidence in its role as a board of directors and a firmer grasp of what information members need and desire—and a willingness to ask for it. Monday’s focus was much about money and looking ahead 15 years. Couched in the declining numbers of Episcopalians churchwide and the concentration of most of our pledge-and-plate funding in the hands of those 60 and older, the opportunity to be addressed now by Executive Council and the church is how to plan thoughtfully for a changing financial picture. The financial realities and the plans for addressing them are folded into three overarching areas of focus: (1) Christianity Worth Proclaiming (2) A Church Built to Last (3) Capacity Where It’s Needed. After the presentation, members broke into small groups to listen to one another, pray, and discuss responses. Some of the most positive responses were related to the first area of focus—that our work is Christ-centered. There also was general enthusiasm about looking for ways in which The Episcopal Church Center can be a centralized resource for dioceses, including increased resources related to Title IV. At the end of the day there was the continued focus on mission enabled by thoughtful use of money—and a recognition that there is a role some churchwide missioners play in supporting ethnic communities. Leadership and staff clearly heard the ongoing concern among council members about the fate of ethnic ministries, fed in part by staff transitions, but also by the current political climate in our country, with ethnic populations being among those most frequently targeted by the current administration. Another vulnerable part of our population was talked about in the Pride worship service on Tuesday. In his sermon, the Rev. Cameron Partridge, chaplain, talked about the Two-Spirit, transgender, and nonbinary people whose very existence is being openly threatened. He praised a powerful retreat in March supported by the Gender Justice Office at the Church Center, particularly by Aaron Scott, who heads up that office. He said it was life-affirming, generating hope and strength for the more than 50 people attending, most of whom were young adults. The highlight of the business meeting on Wednesday was the report by Larry Hitt, chair of the Joint Standing Committee on Governance and Operations, on the status of the new location for The Archives of The Episcopal Church—ground has been broken, renovation and new construction has begun, and they are anticipating a ribbon-cutting in a few months. After years of changed plans and delays, this fulfillment of a long-deferred dream was met with enthusiastic, happy applause by council members. Underlying much of the conversation across the three days was, as always, those key baptismal covenant promises—to seek and serve Christ in all persons and to respect the dignity of every human being. Because that is what we are supposed to be as a church—life-affirming, generating hope and strength for us all, no exceptions.
With the celebration of the Trinity on the Sunday after Pentecost, the church year shifts into a long stretch until it ends and begins again on the first Sunday of Advent. This year that will not be until November 29, 2026. This longer period, all of June, July, August, September, October and most of November, more than half the year in all, plus a few weeks after the feast of Epiphany, in January and February goes by several different names. Many churches used to call it the Sundays after Trinity. Now it’s for most the Sundays after Pentecost. That’s what the lectionary or list of readings name it. But it also has the label of “Ordinary Time.” Does that seem boring and humdrum? Why “ordinary’? One explanation is that all these Sundays are numbered, remember “ordinals” from math? Another explanation is that it is the part of the year falling outside the great feasts and seasons of Christmas and Easter. (In the past these were the only days some went to church.) So the non-festal part of the church year. It’s helpful to recall than until the last century, many great feasts also were public holidays as well, with banks and businesses closed. “Ordinary” has a further meaning of the proper, correct, actual state of things. Thus the bishop of a diocese is called the “ordinary,” that is the authentic, right occupant of that position and responsibility. Likewise in the old Latin titles for university staff, a full professor was “ordinarius.” All this historical digging is fine, but is there any point for us today in the reality that MOST of the year in the church is “ordinary”? Yes, I very much think so. Consider that Sunday morning, the Eucharist/Sunday Service takes a little over an hour (depending on whether preacher makes it to the point.) And then coffee hour, called the “sacrament after the sacrament,” maybe another 30-40 minutes lingering. If I do the math, this slice of being church together takes up a little over two hours. What about the rest of the week, when we are at home, at the store, with family and friends, working, walking, doing whatever? Is this being church at all, or are we Sunday Christians? (That is if we show up on Sundays? Big if these days.) The image I have here with these words is a drawing by Benedictine monk Br. Martin Erspamer. It’s the Last Supper, or better Jesus at table with his friends. It is my best image of “ordinary time.” You do see the bread and cup, what we receive in holy communion, Jesus present in food and drink we share. But notice Jesus’ face and all the other faces gathered round the table. This is “community as church, church as community.” Yes I wrote a book by that title, nevertheless it’s what keep me going in church. That’s because every meal we have at home or Kendall’s or Carlee’s or elsewhere is an extension of Jesus’ table. Every email or text or phone exchange, or better in person conversation, continues the table talk. The “ordinary time” is, along with the festal seasons, the time we’re given, the time we have left, the precious time we can do good things, make someone else at peace and joyful. I invite you to celebrate the ordinary time, with all the usual, everyday routines, troubles, aches and pains, smiles and tears, because Jesus is always there, as is the Spirit, opening a place at the Father’s table. We want, we need communion, community. It’s always here for us. (PS, Communion and Community is my forthcoming in 2026 book)
Hello Members and Friends, We all hit potholes in life — the kind that drop us suddenly into emptiness with no clear way out. I went there, and I know many of you have too. In those moments, our plans can feel dead in the water. Rearranging the future seems as impossible as trying to tune in a television stuck on static. Everything feels suspended, uncertain, out of reach. As a leader in the church and the community, I carry a responsibility to walk beside people in those hard places. Some struggles pass quickly, but others stay. Over the years I’ve walked with folks — mostly older, but some younger — through their final months, weeks, and days. In those seasons, worldviews shift. Plans dissolve. The future they imagined simply falls away. My role is to be present: to bring the love of family and friends when they’re near, and to be the friend when no one else is left. Some want to hear about hope beyond this life; some don’t. Either way, the ministry is the same — to walk besides, offering comfort, to stay. Many of you have faced life-changing potholes that weren’t life-ending but still left you shaken. In those moments, it’s easy to feel lost. But there is a way forward, even if it takes time. And I believe it’s our shared calling — mine as a pastor, yours as neighbors and friends — to show up for one another. Presence is often the greatest gift we can offer. Sometimes the only one. This isn’t a message of gloom. It’s a message of honesty — and hope. Hope for better days when they come and hope for courage and companionship when they don’t. When life leaves us water bound — or even shipwrecked — the way ahead can vanish. Plans fall apart, and we’re left holding whatever pieces still float. I invite you to hear Waterbound as a companion for those moments when you feel cut off or overwhelmed. Listen: Waterbound” – Dirk Powell & The Transatlantic Musicians (Transatlantic Sessions) Father Dave+
Following its meeting June 14-17 in San Juan, Puerto Rico, The Episcopal Church’s Executive Council shared the following letter to the church. Read prior council letters to the church here . The Executive Council met in San Juan, Puerto Rico, June 14-17, for a retreat and a business meeting. The Episcopal Diocese of Puerto Rico and its bishop, Rafael Morales, a member of Executive Council, were gracious and generous hosts. They gifted us not only with glorious music for our worship service but also gave us a tour of their diocesan center and a detailed overview of their many creative ministries, followed by a fiesta in the courtyard of the cathedral. Puerto Rico is the perfect place to talk about the place in our church and in our nation for those deemed by too many as not worthy of full and complete participation. Europeans “discovered” the island of Puerto Rico on Nov. 19, 1493, when Christopher Columbus landed there, the result being an enslaved and exploited population. After the Spanish-American War in 1898, Puerto Rico was ceded to the United States, where it became a commonwealth in 1952, granting its residents U.S. citizenship but limiting their political representation—which may be one reason way too many U.S. citizens still do not understand that Puerto Rico is a part of the United States. This limited political representation situation has not changed in 74 years, even though both statehood and independence are possible options. The racism and the legacy of white supremacy so deeply rooted in the U.S. ensure that this situation most likely won’t change any time soon. Presiding Bishop Sean Rowe’s sermon reminded those gathered that worship is not confined to a particular place, but it is anywhere we gather with the spirit of God in our midst. This meeting was part retreat and part business session, as members learned more about the state of the church, heard about strategic planning, asked questions, and offered feedback and, yes, some pushback. The tone of the meeting was at once serious and yet cordial, with pointed and challenging questions raised. The council seems to have found its footing, with growing confidence in its role as a board of directors and a firmer grasp of what information members need and desire—and a willingness to ask for it. Monday’s focus was much about money and looking ahead 15 years. Couched in the declining numbers of Episcopalians churchwide and the concentration of most of our pledge-and-plate funding in the hands of those 60 and older, the opportunity to be addressed now by Executive Council and the church is how to plan thoughtfully for a changing financial picture. The financial realities and the plans for addressing them are folded into three overarching areas of focus: (1) Christianity Worth Proclaiming (2) A Church Built to Last (3) Capacity Where It’s Needed. After the presentation, members broke into small groups to listen to one another, pray, and discuss responses. Some of the most positive responses were related to the first area of focus—that our work is Christ-centered. There also was general enthusiasm about looking for ways in which The Episcopal Church Center can be a centralized resource for dioceses, including increased resources related to Title IV. At the end of the day there was the continued focus on mission enabled by thoughtful use of money—and a recognition that there is a role some churchwide missioners play in supporting ethnic communities. Leadership and staff clearly heard the ongoing concern among council members about the fate of ethnic ministries, fed in part by staff transitions, but also by the current political climate in our country, with ethnic populations being among those most frequently targeted by the current administration. Another vulnerable part of our population was talked about in the Pride worship service on Tuesday. In his sermon, the Rev. Cameron Partridge, chaplain, talked about the Two-Spirit, transgender, and nonbinary people whose very existence is being openly threatened. He praised a powerful retreat in March supported by the Gender Justice Office at the Church Center, particularly by Aaron Scott, who heads up that office. He said it was life-affirming, generating hope and strength for the more than 50 people attending, most of whom were young adults. The highlight of the business meeting on Wednesday was the report by Larry Hitt, chair of the Joint Standing Committee on Governance and Operations, on the status of the new location for The Archives of The Episcopal Church—ground has been broken, renovation and new construction has begun, and they are anticipating a ribbon-cutting in a few months. After years of changed plans and delays, this fulfillment of a long-deferred dream was met with enthusiastic, happy applause by council members. Underlying much of the conversation across the three days was, as always, those key baptismal covenant promises—to seek and serve Christ in all persons and to respect the dignity of every human being. Because that is what we are supposed to be as a church—life-affirming, generating hope and strength for us all, no exceptions.
With the celebration of the Trinity on the Sunday after Pentecost, the church year shifts into a long stretch until it ends and begins again on the first Sunday of Advent. This year that will not be until November 29, 2026. This longer period, all of June, July, August, September, October and most of November, more than half the year in all, plus a few weeks after the feast of Epiphany, in January and February goes by several different names. Many churches used to call it the Sundays after Trinity. Now it’s for most the Sundays after Pentecost. That’s what the lectionary or list of readings name it. But it also has the label of “Ordinary Time.” Does that seem boring and humdrum? Why “ordinary’? One explanation is that all these Sundays are numbered, remember “ordinals” from math? Another explanation is that it is the part of the year falling outside the great feasts and seasons of Christmas and Easter. (In the past these were the only days some went to church.) So the non-festal part of the church year. It’s helpful to recall than until the last century, many great feasts also were public holidays as well, with banks and businesses closed. “Ordinary” has a further meaning of the proper, correct, actual state of things. Thus the bishop of a diocese is called the “ordinary,” that is the authentic, right occupant of that position and responsibility. Likewise in the old Latin titles for university staff, a full professor was “ordinarius.” All this historical digging is fine, but is there any point for us today in the reality that MOST of the year in the church is “ordinary”? Yes, I very much think so. Consider that Sunday morning, the Eucharist/Sunday Service takes a little over an hour (depending on whether preacher makes it to the point.) And then coffee hour, called the “sacrament after the sacrament,” maybe another 30-40 minutes lingering. If I do the math, this slice of being church together takes up a little over two hours. What about the rest of the week, when we are at home, at the store, with family and friends, working, walking, doing whatever? Is this being church at all, or are we Sunday Christians? (That is if we show up on Sundays? Big if these days.) The image I have here with these words is a drawing by Benedictine monk Br. Martin Erspamer. It’s the Last Supper, or better Jesus at table with his friends. It is my best image of “ordinary time.” You do see the bread and cup, what we receive in holy communion, Jesus present in food and drink we share. But notice Jesus’ face and all the other faces gathered round the table. This is “community as church, church as community.” Yes I wrote a book by that title, nevertheless it’s what keep me going in church. That’s because every meal we have at home or Kendall’s or Carlee’s or elsewhere is an extension of Jesus’ table. Every email or text or phone exchange, or better in person conversation, continues the table talk. The “ordinary time” is, along with the festal seasons, the time we’re given, the time we have left, the precious time we can do good things, make someone else at peace and joyful. I invite you to celebrate the ordinary time, with all the usual, everyday routines, troubles, aches and pains, smiles and tears, because Jesus is always there, as is the Spirit, opening a place at the Father’s table. We want, we need communion, community. It’s always here for us. (PS, Communion and Community is my forthcoming in 2026 book)
