May 28, 2026

Ordinary Time By Fr Michael Plekon

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)



By Fr. Dave Madsen May 24, 2026
This Memorial Day meets us in a world trembling with conflict. Since February 28th, many of us have carried deep frustration and grief as the war in Iran unfolds, alongside the ongoing suffering in Ukraine, Palestine, Israel, and across the Middle East. These upheavals trouble us not only as citizens, but as people of faith who long for justice, mercy, and compassion in a world that feels unmoored. We could scatter a few Scriptures across these crises, but our identity as Christians is not measured by how many verses we quote. The Bible is not the fourth person of the Godhead. We seek wisdom in Holy Scripture, yes — but we also seek guidance from the living God who calls us to respond with courage, humility, and moral clarity. As Christians, we take our place among our fellow citizens in this nation and in the wider world. In the battle of ideas, we must ask: Where is our faith? Where do we stand? How should we then live? These questions matter deeply as we face the painful stories of a nation — and a world — in trouble. My first commitment is to meet the anger and fear around us with daily prayer. I pray for those in authority; for the men and women serving in our military; for police, firefighters, and first responders; and for leaders at every level of government. My responsibility as a pastor is shaped by how I respond — prayerfully, consistently, and with a spirit grounded in mercy and justice. I also feel the weight of my dual role — as a leader in the church and as a member of this community. I pray for you, my brothers and sisters, that we may be people of faith who seek the will of God in all things. I pray that the teachings of Jesus Christ will shape how we live, how we speak, how we serve, and how we love — with compassion at the center. On this Memorial Day, may we honor those who gave their lives by committing ourselves to the work of peace —especially within the household of faith. May we be steady in prayer, courageous in compassion, and faithful in our calling to live as followers of Christ in a world aching for hope. Peace to you all, Father Dave+
May 21, 2026
Margaret Liggett March 1939 – February 2026 Margaret Liggett died in February 2026. She was born on March 18, 1939, in Colorado and was recognized as gifted from an early age. After high school, Margaret entered the Community of St. Mary, the oldest Episcopal order of sisters. Following university, she taught at the women’s preparatory school run by the order and later served as School Head, as well as both a local and regional superior. After leaving religious life, Margaret’s administrative and technical talents led her to work at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory and later in information technology at Digital Wizards in San Diego. For many years, Margaret was a devoted member of the community at St. Barnabas. She served as senior warden and office administrator, and much of parish life passed through her hands. She edited the Carillon, managed stewardship campaigns, maintained membership and email lists, organized continuing education, and helped keep parish life running smoothly. Margaret was present at potlucks, parish meetings, celebrations, and the quiet, ongoing work that holds a church together. At her memorial, those who spoke made clear just how deeply her life was woven into St. Barnabas. It was said that she loved worship, loved Sunday services, and that it was fitting to remember her there, in the church that had become so much a part of her life. She was also honored for the many ways she served God and the church over the years. Among those present was the Reverend Canon Gwen Lynch, Canon to the Ordinary in the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego, who shared Bishop Susan’s prayers of thanksgiving for Margaret’s life and faithful service.  Clergy and parish leaders including the Rev. Dave Madsen (Rector), the Rev. Michael Plekon, Louise Jee, and Jan Naragon were part of the service, along with multiple friends and family members who joined by Zoom. Margaret lived for a number of years with her companion, Mary Pickering, in Mission Bay and was active in litigation with the City of San Diego over eminent domain actions affecting their mobile home park. Later she moved to Borrego Springs intending a quieter life of reading, contemplation, and prayer. Instead, she quickly became deeply involved in parish life and soon became closely identified with the St. Barnabas community. Those who knew Margaret remember not only her intellect and faith, but also her wit and humor. At her service, one speaker described her as “a giant figure in a frail body,” while another recalled her as a person with “an incredible sense of lightness about everything, including God.” She was remembered as stoic on the outside, but with a deeply humorous heart. Others shared memories that widened the picture of her life. One recalled Margaret’s childhood on a farm outside Rifle, Colorado, where she and her sister rode horses into the hills after finishing their chores. Another remembered hearing, before ever arriving in Borrego Springs, that Margaret was the finest tutor someone at St. Mark’s had ever known. Speakers also noted her scientific accomplishments, including published work and dedicated service with the Paleo Society, where she was praised for her vigor, intelligence, loyalty, and care for others. One story shared at the service captured Margaret especially well. In a local comedy performance, she made her way across the stage with perfect comic timing, declaring herself “as swift as a gazelle,” then adding, “an old one,” “with arthritis,” and “run over by a Land Rover/” "A week ago" It was a moment people still remembered, and it reflected the good sport and sharp humor that stayed with her through difficult years. In the last couple of years, her health declined, and she moved to a care facility in San Marcos. Even as her body grew weaker, those around her continued to speak of her strength, loyalty, intelligence, and faithful presence. Margaret’s life was marked by faithful service, friendship, intelligence, and humor. She was a true servant of Jesus and a steadfast friend to many. She is survived by many family members, friends, and parishioners whose lives she touched.
By Fr David Madsen May 18, 2026
Honoring Our Legacy, Embracing Our Future Dear friends of St. Barnabas, These past few months have been a tender and difficult season for our parish family. We have said goodbye to five beloved members—people whose leadership, kindness, and steady presence helped shape the very soul of this congregation. Their absence is felt deeply. Their legacy is woven into everything we are. And yet, even in the midst of this grief, I invite you to notice what God is doing among us. While we mourn those who have gone before us, we have also welcomed many new faces this past year. Our community is growing with fresh energy, new perspectives, and a renewed hunger for faith and connection. This beautiful blend of longtime members and newcomers is exactly how a parish family heals, adapts, and moves forward. Grieving and welcoming are not opposites. They are two parts of the same holy rhythm. We honor the legacy of those we’ve lost by becoming the open-hearted, vibrant community they helped build and loved so dearly. As your rector and pastor, I encourage you to keep looking forward with hope. The saints we lost would want nothing more than to see St. Barnabas continue to thrive. Let us open our hearts to those joining our journey, and keep stepping forward together in faith, hope, and love.  Blessings, Father David Madsen St. Barnabas Episcopal Church
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By Fr. Dave Madsen May 24, 2026
This Memorial Day meets us in a world trembling with conflict. Since February 28th, many of us have carried deep frustration and grief as the war in Iran unfolds, alongside the ongoing suffering in Ukraine, Palestine, Israel, and across the Middle East. These upheavals trouble us not only as citizens, but as people of faith who long for justice, mercy, and compassion in a world that feels unmoored. We could scatter a few Scriptures across these crises, but our identity as Christians is not measured by how many verses we quote. The Bible is not the fourth person of the Godhead. We seek wisdom in Holy Scripture, yes — but we also seek guidance from the living God who calls us to respond with courage, humility, and moral clarity. As Christians, we take our place among our fellow citizens in this nation and in the wider world. In the battle of ideas, we must ask: Where is our faith? Where do we stand? How should we then live? These questions matter deeply as we face the painful stories of a nation — and a world — in trouble. My first commitment is to meet the anger and fear around us with daily prayer. I pray for those in authority; for the men and women serving in our military; for police, firefighters, and first responders; and for leaders at every level of government. My responsibility as a pastor is shaped by how I respond — prayerfully, consistently, and with a spirit grounded in mercy and justice. I also feel the weight of my dual role — as a leader in the church and as a member of this community. I pray for you, my brothers and sisters, that we may be people of faith who seek the will of God in all things. I pray that the teachings of Jesus Christ will shape how we live, how we speak, how we serve, and how we love — with compassion at the center. On this Memorial Day, may we honor those who gave their lives by committing ourselves to the work of peace —especially within the household of faith. May we be steady in prayer, courageous in compassion, and faithful in our calling to live as followers of Christ in a world aching for hope. Peace to you all, Father Dave+
May 21, 2026
Margaret Liggett March 1939 – February 2026 Margaret Liggett died in February 2026. She was born on March 18, 1939, in Colorado and was recognized as gifted from an early age. After high school, Margaret entered the Community of St. Mary, the oldest Episcopal order of sisters. Following university, she taught at the women’s preparatory school run by the order and later served as School Head, as well as both a local and regional superior. After leaving religious life, Margaret’s administrative and technical talents led her to work at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory and later in information technology at Digital Wizards in San Diego. For many years, Margaret was a devoted member of the community at St. Barnabas. She served as senior warden and office administrator, and much of parish life passed through her hands. She edited the Carillon, managed stewardship campaigns, maintained membership and email lists, organized continuing education, and helped keep parish life running smoothly. Margaret was present at potlucks, parish meetings, celebrations, and the quiet, ongoing work that holds a church together. At her memorial, those who spoke made clear just how deeply her life was woven into St. Barnabas. It was said that she loved worship, loved Sunday services, and that it was fitting to remember her there, in the church that had become so much a part of her life. She was also honored for the many ways she served God and the church over the years. Among those present was the Reverend Canon Gwen Lynch, Canon to the Ordinary in the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego, who shared Bishop Susan’s prayers of thanksgiving for Margaret’s life and faithful service.  Clergy and parish leaders including the Rev. Dave Madsen (Rector), the Rev. Michael Plekon, Louise Jee, and Jan Naragon were part of the service, along with multiple friends and family members who joined by Zoom. Margaret lived for a number of years with her companion, Mary Pickering, in Mission Bay and was active in litigation with the City of San Diego over eminent domain actions affecting their mobile home park. Later she moved to Borrego Springs intending a quieter life of reading, contemplation, and prayer. Instead, she quickly became deeply involved in parish life and soon became closely identified with the St. Barnabas community. Those who knew Margaret remember not only her intellect and faith, but also her wit and humor. At her service, one speaker described her as “a giant figure in a frail body,” while another recalled her as a person with “an incredible sense of lightness about everything, including God.” She was remembered as stoic on the outside, but with a deeply humorous heart. Others shared memories that widened the picture of her life. One recalled Margaret’s childhood on a farm outside Rifle, Colorado, where she and her sister rode horses into the hills after finishing their chores. Another remembered hearing, before ever arriving in Borrego Springs, that Margaret was the finest tutor someone at St. Mark’s had ever known. Speakers also noted her scientific accomplishments, including published work and dedicated service with the Paleo Society, where she was praised for her vigor, intelligence, loyalty, and care for others. One story shared at the service captured Margaret especially well. In a local comedy performance, she made her way across the stage with perfect comic timing, declaring herself “as swift as a gazelle,” then adding, “an old one,” “with arthritis,” and “run over by a Land Rover/” "A week ago" It was a moment people still remembered, and it reflected the good sport and sharp humor that stayed with her through difficult years. In the last couple of years, her health declined, and she moved to a care facility in San Marcos. Even as her body grew weaker, those around her continued to speak of her strength, loyalty, intelligence, and faithful presence. Margaret’s life was marked by faithful service, friendship, intelligence, and humor. She was a true servant of Jesus and a steadfast friend to many. She is survived by many family members, friends, and parishioners whose lives she touched.
By Fr David Madsen May 18, 2026
Honoring Our Legacy, Embracing Our Future Dear friends of St. Barnabas, These past few months have been a tender and difficult season for our parish family. We have said goodbye to five beloved members—people whose leadership, kindness, and steady presence helped shape the very soul of this congregation. Their absence is felt deeply. Their legacy is woven into everything we are. And yet, even in the midst of this grief, I invite you to notice what God is doing among us. While we mourn those who have gone before us, we have also welcomed many new faces this past year. Our community is growing with fresh energy, new perspectives, and a renewed hunger for faith and connection. This beautiful blend of longtime members and newcomers is exactly how a parish family heals, adapts, and moves forward. Grieving and welcoming are not opposites. They are two parts of the same holy rhythm. We honor the legacy of those we’ve lost by becoming the open-hearted, vibrant community they helped build and loved so dearly. As your rector and pastor, I encourage you to keep looking forward with hope. The saints we lost would want nothing more than to see St. Barnabas continue to thrive. Let us open our hearts to those joining our journey, and keep stepping forward together in faith, hope, and love.  Blessings, Father David Madsen St. Barnabas Episcopal Church
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