January 7, 2026

Sermon by The Rt. Rev. Susan Brown Snook

January 4th at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church

"I read a story about a group of atheists who put up huge billboards to celebrate Christmas. Well, maybe not celebrate, but comment on Christmas. The billboards featured a large picture of Santa Claus with the words “Keep the merry” and a picture of the crucified Jesus with the words “Dump the myth.” “Go ahead and enjoy a happy winter holiday,” these billboards seem to say, “but don’t fool yourself with any fantasies that a god might be involved in it.”


Infuriating as this may be, sometimes you can almost understand why atheists would look at some of our Gospel stories and decide that they seem fantastic, mythical, unrealistic.


Today’s beloved story of the three Wise Men, for instance, evokes outlandish, improbable pictures in our minds of men on camels wearing exotic turbans and silken robes, carrying bejeweled boxes full of inappropriate baby gifts.


And looking at this very odd story, we too might even be tempted to throw up our hands and say, “Such a strange story couldn’t possibly be true.” But before we dismiss this Wise Men story as quaint pageantry, we should maybe explore what’s here and why Matthew wanted to tell us the story.


So we have four Gospels, one of which doesn’t tell us a Christmas story at all, and three of which tell the Christmas story in very different ways. And we need to understand that while all three versions carry truth, each of these Gospel writers chose to tell us about different things to make points of their own.


On Christmas Eve, we hear Luke’s Gospel story with angels and shepherds and a manger, with all the soft edges and sweet carols that we associate with Christmas. Luke’s Gospel is Christmas for the poor and the lonely and those who are aching for love. On Christmas Day, we hear John’s version, which doesn’t mention Bethlehem or Mary or Joseph or the birth of a child at all, but rather soars off into the doctrine of creation and the divine light that existed with God before time began, the light of and for all people. This is Christmas for theologians.

Well, today, we come crashing down to Earth again with Matthew’s version of how Christ was born…


That’s why Jesus was born. That’s why the whole world brings gifts to his door. That’s why God lives among us still and empowers us to change this world. That’s why God rose from the dead and still lives in us today. And that story is true."

June 4, 2026
St. Barnabas Episcopal Church expands its ongoing collaboration with Rostros y Corazón For the first time, Fr. David Madsen and Jan Naragon of St. Barnabas (Borrego Springs) are leading a regular Eucharist service at Rostros y Corazón in Salton City. The gathering will take place the first and third Wednesday of every month, creating a new opportunity for worship, fellowship, and community connection. The service builds on an existing relationship between the two organizations and reflects the many connections already shared between Borrego Springs and Salton City. Many West Shores residents work in Borrego Springs, attend school here, shop here, receive services here, or have family and friends in the Borrego Valley. The two communities are neighbors in many ways. The new service reflects St. Barnabas's commitment to extending ministry beyond its church walls while continuing to support relationships throughout the desert region. By gathering regularly at Rostros y Corazón, organizers hope to create a welcoming space for prayer, conversation, encouragement, and connection. Rostros y Corazón , led by Graciela Mendivil Ramos, is a nonprofit community center serving Salton City and the surrounding West Shores area. The organization is known for supporting families and connecting residents with needed resources. For upcoming service dates or questions, contact Graciela Mendivil Ramos at gracielamramos@gmail.com .
By Fr. David Madsen June 2, 2026
It’s been on my mind lately to not only prepare my heart and mind for Sunday morning worship but io carry that early morning tranquility into the preservice atmosphere of St. Barnabas. Every Sunday begins the same way for me: morning prayers with Naomi, followed by one of the quiet videos that helps us get settled into the day. The one example I will share with you today is just one way of practicing this use of time and space. My problem lately is getting to church and allowing all sorts of church business and problems to destroy the atmosphere. The distracted mind affects everything, worship, liturgy, sermon, Lords Table and Coffee hour. Our morning atmosphere sets the tone for the entire day. By intentionally bringing a peaceful temperament into our early hours, we create a sanctuary of restfulness, not just for ourselves, but for everyone we encounter. Reclaiming this quiet time beautifully prepares our hearts for worship. And sometimes we need to just drop in and see what condition our condition is in. Time to tune our hearts to be in tune with the Spirit. “God is Spirit and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4:24). I will include one example of how I prepare my mind and spirit for Sunday morning worship. This is just one suggestion. You may have others to include. If so, please let me know. Try anchoring your morning with Gregorian chant. allow Illumination by Dan Gibson’s Solitudes blending historic Latin chants with calming sounds of God’s creation. While these chants carry rich scholastic history, my takeaway is pastoral, quieting my mind and turning my focus toward the divine. Here’s one option: This Sunday early morning light a candle, maybe a stick of incense, and let sacred sounds fill your home as you prepare for church. Arrive at St. Barnabas already tuned into God’s peace by opening the peaceful Gregorian Chants album on YouTube. Father Dave+
By Fr. David Madsen May 30, 2026
This collect has been one of my favorites for as long as I can remember. Cranmer’s cadence—hear, read, mark, learn, inwardly digest—has a way of settling into the bones. Every time I pray it, something in me wants to reach for a Bible and sit with the words again, not to master them but to let them work on me. “Blessed Lord, you caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ.” What I love about this collect is that it refuses to treat Scripture as an object to defend or a puzzle to solve. It points toward a way of life. The written word is a conduit, not a destination. It leads us toward the Living Word, toward Christ himself. We study the text—its languages, its history, its context—but we also read it for strength, for healing, for encouragement, for the quiet work of being changed from the inside out. Cramnerer wrote this in a moment when Scripture was being rediscovered in a fresh way during the English Reformation. You can feel that energy in the collect: Scripture not as a burden, but as a gift. Not as a rulebook, but as a companion. Not something to wield, but something to absorb.  Kierkegaard once said that the real challenge of Scripture is not understanding it but obeying it—letting it shape the liturgy of our lives. You haven’t really “grasped” Scripture, he said, until it becomes part of your patterns, your habits, your way of being in the world. That rings true. Reading is good. Absorbing is different. Absorbing takes time, silence, repetition, and a willingness to be changed. And strangely enough, this is where the Mamas and the Papas wander into the picture. Every time I think about stepping into a church for the first time—the way the air shifts, the way something in you recognizes the Presence before you can name it—I hear that line from “California Dreamin’”: “Stopped into a church I passed along the way.” There’s something about that moment in the song, that unexpected pause, that feels like the moment Scripture becomes real. You step inside, and something in you says, “Stay. This is where you belong.” I’ve seen that happen in churches I’ve served, including here in Borrego Springs. Someone walks in, sits down, and something settles in them. They know. They may not have the words for it, but they know. That’s what it feels like when Scripture moves from the page into the heart. When it becomes part of you. When you inwardly digest it. That’s why this collect matters to me. It’s not about information. It’s about formation. It’s about the slow, steady work of letting Scripture become home—like stepping into a church on a winter’s day and realizing you’re going to stay. California Dreamin’.
Show More
June 4, 2026
St. Barnabas Episcopal Church expands its ongoing collaboration with Rostros y Corazón For the first time, Fr. David Madsen and Jan Naragon of St. Barnabas (Borrego Springs) are leading a regular Eucharist service at Rostros y Corazón in Salton City. The gathering will take place the first and third Wednesday of every month, creating a new opportunity for worship, fellowship, and community connection. The service builds on an existing relationship between the two organizations and reflects the many connections already shared between Borrego Springs and Salton City. Many West Shores residents work in Borrego Springs, attend school here, shop here, receive services here, or have family and friends in the Borrego Valley. The two communities are neighbors in many ways. The new service reflects St. Barnabas's commitment to extending ministry beyond its church walls while continuing to support relationships throughout the desert region. By gathering regularly at Rostros y Corazón, organizers hope to create a welcoming space for prayer, conversation, encouragement, and connection. Rostros y Corazón , led by Graciela Mendivil Ramos, is a nonprofit community center serving Salton City and the surrounding West Shores area. The organization is known for supporting families and connecting residents with needed resources. For upcoming service dates or questions, contact Graciela Mendivil Ramos at gracielamramos@gmail.com .
By Fr. David Madsen June 2, 2026
It’s been on my mind lately to not only prepare my heart and mind for Sunday morning worship but io carry that early morning tranquility into the preservice atmosphere of St. Barnabas. Every Sunday begins the same way for me: morning prayers with Naomi, followed by one of the quiet videos that helps us get settled into the day. The one example I will share with you today is just one way of practicing this use of time and space. My problem lately is getting to church and allowing all sorts of church business and problems to destroy the atmosphere. The distracted mind affects everything, worship, liturgy, sermon, Lords Table and Coffee hour. Our morning atmosphere sets the tone for the entire day. By intentionally bringing a peaceful temperament into our early hours, we create a sanctuary of restfulness, not just for ourselves, but for everyone we encounter. Reclaiming this quiet time beautifully prepares our hearts for worship. And sometimes we need to just drop in and see what condition our condition is in. Time to tune our hearts to be in tune with the Spirit. “God is Spirit and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4:24). I will include one example of how I prepare my mind and spirit for Sunday morning worship. This is just one suggestion. You may have others to include. If so, please let me know. Try anchoring your morning with Gregorian chant. allow Illumination by Dan Gibson’s Solitudes blending historic Latin chants with calming sounds of God’s creation. While these chants carry rich scholastic history, my takeaway is pastoral, quieting my mind and turning my focus toward the divine. Here’s one option: This Sunday early morning light a candle, maybe a stick of incense, and let sacred sounds fill your home as you prepare for church. Arrive at St. Barnabas already tuned into God’s peace by opening the peaceful Gregorian Chants album on YouTube. Father Dave+
By Fr. David Madsen May 30, 2026
This collect has been one of my favorites for as long as I can remember. Cranmer’s cadence—hear, read, mark, learn, inwardly digest—has a way of settling into the bones. Every time I pray it, something in me wants to reach for a Bible and sit with the words again, not to master them but to let them work on me. “Blessed Lord, you caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ.” What I love about this collect is that it refuses to treat Scripture as an object to defend or a puzzle to solve. It points toward a way of life. The written word is a conduit, not a destination. It leads us toward the Living Word, toward Christ himself. We study the text—its languages, its history, its context—but we also read it for strength, for healing, for encouragement, for the quiet work of being changed from the inside out. Cramnerer wrote this in a moment when Scripture was being rediscovered in a fresh way during the English Reformation. You can feel that energy in the collect: Scripture not as a burden, but as a gift. Not as a rulebook, but as a companion. Not something to wield, but something to absorb.  Kierkegaard once said that the real challenge of Scripture is not understanding it but obeying it—letting it shape the liturgy of our lives. You haven’t really “grasped” Scripture, he said, until it becomes part of your patterns, your habits, your way of being in the world. That rings true. Reading is good. Absorbing is different. Absorbing takes time, silence, repetition, and a willingness to be changed. And strangely enough, this is where the Mamas and the Papas wander into the picture. Every time I think about stepping into a church for the first time—the way the air shifts, the way something in you recognizes the Presence before you can name it—I hear that line from “California Dreamin’”: “Stopped into a church I passed along the way.” There’s something about that moment in the song, that unexpected pause, that feels like the moment Scripture becomes real. You step inside, and something in you says, “Stay. This is where you belong.” I’ve seen that happen in churches I’ve served, including here in Borrego Springs. Someone walks in, sits down, and something settles in them. They know. They may not have the words for it, but they know. That’s what it feels like when Scripture moves from the page into the heart. When it becomes part of you. When you inwardly digest it. That’s why this collect matters to me. It’s not about information. It’s about formation. It’s about the slow, steady work of letting Scripture become home—like stepping into a church on a winter’s day and realizing you’re going to stay. California Dreamin’.
Show More

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