The Pathfinder: December 21, 2023
Love for Plea and Gift and Sign
There is something profound that happens when a poem meets a piece of music. In fact, it’s why Dent and I will be leading a series of classes in January, because when words meet notes, as has been said many times before, we pray twice.
With all due respect to Philipps Brooks, Richard Wilbur, and Jean Mauburn, my favorite Christmas poet is Christina Rossetti. She is the author of the texts of the hymns, “Love Came Down at Christmas”, and “In the Bleak Midwinter.”
Undoubtedly you have your own favorite poet whose words have taken flight. These hymns and carols find a place deep in our heart. It’s part of why the season that we are about to enter, the twelve days of Christmas, is one that is practiced so far and wide––whether one places their trust in the Incarnation or not.
Centuries and centuries of hymns and carols about the event of the Christ Child being born have been handed down to us. One of our earliest Christian hymns in our hymnal comes from the fifth century, from the poet Caelius Sedulius, “From East to West, From Shore to Shore.” (I don’t often hear this one covered on Christmas albums) One of most recent Christmas hymns in our hymnal “A Stable Lamp is Lighted,” with text by Richard Wilbur, and music by David Hurd, is beautiful and haunting. (this is a Christmas carol I’d love to hear covered more often)
At their best Christmas hymns offer us the ability to express deeply-held feelings––pain and wonder and fear and joy. They sing to the complexity of the human condition and to the clarity of divine purpose. And, at their worst they lean towards sentimentality, trading that complexity for something safer and thinner. I find that thinness whenever we sing of Mary being a mother mild or the peaceful nature of a village under the boot of an empire.
But when the words and notes tell a story of life as I can recognize it, that’s when the tears flow.
“In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made my moan,
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone,
snow had fallen,
snow on snow,
snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter long ago.
Our God, heaven cannot hold him,
nor earth sustain;
heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign;
in the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
the Lord God incarnate Jesus Christ.”
When poetry and music combine to form a hymn like “In the Bleak Midwinter,” something shifts, new perceptions are made possible. And there’s something profound about sharing that experience with a room full of other people. I believe that’s why these words and tunes have endured for decades and centuries and millennia. Because we recognize something essential about ourselves and about God as we sing, softly or full-throatedly.
So, come all you faithful, come and sing. Anticipate the Mystery to come as we celebrate the fourth Sunday of Advent at 10:30am. And later that day come to wonder at the manger with the friendly beasts at the 4pm with Nativity Story on Christmas Eve. Or sing with carols and candlelight and communion at the 8pm. (this service will be live-streamed) Or join in the majesty of all the strings and trumpet and organ for the Midnight Mass at 10:30pm. Or sing as part of the Christ-mass on Christmas Day at 10am.
Wherever you find yourself this Christmas––on your own, in a faraway place, or at the corner of Cedar and Spruce, I hope you will take the opportunity to sing. For when those words and notes meet the air, one cannot help but adore.
Peace,
–Phil+
Stories From Taize: The Italians
The city of Santarém sits on top of a hill that surprises the flat, wide flood plain of the Tejo, right next to the river. The Romans founded the city in the first century BC and since then its rulers changed from Roman to Vandal to Visigoth to Moor until the year 1147, when Afonso Henriques, Portugal’s first king, conquered it with the help of men on their way to the Holy Land to fight in the Second Crusade.
Approaching this town at the end of Day One of my Camino journey, I couldn’t help but imagine the rivers of blood that surely coursed down its sloped streets during the countless battles for control of this strategic locale.
With Santarém on the horizon, I’d cycled for many miles along bumpy, nondescript farm roads, the town taunting me by refusing to draw closer as quickly as I felt it should. When I finally hit the lower slopes of the hill, the road kicked up sharply and, with sixty miles of mostly flat riding in them on the day, my legs burned. As would become a common sight in the days ahead, I began to pass other pilgrims more frequently as we straggled into our rest town for the night.
El Camino takes you where it wants, and, like our Old Testament God, can seem fickle, vindictive, and in constant need of supplication. To lull you into a false sense of comfort, it will follow a smooth asphalt road for several miles then, without warning and for no discernible reason, it will shunt you onto a farm road or forest path. Sometimes that path is smooth and wide. Sometimes it’s narrow, rutty, and rocky. It will turn suddenly up a steep slope, where no path has any business going, covered in loose dirt and rocks. Climbing these hills in the baking midday heat is hard; descending them can be downright harrowing. Ultimately, after having its way with you, El Camino will spit you back out into a sleepy little town or village, dust from the path sticking to your sweat-soaked skin and clothes. If you come upon any locals who might be in the mood to look you in the face, they will see a mixture of pain, exhaustion and a peculiar joy. You’ll exchange a perfunctory “Bom Caminho” and be on your way.
The apartment that I’d booked for the night was not in fact in the city on the hill, but in a small village in the flats immediately to its north near the train station. After showering and resting a bit, I set out for dinner at a neighborhood restaurant. It was a nice warm evening. The restaurant would not open for another fifteen minutes, so I walked down to the church square, sat on a bench and began to process the day. There was a cat sitting in a doorway nearby, family noise coming from the open windows of the floor above. Couples with kids milled about on the other end of the square, enjoying the river breeze.
Almost every restaurant or café in the smaller towns has a television mounted high on a wall that plays continuously. Depending upon the time of day, the makeup of the clientele and the whim of the owner, the program could be sports (always fútbol), novelas, news or, in the case of this restaurant on this evening, popular music videos. I’d been seated in a small table near the entrance where I could have looked at the wall or into the small dining room. It would have been strange and rude to choose the former, so as I faced the wall with the television it was hard not to stare at the fanciful, banal imagery that blared from its screen. But, duty called and I started what would become my nightly journaling ritual. Using my guidebook, I reviewed my route, trying to pair specific memories and images with places on the maps. I scribbled notes and took photos during the day. As well, I had the data from my cycling computer: mileage, saddle time, elevation gain. Compiling all of this information did have a practical purpose, I reasoned. I could pass it on to future pilgrim cyclists; even write a guidebook for the Portuguese Way, which does not, as far as I know, exist.
There was a voice in my head, though, that I tried to keep quiet. When I listened, it told me that this other stuff was a distraction, that I was avoiding answering the real questions: What was I doing there? What was I searching for, in a spiritual sense? These were the same questions that family and friends asked me when I told them about my pilgrimage. At the time, I couldn’t come up with anything more than things like, “I’ll know when it’s revealed to me” or “I like mystery. Let it remain so for now.” On the one hand, these sound fine, in a pseudo metaphysical sense. On the other hand, something of a cop out. Yes, I’m a man of faith. But, I’m also a practical being who lives in the world. Most of the time at least, I need a good, logical reason for the things that I do. Something I can articulate. Something I can hold. I awoke the next morning later than I planned. The traffic on the highway, which was right outside my door, was already in full swing. I’d have to get on El Camino right away, grab a coffee and breakfast in the first town on the way. I found the yellow-arrowed way mark near the train station parking lot and entered a dark narrow path. It was quiet, peaceful, nobody was around. Glancing at the map before setting out, I noticed that the town where I planned to stop, Vale de Figueira, was on a small rise about six or seven miles down the road. I settled into what would be a fairly short jaunt of farm road. The crops in the fields, whatever they were, let go of the moisture that collected on their branches and leaves in the warming morning air. The crows on the wires squawked and stretched their wings.
As I entered the small town, I passed an older woman with a back pack, clearly a pilgrim. I turned to her. “Bom Caminho”. She was struggling up the rise in the heat. A hundred feet ahead was a taller, much younger woman who looked back as I passed, then slowed to a stop. I reached the café a few minutes later and leaned my bike against the front. I ordered a cappuccino, a croissant and asked about fresh fruit. The woman behind the bar, probably the owner, pointed to a large orange in a bowl on the back shelf. “Perfecto”, I said, before adjourning to the rest room to shed some layers. It was going to be a hot one.
Returning to the main room of the cafe, I noticed the older and younger women sitting together at the table next to the one where I had set my helmet and pack. They spoke Italian. As my command of the language doesn’t extend beyond restaurant speak, and is rusted solid at that, I tried some Spanish with the older woman, who appeared to be the younger one’s grandmother. She may have understood a little but responded in her native tongue. So, our conversation, though well intentioned, was brief. Still, in her bright eyes I saw a deep kindness, a love for her granddaughter, and, beneath the fatigue, a hard won peace.
As the hours passed that day, and the road and the air heated up, I kept thinking of that older Italian woman, and that, no matter how much she wanted to stay on El Camino, she might not make it. As the days passed, and my Camino became more difficult, I was sure that she did not.
My destination town on Day Two, Alvaiázere, was still twelve miles and well over a thousand of feet of climbing away by mid afternoon as I pushed my loaded bike up a particularly steep, rocky path. Though I’m not proud of it, I must admit cursing El Camino at that moment. But, as is my way, I gritted my teeth and forged ahead, determined to summit any hill put in my path. After descending into the penultimate town and re-joining the main road, I felt lighter, even if I was still climbing. I turned a corner and in the shade of a grove of thick oak saw the back of a tall, dark haired man who wore a large backpack. He was speaking Italian into an unseen phone as I passed. We both turned, looked at each other and gave the traditional pilgrim salutation. He was handsome, red cheeked, with warm brown eyes. A little further on, as the town got closer, another pilgrim appeared, a dark haired woman. I glanced at her as I passed. Her sharp features softened a bit as we bom caminho’d each other.
After checking into my hotel, showering and resting, I headed down to the attached restaurant. The concierge who gruffly checked me in an hour before happened to be the host, waiter and bartender. Though this initially filled me with doubt about my dining experience to come, I was hungry, so I sat down and ordered “the fish”. For some reason, he seemed to regard me with suspicion during the check-in. He was different in the restaurant. The awkwardness of the language barrier was still there (when I asked him if he spoke English, he raised his hand and displayed a shrinking gap between his thumb and index finger), but his mood had improved. He smiled, and seemed genuinely eager to pour me a glass of the house white. As I waited for my food, the tall Italian man entered and was seated at a small table about six feet from mine. We faced each other. I said, “I passed you on my bicycle on the way into town.” “Yes, I remember,” he replied. He looked to be a little under thirty years old and was noticeably tired, but amiable and open to chatting with this lonely American. Andrea was his name and he hailed from Trentino. A few minutes later, the sharp featured woman walked in and was seated at a small table very close to Andrea and I. We all faced each other. Silvia, born and raised in Sardinia, but lived and worked in Torino. She was maybe two or three years older than Andrea.
There we were, three pilgrims dining together. And, each of us, because we were solo, wanted to talk, to share stories, to laugh. And, so we did. I talked about my daughter, may have even showed them photos. I learned that she works in a museum; he installs security systems. They both spoke English fairly fluently, with beautifully expressive Italian accents. And, of course, we used our hands, our necks and shoulders, eyebrows and exaggerated voice inflections to communicate. Silvia started this almost immediately, with Andrea jumping in soon thereafter. It took me a minute to conjure up the New York in me, but I warmed up pretty quickly. Before Silvia arrived, Andrea told me that he was sleeping in a tent on his Camino and that he needed to find a place to camp for the night. I brought this up during our conversation. Silvia said that there was plenty of room at the pilgrim hostel where she was staying. “What are you thinking, Andrea? It’s already dark out and you’re exhausted. This is crazy”, I said. “You’re staying at Silvia’s hostel tonight, and that’s it!”, my flat hand drawing a final line in the air for emphasis. We wished each other good night and Bom Caminho. I had a feeling that I would see them again.
The next morning started with much climbing. El Camino continues up and out of the valley and down into the next. Shortly after entering the first dirt path on the descent, I saw the backs of my new friends, walking together. I rang my little bell as I approached. They stepped to the side not knowing who it was. I said, “Hey, it’s me!”. They stopped, smiled and we talked for a few minutes. They looked comfortable together. There might have been something special there, something that would last.
Was this the reason for my Camino? To facilitate this meeting, to be an agent in something that has a life, a journey of its own? Like marbles spilled onto a floor, we bump into each other at random. Sometimes we collide and ricochet away, sometimes we barely touch or simply race past each other. But sometimes, if we’re really lucky, we stop moving, for a time at least, and settle, gently touching.
–Martin Ortega
12 Days of Christmas
What does the song “The 12 Days of Christmas” actually have to do with a celebration of faith?
While exploring writing this article, I haven’t been able to get the boisterous Christmas classic out of my head, especially as I’ve recently become aware that in addition to those verses that directly reference birds, other verses may as well. Since birds are often important symbols in Christian tradition, this deserves some reflection.
Having lived in California for nearly four years, most of that time desk bound, I haven’t had the same number of bird encounters as in places where I have lived rurally and worked primarily outside. The best bird encounters are shared ones either co-witnessed or at least recounted to others.
There are those times when we’ve been buzzed up close by a hummingbird, swooped by a raptor or a seagull, harassed and mocked by a crow or a cockatoo, challenged by a toughnut swan or gluttonously attacked by ducks and geese while trying to picnic. Even the times when we have been dropped upon with excrement, which I’ve heard is good luck, tend to stick with us. We may have had an already idyllic scene or view somehow made more awesome through some soaring or darting bird. Maybe we have memories of slow urban park summer afternoons infested with dusty sparrows or cooing, flapping pigeons.
I once had a colleague who told me how she always thinks of her late father when a specific type of finch appeared nearby. Her face would light up each time, and she would follow the experience with a story of her wise father or her happy childhood that the bird’s visit brought back to her and which she then shared with me. I never met or knew her father, but the bird encounters allowed me to learn from him, through his daughter.
Now, as for the 12 Days of Christmas…
A simple Google search reveals that each verse of the song, including the “five gold rings” and “pipers piping” may all be references to different kinds of birds. Therefore, this Christmas season, I have been inspired to explore ways we can celebrate the 12 days of Christmas as thanksgiving for the gifts of birds; our interactions and shared lives, but also birds as Christian symbols whose metaphors help us get closer to God and especially our understanding of the Holy Spirit!
These twelve days of Christmas keep the festival of the Incarnation of our Lord going with a creation care focus on birds. Below are some of my ideas for how to begin.
We can give money, time, and social media publicity and support to any of countless organizations and institutes working to save these miraculous flying creatures all over the world. Also, go for walks or sit outside and look and listen for birds. One of my frequent bird encounters since living on Virginia Ave in Berkeley is listening to the cry of hawks. Often while inside my home, I will hear their calls from my desk. What birds do you hear?
Beyond their value in connecting us to this beautiful world through wonder, the stories above demonstrate that birds and bird encounters help strengthen human relationships – Our own Phil Brochard once told me about a low-flying hawk zipping past him in the garden. Even two strangers who have never before spoken might connect over the shared experience of seeing a seagull steal an ice cream cone.
Tell children and anyone else the stories you have from your own memories and from the stories of our families, faith, and cultures. If you have chickens at home say a prayer of thanks for them and their eggs. Whether you eat or otherwise consume birds or not, consider the sacramentality of your relationship to them. If you have a bird in a cage, lean into your very godlike role and prioritize their mental health.
If you are a gardener or an agriculturalist, ensure your practices are bird-friendly and incorporate habitat for birds into your designs, plans, and plantings. A fun, kid-friendly activity to honor the season involves cutting an apple in half, smearing the cut side with peanut butter, and then pressing that side into birdseed, creating a sticky and protein-filled snack that birds love. These ideas are just a beginning – everyone has their own experiences and ideas to share. What are some of yours? Let’s continue the conversation.
In the end, birds have a special place in creation; throughout human history and cultures, birds in flight have often been understood as connecting us to the spiritual realm. This Christmas, I will be watching and listening more closely for what birds have to teach me.
“The birds too rise and lift themselves up to heaven: they open out their wings, instead of hands, in the form of a cross, and give voice to what seems to be a prayer.”
Tertullian (c. 160- c. 240 AD)
Image above is ‘Holy Ghost as Dove’ by David Jones
–Michael Drell
Got a Favorite Hymn?
The request line is open as we prepare to embark on a 3 week journey into what we sing and even why we sing. Join us for “When Notes Meet Words” Sundays, January 7, 14 and 21 when Phil and I will lead highly interactive forums on the song of the Church. We request your presence, participation and input. Just submit an email to dent@allsoulsparish.org with your hymn request. We will make every effort to include everyone’s favorites.
–Dent Davidson
A Report from the Camps: Sharing with our Sisters & Brothers
As we have done for four years now, All Souls has included the communities that live in two West Berkeley RV/Tent encampments in our Advent Ingatherings. On Sunday Dec 10 members of All Souls brought in items that residents had identified as being needed, and made monetary contributions for purchasing some higher priced items (fire extinguishers for example).
Tuesday 12/12
Cathy Goshorn and I met at All Souls and gathered up the stocking caps, camp stoves, propane canisters, jackets, gloves, toiletries & warm socks and headed to our first encampment.
2nd & Jones: This encampment has grown quite a bit over the last few months as the 8th and Harrison location has been getting squeezed by the City of Berkeley.
We handed out camp stoves, propane canisters, along with half of the other items. The residents were grateful to be getting things “they really need.” While we were walking and handing things out we were alerted that concurrently the City of Berkeley was clearing people out of 8th & Harrison.
8th & Harrison: What we saw was quite a change from November, when Open Door Meals had been delivered there. Most of the sidewalks now have chain link fencing that closes them off for both tent space and pedestrian use. We saw three police cars, two bulldozers, and half a dozen police and a dozen or so city workers. We parked and joined a group of residents who were observing. An older woman we spoke with at 8th & Harrison said, “Why does the City have to do this at Christmas?”
Yesica Prado (longtime encampment resident activist/journalist) began dismantling the tent and canopy that she has been manning as a neighborhood information center. Cathy and I helped with the dismantling and folding up of that center. After that was completed the City began bulldozing the trash and abandoned belongings that remained. We observed that the city officials were respectful.
Yesica let us know that many of the displaced folks have moved to the ends of Grayson Street and Dwight Way, by the railroad tracks.
Tuesday 12/19
Cathy and I once again met at All Souls and gathered together the items not previously distributed as well as some additional items that were purchased with the monetary donations received during the Ingathering. This included more men’s and women’s jackets, additional gloves and socks.
Grayson Street: Along either side of the street are 15 RVs. We were able to distribute items to about half and received effusive thanks from everyone.
Dwight Way: We see some familiar faces. Again we were able to hand out items people needed and were delighted to receive.
2nd & Jones: Noted that there were more people than previously and handed out jackets, toiletries, stocking caps, more camp stoves and propane canisters.
8th and Harrison: We wanted to see how this location was fairing. To our surprise, we discovered tents and make-shift housing along both sides of 8th, where a week previously the City had scooped up trash along with dispossessing the residents.We were able to hand out our remaining items to more very grateful people.
In our deliveries we met Stephanie, Joe, George, Marjo, Haram, Soree, Aaron, Scott, Sarah, Serenity, Nick and many others. We spoke with one gentleman who told us of his previous life as a Jehovah Witness, talked with a former Marine and met a young couple who’s truck had broken down in Berkeley and were trying to get home to Nevada.
Each of them were happy to see us, many wished us a Merry Christmas as we left.
–Pat Jones
2nd Annual Gingerbread Contest
Last Sunday at Youth Group, we had the 2nd Annual Gingerbread House Competition! In teams of three, the youth competed for awards in five different categories:
Technical Skill: Shows craftsmanship, such as smooth icing, straight walls, and neat, precise decoration.
Innovative Design: Focuses on unique architectural features, unconventional shapes, or creative use of materials.
Biblical Storytelling: Portrays a scene, story, or character from the Bible.
Sustainability: Incorporates eco-friendly or sustainable concepts in their design.
Holiday Spirit: Captures the essence of Christmas and emanates joy, coziness, and jolliness.
Below, you’ll see the three entries and the award each house received. It was a close competition, but Teams 2 and 3 tied for first place by bringing home two awards each.
The houses will be on display in the Parish Hall through Christmas Eve.
(Thanks to Lizzie Belgum for the excellent award categories; Tommy Belgum for stepping in as a teammate; and Tim Hausler, Michael Drell, and Keller Lynch for serving as our discerning, critical, and creative judges. Youth: join us next year!)
–Emily+
Announcements & Events
Happening This Week
Hospitality at All Souls Sign-up here (click here) to contribute to Sunday coffee hour food!
Worship This Week
10:30am, sung Eucharist (click here to access the live stream)
Christmas Eve: 4p, 8p, 10:30p (live stream at the 8pm only)
Christmas Day: 10a (no live stream)
Wednesday 9am Service. Join the Zoom call here, or join us in person in the Nave at 9a. Password: 520218.
Adult Formation
When Notes Meet Words Join the rector, the Rev. Phil Brochard, and the Associate for Music, Dent Davidson, as they explore the connection between theology and music in the congregational song of the church. How do the words and music come together in expressions of faith? How does changing the music for a hymn alter the experience of singing it? Bring your voice to this interactive class. (January 7, 14, 21) Join by Zoom (click here).
An Invitation to Wholeness and Holiness with Hildegard In this experiential class, taught by the Rev. Dr. Peggy Patterson, we will welcome our guide, Hildegard of Bingen - mystic, musician, healer, poet, lover of creation, wisdom friend, abbess, greening prophet of the earth – as we consider the experiences of wholeness and holiness in our own lives. We will explore Hildegard’s colorful illuminations, create our own mandalas, and consider how our lives might change if we, like Hildegard, considered ourselves “a feather on the breath of God.” (January 7, 14, 21) Small group – not on zoom
Children & Family
Nursery The downstairs nursery is open and available to you for your use whenever you’re at All Souls. This is not a staffed nursery, so an adult must be there with your child, but if you need a quiet place to take a time out, change a diaper, let your child play or take a rest, the nursery is open for you to do all of those things. If there is a service going on that’s being livestreamed, you will be able to watch the livestream on the computer in the nursery as well.
Children’s Ministry - Sunday School continues each week during the 10:30 a.m. service. Children head downstairs at the start of the service, then return after the “Peace.” See an usher if you need directions.
Children pre-K to 1st grade: Godly Play (in the Godly Play 1 classroom)
Children 2nd-5th grade: Faith Explorers (in the Fiery Furnace room)
Children’s Choir has returned! Click here to see the flyer for more information.
Youth Program - Regular Youth Group meets on Sundays from 7-8:30 pm in the Parish Hall. However, because of the many Advent and Christmas Activities, our schedule is a little different for the next month or so. Here’s a breakdown of what’s happening!
December 24th: Christmas Eve, no Youth Group
Dec 31st: New Year’s Eve, no Youth Group
Jan 7th: Regular Youth Group, 7-8:30 - Bonfire, New Year visions, Epiphany
If you are not receiving weekly Youth Program updates but would like to, please reach out to Emily B to be added to our mailing list.’
Save the Date: Godly Play training On January 6th, All Souls is hosting a training for Godly Play teachers. Godly Play is a Montessori-based program for spiritual formation, featuring play, ritual, and story. Leaders are trained in a specific style of storytelling. The training will be held in the Parish Hall from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m.
We are actively seeking teachers and/or alternates to add to our Sunday School team. If you are interested in being trained in this method, please reach out to Emily B to sign up for this event.
Even if you don’t want to teach right now, or you aren’t sure, you are still welcome to attend to learn more about the program and leave open the possibility of teaching in the future.
Please email Emily B by December 28th to sign up.
Justice & Peace
Ways to help with the Israel-Hamas War, from Episcopal Relief & Development Since the start of the current Israel-Hamas war, Episcopal Relief & Development has been supporting long-time partners in the Holy Land including Al Ahli Hospital, a ministry of the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem, to provide emergency medical support in Gaza. Despite being hit by two explosions that damaged buildings and claimed hundreds of lives, the hospital is still serving those who are in need of care. Episcopal Relief & Development stands with the brave staff of Al Ahli Hospital as they risk their lives to help others.
Please pray for peace in the Holy Land and consider making a contribution to the Episcopal Relief & Development Middle East Fund to help meet the growing needs of all people in the region.
Stay informed about the Episcopal Relief & Development response at episcopalrelief.org.
Advent Ingathering Every Sunday in Advent we collect items for some of our neighbors in need. Our Justice & Peace team has coordinated lists for each week of Advent and what is needed. Please bring these items on Sunday mornings and place them in front of the altar.
December 3: Roosevelt Middle School Newcomer Project
December 10: West Berkeley RV & Tent Encampments
December 17: YSA Tiny Home Village (please provide monetary donations with “YSA Ingathering” as the memo to your check or online donation)
December 24: Berkeley Food Bank
Everything Else
Snacks for Christmas Eve For those paying attention to these sorts of things, yes, you’re right: the fourth Sunday of Advent is also Christmas Eve this year! We’ll celebrate Advent 4 on Sunday morning just once, at 10:30a (canceling the 8am service that day), and then transform the Nave for the evening services when we’ll celebrate Christmas Eve together. If you are able to bring some cookies, snacks, or drinks to share for the receptions following the 8p and 10:30p services, that would be greatly appreciated by all. See Emily Hansen Curran for more details.
Winter & Spring Programs at the Bishop’s Ranch As you wrap up 2023 and begin to look forward into 2024, consider joining in on some of the offerings from the Bishop’s Ranch: Register Here.
Epiphany Reflection Day with Bishop Marc
Rediscovering Celtic Wisdom 2 with John Philip Newell
The Great Search 2 with John Philip Newell
Wild Contemplative and the Wilderness Within
Holy Week: The Tridium with the Holy Women
