Commentaries

Hope in the Dark

nick-fewings-ioNNsLBO8hE-unsplashFriends,

On Sunday, the Gospel text we read had Jesus predicting a coming apocalypse in the lives of his hearers, and promising to come in the midst of those catastrophes, breaking in like a thief in the night. My sermon asked this question: How do you hold on to hope in the dark? We practiced an adaptation of the ancient Jesus Prayer together as part of our response. You can listen to the sermon here.

Learn more about the Jesus Prayer using this handout from our friends at the Episcopal House of Prayer. The words I like to use are simpler than the traditional ones -- "Oh Jesus, have mercy."

One more note: If you've been exposed to Rapture theology, Sunday's Gospel text was likely very familiar to you. Below you'll find some thoughts on that.

With love,
Susan+

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Last Sunday's Gospel and the Rapture

See last Sunday's readings here.
The earliest Christians took seriously the promise that Jesus would come back, so much so that early Christian leaders had to tell people: no, please don’t quit your jobs and go live on a mountaintop watching for signs in the sky. Daily life goes on. That might be part of what Paul is doing in the text from the letter to the Romans in Sunday's assigned readings. Paul says to those people wondering what was holding up their Lord and Savior, stay awake. Don’t be lulled into sleepwalking toward all the seductions of the world. Live honorably. Practice the way of Jesus.

For two thousand years, Christians have been holding that tension. How do we live in the world as it is, this beautiful world, this world on fire, and stay watchful for God to set things right? How do we hold these things together?

Some Christians have tried to resolve this by piecing threads of Scripture together as if it were a puzzle, to try to predict what the end will look like. If you grew up hearing about the Rapture, this Gospel text might be very familiar to you. One will be taken and one will be left. In that rapture worldview, you want to be the one who gets taken up to be with God, right? Nobody wants to be left behind in the chaos.

Alas. That doesn't appear to be what Jesus is talking about at all. Read the Gospel text again, or even the whole 24th Chapter of Matthew. Jesus is talking about a flood coming along and sweeping people away, and in that context, I’m pretty sure we want to be the ones who get left behind. Not the ones who get drowned in the raging waters or swept up into slavery in the Roman Army’s campaign of exploitation.

One of the major problems with Rapture theology is the way it cherrypicks texts like this one from various places in the Gospels to support a very specific, very historically recent, very imaginative vision of the second coming.

A deeper question I'd like to ask is this: In your experience, how has Rapture theology been used as a tool of fear to control your behavior and your choices?

What if, when Jesus shows up, however that may look, it's actually good news for all God's people and for the world?

Jesus' Actions Reveal the Way of Love

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Friends,

Last Sunday, I preached about looking at Jesus' actions to see what the way of Jesus looks like. The Gospel we read was a scene from Luke's account of the crucifixion. There, as he's being publicly mocked at a lynching run by the state, Jesus shows kindness and mercy to the criminals being killed alongside him. You can listen here.

Here's some of what we see of Jesus' behavior in the Gospels: Jesus fed the hungry, healed the sick, welcomed the stranger. Jesus served, and taught others to serve. Jesus told the truth in the midst of injustice. In the midst of profound violence and scorn, Jesus stayed kind, stayed human, showed mercy.

Jesus shows us what the way of love looks like so that we can practice that way too.

This week, our liturgical calendar moves from the paradox of 'Christ the King' -- the end of the liturgical year -- to the yearning for justice and defiant hope of Advent. The origins of 'Christ the King' in anti-fascism point us back to the need for that hope. We have completed the full circle, and we begin again; if we are willing to see, the world around us cries out for God's restorative justice and defiant hope.

Many of you are taking your own actions to practice defiant hope in response to the many concerns about rising authoritarianism. I want you to know that we're exploring Grace's role as a congregation in that work as well. In a few weeks, a team of lay leaders will join Huldah and me to attend a planning session led by a local faith-based community organizing group. That organization is planning a series of national demonstrations and public actions in the spring, to gather people of faith around three key Christian practices: feeding the hungry, healing the sick, and welcoming the stranger. The team from Grace will attend the planning event and then discern whether Grace is called to participate corporately, sending participants as representatives of our faith community.

There is more than one right answer to this question. I'm already hearing from folks who are planning to attend as part of other organizations. Grace could position ourselves as a source of spiritual nourishment for the work each of our members does to practice the way of Jesus; we could also position ourselves as a vector for shared ministry in this direction. Grace members will be practicing the defiant hope of Jesus regardless. We will pray about our congregation's involvement and keep you informed. I hope you'll pray for that discernment as well.

I hope you get to eat something delicious with people you love this week, and I'll see you soon for the first Sunday of Advent.

With love,
Susan+

Finding Community

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Finding community at Grace Episcopal Church
by Clare Boerigter

I started attending Grace Episcopal Church in the spring of 2023 because I was curious about the kind of faith community that hangs prayer flags from its trees, offers food and books to its neighbors in sidewalk libraries, and honors those who have died with a garden. I was also searching. Like so many others, I was trying to understand what my life was meant to look like after the isolation of covid, the murder of George Floyd, the protests that followed, and the questions all these events provoked within me. What was this country all about? Who was I, a person benefiting from countless privileges, a U.S. citizen, a neighbor, a person of faith, a friend? Where was my life taking me?

I was looking for a place where I could ask big, hard questions alongside others who were asking their own – and I found that community at Grace. In the last 2.5 years, I’ve gotten to spend dark winter evenings singing alongside familiar and new faces at Taizé. As part of the team writing elder profiles, I’ve been generously welcomed into the homes – and life stories – of the Junnilas and Krakowskis. I’ve helped feed goats, tended apple trees, and prayed in the worship silo at Good Courage Farm with friends from Grace and other (or no) churches. I’ve been able to share meals with my Dinner of Seven group and at gatherings with the under-forties. And many Wednesday afternoons, I’ve sat in the quiet with the Centering Prayer group as the light fades in the sanctuary. I have felt incredibly lucky to belong to this community.

In January, I’m starting a new journey. After 7.5 years in Minneapolis, I’m moving to Missoula, Montana, to begin a graduate program in Forestry at the University of Montana. There, I’ll get to continue working on research projects that support the restoration of fire to public lands through prescribed burning. Fire has been an immense part of my life since 2012, the summer I drove across the country from Iowa to Utah to join a Forest Service crew of wildland firefighters.

As excited as I am for this next step, I’m going to miss the people and places that have filled this chapter of my life – and I want to take this moment to thank the Grace community for being such an important part of these last few years. I can’t claim to have found answers to any of the big, hard questions I came to Grace asking, but it has been deeply meaningful to me to have the support of this community while asking them.

In gratitude,
Clare

P.S. For those interested, I’ve written about my seasons as a firefighter in a memoir forthcoming from Beacon Press. My editor hasn’t set a publication date yet, but if you’re interested in hearing when that happens, you can sign up for updates here or look for them on my website at clareboerigter.com.

The Hope Within Us

Screenshot 2025-11-20 at 12.07.58 PMFriends,
Last Sunday, Marion Larson preached a sermon that reminded us that "It's Friday — but Sunday's coming." You can listen here!

That theme of defiant hope was strong at last week's Annual Convention of the Episcopal Church in Minnesota—a gathering of clergy and lay leaders from the 100-ish congregations of the diocese for prayer and learning and worship and governance.

[ Read reflections from Linda, Tom, and Sarah, and see photos! ]

Here's a taste of what we heard from Bishop Loya:
These days, as we are “being a diocese in an exilic, remnant key,” the congregations of the Episcopal Church in Minnesota are going to need to:
1. Be weird. "Authentic Christianity will appear strange because Jesus invites us to live inside a very different story than the zero-sum battle of winners and losers that pervades our culture."
2. Keep digging the deep, interconnected roots that build resilience: apprenticing our lives to Jesus together.
3. Embrace our limits. "We often still try to sustain the local congregation as a full service program center for all types and peoples and interests – as if we could paddle the boat at the same speed that it used to be blown by strong cultural tailwinds. We are going to have to set down things that are not part of our core work of making disciples and practicing God’s way of love, and that will always disappoint someone."
4. Live with a bold and contagious hope that Love has already won. "As followers of Jesus, we face fear and hardship and death from the place of hope that is in us. God and the world don’t need us to be large, or wealthy, or influential. What God asks, and what the world needs, is for us to look like the cross of Jesus Christ, meeting the forces that assault God’s children with God’s fierce and gentle love, joining the Spirit, gathering all of it to God’s perfect embrace.”

You might hear more about some of that at our Annual Meeting on January 25!

With love,
Susan+

Pro-Democracy

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[In a world that seems increasingly chaotic and broken, many of us feel helpless and afraid. We may question what we can do to make a difference. To build collective courage, in this space we will share examples of how individual members of GEC are practicing the way of Jesus, in private action or in the public arena. How might you find inspiration and hope in the small steps others are taking?]

"Over the last ten months I’ve worked to become more involved in actions to help promote democracy in our country. My reason for doing so is due to trying to counteract with action the anxiety I feel about our fragile democracy. This past election day, November 4, I had the opportunity to volunteer here at Grace Episcopal Church as a lobby host to help greet voters, help them find their way around the building, and help with security issues."

"During my shift I interacted with many voters including a woman and a man who walked in together. I greeted them and pointed them in the direction of the check in table. The man went in and the woman stepped aside and told me that she had already voted earlier in the day. She said she had helped her friend get registered to vote and was bringing him in to provide moral support. Judging by her expression she seemed quite happy to do so and help someone to engage with the process."

"Voting is one of the most basic ways we can put our faith into action. I found it impressive that she was putting her own values into action by encouraging someone to vote and help them get registered." -Submitted by Joe L.

Voices from Convention

Screenshot 2025-11-19 at 12.29.37 PMFrom Susan+:
A family reunion. A resource fair. Worship. A chance to fill your spiritual tank. All these things (plus some governance work) are part of the Annual Convention of the Episcopal Church in Minnesota, the 100-ish faith communities and associated organizations that Grace Episcopal Church is part of. Our delegation (myself, Tom Boe, Linda Cobb, and Sarah Sivright) attended the event in Rochester last weekend and came home full of ideas, encouragement, connections, and energy. Also attending: Chris Opsal was there repping EfM (Education for Ministry, a scripture-and-theology-and-faith-reflection program), along with many clergy who attend or are friends with our congregation!

From Linda Cobb:
It was a gift to attend the ECMN Convention for 2025. I am always amazed, and delighted how inspired and uplifted I feel during, and after the convention. There were so many moments I could share about that experience, but I will have to keep it simple-such as: Bishop Loya's address to the convention-if you have access to that, I highly recommend it. He leads us towards the focus of convention, but also looking forward to our work ahead as a Diocese. There was a speech from Cyara who leads the Food Ministries at Casa Maria, deeply moving. Her message to us is: " remember to love and support people no matter who they are" and the collaboration the Bishop shares with Bishop Betsey from Iowa who led us in group work on Saturday. And so much more....what I will leave you with are a few of the moments that really touched me. Bishop Loya reminded us that what we are experiencing in our country right now-political and religious division is not novel. We have seen this happen throughout history. What he reminded us so deeply is this: "we may feel we are in a Babylonian type exile, rather than rage against it, let's get comfortable with discomfort, settle in, plant gardens, start a family, and seek the welfare of those around you" that this is a "gift to be embraced, tend to small communities of practice, witness and resistance!" Finally, "don't you forget the outrageous promise of God that will sustain you!"

From Tom Boe:
I heard one theme over and over in different ways at our ECMN Convention 2025: Our congregations seem focused mostly on money and building questions vs. God and community questions.

The story of St. James & St. Luke's was held up at Convention as a positive example of a community giving up their treasured place of worship and joyfully joining another in one place. In our world with fewer believers, though, many of our congregations have not done as well in focusing beyond their beloved building. They struggle for years to simply survive in place. Some have broken up and have faded away.

On the day after Convention the first verses of our Sunday Gospel (11/16/2025) hit me in a new way:
Luke 21: 5-6
When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.”

God never asked for a temple anywhere. Instead, God provided detailed instructions for the portable tabernacle (tent) that was to be set up to shelter the Ark of the Covenant wherever the Hebrews happened to be. It was David who decided on a temple, embarrassed that he’d built an elaborate palace for himself when God’s place was this old tent.

With God’s assent (if not encouragement), David carefully designed an elaborate temple, which his son Solomon built. Hundreds of years later, the Babylonians destroyed that "first temple" and carried the Hebrews off to exile in Babylon. Eventually Cyrus the Great of Persia conquered Babylon, released the Hebrews, and helped them rebuild their “second temple” on the same spot as the old one. Less than 50 years after Jesus's prediction, that second temple was again destroyed by the Romans and the Hebrew people were mostly scattered elsewhere.

For hundreds of years thereafter, the People of the Book—Jews, Muslims, and Christians—have killed thousands fighting over the hill and the surrounding land where that temple once stood. They continue to do so.

Now in our time, our congregation joined together, standing for God’s mission and for faithful community over devotion to a beloved place of worship. I fervently pray that we—and our Christian brothers and sisters—don’t forget what we learned during that time of testing, faithful discernment, and holy choice.

From Sara Sivright:
This being my third convention, I saw many familiar faces--some friends, some people I admired as our leaders, convention planners, key figures in the diocese. What immediately struck me was a sense of comfort and energy—two odd things to partner. I was taken back to the consolidation process that created Grace Church and gave us our name. Along the way, we were led by several groups of thoughtful, sensitive, smart and collaborative people, who helped us experience a miracle of sorts in a time of anxiety and pain. Now I was feeling the same comfort and energy in a different context. The amazing people of ECMN are leading us in a time of global anxiety and pain with spiritual reassurance and direction. As Bishop Loya said in his opening address, “The present story is not new—not novel but true.” He reminded us of our history as children of God and urged us to plant gardens even in places of exile, grow deep roots, accept our limits, focus on what’s most important, and have hope. Sounds to me like our Grace story and the message for what lies beyond our doors.

In My End is My Beginning

vincent-guth-62V7ntlKgL8-unsplashFriends,

Last Sunday, I preached about grief, loss, and resurrection. You can listen to the sermon here.

In his poem Four Quartets, T. S. Eliot wrote, "In my end is my beginning." His poem was about the spiritual journey, but it applies too to the work of grief. In all the ways we find ourselves lost after the death of a loved one, God holds out a promise of resurrection that offers new life. I believe that new life does not erase the pain and wounds we carry, but lets us move forward, healed, forgiving and forgiven, with the hard-won wisdom of all those chapters of our lives. Whole and free, with our wounds and our scars.

Eliot's words point us, too, to the cyclical nature of the church year. In just a few weeks we'll celebrate Christ the King Sunday -- the 'end' of the liturgical calendar, when we proclaim Jesus as God's final word of restoration and hope. And then, the following Sunday, we begin again with Advent, the yearning for salvation. Our lives echo this movement, from end to beginning, in ways that are practical and mystical, too.

As we approach the end of the liturgical year, I wonder what vision keeps you going? What is the 'end' of the journey you hope to reach, with God's help?

With love,
Susan+

Liberated Life

Screenshot 2025-11-11 at 1.29.12 PM[In a world that seems increasingly chaotic and broken, many of us feel helpless and afraid. We may question what we can do to make a difference. To build collective courage, in this space we will share examples of how individual members of GEC are practicing the way of Jesus, in private action or in the public arena. How might you find inspiration and hope in the small steps others are taking?]

"Between December 2024 and November 2025, I felt called by God to write seven Bible commentaries (Genesis, Luke (x3), Acts, Romans, and Revelation) to explore what a Liberated Life looks like. This is grounded in an open and inclusive reading of God's Word. I know, from personal experience, that the Bible can be misused to judge and shame others, weaponizing texts into what are known as 'clobber passages'. I wanted to challenge people to read the Bible lovingly, counter divisive interpretations, and support those struggling with their faith."

"When people declare, 'The Bible says,' it is often not to use it with grace, but to shame people into changing their ways. My journey in writing these commentaries has shown me that Christians are called to a higher standard of grace and mercy, exemplified by loving God and loving your neighbor. I have also learned that the Bible speaks directly into the story of our lives, transforming us by connecting our experiences to those within its pages. Messages become distorted when we allow guilt, shame, and judgement to dictate our reading of God's Word, which is intended to unite us, not divide us. Its transformative power comes as we let the Holy Spirit heal our relationships and follow Jesus in discovering the way to the truth about life. This is lived unapologetically in the Unconditionally Loving presence of God."

You can find out more and buy Liberated Life Bible Commentaries here:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DWT9GLQJ?binding=paperback&ref=dbs_dp_sirpi

This is my website: www.divineinfinity.org

Submitted by Steve R

All Saints & All Souls

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Friends,
What a fabulous celebration of the feast of All Saints on Sunday! All Saints celebrates the Saints who have gone before us -- those whose lives show us what it looks like to practice the way of Jesus in their time, so that we can creative and courageous in ours. From a fabulous litany and procession representing many saints, to music by our Parish and Youth choirs, to a celebration of our Pledge Campaign for 2026, the day was full of defiant joy. If you missed it, catch the video here.

My sermon shared about the Rev. Pauli Murray, an American icon and one of the saints we look to on the Episcopal calendar of saints. The way of Jesus that we see in Pauli Murray’s life is a way of creative, resilient, nonviolent work for justice. I hope you'll take a moment to learn more about Murray's life!

As you exercise the right to vote today, I encourage you also to bring non-perishable food to Grace for us to share. You can find more information about that below.

With love,
Susan+

Food Box Update
With SNAP benefits ending in November, now is a wonderful time to keep our Food Box full! We’re inviting everyone to take part in a November Food Box Drive to help stock our outdoor pantry. Throughout the month, we’ll collect non-perishable, winter-safe food items to create a reserve for the colder months ahead.

We’re mindful and grateful that Grace is already deeply engaged in feeding ministries with the Minnehaha Food Shelf, First Nations Kitchen, and Casa Maria. Making sure our Food Box is fully stocked is another great way to show our support for the neighborhood and our ability to lead with compassion in the face of this new crisis.

Suggested items include:
Boxed meals (mac and cheese, pasta, rice packets)
Granola bars and snack packs
Peanut butter and jelly (in plastic jars)
Cereal, oatmeal, or instant soup packets
Dried fruit and nuts
**Please note that canned goods are not winter safe as they can crack when frozen.

Even a few extra items each week can make a meaningful difference for neighbors facing food insecurity this winter. Let’s come together to keep our Food Box full and our hearts open.
Donations can be dropped off in the hallway by the Commons during the month of November.

Voting for the Common Good

element5-digital-ls8Kc0P9hAA-unsplash[In a world that seems increasingly chaotic and broken, many of us feel helpless and afraid. We may question what we can do to make a difference. To build collective courage, in this space we will share examples of how individual members of GEC are practicing the way of Jesus, in private action or in the public arena. How might you find inspiration and hope in the small steps others are taking?]

"As I write this on the morning of Tuesday, November 4th, I'm looking forward to exercising my right to vote for elected officials in the city of Minneapolis. Why do I consider voting an essential way of putting my faith in action? The National Council of Churches offers an answer which resonates with me strongly. It is found on their webpage: 'As a part of our stewardship in a democracy, Christians have an obligation to make the most educated decision possible about who will represent our concerns on the local, state, and national levels. The voting booth is how we can participate in making sure there are leaders who will enact laws for the common good that do justice and love mercy; care for the most vulnerable in our society; ensure, to the extent possible, that our government lives up to this nation’s ideals by the people and for all the people; and, perhaps most significantly, hold leaders accountable.'" Submitted by Joe L.

Praying with My Feet

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[In a world that seems increasingly chaotic and broken, many of us feel helpless and afraid. We may question what we can do to make a difference. To build collective courage, in this space we will share examples of how individual members of GEC are practicing the way of Jesus, in private action or in the public arena. How might you find inspiration and hope in the small steps others are taking?]

"I attended the Seven Day gatherings beginning on October Eighth on the steps of the State Capitol building.  Five hundred clergy had signed a letter asking that Minnesota pass a ban on Assault Weapons and High Capacity Magazines.  Before the prayers, seventy of us proceeded into the building to present this letter to Governor Waltz’s representative.  The letter was read and handed over.  Then a statement from our own Bishop Craig Loya was read, which said in part 'Any refusal to enact simple and sensible gun control now is accepting the murder of innocent children as a normal part of our society. Such an acceptance would be a moral failure of the greatest magnitude.' By this morning our 500 signatures on this letter had increased to 935 clergy from 70 counties across the State.

Most of the gatherings included a period of silent prayer for 120 seconds, the amount of time the shooting at Annunciation School lasted.  As I prayed the Silence I tried to imagine how long it must have felt for those inside the worship who were sheltering and terrified, hoping it would stop. 

We realize that many other things must happen in terms of equity and inclusion and care for the least able to care for themselves before we find a solution.  And isn’t that what the Way of Jesus asks of us.  To care, and care, and care with prayer and with action that joins God in the project of healing the world with resilient, embodied, and joyful love!"
—Gretchen P

Using Money to Heal and Restore

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Friends,

A mental game I like to play sometimes goes like this: If someone gave you $15,000, no strings attached, what would you do with it?

$15k isn't enough to buy a brand new car or finish your basement. But it's more than enough to take a fabulous vacation. For many of us, $15,000 would make a huge dent in our credit card debt, or refill an emergency fund. If you're on a limited income or looking for work, if you aren't being paid during the shutdown, that amount of money would make a massive impact in your ability to sleep at night. Many in our community would be better able to meet basic needs—to eat and pay for childcare and medication and rent—with that amount of money.

So, if the wealth fairy visited you with a stack of cash: What would you do with it? This hypothetical gift game challenges my values about how I tend to my family's needs and long-term interests, as I become more aware of the needs of my neighbors and community.

Last Sunday, the Rev. Larry Bussey preached, sharing a story of his own work to use his money as a sacramental tool to help heal and restore issues he cares about. He wrestled with the texts from Jeremiah and from Luke, and wove in his experience at the No Kings rally last Saturday. You can listen to the sermon here.

All of us have financial stresses and obligations, and some of them are very different from others. That's why you'll see on our pledge card this year a box to acknowledge "I'm giving more this year knowing there are many in our faith community that have fewer financial resources at this time." If you're struggling this year, we want you to know that this community has your back. And if you aren't struggling, perhaps your gift can help bridge the gap for someone else.

With love,
Susan+

Persistent Gentle Kindness

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Beloved in Christ,

When I was seven, I was hospitalized several times in a short period for a respiratory illness that was much more serious than I had any ability to appreciate at the time. I remember very little from those days in the hospital. I remember the image of my grandmother sitting in a chair next to my bed, and I remember when Pastor Van from First Lutheran Church came to visit. I found it supremely odd that the church pastor would stop by the hospital to see me. I don’t remember a single word he said. I don’t even remember what he looked like. But I remember him being there. His presence, and my grandmother’s steady kindness, have left large and lasting imprints on the shape of my whole life. Two ordinary moments, with ordinary people, exercising ordinary kindness, are among the most durable memories I carry with me.

In these present days, when there is so much pain, and fear, and anger swirling in all directions and from all sides, it is so easy to get hooked into thinking that being a force for good and hope must involve big actions fueled by righteous anger. When I find myself going to that place, as I often do, when I get tricked into thinking following Jesus is about trying to win a battle rather than participate in God’s project to heal the world with love, it’s helpful to remember that my grandmother and Pastor Van helped shape my whole life by small, almost forgettable acts of gentle kindness.

In our reading from 2 Timothy this week, the writer urges us to “be persistent whether the time is favorable or unfavorable.” If it feels like the world is falling apart, it’s because it is, and it nearly ever has been. Our work is not to stop it from falling apart. Our work is not to be the most right and impose a new order on the falling apart world. Our job, when the weather is good and when it is very bad, is to be persistent in gentle kindness. Our job is to keep showing up in our very small communities that are dedicated to showing up as God’s gentle kindness in the world. Jesus did not take the falling apart world by angry force. He met it, as he meets it still, with persistent gentle kindness. And the resurrection we affirm as real each and every Sunday settles forever that God’s persistent gentle kindness is the most powerful force in the universe.

The kingdom of God is not ours to engineer or to impose. Rather, just as the Lake Superior tributaries have carved out the canyons that hallow and transform yet another part of our beautiful Minnesota, so our persistent gentle kindness, through small communities over a long arc, when caught up in the resurrection’s power, will flood the whole earth, and make all things new through the glorious power of love.

Grace and Peace,


The Right Reverend Craig Loya
Bishop X
Episcopal Church in Minnesota

Reimagine a Hopeful Future

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Friends,
Last week, I preached about the practice of 'Reimagine.' We dug into the hard good news the prophet Jeremiah offered to his country-people in exile, and the hard good news Jesus offers in seeing the faithfulness of the Samaritan healed of leprosy. In both those stories, God is in the business of helping us reimagine things for a hopeful future. God asks that we do the long, practical, one day at a time work of trusting that God’s triumph over death is more real than the hardships we face. You can listen to the sermon here.

Last week, we did more of that reimagining at our Wednesday evening session. We talked about the story in which Jesus notices the faithfulness of the woman at the Temple who gives her last two copper coins, "all she had to live on." Many of us have been taught that Jesus held her up as a model to emulate. Put on your 'reimagining' hat here with me for a moment: What if Jesus was lamenting her gift? What if Jesus was pointing out the hypocrisy of a system in which the wealthy could easily give large sums out of their abundance, while expecting sacrificial gifts from those most in need? Read that story -- Mark 12:38-44 -- and then read the prayer below if you want to go deeper, and listen in to our conversation here.

With love,
Susan+

A Prayer to Help us Reimagine

Jesus of Nazareth,
In scripture we hear of a woman who gave her last coin away.
You pointed her out, but you did not say, “Go and do likewise.”

So we cannot help but wonder—did you point her out to ask,
“Why does this one have so little when others have so much?”

Did you point her out to help us see the injustice that led to her suffering?
Maybe.

So today, for her, and for you, and for every person who cannot afford to give to God
And put food on the table, we offer our gifts.
We pray that you would use them for your good.
Right what is wrong.
Balance the systems of injustice.
Use these gifts to build the world that we can only imagine
But you can bring forth.

In hope we pray,
Amen.

Civic Discourse

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[In a world that seems increasingly chaotic and broken, many of us feel helpless and afraid. We may question what we can do to make a difference. To build collective courage, in this space we will share examples of how individual members of GEC are practicing the way of Jesus, in private action or in the public arena. How might you find inspiration and hope in the small steps others are taking?]

"My wife Betsy S and I recently decided to host a meet and greet at our home for Mayor Jacob Frey. I saw that Kathy M L is hosting a meet and greet for mayoral candidate Dwayne Davis. I’m sure that regardless of who we support, we all believe practicing Jesus' way of defiant, embodied, joyful love in our city means we try to create spaces for respectful civic discourse and engagement. Defiant and perfect love casts out all fear and rebukes resignation and defeatism."—submitted by Mark F

We Have Been Set Free

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Beloved in Christ,

Like most people, I am at my worst when I believe I have something to prove. When I think I need to prove to others that I am smart enough, or good enough, or right enough, or likeable enough, or worthy of love, or whatever, then everyone who is different than me is a threat, every criticism is an attack, every disagreement is a battle I have to win. That gnawing feeling we all carry somewhere inside that we are deficient in some way is called shame, and when we live from this place, our whole life feels like a fight.

Our reading from 2 Timothy this week urges us to stand before God as “a worker who has no need to be ashamed.” The heart of the gospel of Jesus Christ is that we are loved, immeasurably and unimaginably, not because we have proven ourselves worthy, but simply because we have been created by the God who is infinite love.

To be sure, we are called to act morally, to live righteously, and to reflect holiness. But not in order to convince God and others that we are good enough. Our actions, like the Samaritan leper’s gratitude in this week’s gospel, are a response to what God has already done for us. We don’t act in order to win our freedom, we act because we have already been set free.

Our current culture and politics frames life as a binary battlefield with only winners and losers. It secures that field by constantly poking at the shame inside us. You don’t have enough. You haven’t done enough. The world, or the nation, or the church, or your family, would be fine if you just tried harder and did more. It’s all a lie. Following Jesus is about subverting that lie with the gospel of God’s limitless love.

If you are discouraged by the state of our nation, if you want to be a force for healing and good, then instead of just fighting harder in a world designed to lock us in perpetual warfare, try standing “before God as one approved by him. A worker who has no need to be ashamed.” Try starting each day, each conversation, each encounter in that place.

When we set down the struggle to secure some imagined freedom, and accept that we have already been set free, we find, finally, the power to join God in setting the whole word free with irresistible joy, with unshakable hope, and with revolutionary love.
Grace and Peace,


The Right Reverend Craig Loya
Bishop X
Episcopal Church in Minnesota

Faith Grows Like a Mustard Seed

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Friends,

I hope you'll join us to reflect on the practice 'REIMAGINE' as part of Our Money Story. Scroll down for a brief prayer to start you thinking.

On Sunday, our deacon postulant / intern Huldah Niles preached on Jesus' words about faith being like a mustard seed. She talked about what a process of growing in faith might look like. You can listen to the sermon here.

In Love,
Susan+

A Prayer to Help us Reimagine
Jesus of Nazareth,
In scripture we hear of a woman who gave her last coin away.
You pointed her out, but you did not say, “Go and do likewise.”

So we cannot help but wonder—did you point her out to ask,
“Why does this one have so little when others have so much?”

Did you point her out to help us see the injustice that led to her suffering?
Maybe.

So today, for her, and for you, and for every person who cannot afford to give to God
And put food on the table, we offer our gifts.
We pray that you would use them for your good.
Right what is wrong.
Balance the systems of injustice.
Use these gifts to build the world that we can only imagine
But you can bring forth.

In hope we pray,
Amen.

The Way of Jesus Amid Authoritarianism

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Friends,

Yesterday, my sermon focused on the surprising meaning of a 6th-Century BCE scrap of real estate history -- the prophet Jeremiah, after decades of prophesying doom, releases his hold on that story just as the doom is about to come to pass. He lets go of that story and claims hope for the future, with prophetic performance art: the practical action of buying a field. You can listen to the sermon here.

This story has direct relevance to what I hear from so many of you and feel deeply myself -- a sense of despair that we are powerless to stop the authoritarian government we see now in the United States. I shared research from Erica Chenoweth, linked below, to offer hope: it takes fewer people than you might think, acting together, to help the silent majority withdraw its cooperation from an authoritarian regime.

Jeremiah's claim to the deeper story -- that God's dream of shalom is greater than all empires and authoritarians -- is what we stand on today, too. And because we trust that God's love prevails, we can offer our own performance art for God's kingdom, where we are, with what we have.

So: what story do you need to release in order to trust that God's vision of shalom will prevail? How could you practice the way of Jesus in this historic moment? What's the (metaphorical) field you can buy, where you are, with what you have?

With love,
Susan+

Dig into Erica Chenoweth's Research
Here are a few links to get you started:
Video: The Science of Protest, on the Civic Forum
Podcast: Why Protest Works, on We Can Do Hard Things
Website: ericachenoweth.com/research

Canvassing as Spiritual Practice?

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[In a world that seems increasingly chaotic and broken, many of us feel helpless and afraid. We may question what we can do to make a difference. To build collective courage, in this space we will share examples of how individual members of GEC are practicing the way of Jesus, in private action or in the public arena. How might you find inspiration and hope in the small steps others are taking?]

After hearing Susan’s moving sermon last Sunday, I went to prepare a train-the-trainer for canvass leaders. One of the most visible ways I put my faith into action is through my involvement in local politics, this year focused on the mayoral race in Minneapolis. I am co-organizing a group of everyday workers, parents, musicians, and more who are committed to knocking 10,000 doors for Omar Fateh because we share a vision for a city leader who walks the talk when it comes to advocating for affordable and quality education, creating lasting support systems for our unhoused neighbors, refusing to cooperate with the detainment of our immigrant community members, collaborating with colleagues including fellow candidates DeWayne Davis and Jazz Hampton, and so much more.

I wasn’t always interested in canvassing. Knocking on people’s doors to talk to strangers requires the same kind of oomph that performance art does! And I had a whole list of things I could use to excuse myself from participating. But then a friend invited me to door knock as a spiritual practice. It turns out that to leave the house, dressed in a campaign t-shirt with multiple buttons and holding more flyers than fit comfortably in my hand, to knock on someone’s door whom I don't know and ask them what they really care about is one of the most faithful things I have done. I perform my concerned neighbor part, I humble myself as a stranger, and I risk rejection and annoyance and bigotry in order to actually practice being a neighbor who listens to and connects with other neighbors–you and I both live here, how are we going to live here together?

God Wants to Help Reshape our Stories

Pasted GraphicFriends,

Last Sunday, I preached about pottery, about the fact that, until it's fired, the clay is infinitely re-shapeable. Our Scripture texts spoke of God as the potter, as Jesus invited people to reshape their stories, to rewrite who they could become. These earliest Christians had to overcome broken stories defined by enslaver/enslaved relationships, as they moved toward healthy stories of respectful friendships. God can do that reshaping work with us and with our stories, if we pause to remember what stories we've been telling ourselves. You can listen to the sermon here.

Money is one thing about which we tell ourselves a lot of—mostly unconscious—stories. And as Grace Episcopal Church looks to discern who God is calling us to be in the coming years, we are going to need to be able to remember and perhaps release some of our stories about money. Read on below to connect with reflections we're inviting everyone to engage this week and next, unearthing the story of your relationship with money.

We will spend the coming weeks engaging in four practices: Remember, Release, Reimagine, and Restore.

This season will be about asking: What stories about money have we learned and told, as individuals and as a congregation? Stories of scarcity, abundance, fear, joy, misuse, regret, shame, anxiety, deserving, grace, service, generosity, freedom? What parts of those stories are we still telling ourselves? If we’re willing to unearth these stories, we could let God heal them.

This is not about telling each other how much more you should be giving or what your money story should be. We hope it will be a season of openness, curiosity and healing, remembering the best of who we are and asking God to restore us into who we are called to be.

As you work through these spiritual practices, there will be opportunities to gather and talk with others. All the details are at the link below, and I hope you’ll join us for some or all of those gatherings.

With love,
Susan+

What is Helping You Act Like Jesus?

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Friends,

On Sunday morning, some of you heard an NPR Weekend Edition piece that included interviews with clergy serving near Annunciation. I was honored to be interviewed. You can listen to it here.

Last Sunday's sermon focused on the text from the prophet Isaiah -- and on God's bewilderment, in Isaiah's words: “My people have committed two evils – they have forsaken me, the fountain of living water, and dug out cisterns for themselves, cracked cisterns that can hold no water.” I spoke about the ways our culture, like Isaiah's society, has traded in the wild, living God for the small, broken gods. The idol of personal safety and personal wealth instead of God's dream of a society based in equity and care. You can watch the sermon here.

After twenty-five years of school shootings, our country's inability to make progress in mental health care, common-sense gun policy feels not just tragic nor like a mere failure of will. It feels insane. Like a collective choice not to make progress on mass shootings. How long, O Lord?

I feel bewildered. I know so many of you do too. Why have we traded in our sacred spaces - schools and churches and neighborhood streets - for pop-up war zones?

As we send our kids back to schools that regularly have to do lockdown drills, as we metabolize this latest violation, as we try to care for our neighbors, I hope you will be exquisitely gentle with yourselves and each other.

And I hope you will take to heart the words I shared from Bishop Loya on Sunday:
"Now is the time for us to show up looking, sounding, and acting like the real Jesus in the world. Now is the time for us to remember that the stakes of the gospel are high, and that following Jesus asks something big of each of us. Now is the time to remember that the Eucharistic communities we serve are not nice gatherings offering maudlin spiritual comfort, but are in the business of subverting the world’s violence with God’s irresistible love."

Some of you have already shared ways you're showing up for healing and peace. (Members of Grace have gone to the memorial site at Annunciation with peace flags—in the photo at the top of this article—and offered bagpipe music there!)

How are you taking action to show up looking, sounding, and acting like the real Jesus in the world? I'd love to share your responses in my email next week. Your small steps will be courage for someone else to take their own.

With love and bewilderment,
Susan+

Prayers in the Wake of Violence

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Friends:

Last night, we opened our doors for a vigil. Members, neighbors, and friends came and sat together in candlelight and silence.

The violence in our city in the past few days—gun violence incidents in South Minneapolis and at Annunciation Church and School in particular—hit close to many of us. I offer these prayers below, as you navigate exhaustion and fear and numbness and rage and grief, holding tight to a defiant hope in God's dream for the world: a life of safety and abundance, in right relationship with all our neighbors and the earth. We practice Jesus' way of defiant, embodied, joyful love, even and especially in the wake of profound violence.

Susan+


________________________________________________

Prayers in the Wake of Violence


Adapted from prayers by Bishop Deon Johnson of Missouri
bishopsagainstgunviolence.org

For Victims of Gun Violence
We pray as we as we call to mind the many victims of gun violence, those who have lost their lives, those who have lost their livelihood, and those who have lost life’s passion. We pray for those who have been killed here in Minneapolis, especially at Annunciation Church and School, and we hold their stories and their memories dear. May their loss not be in vain, and may we shape a new story of hope from the broken pieces of grief. Amen.

For Friends & Family of Gun Violence Victims
We pray with those who have been left behind, the families, friends, and loves ones of those taken by gun violence. We pray that in this time of heartbreak, grief, and loss that they might find comfort and hope to face the days ahead, and that their tears may be turned into songs of joy. Amen.

For Communities Torn by Gun Violence
We pray in hope as we tell the story of homes, communities, neighborhoods, cities and town shattered by gun violence. We call to mind the sacred ground around our nation that has been watered with the blood of loss and the tears of grief. Grant that we may work tirelessly towards a vision where all may sit under their own vine and fig tree in safety and security. Amen.

For First Responders
We pray for first responders, those who live with the horror of gun violence in service to the common good. We stand with them and their families as they heal from bearing witness to the aftermath of lives ended in violence. Grant that we, with them, may create a world where all are protected, all are honored and all are seen, valued and beloved. Amen.

For Schools
We pray for our school communities, for teachers and administrators who offer their energy and love for teaching the next generation, and who now also must safeguard the lives of young people with emergency protocols. We pray with them that our young people, growing up in an unpredictable and fearful world, will meet the challenges of violence with the courage to practice peace and reconciliation. Amen.

For Those Demonized in the Wake of Violence
We pray for our queer and trans friends and neighbors, for immigrants, and for all whose identities are weaponized as scapegoats in the wake of violence. Move our society to see the ways division and fear are leveraged for profit, and help us to reject the politics of hatred and fear, so that all can live with dignity and peace. Amen.

For The Perpetrators of Gun Violence
We pray for perpetrators of violence. We pray for their families, their friends, and those who love them. We pray for those who see no other way than violence. We pray for those who suffer from mental illness, social isolation, loneliness, and debilitating fear. Grant that we may reach out in love and transform anger into friendship and fear into hope. Amen.

For those who feel helpless in the face of Gun Violence
We pray in solidarity with those who feel helpless, dejected, or powerless in the face of the gun violence epidemic. We know that gun violence touches all cultures, classes, genders, races, tribes, and nations. We pray that we may not be overwhelmed by gun violence but that we may overwhelm the world with the strength of love. Amen.

____________________________________

Spiritual Practice


Honoring the Ache | from The Rev. Cameron Trimble at Piloting Faith

This week, choose one grief you’re carrying for the world. Name it clearly. Then, without trying to solve it or suppress it, spend 5–10 minutes each day simply sitting with it.

Place your hand on your heart. Breathe into the ache. Ask: What does this pain teach me about what I love?

Then, write one sentence each day that affirms that love—something you want to protect, preserve, or praise in this world.

Let your heartbreak become a compass.

A Spiritual Practice for Anger

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Friends,

Yesterday, I preached on a difficult text in the Gospel of Luke, in which Jesus says, "I came not to bring peace, but division." His exasperation, anger, and impatience are on display. We often have strong reactions to texts in which God/Jesus seem angry or judgmental -- many of us have been taught to internalize those words as shame. Many of us have been taught that those words are precisely why you shouldn't bother with Christianity anyway. In the sermon, I asked listeners to consider why Jesus was so frustrated, why people seemed to react with division to his message of peace, and how we let our own frustration and anger be a guide for our participation in the way of love. I shared a spiritual practice (hat tip to David O'Fallon, who shared it with me a few weeks ago) that can help us connect with those feelings and perhaps use them as a compass. You can find it below.

To catch up on that and other recent sermons, click here.

Along with that practice of entering our impatience and anger, people of the way of Jesus get to claim a radical hope. As our bishop put it recently:

"As followers of Jesus and heirs of God’s promise to Abraham, our call in this moment is to stand in the face of that cynicism as people of outrageous, even laughable, hope. Our call is to help lift heads hung heavy by the weight of death, injustice, and suffering, that we might all consider the stars, and make a choice to cling to nothing more, and nothing less, than the promise, most fully revealed in the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, that love’s power to bring in God’s perfect reign exceeds even their seemingly endless number. Can we live in this moment with Sarah’s defiant joy, Abraham’s absurd hope, and a fierce commitment to God’s better way, anchored in an unimaginably vast horizon of hope?"

You can read the rest of his message here.

Susan+

—Spiritual Practice
Honoring the Ache | from The Rev. Cameron Trimble at Piloting Faith

This week, choose one grief you’re carrying for the world. Name it clearly. Then, without trying to solve it or suppress it, spend 5–10 minutes each day simply sitting with it.

Place your hand on your heart. Breathe into the ache. Ask: What does this pain teach me about what I love?

Then, write one sentence each day that affirms that love—something you want to protect, preserve, or praise in this world.

Let your heartbreak become a compass.

What We Long for, but Cannot Purchase

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Friends,

Last Sunday, I preached on Jesus' story of the lucky farmer whose grain harvest exceeds his ability to store it. He decides to build bigger barns, store his harvest, and then kick back, relax, and enjoy life. "You fool!" God says to him, in Jesus' parable. Real security is not about our wealth or our possessions. Real security is to be found in God and in the webs of interdependence, of trust and reciprocal giving, that we find in generous community. Real security is “what we long for but cannot ever purchase – being valued for your own unique gifts, earning the regard of your neighbors for the quality of your character not the quantity of your possessions, what you give, not what you have." (Robin Wall Kimmerer, in The Serviceberry) You can read more about this book in a MPR interview with the author.

Jesus invites us out of the economy of scarcity and competition and into an economy of gift and celebration (check out the parables about the lost coin, the dinner party with guests from the highways and hedges...). We told a story from Robin Wall Kimmerer's latest book, The Serviceberry, to illustrate the different mindset that gift economy offers.

To catch up on that and other recent sermons, click here.

Susan+

Joyfully Rigorous

Screenshot 2025-07-24 at 9.47.30 AMThis week's lede is written by Kelsey Schuster, Canon for Operations and Chief of Staff for The Episcopal Church in Minnesota (ECMN).

My 9 year old daughter signed up for baseball this year with her best friend. She’s never played before. She wasn’t quite sure how to put the glove on, much less how to hold the bat and where to run after a hit. The learning curve was going to be steep, but she seemed excited about it.

After the first practice, where we learned that Joss wasn’t the only one on the team that wasn’t quite sure how many bases there were and what outfield was, her coach instituted practice three times a week.

Ugh, in the middle of the summer, practice three times a week and games two other days of the week? It’s too much, we’re too busy, that’s never going to work, it’s SUMMER!

Sorry, that was me, not my kid. She, in fact, was excited. ‘Do we have baseball tonight?’ Almost every day, the answer to that question was ‘yep’.

We were lucky enough to be paired with quite possibly the best coach I’ve ever been around. Coach Buck is exactly the type of person you want in your kids’ life. When I say he has a love for the game, I mean, he probably spends most of his spare mental space thinking of plays to run with the kids, which kid needs extra practice on what type of skill, and what he’s going to do about the kid who’s getting down on himself.

Coach has this magical blend of joy and love for the game and a fundamental expectation that each kid can be better, can do better. And he doesn’t expect excellence just in throwing and hitting and catching - he expects excellence in how you run onto the field when you’re playing defense, how you cheer your team on and show sportsmanship, how you treat the equipment and how you act in the dugout. It all matters, the game includes every little bit of it, and just being able to play well doesn’t make you a good player, doesn’t make you a team that can win.

Watching coach get frustrated with them when they didn’t meet that standard, I thought, gosh, those kids are just going to check out. But actually, the exact opposite happened. Somehow they knew he wasn’t frustrated with them because they were bad, he was frustrated with them because they could be better. They knew he didn’t want them to be better for his ego or just because he wanted to win (though to be clear, he really wanted to win), he wanted them to be better because he loved the game, and he wanted them to love the game too. He wanted them to be better because he knew there’s nothing better than playing a game really well. Whether you win or lose, knowing what to do and doing it well, making the big play, working together as a team, there’s just nothing better.

This is the point in my reflection where you should be saying ‘this is great, but what do you want me to do, turn 9 years old and play with the North Commons Bulldogs next summer?’ I mean, you should be so lucky, but, our experience with coach’s joyful rigor on the field has felt like a metaphor for me that relates to our call as followers of Jesus in this time.

What if there was a way to be joyfully rigorous in my prayer life and in community with others? What if I approached my faith practices like on field workouts, recognizing that I needed to work at the fundamentals of my faith if I want to be able to practice them when it’s hard and the pressure is on? What would it mean to expect something of myself and others, to expect growth and transformation as a natural part of this journey of following Jesus?

Like practicing in the rain or the heat and humidity, it might be uncomfortable and hard, but doing it when it’s hard matters. Doing the small things like reading my Bible in the morning even when I’m tired, finding ways to pray about things that have me all tangled up in my spirit, giving and showing love in ways that truly cost me something, doing all of this with excellence matters. It’s all part of the game. And finding a Coach Buck, who’s going to expect something of me and, in that expectation, help me see a reality where I CAN grow and transform, where I CAN become more loving, more patient, more kind, may be essential to this journey as well.

I wonder what joyful rigor looks like for you in your walk with Jesus these days. Reach out and let me know!

Happy summer, y’all, and Let’s Go BULLDOGS!!

Here I Am: Send Me

This week's lede is written by Karen Olson, Canon for Ministry.


Here am I! Send me!

I always get a lump in my throat when I hear this plea in Scripture. There is something so audacious, so humbling, and yet so filled with confidence about it.

You might think back to elementary school, when there were those in the classroom squirming in their chairs, and waving their hand in the air..."Oooo pick me, pick me, pick me! I know the answer!" And then those slinking in their seats, willing the teacher to literally not see them and render them invisible.

What if we take that memory (that I'm guessing many of you can relate to), and picture yourself sitting in front of God?

God: I gave you some significant gifts - have you figured out what they are?

Me: Well, I'm really not all that good at anything. I mean, thank you for giving me gifts, but I'm not really worthy.

God: Do you think I wouldn't have given them to you if I didn't think you could do them?

Me: Yes, ok. I get that. And thanks again! Well, you gave me the gift to see other people as they are and to love them, even when it's hard.

God: Very good. And I need you to do that. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. Next year and as long as you live. What else do you see in you that I need you to do?

Me: There's more?!

God: (light chuckle) Yes, my beloved, there's so much more.

Me: How do I know? I don't want to be one of those people that says, "Ooo pick me, pick me, pick me!"

God: (sigh) My child, I need you. Your friends and family need you. How about if I give you a little homework. I want you to say your prayers every morning and ask, "How can I see Jesus in someone else today?" And then spend the day looking - really looking - because Jesus is absolutely everywhere. Before you go to sleep, tell me in your prayers. "I saw Jesus in..."

Me: (wondering)..........

God: The more you see Jesus in others, the more you will see Jesus inside of you. And then you will see your gifts tucked inside and you will know how I need you to use them.

Me: (with quiet confidence) Ok. Here am I. Send me.

Press on with Yet More Courage

Friends,

Here is the prayer we opened our worship service with on Sunday.

God of shalom, we lift up this city and state and country.
We are awash in fear and hatred and violence, and we long for the healing and hope and justice only you can offer.
We pray for Melissa and Mark Hortman; receive them into the arms of your mercy.
We pray for John and Yvette Hoffman and their daughter, that they will be filled with the healing power of the Holy Spirit, that they may be able to recover and be raised up as signs of your love for the world.
We pray for the person who did these acts of violence, that he too will know the healing power of your justice.
We pray for all those tempted to violence, and for those who stoke the flames of hatred, that their hearts will be turned to your way of love.
And we pray for those who serve in positions of public trust in our legislature and everywhere, that in the midst of such fear, your love will give them the courage to continue in their duties with integrity and to press on with yet more courage toward your dream of love for this hurting world.
We ask all this in the name of the One whose way calls us to resilient, defiant, embodied, joyful love, even and especially in the midst of grief and destruction, Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.



I hope to see you this coming Sunday, June 22, when we celebrate Campus Ministry Sunday. With a sermon from Steve Mullaney (Chaplain and Executive Director of the University Episcopal Community), we'll wonder together how our baptismal promises call us to support young adults in all kinds of life transitions.

See you in church!
Susan+

Institutional Resistance Rooted in Christian Conviction

Friends,

Last Sunday, we baptized eight (!) young people, we prayed for Morris+ as he steps into retirement from being the deacon assigned at Grace Episcopal Church, we celebrated Linnea's graduation, we had a parade of birds, there was a fabulous anthem from some of our younger singers -- it was a day full of the Holy Spirit! You can listen to Morris' sermon here.

We're going to need to keep following where that Holy Spirit is leading. In a letter to the whole church today, our Presiding Bishop says, "At its best, our church is capable of moral clarity and resolute commitment to justice. I believe we can bring those strengths to bear on this gathering storm. Churches like ours, protected by the First Amendment and practiced in galvanizing people of goodwill, may be some of the last institutions capable of resisting the injustice now being promulgated. That is not a role we sought—but it is one we are called to... We are finding ways to respond as Christians to what we see happening around us," the Most Rev. Sean Rowe said. "In short, we are practicing institutional resistance rooted not in partisan allegiance, but in Christian conviction." The Presiding Bishop was speaking specifically of the new travel bans and unwarranted deployment of military personnel in Los Angeles. Alongside those challenges, today, some of our fellow followers of the way of Jesus have voted to turn their energies toward banning marriage equality.

In this Pride Month, and in this season in our city and our country, practicing Jesus' way of resilient, defiant, embodied, joyful love has never been more important. Read on for a few ways you can put your faith into practice.

See you in church!
Susan+

Reflections on the Racial Justice and Healing Retreat

By Meghan and Vicky

Vicky and Meghan are members of Grace Episcopal Church, Minneapolis, close friends, as well as mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. Together they attended the racial justice and healing retreat at Holy Trinity Episcopal Church, St. Paul on March 22, 2025

Vicky: For 35 years, I was an educator in the K-12 world and an adjunct professor of education at a local university. The last 12 years, as a teacher, professor, school district administrator, and education consultant, the collective focus was on diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) for all students. Witnessing what continues to unfold since the presidential executive orders around DEI has been devastating for all who believe the strength of our society lies in our diversity. When I read in our Sunday church bulletin about the opportunity to attend the Racial Justice and Healing Retreat, my heart leapt. "Maybe," I hoped, "I will find a source of balm for my heartbroken soul."

Meghan: In our beautifully diverse world, I've developed a deep understanding of racial and identity development and transformative justice practices through my work as an academic advisor in a college setting. I was drawn to this retreat to experience racial healing and justice from a Christian perspective and to answer the questions, "How does God view justice?" and "How are we called to respond to God's call to justice?" I also wanted to be in community with other believers who were focused on a shared mission and vision of seeking to take action to make a more equitable, inclusive world.

Vicky: What I saw and experienced at the retreat was far more than a "balm" for my troubled heart. Every moment from when I walked through the doors of Holy Trinity Church that morning to the closing eucharist at the end of the day was an immersion into the "beloved community." This phrase, "beloved community," gets a lot of use and attention, particularly in spaces focused on racial justice and immigration. But what does "beloved community" really mean?

The beloved community is a place without physical walls. Instead, it is defined by the people who gather there. It is a spiritual place where differences in theology and individual experiences fade, while at the same time, a binding together by God through the Holy Spirit resides. It is a relational space where culture and color are no longer barriers, and it's replaced by a sincere desire to know and understand each other. Finally, it is a place that stirs the individual to action, to bring this deepened awareness to our broken world, and being open to the Holy Spirit for direction and courage. That is what I experienced at the Racial Justice and Healing Retreat.

Meghan: What was most striking and profoundly meaningful to me were the experiences of encountering the Holy Spirit and using a justice-focused lens.

Through one particular Bible reading from the Book of Isaiah, I encountered the spirit in two unique ways: In connection of the spirit through the retreat group, and a personal calling to the diaconate made clear through the reading. At the beginning of the retreat, we read as a group the reading aloud. It was already clear that the spirit was "moving and shaking" by connecting us. We were asked to share a word or phrase that resonated strongly with us. Vicky and I uttered the same phrase one after the other of "your light shall rise in the darkness." At the end two people vocalized at the same time, "Then your light shall break forth like the dawn." The church space audibly reacted. As I read through this reading again later, I felt the Holy Spirit "hitting me" with a message to pursue a calling to be a deacon, which I am actively pursuing with my rector and the diocese.

Experiencing a justice-focused church service and reading Bible verses from this perspective was profoundly meaningful to me. It was the most incredible church service I had ever been a part of and using this perspective to interpret scripture "broke open" the Bible for me in a way that I had never thirsted for before. I am not a person who usually wants to "crack open" my Bible, yet this retreat left me with an electrifying need to know and encounter God more, and an escalating desire to take personal and collective action towards justice (even more than before).

Vicky: Have the politics around DEI changed? No, they have intensified. However, nothing, including the powers that be, can diminish the "beloved community." Bishop Loya said it best, through his most recent weekly letter:

"What Jesus both promises and expects of us is not to escape from it, but to keep casting into new places, in new ways, so that we can join God in drawing the whole world into the net of God's liberating life, shouting our joyful and defiant alleluia to all the forces that break down the children God so cherishes, and longs to hold."

Deepening Spiritual Culture

Friends,

Last Sunday, Dr. Marion Larson preached for us on the story in John's Gospel about Thomas. She shared a remarkable insight with us -- Thomas may have believed that, in his abandonment of Jesus before the crucifixion, he was the one who betrayed Jesus. From Thomas' perspective, his choices and fears separated him from the rest of the grieving, fearful disciples. How does he find his way back to his friends, his faith, his Lord? Listen to Marion's sermon from last Sunday here.

Lay leadership in the spiritual life of our congregation is a strength at Grace Episcopal Church. From the Healing Prayer team that gathers once a month and prays at the back of the church on Sunday mornings, to the Centering Prayer practice here each Wednesday at 5:30pm, to the adults leading Godly Play with our youngest members, lay (non-ordained) leaders create a shared culture of discipleship at Grace.

We're deepening that culture here. Marion and Dave Larson are both participating in the two-year Lay Preaching Training Institute offered by our diocese. With studies of Scripture and sermon-craft, this program helps lay preachers open the Gospels with pastoral, prophetic, and theological wisdom. Similarly, a team of four members from Grace are participating in the three-year Transforming Hearts program offered by the Episcopal House of Prayer. With in-person overnight retreats, monthly meetings, and personal practice, participants will learn contemplative spiritual practices that they can bring back and teach in our congregation. Dave Carpenter, Jake Fischer, Kathleen Anderson-Wyman, and Diane Barnett are the team from GEC, and I'm participating in a related pilot program as well.

I preached on Easter Sunday that we can find courage to practice the way of Jesus from four touchstones: Time spent with Jesus, deep connection to others on the way, humble service, and remembering the resurrection. (Catch my sermon from Easter Day here.) Lay leaders at GEC are spending time with Jesus through these programs, deepening our shared capacity for courage and action. Alleluia!

See you in church!
Susan+

Palm Sunday

Friends,

In yesterday's sermon, I preached about Jesus' entry into Jerusalem. Jesus and his followers would have known that another procession was entering Jerusalem in the days before Passover. Pontius Pilate's imperial motorcade, with centurions and chariots and soldiers, came into the city around the Passover to ensure that the holiday, celebrating the escape of the Hebrews from another oppressive regime, didn't repeat itself. So Jesus' demonstration, with a king on a donkey and followers shouting about peace, was more than a spontaneous burst of enthusiasm. It would have been a demonstration calculated to evoke a response from the governing authorities. You can watch the sermon here.

If you're curious to learn more about this reading of Palm Sunday, I recommend The Last Week: What the Scriptures Really Teach about Jesus's Final Days in Jerusalem, by Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan.

And now, we're in Holy Week: the most sacred days of the Christian year. You can see all the details for our Holy Week services on our website calendar .

If you can't join us in person, I invite you to take time each day to read the texts for worship. Walking with Jesus to the cross, with all of the beauty and violence in that story, is one way we can build our own courage to practice the way of Jesus today.

See you in church!

Susan+

Don't Just Do Something...

Dearly Beloved,

In the gospel lesson appointed for this coming Sunday, Jesus and his disciples are gathered at the home of Lazarus a few days before Jesus's arrest. They are no doubt engaged in something that seems important, when Mary barges in with a jar of expensive and pungent perfume, anointing Jesus’ feet, and wiping them with her hair. It’s a scene of disorienting intimacy. The awkwardness in the room is palpable.

Judas raises the obvious objection: why would we waste something so expensive on such a weird and frivolous act, when the money could be given to the poor? There is work to be done, good to accomplish in the world, forces of evil to overcome. Let’s get on with it.

Like Judas, we often draw a hard line between action and contemplation. Especially during hard times, we tend to favor the former over the latter. Prayer is all well and good, we imagine, but action in the world is what really counts. We have to do something!

Mary’s interruption of a church meeting with an act of extravagant contemplation reminds us that the actions we take in the world will always be misguided unless they are grown in the soil of regular and intimate encounters with Jesus. Occasionally, we have to flip the injunction of “Don’t just stand there, do something!” to “Don’t just do something, stand there, with Jesus!”

Mary’s contemplative perfume is, of course, meant to transform the stink of death. And that’s where the false binary of prayer and action breaks down. We all know the world stinks of death, of injustice, of fear, and of suffering. The time we spend simply being with Jesus in prayer, and in our weekly worship, isn’t about accomplishing anything, or even making ourselves feel better. The time we spend in prayer is about being saturated in the perfume of God’s love, so that we render the scent of it wherever we go. Standing there, doing nothing with Jesus, is the only way we can ensure our acting in the world is really for Jesus, and not just imposing our own will. So beloved, in these late days of Lent, for the love of God, don’t just do something, stand there, with Jesus, until death’s hold on the world is fully and gloriously swallowed by God’s eternal Easter Day.

Grace and Peace,

The Right Reverend Craig Loya 
Bishop X
Episcopal Church in Minnesota

Falling in Love with Lent

Falling in Love with Lent

A Reflection by the Rev. Lydia Gajdel

I fell in love with Lent when I was in college, sitting quietly in a tiny, windowless, incense filled chapel as the Jesuits preached a theology grounded in God’s abounding love for her complex, flawed creatures. Something about wandering into the desert with Jesus and our ancestors made sense to me and continues to feel like a natural way for me to grow closer to God.

That is what we do every year as we enter into the journey of Lent. Stripping down the trappings of existence and grounding ourselves in the fullness of our humanity, the beauty and brokenness inextricably linked, so we may come face to face with God’s redeeming love for us. In Lent, we are given the gift of 40 days to recalibrate ourselves to the rhythms of our created being and who we say we are as Christians. It is important that we do not go straight to Easter. We do not jump to the good part and celebrate our redemption without wading through the muck for a moment. Because for the resurrection to happen, we need death. We cannot have salvation without first standing before that which we need saving from, that which separates us from God. It is a natural part of our very existence. Death and renewal happen every year as the snow melts and the world turns green again, as friendships fade and new ones form, as the death of a loved one cracks us open and ushers in a new part of ourselves we may have never had access to before. And so we spend 40 days peeling back the layers, experiencing our own brokenness, so that we may be able to truly relish in the triumph of our redemption.

Lent this year feels particularly poignant, like our human brokenness is on full display as we wonder silently and aloud how this is all going to get redeemed. When we confess our sins together, we repent of the evil that enslaves us, the evil we have done and the evil done on our behalf. We do not have to look farther than our favorite news outlet or social media cesspool to grapple with the evil of which we pray. And just as the world finds another creative way to embrace chaos, we are invited out into the desert, into our Lenten practice. It is because of, not despite, the world in which we live that we intentionally prepare, listening for God’s call through the cacophony of sound and taking another step closer to God and who God created us to be. Lent was never made for self-flagellation, but rather to name and examine the ways in which we are separated from God and to intentionally turn back.

During this time when the world feels big and scary for so many of us, when emotions run high and it feels like we spend our days fighting, fleeing, and fawning, we are reminded of the words and deeds of our faith. On Ash Wednesday, each one of us is invited to the observance of a holy Lent. The liturgy asks us to do so “by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word.” In this time set apart, 40 days to wander in the desert, we are invited to be in the world anew, reconnecting with ourselves and our Maker. No matter what the journey back to God looks like for each of us as individuals, let us take solace in knowing we walk the road together.

Making Space for God

Beloved in Christ,

Lent arrived with a blizzard that has now dispersed almost as quickly as it arrived. I woke up especially early this morning to get ready for a 7:30 am liturgy, and was just leaving the house when I got word of the decision to cancel. There I was, full of the adrenaline-fueled, frenetic energy that comes from trying to get out the door quickly, and suddenly I was forced to just stay put, and sit still. Now, after a few hours, the sun is peaking out, the wind is dying down, and it’s a new world compared to what things looked like this morning.

In just a few hours, Minnesota’s weather has given us the perfect pattern of the journey from Lent through Easter. The frenetic, anxious energy with which we so often approach our lives is rooted in a deeply disordered faith. We, like our original parents in the Garden of Eden, so often live our lives as if we are like God, as if the world depends on our efforts rather than God’s power and love. Human sinfulness, injustice and oppression, and the badness that so often marks our relationship all grows from our desire to possess, control, and force our will upon the world and the people around us.

Ash Wednesday’s reminder of our mortality, and Lent’s call to repentance, is an invitation rightly order our faith. It’s a time to remember that God is God, and we are not. Just like a good Minnesota blizzard, Lent forces us to stop, and to stay put for just a while. We cannot know God’s mighty power to save if we aren’t regularly making space for God in our hearts, lives, relationships, and calendars.

We can’t respond to God’s call in this season of government chaos, incoming injustice on all sides, uncertainty, and fear with more frenetic energy. We can’t live like it is up to us to save the world. Our actions will only be faithful if they are rooted deep in the soil of prayer. So as we travel these forty days waiting for God’s sun to emerge again, how can you heed Lenten’s blizzard call to sit still, to stay put, to dig deep into the soil of God’s power and love, so that together, we might bear the true and lasting Easter fruit of live, justice, peace, and everlasting joy?


Grace and Peace,

Bishop Craig Loya

Crisis or Opportunity?

Readers Respond to Last Week's Question: Crisis or Opportunity?

I've heard from many of you in response to my post last week, and I have shared some of those responses (with permission) with the parish through our weekly email.

What did we discover?

We are not a politically uniform congregation. While some of us are deeply distressed by the moves of the current administration, others see necessary reforms. The Episcopal Church holds dear the notion that we don't all have to agree with each other on politics nor on the finer points of theology. The Episcopal Church also holds dear the notion that religion is political; our faith should impact the way we speak, live, and act in the world. So we don't all have to agree; in a deeply divided nation, seeing and hearing each other's hopes and fears is itself an act of faith in the God whose dream of Beloved Community continues to inspire us.

My pastoral goals in sharing these writings are:

To help us see ourselves: How are people feeling and responding to political circumstances? Know each other is part of the work of Christian community; it's essential to compassion and care and accompanying each other as we practice the way of Jesus.

To raise each other's voices as pastoral care for each other. There will likely be something below that resonates with you. In the midst of change, connection is one way to break isolation and build our faith and courage.

To build our capacity for curiosity when we disagree. Perhaps there was something I reported in my email that doesn't resonate with you. How might you honor the dignity of every human being by bringing curiosity to viewpoints you disagree with?

Spiritual Crisis?

Friends,

Last weekend, the Rev. Larry Bussey preached for us. “When our love and our trust get pointed in the wrong direction, we pay a price.” Larry invited us to hear the blessings and the woes we read from the Gospel of Luke as if Jesus were speaking directly to us, and to claim “the triumph of love in the face of the lust for power and control.” You can watch the sermon here. Larry's sermon laid out the bewilderment many of us are feeling in these days.

Our Pastoral Care team discussed it this morning—it feels like a mass spiritual crisis for many of us.

My hunch—grasping in the dark here—is that many folks, especially white moderates and progressives, are feeling disoriented by the seeming loss of something we've taken for granted: stable, multicultural democracy. Those of us who feel like the kingdom of God aligns best with the Democratic Party platform are stuck: how do we live faithfully now? We feel responsible to do something. But there's too much to do, too many fronts to act on, and we aren't sure how to determine what our 'lane' is. Powerlessness and despair can ensue. That's my hunch.

Does that 'spiritual crisis' language resonate with you?

I'd love to hear from you about it. Email me: Does this moment in our homes, cities, workplaces and country feel like a spiritual crisis? How so? Is there spiritual opportunity here? What might the Holy Spirit be up to in the midst of all this? What happens when you pray about it? What kind of prayer practices are helping you see your way (or God's way?) through?

As you ponder these questions: Remember that you are deeply, unendingly loved by the God who triumphs over evil, death, and despair.

In the name of Jesus,
Susan+

Just Dance

Friends,

Yesterday, some of the youngest members of Grace Episcopal Church preached the Gospel for us. You can watch the video here. I'm grateful for the leadership of our young people who offered their voices and interpretations and movement to preach the Good News today, and to the adults who supported them in the process!

In the midst of the onslaught of executive orders, in the midst of Project 2025 playing out before our eyes, in the midst of climate catastrophe and all our civic and personal fears and disasters, we got to see yesterday morning a small group of faithful people interpret the Gospel and invite us into the dance. We talk here often about resilient, defiant, embodied, joyful love. Dance is just about as perfect a practice of that kind of love as we could come up with: Showing up in our bodies, with defiant joy, resiliently committing to trust in God and to share love despite the fear and despair that we might feel. Keep on dancing with the Holy Spirit these days, friends.  
Peace, Susan+

By yourself you’re unprotected.
With a friend you can face the worst.
Can you round up a third?
A three-stranded rope isn’t easily snapped.
Ecclesiastes 4:12

Chaos and Stillness

Friends,

Before last Sunday's Annual Meeting, I preached about Bishop Henry Benjamin Whipple, who went to President Lincoln to ask for mercy for the Dakota warriors, who had been condemned to death en masse. You can watch the sermon here. I previewed a bit of where we're going in 2025 in that sermon as well!

Looking back at our history matters, because it helps us get some perspective on the present. As the new presidential administration has released so many executive orders designed to reshape the United States government, many people are left feeling bewildered, to say the least.

It makes me think of the story in 1 Kings 19, in which Elijah, reeling, flees for his life from the pursuit of his enemies, and hides in a remote cave in the wilderness, and waits for a word from God.

Now there was a great wind,
so strong that it was splitting mountains
and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord,
but the Lord was not in the wind,
and after the wind an earthquake,
but the Lord was not in the earthquake,
and after the earthquake a fire,
but the Lord was not in the fire,
and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.
When Elijah heard it,
he wrapped his face in his mantle
and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.
1 Kings 19:11-13


Environmental chaos, actual wildfires, the foundation-shaking experience of personal health issues and losses, and the wildfire of political upheaval: all of these catastrophes are present, in some way, in our lives. And the political strategy of 'flooding the zone' is expertly designed to destabilize people so that they are afraid, paralyzed, and reactive to those literal and metaphorical winds, earthquakes, and fires.

How might we find the still point, the quiet, the silent space in which to hear the voice of God? What kind of practices of prayer, what grounding in community and faith, what discernment of action will help you recognize the voice of God in the midst of chaos?

The God who spoke out of the silence and chaos of Creation, the God who was courageously silent in trial before state-sponsored execution, the God whose wind and flame broke over the earliest Christians and breathes in us now, is present in the midst of the noise and fear. We, like Elijah, get to find times of retreat and stillness in order to let our souls be nourished by that sacred, spacious quiet.

Peace,
Susan+