I’ve been struck lately by the lovely pictures I’ve seen of children heading off to their first day of school. Whether it’s preschool or kindergarten or first grade, or middle school or high school or college, these pictures of smiling faces, of brave and wistful and hopeful faces, they move me so much. This time of year brings these threshold moments. This shift from summer to fall brings this big transition time, new beginnings, and endings too. A time of holding on, and of letting go.
Our Forebears, Our Destiny, Our Freedom
Sermon given by Joshua Goulet on September 2, 2018.
Divided Desires
What is something that makes you comfortable right when you walk into a space? It could be the first time you’ve been in a house, or it could your own home, someplace you’ve walked in hundreds of times. Think about it for a second, what makes you feel at home? It could be how clean or messy it is. How many windows or the pictures on the walls or simply the people inside of it.
Walk with Frost
Sermon given by Cil Dullea, August 19, 2018
Insights from Nature
Sermon given by Rev. Patricia Hatch, August 12, 2018.
Listening into Harmony
Reflection given by Zan Spaihts-Mohns, August 5, 2018, followed by a hymn sing!
Life, Art and Creation: Our Connection to the World
Sermon given by Bo Crowell, July 29, 2018
Breathing In, Digging Deep, Finding Hope
Sermon given by Bill Taylor, July 22, 2018
A Beautiful Order
A couple of weeks ago, I made a list of things I want to get done before I head off on vacation. Things like clean out my e-mail inbox, catch up on correspondence, update our parish record of weddings and funerals; generally clean up my life. So the last few days I’ve been on something of a tear—I deleted or filed about 2500 old emails. I cleaned out the bag I carry my stuff in, and tidied my desk. I’m not done, but there’s some order emerging from the chaos!
Silence in the Midst
I don’t know about you, but these days I find myself craving silence. In the midst of the din of distractions, disturbing news, and the daily noisiness of our on-the-go, accessible culture, I seek silence. Of course I love many sounds: music, birdsong, the voice of my granddaughter or other loved ones, but I yearn for silence. I love the waves breaking on the shore and the cry of the gulls, yet, I long for silence.