John 2: 18-19
The Jews then said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”
I had to have surgery was when I was about 14. The doctors told me what they were going to do, including using anesthesia to put me to sleep. Because they had to review risks and benefits of the surgery, I heard what my mom heard, that there is a risk of death with any use of general anesthesia and abdominal surgery. That was all I heard, not the odds ratios, not the fact that surgery was unavoidable. Then my mom spoke up. “Honey, you need to trust me. I wouldn’t bring you here if I didn’t trust them and if I thought there was any chance you might die because of this. I have faith you’re going to be just fine. I want you to have that faith, too.” I was not ready to trust, but I knew I needed the surgery, so I fearfully prayed, and prayed, and prayed right up until the moment the IV medication put me to sleep.
In this day and age, and I would add especially just inside the doorstep of 2021, it may feel like we have all been told to distrust any information we’re given, especially something outrageous, from a source not yet well known to us. To Jews listening to Jesus make a claim like this (just after he has overturned the money changing tables and angrily driven out the merchants out of the Temple with a whip), it would reasonable to assume they thought him crazy. Foreshadowing his own death and resurrection, they believed him at that time to be talking about rebuilding the Temple that, after total destruction and 46 years of reconstruction, was still not finished. Granted, understanding he was talking about coming back from the dead would have seemed even more outlandish, but they were clearly not ready to believe either idea.
How do we handle it when we are asked to put faith in God, or even in someone flesh and blood close to us who has our complete love and trust, and the promise is beyond our wildest imagining? How easy is it to step out when we don’t see the ground beneath us but imagine, instead, the worst outcomes?
Dear God, thank you for believing in us and our abilities to spread your Love in this world, even when we don’t trust in your ability to take care of us. Help us with our belief when it fails; this world teaches us to distrust, but we know You are the one we can, and should, always trust. Amen.
Submitted by Noel Jacobs who has been a member of St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church for over four years with his wife Anne and their twins Keegan and Felix. He enjoys making jewelry for his family and friends and traveling with his family. He is a child psychologist who serves kids going through treatment for chronic health issues, and has recently discovered a love of making films that are helpful for teaching and encouraging kids and families.
WHAT WILL YOU CHOOSE?
We just sang “The King of Love My Shepherd Is”, an adaptation of Psalm 23.
I am grateful for those who created the liturgical calendar and who included this Psalm as part of our readings for today. This Psalm and the Gospel lesson talk about selfless shepherds; both acknowledge darkness, and both speak of abundance.
Psalm 23, which is sometimes called the “Song of Trust”, is one of the most well known. And yes, we often hear it at funerals. This Psalm challenges us to see, to acknowledge the darkness but also hope.
“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.”
Today, many of us might relate to a sense of darkness, a place without light. It seems we have been in the valley for some time. We are immersed in a time of challenge, of death and of profound change. We may even find ourselves asking, Do I make a difference? Even as we celebrate Easter, we may not see the light around us.
But this Psalm is more about God centered living then about death. It says we lack nothing; it talks about our lives and the abundance that we have been given.
God is present with us. It is one of the places in the Bible which describes God in the 1st person with such tenderness. It reflects a very intimate relationship with God.
The Lord is my shepherd.
He revives my soul.
This Psalm projects a simple image; God and a single sheep, not a flock; God the host and me, a single guest.
It talks about abundance.
I shall not be in want.
my cup is running over.
The gospel lesson today is also one which many of us will have recognized. It is sometimes called the Good Shepherd discourse. Today’s reading begins with verse 11, but I want to step back one verse. Verse 10 concludes Jesus’s description of himself as the gate through which the sheep, who know his voice, are called to enter. Jesus says,
“I have come that they may have life and have it more abundantly.”
This line also underlies today’s reading. Abundance is not about cars and homes and boats. It’s about the quality of life. It lets us touch the deepest part of ourselves. It connects us with the divine, with the holy, and with what is good, true, and beautiful in this world. It is not so much about getting something we do not have as to living more fully into what is already present.
Abundance is love that leads to love. It is joy that leads to joy. It is peace that leads to peace. It is kindness that leads to kindness. It is stepping more deeply and more fully into our own life and into the lives of others.
Abundance is Jesus’s way of being in the world. It is the presence of God lived through our lives. This is the tone for the telling of today’s story - about the good shepherd, the sheep, the hired hand, and the wolf.
When you hear about the Good Shepherd, who do you think of?
And the sheep
– why that’s us.
And the hired hand – those that would leave the sheep unprotected from the wolf. Yes – those are typical answers, and they are correct but---.
Today, I would like to share another way of looking at this reading; of looking at the images of the shepherd, the sheep, the hired hand and the wolf in a different way.
Could the Good Shepherd be other than Jesus?
Could you be the shepherd?
Think about our readings today. What does the shepherd do? The shepherd leads and guides. The shepherd revives. The shepherd protects. The shepherd secures access to food and water. The Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.
A faithful pastor displays similar characteristics as the Good Shepherd. He sacrifices for the sheep, she knows the sheep, and the sheep will know her. The word "pastor" is derived the word for shepherd from the verb “pascere” – meaning "to lead to pasture, set to grazing.”
Father Joseph has taken the next definition to heart and I say this in all love - the paster is one who “causes (the sheep) to eat".
When have you experienced a shepherd in your life? Someone who has welcomed you. Someone who has fed and nourished your soul? Someone who said to you just the right thing at the right time.
When have you been a shepherd to someone? Recall the times you offered help to someone with a project, offered time to listen, to be present?
Shepherding is about sharing abundance. It is about pointing out something that often already exists. Sometimes it is just to remind us of what really matters most. Sometimes just to listen.
So, who are the sheep?
We typically understand the story to say, “we are the sheep”. But I want to share another way to look at “sheep”.
In Jesus’ time, everyone knew firsthand about sheep. Sheep were highly valued because they provided food, drink and warmth.
So, who or what are the sheep? I suggest that the “sheep” represent the gifts of abundance given to us by God. These are the things entrusted to us and others. They are the elements of life that really matter, those intangibles that have ultimate value.
Think about our families, friendships and the dreams of children as sheep. Consider the hopes of our neighbors and the health of the earth as sheep. Consider our dreams and the dreams of our friends and our communities as sheep. There are sheep everywhere.
To see these in this way reminds us that Jesus is calling us to be a shepherd of the sheep. By Jesus’s example, we are all called to care for them, to be there for each other. When we see our cups in this way, we recognize the gift of abundance. These gifts have been entrusted to us and require respect and honor and care.
Jesus contrasts the Good Shepherd with the hired hand. The hired hand does not own the sheep, so he is not committed to their care. The hired hand leaves when it gets too difficult, too scary, too risky.
Each of us could share a story about a hired hand in our life, someone who, when you needed them most, ran out, abandoned us. They let the wolf take hold. Could that be me? Could that be you?
I must admit, there are times when I have failed to follow Jesus’s example. I was like the hired hand and ran away. My guess is all of us, painful as it may be to admit, can find times when we too acted like the hired hand. It is easy for us to miss Jesus’s call. We considered the short-term wages were more important than sharing the abundance of the love given to us.
Who then, is the wolf?
Jesus says the “wolf will snatch and scatter the sheep”. Wolves come in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes it is us.
the wolf of busyness – where we are “too busy” to lend a hand,
or the wolf of needing approval where we are more concerned about appearance or being in control.
Sometimes the wolf comes from outside. We allow darkness to overtake our dreams or the dreams of others and we do not respond.
Has a hired hand allowed a wolf to come near you? Has the wolf been allowed to attack your dreams or the dreams of another? Have they hidden the abundance given to us?
It is pretty easy to see the good shepherd and the sheep as images of abundance.
The hired hand and the wolf point to abundance in a different way. They point to what is not there, what is missing.
We are called to remember the abundance.
The table spread before us.
my cup running over.
And in the Gospel, we see the intimacy, the abundance of love in the opening line.
“Jesus said, ‘I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”
Jesus is using this story to remind us of the abundance that God has given us. Jesus is asking us to open our eyes, to see a new way of living. In a sense, Jesus is offering a road map for our lives.
Jesus is calling us to be shepherds too!
We are all called -
to share the abundance of life,
to remain faithful to our call,
to love one another
and to work to shield each other from the wolves.
Yes, we can and will be the shepherd, the sheep, the hired hand and even the wolf at different times of our lives.
The question is - Who will you be today?
With God’s help, you can be a shepherd too.
Todd Olberding, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church
HISTORY AND DEEPER LOOK AT THE PSALMS OF THE BIBLE - DR. GIL HAAS, ST. AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY EPISCOPAL CHURCH
The well known psalms are probably words to Jewish hymns. There are 150 psalms in Western Christian traditions, but as many as 173 in Orthodox and Jewish texts, implying that our psalms were selected from a larger group. Although seventy-three psalms are attributed to King David, there is no hard evidence for actual Davidic authorship. Instead, psalms were composed over five centuries from David’s monarchy and Solomon’s Temple to a much later time after the Jewish exile. The psalms were finally compiled into a hymnal at the time of the second Temple in 515 B.C. This hymnal was divided into five roughly equal parts, mirroring the Pentateuch - the first five Biblical books. Anglicans and Protestants number the psalms according to Hebraic manuscripts, while Catholic texts use a slightly different Greek numbering system. This lack of a universal form may be due to copyists’ mistakes. The 1928 Book of Common Prayer was the first to use asterisks as breath-marks to divide verses; the 1892 book used a colon. Prior to that, no breath-marks were used. The position of these marks is important, since the placement of a breath mark at different locations dramatically affects a verse’s meaning.
~Dr. Gil Haas, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church
THE WORD 'PASCHAL' - MEANING, ORIGIN, HISTORY - DR. GIL HAAS, ST. AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY EPISCOPAL CHURCH
The word “Paschal” is derived from Greek (pascha) and Hebrew (pesah) words that mean “to jump” or “to pass over”. Paschal, in Judeo-Christian terms, means pertaining either to Easter (the Pascha) or to its antecedent, the Hebrew Passover. In the Old Testament, God’s Passover resulted in the gift of freedom to the Hebrew people from their Egyptian masters. In the New Testament, the Paschal Mystery is the central tenet of Christianity that resulted in the salvation of Christ’s followers. It is a single phrase that encompasses the death, resurrection, ascension, giving of the Holy Spirit, gift of baptism, the calling of followers from every nation and language, and a repeating participation in this Mystery at each baptism and through the consuming of Christ’s body and blood at every Eucharist. In this Christian context, the word “mystery” implies a divine mystery that cannot be grasped by mere human reasoning, but, by living a life centered around Christ and His teachings, we can glean some knowledge and experience of this marvelous paradigm. Each year, all of these concepts become drawn together at the Great Vigil of Easter which is the most comprehensive and dramatic liturgy of the Church.
~ Dr. Gil Haas, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church
CAN I GET A WITNESS? - A SERMON ON 1 JOHN 3:1-7 AND LUKE 24:36-48, REV. JOSEPH ALSAY, ST. AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY EPISCOPAL CHURCH
I John 3:1-7 & Luke 24:36-48
“Can I Get a Witness?”
Rev. Joseph C. Alsay, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church
‘Hello! My name is Elder Price, and I would like to share with you the most amazing book!”
This is the opening line to the popular 2011 Broadway hit The Book of Mormon. The story follows a group of young men who are sent out to be witnesses to the world about their faith. The main characters go to Uganda to convert the people to the Mormon faith.
There is a transformation that happens in this musical comedy which pokes fun at this tradition of bearing witness throughout the world.
When most people think about witnessing, I imagine this is the image that comes to mind. For so many, this kind of witnessing is cringe worthy. You can just about ask me to do anything, but go up to someone I don’t know and talk about my faith.
And yet, in the resurrection story we just read today, Jesus says “You are witnesses to these things.” Jesus calls his disciples, then and now, to be witnesses. There is no way to soft pedal around it; Jesus calls us to be witnesses to what God has done and is still doing for us and all the world.
Episcopalians, and most other mainline denominations, aren’t well known for our witnessing. In fact, Bishop Susan Snook, who was the former Canon for Church Growth in this diocese wrote in 2018, the average Episcopalian, invites someone to go to church every 38 years.
That’s about twice in a life-time.
Dr. David Lose, who is a theologian and former president of Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia points out, we bear witness all the time to things that are important to us. Great movies, television programs, books we’ve read, our favorite sports team, a great restaurant the list goes on and on. We tell each other all the time, in person or on social media, about things that matter to us.
But talking about God, or how we see God working in our life……not so much.
This week’s readings are a wake-up call of sorts. Easter, only two weeks ago, already seems like a distant memory. Life in the church returns to somewhat normal after Easter.
Resurrection has the tendency to be less than present day reality, more like a claim about a past event or a future assurance. It seems that we have all too many reminders of death, and not enough reminders of life. Globally, nationally, in our community and in our families, on far too many days the presence of death is more palpable than the promise of life.
The unexpected diagnosis of cancer that turns your world upside down, war and oppression, broken relationships, family members and friends living with depression, loneliness or bullying. It’s difficult to see new life and resurrection hope breaking in among us.
New life here and now is hard to see. Yet Jesus calls us to live in this moment. He doesn’t say “you were” or “you will be” my witnesses. In this moment, and in this life, we are witnesses to the resurrection.
Witnessing does not mean shoving our faith down someone else’s throat or threatening them with eternal hell fire if they don’t believe like we do. It’s simply telling others where we sense God at work in your life, in their life, and in the world.
So, I’m going to challenge you to think differently this week, though; and be ready to have your minds and hearts opened up to the new life all around you.
Who will be the bearer of the new light and life to you?
Where will you see God at work through another human being?
When will your faith be stirred to new life by doubts and wonder?
Doubt is not the opposite of faith, but a necessary ingredient. Because honestly in light of all of the death and trauma and disappointment in life, at times, it’s impossible not to wonder and doubt if the good news of the resurrection is true.
Yet, we gather as the faithful, to wonder, to live in the mystery, to hear the promise, to engage with others, so that our minds will be opened to understand the scriptures, that we too may bear witness to the new life that is springing forth all around us.
So, although many of us may not ring the doorbells of our neighbors throughout the city. There is a need, once fed and nourished by the Holy One at this table to go out… and share the good news…. To bear witness to the many and varied ways that God is transforming you and bringing new life to the whole creation.
Following Lazarus’ resurrection, the disciples were hesitant to return to Judea where the Jews had threatened to stone Jesus. Thomas rebukes his fellow disciples by boldly proposing, “Let us also go, that we may die with Him.” When Jesus later promises that he will prepare a heavenly home for his followers, a more hesitant Thomas queries, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” Last Sunday’s Gospel relates Thomas’ doubts about Christ’s resurrection. However, after seeing Jesus’ wounded body, he confesses, “My Lord and my God”. Mirroring Thomas’ recognition of Christ’s resurrected presence, some Christians softly repeat this phrase while making the sign of the cross when the consecrated host is elevated during the Eucharistic Prayer. After Jesus’ ascension, Thomas, aka “the twin”, is said to have evangelized as far as India. Few texts identify Thomas’ twin, but in a disputed apocryphal text, it is reportedly Jesus himself. In another apocryphal text, Thomas was transported from India to Jerusalem to witness Mary’s death and assumption into heaven at which time she drops her girdle. The apostles are skeptical of Thomas’ story until they view Mary’s empty tomb containing only her girdle.
~ Dr. Gil Haas, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church
THE B-WORD - A SERMON AND REFLECTIONS ON ACTS 4:32-35, 1 JOHN 1:1-2:2 AND JOHN 20:19-31 - REV. JOSEPH C. ALSAY, ST. AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY EPISCOPAL CHURCH
For many, Christianity is all about a set of beliefs that people need to mentally check off. The required ones would probably be: the resurrection of Jesus; the full divinity and humanity of Jesus; the Trinity; the virgin birth; the Sacraments; life after death. If you have some doubts and can’t fully sign on to these beliefs, you are not a Christian.
So, is there room for doubts and questions?
This congregation says that you are welcome here wherever you are in your spiritual life. Even if you struggle with organized religion. We say that we are open to questions and issues of faith and doubt.
Many people eventually face a crisis of faith. They realize that they have outgrown the belief system they had when they were a teenager. They may have been raised in a religious system that didn’t allow room for doubt or questioning. And as adults they simply can’t sign on to the kind of belief they were taught when they were young. Instead of struggling with their questions and letting the process led them to a different and possibly a deeper faith, they throw it all away. It makes me sad.
You can understand how people get fed up with organized religion. So often it can come across as having all the answers and leaving no room for doubts or querying. Sometimes the scariest people are the ones who are so certain that they have all the answers and that everyone else is wrong. You can’t discuss anything with people like that. Their minds are made up.
That’s the place Elaine Pagels was at with the church.
Elaine Pagels who is a professor of religion at Princeton; biblical scholar; and has written extensively on the early Church and the Gnostic Gospel of Thomas was jogging on a Sunday morning and decided to stop in a Manhattan Church. The previous night Elaine had been sleepless with fear and worry. Her two-and-a-half-year-old son Mark, had already faced open-heart surgery. She and her husband had just learned that Mark had pulmonary hypertension and may only live a few months or a few years.
But when she walked into a church service in progress- a Sunday assembly- she was moved. Moved by the soaring music by the prayers, moved by the ritual. She sensed that this community honestly acknowledged that which we cannot control or imagine. That it embodied hope. And somehow that made the presence of death bearable.
Elaine returned to that church. Not to sign on to a set of beliefs. Rather, in that place her defenses fell away, exposing storms of grief and hope. There she gathered new energy. There she resolved to face whatever awaited her son, her husband, herself and rest of the community.
It’s on this Second Sunday of Easter that our gospel includes the story of Thomas and his doubts about the resurrection. He needs proof. He needs evidence in order to believe. The proof is in the pudding…. Right?
That’s why I love Thomas. Because he is willing to do the hard work. The searching, the seeking, the struggling.
Blessed are those who have not seen and have yet come to believe.
As the risen Christ comes among us with words of peace and reconciliation. We see and hear this Word of life. We touch it with our hands. Christ appears in word and water, in bread and wine, and in the community gathered around these signs. The first disciples saw the nail marks in his hands and side, and they came to believe.
We too see Christ made known in our wounds and in the world’s pain and suffering.
When Elaine Pagel’s son suddenly died at age six, the community offered shelter along with words and music. Somehow it bridged an abyss that seemed impassable. With faces wet with tears, with hugs, and with resurrection hope came forth.
Even amid our doubts, we confess the “B”-word: I believe!
~Rev. Joseph C. Alsay, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church
"ROLL THE STONE AWAY!" - SERMON ON MARK 16:1-8 - REV. JOSEPH C. ALSAY, ST. AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY EPISCOPAL CHURCH
Late Friday night, I had a poignant discussion with one of our beloved members about the number of liturgical services that have emotionally impacted him, and the way he now looks at life itself.
He mentioned it was the first time he attended our evening Good Friday service, and what happen at the end of that solemn liturgy took him by utter surprise. “Do you know what it was?” It was the “Sealing of the Doors of the Church.” More specifically, the great boom or thud that occur when the sepulcher stone is slammed against those wooden doors.
It marks the end of our evening service and symbolizes the finality of death.
The scriptures tell us the women go to the tomb early in the morning. They walk together as the crimson hues of sunrise line the sky, Salome with a jar of spices in her hands, the smell wafting around them. They are not silent. How can we accomplish our mission to anoint the body of Jesus, they ask one another, if a stone is in the way?
It is not an ordinary stone. Rather it is megas in Greek — very large — and far too heavy for even the three of them to push together. The stone, in its concreteness, conceals a particular death, the death of the one with whom they have walked and talked, with whom they have seen both miracles and suffering. It is the symbol of the finality of a closed door, the end of a great hope, and the place behind which flesh and bone have breath no more.
The women therefore come with the expectation that they must “do something,” only to find it has already been done. God has not asked the impossible from them. On the contrary, God has made the impossible…. Possible.
Theologian N.T. Wright notes, “The resurrection completes the inauguration of God’s kingdom…it is the decisive event demonstrating that God’s kingdom really has been launched on earth as it is in heaven.”
Easter, is therefore a time for each of us to ask God to remove the stony places of our hearts and replace them with tablets of flesh onto which God can write his law.
Easter, is a time to dismantle pervasive barriers we erect that keep us unresponsive to God’s love can be removed.
Easter, is a time to destroying the large stones of sickness and sin.
Easter, is a time to remove the hard stones of injustice and bigotry.
Easter, is a time to abolish the insipid stones of war and violence.
For God has already rolled the stone away; accomplished it and opened up the way.
~Rev. Joseph C. Alsay, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church
THIS IS NO ORDINARY MEAL - SERMON ON ISAIAH 25:6-9 AND LUKE 24:13-49, REV. JOSEPH C. ALSAY, ST. AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY EPISCOPAL CHURCH
“This is No Ordinary Meal”
Isaiah 25:6-9 & Luke 24:13-49
Every meal prepare with love is a feast.
This is no ordinary thing we do here this evening. We use ordinary things—a building, benches, wine, and bread—but it's no ordinary thing we do together.
This is not an ordinary sack lunch we might pack with us to work or to school and eat at our convenience.
It's not a fast-food fill we take as a break.
It's not grazing our way through the leftovers in the fridge, stuffing our faces as we watch the clock.
Nor is this a frozen dinner, thawed and microwaved mercilessly, stripped of its plastic, and eaten alone in silence in front of the television.
This is no ordinary meal. It won't fill, but it will satisfy something deep within us. It can't last, but it will linger in our souls. It holds no great variety, but it does carry the truth of love.
It’s at Emmaus, that the risen Jesus Christ takes, blesses, breaks and gives the bread to the two disciples. The hands that take the bread on this occasion are the same hands that took the bread to feed the crowd, and to share that last meal with his disciples. With his nail-scarred hands, Jesus takes, blesses, breaks and gives. It what do when---each week following his example we dare to take, bless and give.
That's what we do this evening. We celebrate a feast of love—not so much in the meal, but in the joy of what takes place here. In the promise that the risen One will reveal himself to us in the word spoken, and in the bread broken.
So, come Lord Jesus and be our guest and let these gifts to us be blessed.
This is no ordinary meal.
~Rev. Joseph C. Alsay, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church
WHAT A WONDERFUL CHANGE! - SERMON AND REFLECTIONS ON ACTS 10:34-43 AND MARK 16:1-8 BY REV. JOSEPH C. ALSAY, ST. AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY EPISCOPAL CHURCH
Reverend Joseph C. Alsay, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church
Acts 10:34-43 & Mark 16:1-8
“What a Wonderful Change!”
On first glance, it seems like the gospel of Mark ends rather abruptly! The women have come to the tomb to care for the body of their friend and Lord. They totally expected death. Seeing the stone rolled away, they entered the tomb – they entered into death. They didn’t find Jesus. Instead, they saw a young man dressed in white, who told them not to be amazed, that Jesus had risen. This same stranger told them to tell the disciples and then head to Galilee.
Is it any wonder that terror and amazement seized them?
The Greek word for amazement, “ekstasis,” literally means, “change of place.” And that is what has happened to us and to all of creation because of the resurrection.
There is a gospel song written by Walter Hawkins that simply states,
“A change, a change has come over me.
He changed my life and now I'm free.
He washed away all my sins and he made me whole.
He washed me white as snow.
He changed my life complete and now I sit, I sit at his feet.
To do what must be done I'll work and work until he comes.
A wonderful change has come over me.
A wonderful change has come over me.”
Before Easter, we stood in a place of sin and death. After Easter, we stand in a place of forgiveness and life. Everything is changed.
When I began here at St. Augustine 10 years ago, I was given a plaque that show an old lady speaking at a podium with 6 mics and a bald up first raised in the air. She says, “Change is good. . . as long as I don’t have to do anything different.”
My friends, because of the dynamic and life-changing power of the resurrection, we are not the same. The world is not the same. This new reality of forgiveness, life, and salvation is and should be unsettling. Terror and amazement, indeed!
The world is turned upside down. Or rather right-side up. We have been changed for the better.
~ Fr. Joseph C. Alsay, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church
Various Clergy and members of St. Augustine contribute to authoring the blog on a variety of topics.