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Posted on Oct 16, 2017

Reflections on the Spirituality and Justice Award from the All Saints MANNA team leaders

Dear friends,


It has taken a bit of time for all that has happened with our MANNA brothers and sisters over the past few weeks to start to sink in.  Having the opportunity to both have All Saints go before the MANNA Leadership Team at their weekly Monday meeting to award the larger group our Spirituality and Justice award …and then having 15 of their Leaders come to All Saints to worship with us last week, receive the award, share some stories and insights into their lives on the streets… It was at once heart-warming, eye-opening, and a bit wonderfully overwhelming.

At our parish luncheon after the service, we were given a number of opportunities to see and hear from MANNA members and members of our parish.  We learned a bit more about our evolving relationship with this remarkable community and the challenges they face.

We were shown a short slide show providing a glimpse at the lives and activities of the MANNA community over last year: writing with the Black Seed Writers’ Group, joining in community at their Sunday Coffeeklatsch, walking to raise funds for various causes that are important to their community, worshiping together, sharing stories, meditating, celebrating with a square dance, a weekend camping trip to VT, helping others with a Thanksgiving Day meal and more.
James Parker, a writer for the Atlantic who provides guidance to the writers’ group, distributed poems written by MANNA writers to some parishioners to read out loud.  To hear MANNA members’ words through the voices of our parishioners was a powerful moment.
We also heard reflections from members of the All Saints Leadership Team. Fran Bancroft, Kathleen O’Connor, Sharon Siwiec, Mary Urban Keary and Ginny spoke a bit about the transforming experience for us all working with the MANNA community.  We are all very grateful for the way in which the men and women of MANNA have welcomed us, helped us, shared their stories and offered us a very different picture of men and women who are homeless than what we had experienced in our lives.
Next on were the MANNA speakers: Bryant, who makes winter cloaks, hats and scarves to sell to his colleagues, a man on the street for many years, and now has a room, but who still prefers on many nights to sleep “rough” out with his buddies; Mikel, who described the challenges of staying dry, finding food, searching for a place to sleep; and Richard, who shared his thoughts on what passers by might best do when they walk by a person on the street who is asking for money. He said that offering money is often counterproductive.

He mentioned that what is needed most are white socks, Charlie cards, hand warmers, and McDonald’s cards (which will allow a person to use the facilities, get warm and have a bite to eat).  He also offered that it would be helpful if we raised our voices to the State House to continue their efforts toward providing additional shelter.
We give thanks to our parish in the way that the MANNA community was welcomed and valued on the award Sunday,  to the Mission and Outreach Committee and all who helped in greeting, setting up, preparing our meal and clean up.  We continue to have much to learn and look forward to another year of exploration and growth.
Our next MANNA Monday lunch will be the Monday after Thanksgiving, on Nov. 27.  We hope you will join in in whatever way that may fit.  There are many ways to give thanks.
Ginny, Fran, Kathleen, Sharon and Mary
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Posted on Oct 15, 2017

You are invited—sermon for 15 October 2017

You are invited


Photo Credit: misterlevel Flickr via Compfight cc

October 15, Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 23):

Exodus 32:1-14 & Psalm 106:1-6,19-23 
Philippians 4:1-9Matthew 22:1-14

Draft text of the homily, it may vary considerably from the recorded version. Please pardon any typos, and do not cite without permission.

Did you get it?

Your invitation to the banquet?

You got it, right? We’ve all been invited…are you going?

Oh, do you have other things to do?

More important things?


Well…see ya.

This is a tough parable. I guess what’s clear is that there really is nothing more important than attending this particular dinner party. That’s true in all the versions of this parable—because there are others. They show up in Luke and the Gospel of Thomas—but those have the king sending his slaves out to bring whomever they can find to the party. Those are easier to understand. This invitation is something that we need to pay attention to, and it’s an invitation that is open and available to all. But Matthew has turned a parable (which are generally pretty open ended) into an allegory (which are way more specific). Matthew adds a whole bunch of detail—the destruction of the city—and invents this other character—this poor speechless guy who gets roughed up and tossed out for a reason that’s difficult to fathom.

Matthew’s allegory would have made much more sense had we just lived through the destruction of Jerusalem in the year 70. If we were the first people hearing this, we would have understood that we are ones who have brought into the banquet after the troops had literally destroyed the city. We also would have understood this man without wedding robes as being one of those people who shows up but doesn’t actually do anything. 2000 years later, we just see some poor schlub who didn’t get the memo about the dress code, but in the first century, we might have understood the wedding robes as an allegory for “putting on Christ”—for really living out the Gospel. And we would have noticed that he’s also speechless—he doesn’t even give lip-service to the faith—we’re not supposed to do that. Whether we’re in the first century or the twenty-first century, we’re supposed to proclaim by word and deed the Good News of God in Christ. In other words, unlike this guy, we’re supposed walk the walk…and talk the talk…We are to live as Christ’s heart, and hands, and feet, and voice in the world…We’re to continue issuing this invitation to everyone.

Recently you should have received another invitation; an invitation to make a pledged financial commitment to All Saints next year. And as I wondered how I was going to spin this parable into a stewardship sermon, I thought: The core of this parable—not the allegory, but the parable—is this command “to go out and invite everyone.” Everyone. Good. Bad. Deserving. Underserving. Believers. Doubters…doesn’t matter. Everyone. And I remembered a quote attributed to Archbishop William Temple: “The Church is the only institution that exists primarily for the benefit of those who are not its members.”

What we do here…all that we do here—of course we all derive great benefit from it—or I hope we do—but what we do here, at this banquet, is not only for our benefit…it’s for the benefit of those who are not here…everyone else.

And then we buried a beloved member of the parish yesterday, I was thinking about all of the hundred and thousands of people that his life touched and changed. And because he was a teacher, I started thinking about all of the other teachers here…and all the students that the professors and teachers and day care workers among us have taught over the years…all of the clients that the lawyers here have helped, all of the patients seen by all of the doctors and nurses and physical therapists, and caregivers here…all of the customers, and co-workers, the bosses, and shopkeepers, and neighbors, and friends, the generations of extended families who have never set foot inside this building, but have nevertheless been touched and influenced by it because of your presence here. Because you have put on Christ and carry that Good News into the world…every day, through your lives and actions in the world.

And then reading through the stewardship materials—the beautiful letter, and the really cool infographic—I thought about all of people who have been involved in recovery programs here…all of the people who have found community and artistic expression through participation in one of the choral and arts groups that meet here. The young artists who have gotten a start here…the clergy and lay ministers that have been raised up here…I thought of the Korean students who have found a home away from home, and the families who have found a nurturing place for their children here. I thought about all of the people at MANNA and Common Cathedral, and in Honduras, and Tanzania, and all the other places throughout the world where people from this congregation have traveled over the years…and I thought the individuals who occasionally drift in during the week because life has just gotten to be just a little too much, and they just need to sit in the peace and quiet of this space.

And as I imagined all of these connections rippling out from here I thought:

That’s quite a banquet.

That’s quite a story.

To be part of that?

That’s not an invitation I’m going to turn down. And I hope you don’t either.

I want to be a part of that, not just because of what I get out of it, but because of what everyone else gets out of it.

A pledge makes it possible for us to continue extending that invitation…to everyone…it means that those students, and clients, and families, and friends, and artists, and patients…and people in recovery…and people halfway across the world, and people just needing some place to rest can all be reminded that there is something good, and beautiful, and holy at the center of it all…That’s not an invitation I’m going to turn down, because I want everyone—especially those who aren’t here—to continue having access to this glorious, life-changing, life-affirming banquet.


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Posted on Sep 25, 2017

Where’s the justice in that?—sermon for 24 September 2017

Where’s the justice in that?


Sept. 24, Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 20):

Exodus 16:2-15 & Psalm 105:1-6,37-45
Philippians 1:21-30Matthew 20:1-16

Sermon preached by Alan McLellan – September 24, 2017

“That is so unjust!”  I don’t know about you, but that’s my reaction to a lot of things that happen in the world.  It’s also my reaction to the parable in today’s Gospel: A landowner hires people to work in his vineyard – and the ones hired at the beginning of the day are given a day’s wages. The ones who are hired at midday are given a day’s wages, and the ones hired close to the end of the day are given….a day’s wages!  Where’s the justice in that?  It’s pretty frustrating: you look to Jesus for a parable to confirm your sense of fairness, your sense of what’s right, and he comes up with something like that!

Well, in the men’s book group, we turned to the 19th century Russian novelist Dostoevsky and I must say we didn’t fare much better. We’ve been reading his “Crime and Punishment”. And it’s hard to believe that the criminal in that story gets the punishment he deserves either.

Some of the most enjoyable conversations I’ve had the privilege to be part of the last few years have taken place here at All Saints, as part of the Men’s book group. It’s just one of several opportunities around the Parish (including a women’s book group!) for folks to talk about faith and life, and I highly recommend you get involved in one of them.  This question about justice is at the heart of “Crime and Punishment”.  The central figure of the story is Raskolnikov, a young law student, and one of the most striking things about the book is the way we are drawn to identify with this character. Raskolnikov is full of the idealism of youth, but short on the money he needs to finish his studies.  He’s managed to get himself into debt to a pawnbroker -an old woman he considers a worthless crone. Her only desire is to get money out of her borrowers so she can die wealthy and leave everything to a monastery where the monks will pray for her soul.  And there’s the justice question again: “Where’s the justice in that?”.  So Raskolnikov decides he’s going to take matters into his own hands.  He has come to believe that certain people (such as himself) are superior. They have the right to commit crimes – even murder if necessary – for the greater good.  So he comes up with a scheme to set things right.  He’ll kill the old woman, take her money and use it to further his studies and go on to make the world a better place.  (This is where the reader starts to feel distinctly uncomfortable – because we’re identifying with this guy, and he’s about to murder a defenceless old woman!).  But according to Raskolnikov, it’s in the interests of justice!

We might say that he stands with the laborers who were hired first in today’s Gospel story.  “What’s up with this?” they say.  “These people weren’t here all day, working in the hot sun!  How could this possibly be just?”

We know that we are called to stand up to injustice. I don’t think Jesus is saying that we should just accept it.  He is not saying that we should just accept it when women are paid less for doing the same work as men, or when the poor suffer disproportionately from the effects of natural disasters, or when according to a 2014 study, almost one-third of Brookline residents are economically insecure Where’s the justice in that?  

So what’s up with this parable of the laborers in the vineyard?  What is Jesus trying to tell us about justice?  I think we get a really good hint from Dostoevsky in “Crime and Punishment.”  Because our crazy young man, Raskolnikov, actually does follow through on his plan to kill the old woman and take her money. He even kills her handicapped sister who just happens to get in the way.  But, although he takes her money, he doesn’t actually follow through on using it for good as he had planned -because deep down he really knows how dreadful – how despicable his act really was.  

And here’s where Dostoevsky comes up with a twist in the story that illustrates how God’s justice works so much differently than ours.  

At this point I have to say that there are many ways to interpret this amazing novel, but I’ve just latched on to one.  And many colorful and interesting characters…. I don’t have time to describe to you this morning, but several of them show compassion to this young man even in the face of rejection, and even once they know about his evil deed.

So here’s the twist:  There’s a young woman he gets to know. Sonya is her name – and Sonya’s father is a drunk – a colorful character, but he drank his family’s livelihood away, and left them destitute.  Sonya’s solution for the family’s problem is to “get up, put on her kerchief and pelisse (a pelisse is a beautiful fur-lined coat), and go out.  And sometime after 8 she came back with 30 silver roubles”  (And that’s a lot of money) So Sonya has become a prostitute so that her sick mother and her younger brothers and sisters can live.

And perhaps because she is shunned by the world, Raskolnikov feels he can confide in her.  Ironically, even though she’s living the life of a prostitute, theirs is a completely chaste relationship.  Raskolnikov still clings to the idea that the deed he has done was all for the good.  But he is tormented by what he has done.  He confesses his crime to Sonya, and she convinces him to go to the police detective (who has suspected him for some time by this point) and to tell him everything.  

And off Raskolnikov goes to Siberia, to serve his punishment – 8 years of penal servitude.  But he doesn’t go alone.  Sonya, who has loved him constantly and sacrificially throughout this ordeal, loves him still, and follows him to Siberia to be with him there.  

So here we have young man whose rational world view leads him to commit a grotesque, horrible crime.  He wants to correct a perceived injustice – this pawnbroker is a blot – a stain on society, and the idea is that by eliminating her he can make the world a better place.  But through a series of events that grows to a climax, eventually he comes to realize the enormity of his crime, confesses — and then finally, at the very end, he begins his long journey to redemption.  

So now, the more I think about this, the more I am struck by the image in the parable, of the laborers coming in from the vineyard, dusty and sweaty after working all day in the scorching heat.   They haven’t done anything wrong – they didn’t murder anybody to try to obtain justice – they just worked a full shift, and they’re only looking for fairness.  They have a right to their wages.

But in God’s kingdom, the laborers who just showed up at the end of the day also have that right.

And all the generous and loving characters in “Crime and Punishment”, who suffer immense hardship themselves, but shower kindness on this young student, Raskolnikov, have a claim on the grace of God.  And somehow, in God’s kingdom, so does Raskolnikov, the criminal—the one who comes late, and very reluctantly—nevertheless, he too receives a share of grace in God’s kingdom.

And so do we.  Because the grace of God, as the parable today points out, does not depend on the things we do to earn it.  It only depends on us coming to him, confessing everything, and being welcomed to his table.

So whatever crazy directions your life has taken – whatever it is that you have weighing on you:  welcome! Eat the manna, drink the wine, and accept the grace of God, freely given, whether you come early or late.


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Posted on Sep 17, 2017

Learning a dialect of grace—sermon for 17 September 2017

Learning a dialect of grace


Photo Credit: thedailyenglishshow Flickr via Compfight cc

Sept. 17, Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 19):

Exodus 14:19-31 & Psalm 114
Romans 14:1-12Matthew 18:21-35

Draft text of the homily, it may vary considerably from the recorded version. Please pardon any typos, and do not cite without permission.

Picture this.

A child on a skateboard. In the living room. As the skateboard goes out from under the kid, the child flies into a table, and the table and everything on it comes crashing to the floor. Before you can even muster an outraged look, the words come flying out of the kid’s mouth… “I didn’t mean to!”

That’s one of the images from a great kids book, David Gets In Trouble, by David Shannon…David Shannon has several books about David who continues to get into trouble, his parents always speak in some variation of “no!” The kid always offers some excuse. Until the last page when there is always reconciliation. Shannon explains in the author’s note “When his [parent] says ‘no’ it’s because [they] worry about his safety, [they] want him to grow up to be a good person. Deep down, [they’re] really saying, “I love you.” But when David says ‘no,’ it usually means, “I don’t want to get into trouble.”

“I didn’t mean to,”—even as an adult—is often code for “I don’t want to get into trouble.” Adults just have more clever ways of saying it. We’ve all heard those non-apology apologies. “If anyone was offended by my remarks, I’m apologize. I assure you it was not my intent to offend.” That’s just a grown-up way of saying, “I didn’t mean to.” “I don’t want to get in trouble”

Of course we don’t want to get into trouble, and last week we heard about what to do when we do get into trouble…when we didn’t mean to…but did anyway. This week we get the follow up…that we are to forgive.

Forgiveness is tricky to begin with. It’s hard to forgive people sometimes. It takes lots and lots of practice. And it’s even harder when we’re not clear about what we did…or when our intentions—whether we meant to or not—gets thrown into the mix.

How many times in your life have you had a conversation that includes a phrase like this “I’m sure she meant well, but…” “He’s such a nice guy, I’m sure he would never do anything to intentionally hurt someone…” Shifting the focus from what happened, to what someone intended—actually short-circuits the process of forgiveness because when we get locked into thinking about what someone meant, we often stop being truthful about the impact of behavior. And really, it’s the impact not the intent that matters.

Most of us don’t intend to say something hurtful, or do something mean. But we do.  I don’t know anyone who wants to be like this guy in today’s parable…(We get that we’re not supposed to be like the guy in today’s parable, right?). OK maybe there are some who intentionally set out to make life miserable for others…but generally we get we’re not supposed to do that… we’re not trying to harm anybody, we’re just trying to get through our day…trying to take care of ourselves, or our family, or get the job done, and sure we’re tired, and cranky, and stressed out, and we don’t mean to act like that, but we do. And we also understand that we’re not supposed to make up excuses  for ourselves or others…but we do that too, and that trips us up.

“I’m sure they didn’t mean to.”

The sad fact is, that even after centuries and centuries of teaching and preaching about forgiveness, we’re still not very good at it. In part, I believe, because we continue to get hung up on intention…on whether someone meant to do it or not. This is particularly true for those of us raised in a North American culture, and especially our church culture—which really values being “nice” over being truthful. Now, there’s nothing wrong with being nice, per se unless it short-circuits real healing and forgiveness. And being truthful isn’t the same as being a bully.

Learning how to do this—learning to apologize (or to use churchier word) to confess…and learning how to forgive is like learning a new language…and the language of confession and forgiveness is still pretty foreign to us.

So I’m going to give you a very short tutorial on how to apologize. [The Gottman Institute is great resource]

Ideally, this is done in a situation like Jesus outlined last week. “If someone sins against you go and point it out when the two of you are alone.”

You’ve done something and someone lets you know it, and the two of you go off (and Jesus is there). First off: Swallow that impulse to say “I didn’t mean to.” Instead, try saying to yourself, “I didn’t mean to do it AND I did do it.” Now what?

Next: acknowledge the reality of the hurt—but, “I’m sorry you’re upset” is not an apology…neither is “I’m sorry you feel that way,” “I’m sorry I was rude.” or “I’m sorry I offended you,” that’s a start to an apology.

Be specific about it and take ownership of your own feelings and actions.

Don’t add an excuse…”I’m sorry I was rude, but I was really irritated,” means “I’m not really sorry, I’m just irritated” or I might be sorry, but I really don’t want to get in trouble… You could try flipping it around and changing the “but” to “and”—I’m really irritated, and I took it out on you. That was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Now, here comes the really tricky part: Ask for forgiveness. “I’m sorry I was rude.” I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.” Those great beginnings but they’re just statements. They invite no response. Adding, “Will you forgive me?” is a humble request that can build a relationship. Here’s the thing. And this is crucial…When you ask for forgiveness. You have to wait for a response. You can’t expect it. Nor can you expect the other to also apologize. So, “I’m sorry I broke the lamp.” “I’m sorry I was rude and interrupted. Will you forgive me?” Period. It’s up to the other person to decide how and when they will respond. Depending on the level of hurt, be prepared for them to say “I need some time. I’m not there right now.” As this parable shows in pretty graphic detail, we are never owed forgiveness. That’s why it’s grace and that’s why we should always be grateful when we do receive it.

The final step…attempt to make a repair. “I’m sorry I did X. Will you forgive me?” Wait… “Is there anything I can do to make this right?” And if there is do it.

It’s hard I know. I get this wrong every day. Learning how to really recognize our impact in the world…learning how to really acknowledge all of the things done and the things undone…both positive and negative…learning how to confess, and apologize, and ask for and receive forgiveness…it really is like learning a foreign language…and how much and often do you have to practice in order to learn a foreign language? Every day? Not just seven times, but seventy-seven times? Maybe even seventy times seven times…but imagine the healing that God could bring about if we all became fluent in this dialect of grace.


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Posted on Sep 10, 2017

Shared by all—sermon for 10 September 2017

Shared by all


Last Supper in Letter ‘C’, Don Silvestro dei Gherarducci, c.1395

Sept. 10, Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 18):

Exodus 12:1-14 & Psalm 149
Romans 13:8-14Matthew 18:15-20 

Draft text of the homily, it may vary considerably from the recorded version. Please pardon any typos, and do not cite without permission.

“Wherever two or three are gathered…”

That’s it. That’s all it takes. Just two or three (and Jesus in the midst…or Christ, or God in the midst…or the Divine presence…a higher power…however you define that mysterious and Holy reality). But that’s it…just two or three of us…and the Eternal Living Sacred. And a community is formed. From such small seeds…

This section of Matthew (that we sort of drop into the middle of here—that Gospel was like walking into the middle of a pretty intense conversation, wasn’t it?) Well, that conversation is all about community…It’s all about how we as disciples are supposed to get along with one another…how we are to live in community.

How we are to live in common.

Notice anything about those words? Community…common…communion…those words are all related…and all have the same root which literally means “shared by all” Which got me thinking…what is it that is shared by all? Not just by the people in this room…but by everyone? What do I have “in common” with you? What do we share with everyone else?

The specifics of this conversation Jesus is having with the disciples today give us a clue…

I recently finished reading Waking Up White, by Debby Irving (I commend it),  and in it she tells a story of a school meeting where parents were asked to write down on a piece of paper “something that weighed on them daily but that they would not be comfortable sharing publicly within the school community.” The pieces of paper were then collected, passed back out at random, and read out (so the comments were completely anonymous). What do you imagine was written on those cards? What would you write, if you were asked: what is something that weighs on you daily, but you wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing in public?”

Maybe some of you remember the video for the REM song “Everybody Hurts” where the camera pans over a group of people and their inner thoughts are shown on the screen. That’s what was on the cards. That’s what this exercise revealed.

“I’m worried about money.” “I feel too old to change careers and am unhappy with the one I’m in.” “I struggle with an eating disorder.” “My friend drinks too much. I’m afraid, and I don’t know what to do.” “I think I’m about to lose my job.” “I feel like I’m a terrible (friend, parent, child, fill in the blank).” “How am I going to manage this?”

No matter what our social status is. No matter what our stage in life. The one thing we all share is that we are broken…we hurt. We have good days and bad days…we all have worries…and we can all feel pretty powerless about any number of things that are happening in the world and in our lives. And we’re all trapped in certain ways of thinking and behaving…certain ways of interacting with those around us…And the reason Jesus gives us these very simple, and very good, steps for addressing hurts and wrongs…is that he knows that we’re going to need them.

He knows this about us. We’re hurt…and we are going to react out of that hurt place…we’re going to do things wrong. We are going to hurt one another…sometimes maliciously…but much maybe much more often inadvertently…without meaning to…maybe without even knowing that we’re doing it. We’re all going to be hurt, by things others have done, by things we have done, and by things left undone.

What we have in common…the one thing that is truly shared by all…is that everybody hurts.

And All Saints is a place where we can show that hurt—that common and shared weakness—to God. Where we can risk…giving it over to God….and where we can start to find some healing…and some hope.

Here we can risk being open (and it only takes a tiny opening) for God to get in and begin to work. That’s why we say that we all participate in the service…because even if you think you’re not doing anything…you think you’re just sitting and listening to me or to a hymn or an anthem…just settling into the quiet spaces we try to build in…you are actually participating if you allow yourself to be open (just a bit or quite a lot) to the transformative and healing power of God.

One of the thin spaces where I never fail to feel that divine presence slip into the cracks in my soul is in the simple act of receiving Communion. Opening and reaching out my hands…indicating that I am in need…that I can’t do this all by myself…that I lack something…a gift…that someone else has…and that’s all it takes…just that one, small gesture…for God to swoop in and fill that void…to feed that emptiness…to give me with the only thing that will fill that God-shaped hole in my heart. That can happen during Communion, or during an anthem, or a hymn, or at any time, really…any time you allow that crack in your soul to appear…”that’s how the light gets in.”

It doesn’t take much. Just a crack. Just two or three…and God.

It’s great to see many familiar faces…It’s wonderful to see a number of new faces. As we’re all welcomed into this new academic year…I think it’s worth reminding all of us that this is a place where you don’t have to be perfect. We will try our best to be open and inclusive, and welcoming of all, but we’ll get it wrong sometimes. We’ll try our best to value you more for who you are than for what you do…we’ll try to be clear that you are treasured for the gifts you bring to share more than anything you have or have not been able to accomplish in this life. We won’t always get it right. And when that happens, we have this really great process that Jesus outlines for restoring right relationship.

And as we continue this journey together, I’d encourage you to think about where else in your life is there a place like this? A place that takes seriously the problems and the reality of the world, and also offers sustenance and hope to carry on? A place where if you risk being just a little bit vulnerable with two or three others you’ll begin to discover that not only that’s is where your greatest strength lies, but also that just being a little bit open, and humble, there’s no limit to the transformations (in you and the world) that God can bring about.



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Posted on Sep 6, 2017

Parish Quiet Day on 16 September

The Daughters of the King will be hosting a Quiet Day of Prayer and Reflection on Saturday, 16 September 2017, from 9:00 am to 1:00 pm. Come encounter many different ways to pray, whether you stay for 20 minutes or four hours. The sanctuary will be open with multiple self-service prayer stations, including rosaries, journaling, and icons. Group prayer activities will take place in the Guild Room

9:00 am — Morning Prayer
10:00 am — Lectio Divina
11:00 am — Praying with the Body
12:00 pm — Centering Prayer
1:00 pm — Noonday Prayer

The labyrinth will be available in the dining room from 11am to 1pm. Also, there will be an opportunity to practice prayer in daily activity, as well as provide a community service, in helping chop chicken in the kitchen at 10am in preparation for the Manna meal service. DOK members will be available throughout the Quiet Day to assist with prayer stations and to pray with you individually if you wish. If you have any questions, please contact Monica Burden.

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