This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!
Saturday, January 30, 2021
Please also see news from the Diocese below, including 9am worship with the Bishop at 9am
The Wissahickon Deanery of the Episcopal Diocese of Pennsylvania is offering Sacred Ground: A Film-Based Dialogue Series on Race & Faith in 10 sessions on Mondays from 7 p.m. to 8:30 from March 1 to June 21. The seminar, which will be held bi-weekly on Zoom is free and requires pre-registration.
Sacred Ground is a film- and readings-based dialogue series on race, grounded in faith. Small groups are invited to walk through chapters of America’s history of race and racism, while weaving in threads of family story, economic class, and political and regional identity. This series is open to all, and especially designed to help white people talk with other white people.
Participation requires a commitment to reading articles and viewing videos between sessions. All materials will be accessible via online links. Registration deadline is Feb. 20. Learn more and register here. For more information contact the Rev. Barbara Ballenger, bballenger@
Holy Eucharist (online) at St. Mary's Episcopal Church ~ Sunday, 31 January 2021
Monday, January 25, 2021
Saturday, January 23, 2021
Friday, January 22, 2021
WH Auden ~ The Twelve
Without arms or charm of culture,
Persons of no importance
From an unimportant Province,
They did as the Spirit bid,
Went forth into a joyless world
Of swords and rhetoric
To bring it joy.
When they heard the Word, some demurred, some mocked, some were shocked: but many were stirred and the Word spread. Lives long dead were quickened to life; the sick were healed by the Truth revealed; released into peace from the gin of old sin, men forgot themselves in the glory of the story told by the Twelve.
Then the Dark Lord, adored by this world, perceived the threat of the Light to his might. From his throne he spoke to his own. The loud crowd, the sedate engines of State, were moved by his will to kill. It was done. One by one, they were caught, tortured, and slain.
O Lord, my God,
Though I forsake thee
Forsake me not,
But guide me as I walk
Through the valley of mistrust,
And let the cry of my disbelieving absence
Come unto thee,
Thou who declared unto Moses:
"I shall be there."
Children play about the ancestral graves, for the dead no longer walk.
Excellent still in their splendour are the antique statues: but can do neither good nor evil.
Beautiful still are the starry heavens: but our fate is not written there.
Holy still is speech, but there is no sacred tongue: the Truth may be told in all.
Twelve as the winds and the months are those who taught us these things: envisaging each in an oval glory, let us praise them all with a merry noise.
Words by W.H. Auden