Back in the fall of 2023, a new website committee first started meeting at the request of the vestry. The committee was composed of both long-time parishioners and new parishioners. Our current website is about 14 years old, and we wanted a new website that would honor who our community has been, while also representing who our community is now.

The task of this committee was to find a web developer to create the new website, a graphic designer to create the new logo, a photographer to take up-to-date photos of our services, and a videographer to update our welcome video and get new footage. In the midst of this, we wanted to invite the whole parish into this process, so we led two listening sessions and had an online survey to garner feedback. We started working on our new website in the spring of 2024. In the fall of 2024, we brought in our staff to add their invaluable input for their specific ministry areas. Each step was intentional and thoughtful and, as a whole, this process took us almost two years.

Across the board, the feedback we kept getting from you all was how important it is that Epiphany be a welcoming place for everyone. Additionally, Epiphany is an exciting place to be! We are an intentionally multi-generational community, we blend tradition and creativity, and we actively live out our faith by the ways we show up for each other and in our communities.

We wanted these values to show in our visual storytelling throughout our website, in our new logo, and captured in photography and videography. In the summer of 2024, we launched our new logo, which centers the Epiphany star and story and features a pattern that is found throughout our church building, representing the journey of our faith and the “Epiphany moments” along the way that reveal something new about ourselves, God, and each other.

With the new website, we wanted it to act as our first welcome, so we made the website especially with the newcomer in mind. Our new website is easier to navigate and has pages specifically for someone checking out Epiphany for the first time. It is also fully responsive and can be viewed on a laptop, tablet, or cell phone. 


Our new website is also intentionally digitally accessible. Throughout the site, there are features that improve and enhance the experience for all visitors, but especially for anyone with a disability. For example, we’ve added descriptions of all images for anyone who can’t see them, and we chose color combinations that make text easier to read. We wanted to remove any technology barriers from our website that might prevent any visitor from engaging and interacting with our content in a meaningful way. We hope this posture of welcoming and inclusion is reflected in our website, just as it is in the congregation!


Additionally, through our new website, we believe it is much easier for someone to know how to get connected at Epiphany and sign up for various email newsletters. The new website also showcases the beautiful and wonderful ministries that you all do to make Epiphany the loving parish it is.


We plan to launch our new website during the second week of April! On behalf of everyone who participated in this process, we are so excited for you to see it, and I hope it makes you feel proud of this community we have cultivated as we seek to share it with others who might not yet know about us yet.

A special thanks to our website committee, our content writers, vestry, and staff as well as NForm Interactive, our website designer; Channin Fulton, our graphic designer; Korri Crowley, our photographer; Jeremiah Jordan, our videographer; and Dwight Porter, our IT Support.

Website Committee:
Jim Bracciale
Erika Clapp
Kathryn Dominguez 
Kim Haynsworth 
Kate Reynolds
Alex Rodriguez 
Janell Sims
Rev. Janelle  

With gratitude,
Rev. Janelle

After beautiful Ash Wednesday and Lent 1 services, I find myself pondering the regular use of “40 days” in the Bible and in our liturgical calendars. I’m not a biblical scholar, but believe that “Forty” is used in Scripture more than 145 times. Just a few examples: Noah's flood, which lasted 40 days and 40 nights; Moses received the law after spending 40 days on Mount Sinai; Goliath taunted the Israelites for 40 days; Jonah gave Nineveh 40 days to repent.

“Forty" is used to symbolize a time of testing, purification, trial, or probation. Consider our recent celebration of The Presentation of Christ in the Temple, also called The Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary (commemorating Mary's obedience to the Mosaic law by submitting herself to the Temple for the ritual purification 40 days after the birth of a child). Since 542 AD, we have celebrated this feast on the 40th day of Christmastide (40 days after December 24). Or how about “forty” as a transitional period: Jesus remained with his disciples for 40 days after his resurrection before ascending into heaven. We celebrate the Feast of the Ascension on the 40th day of Easter (40 days after the Saturday evening Easter Vigil).

The "forty” we commemorate during this Lenten season is the forty days and forty nights Jesus spent in the desert being tempted by the devil while he fasted and prayed. It was in 601 AD that the current start date of Lent was set. Pope Gregory moved this to 46 days before Easter, and established Ash Wednesday at the same time. This allowed for 40 days of fasting, with six Sundays counted as feast days (when fasting does not apply), for a total of 46 days. This is why our Sundays are labeled “In” rather than “Of” Lent (the First Sunday In Lent), because the Sundays aren’t included in the 40 days. Correct, that means you have permission to eat the chocolate you gave up for Lent on Sundays! Interestingly, even on Lenten Sunday feast days, the "Alleluia” and “Gloria in excelsis” are not sung or said, as the focus remains on the penitential nature of the entire season.

These small tidbits are likely old news to most of you, and there is more that can be said; but, there are Sunday forums for that! In any case, I look forward to working and worshipping with you in the wilderness over these next Lenten weeks (with or without the chocolate),

Jeremy Bruns

On Monday, I will join parishioners Betsy Walsh and Nelia Newell as we travel to Honduras to visit El Hogar to spend time with the Executive Director, Denise Vargas, staff, and the students to see what a renewed partnership might look like going forward. As a parish, this partnership is more than 25 years old, and this marks a new chapter in our relationship with El Hogar. On a more personal level, this is the first time that I am returning to Honduras since I lived there almost 20 years ago. Needless to say, this small trip next week will be charged with many emotions for me as I return to a people that has shaped me in deeper ways than nearly any experience in my life.

It has me reflecting upon the journey that is life. Our lives are shaped by so many things, but nothing is perhaps more impactful than our relationships. The only other thing more formative is the very thing most of us resist (with good reasons): struggle, pain, suffering. When I've asked people about that time, that experience, that moment in life which really has shaped them into who they are—they almost always discuss a time of challenge and struggle. The death of a spouse, the loss of a career, moving away from family, engaging with the suffering of the world. There is nothing like struggle or loss that teaches us about who we are and who we are becoming. I do not wish nor do I seek suffering, but life simply delivers it, and with it, an invitation into becoming. Right now, you may be living something that feels like it will break you, but as the great spiritual traditions teach us—there is another option, which is to be broken open. If you're there, let's talk. Let's live life together here at Epiphany—it's why we have one another, to share ourselves, to carry things together, to be reminded that God is with us through us.

This trip next week will be, for me, a time to return to a place that broke me open in painful and beautiful ways. I don't know what it will all mean for me personally or for us as a parish as we spend time with El Hogar. But, what I do know, is that I am grateful my journey is now part of yours—that we journey together in this life here, as Epiphany.

God bless you this holy season,
Nick

This past Sunday, J2J (Journey to Justice) hosted a panel discussion on immigration justice with Hannah Hafter (Episcopal City Mission), Andrins Renaudin (International Institute of New England), and Nancy Giesel (PAIR Project). This was part two of a three-part series around immigration justice that had been planned as a focus area in the winter/spring. The panelists brought valuable insights from their work as a community organizer, shelter services director, and asylum lawyer. The way the conversation was framed was around resilience and learning about the “why” behind each of our panelists choosing to do the work that they do.

Turns out that each panelist is doing the work they are currently doing because of the relationships they have formed over the years. Nancy even talked about growing up in her home church in Indiana and visiting their sister parish in Mexico where she learned to speak Spanish, which then led to opportunities to form relationships that she wouldn’t have had otherwise. Andrins, an immigrant from Haiti herself, now gets to welcome newly arrived Haitian immigrants in her work as a shelter director. And Hannah, having spent time on the US/Mexico border, was surprised to find that, after moving to Boston, immigration justice became a focus in her work with ECM.

Throughout Scripture, we are reminded of the call of the Christian as one to “welcome the stranger.” This is understood in the context of immigrants and migrants and those who have been pushed out of their homes. Intrinsic within the call to ‘welcome the stranger’ is a call to relationship. We can be quick to want to solve problems and alleviate suffering. But what this panel reminded us is the slow and steady nature of justice work and how it is always in the context of relationship. Relationships take time to develop and cultivate. We had three panelists who are deep in immigration justice work who did not shy away from the realities of what is hard or overwhelming, but also had a deep sense of vocation and calling which led to joy and gratitude for the work they get to do.

One of the questions asked by our moderator, Nelia Newell, was, “How do you keep doing this work?” One of the things that Hannah offered is that, once you find the lane you are supposed to be in, it’s a lot easier to maintain the work.

When it comes to works of justice, mercy, and compassion, we are not expected to fix everything, but find our God-given lane and do that well. I believe each Christian is called to something that helps, in a small way, to make this world a better place and it is the work of the church to help discern that ‘something’, together.

With gratitude,
Rev. Janelle

Between chilling headlines and biting headwinds, it sure can feel like the height of bleak mid (to late) winter. And I confess I am struggling to make sense of the confusion, consternation, and concern that seem to blanket these early days of 2025.

On a recent car ride to Epiphany, my anxious social media doom-scrolling was interrupted by a phone call from a dear clergy friend checking in. Speaking with a wisdom informed by nearly half a century in ministry, he offered his own approach to overcoming the ennui many may be experiencing: “Now is a time to do what we do well well.” Do well what we do well. 

As the conversation wrapped, the car rounded the bend on Church Street, the sturdy Epiphany tower came into view, and I soon bounded into Midweek where I was enveloped by a sudden and striking sense of warmth, joy, and hope.

Epiphany doing well what we do well. Community. 

As I continue on my formation journey toward the priesthood, being a part of Epiphany as your seminarian continues to be a profound blessing and source of inspiration. Through enriching courses at General Theological Seminary, I am learning theology, doctrine, history, studying faith as a noun. At Epiphany, from each of you, I am experiencing what it means to live faith as a verb. 

Epiphany is special, deeply so, uniquely so, importantly so. As I said from the pulpit last fall, in this church community, when we are discouraged, we encourage one another. In defiance of a society that seems to grow cruder and crueler, that brings out the worst in so many, at Epiphany, we bring out the best in each other. Instead of retreating in despair, we move toward each other. That is ours to do; that is what God calls us to do. 

Thank you, Epiphany, for doing so well what you do well – living out the Gospel in community bound together by the blessed ties of faith. Thank you for inviting me to learn from you, with you, and to be a part of this hopeful, hope-filled community. 

See you at church. 

Clayton 
Seminarian

Over the past two weeks, I have received more feedback on my sermons than at any other time of ministry together here. In short, the message is clear: our lives are touched by pain and suffering, both personal and societal, and we are all hungry for, in need of, hope and meaning. Whether it is a medical diagnosis that has turned our world upside down, or a sense that all we thought we knew about this nation, our systems and structures, and our identity as citizens, there is a sense of helplessness and its product, meaninglessness. They are, certainly, the twin dis-eases of our time.

A friend from the other side of the pond sent me a message on WhatsApp, and it is a quote from a book he is reading, Soil and Soul by Alastair Macintosh. I share it with you: "I am often approached by English people who feel confused about their national identity and ask what they can do. I simply suggest that they dig where they stand."

So many have asked, and I ask myself often: What can I do? What can I do in the face of a friend's diagnosis? What can I do in the face of national strife? What can I do in the face of my own helplessness? This answer from Macintosh strikes me as faithful: Dig where you stand. Do not go looking to some far-flung location to find your meaning. Do not seek your identity and purpose somewhere unknown. Start right where you are, with who you are, surrounded by those who are nearby. If we can't dig into ourselves, dig up our meaning with the help of others, or dig down into our Source of faith, hope, and love, then we will certainly not find such things or do such work in some other place. There is nowhere else. We are put right here, with one another, to find our meaning and to know our strength together.

In her poem 'Natural Resources,' Adrienne Rich writes:

My heart is moved by all I cannot save:
so much has been destroyed

I have to cast my lot with those
who age after age, perversely,

with no extraordinary power,
reconstitute the world.

As Jesus teaches us in the Beatitudes: no peoples are more worthy of honor and blessedness than those who, in faith and hope and trust in God, make something beautiful out of a broken world. We cast our lot together.

God bless you and keep this day,
Nick

Last December, Journey to Justice (J2J) hosted a wonderful conversation about the book Rough Sleepers by Tracy Kidder. Rough Sleepers is about Boston’s unhoused community and about Dr. Jim O’Connell, who helped start Boston Health Care for the Homeless. We welcomed our very own parishioner, Dr. Ginger Barrow, as well as one of her colleagues, who both spent many years working for Boston Health Care for the Homeless. It was a lovely conversation, and one of the key takeaways for me was that, when we were talking about people who are unhoused, the energy in the room started to feel overwhelming and sad. And then Ginger reminded us that though we can’t solve homelessness, we can participate in acts that dignify people all the time. She said that even though there were plenty of sad moments in her work, it was also amazing to be present with someone in the moment, look them in the eyes, and care for them. We had two people who spent a considerable amount of time caring for people who are unhoused that reminded us not to despair, but to focus on the things we can do. And one of those things was buying $5 Dunkin’ Donuts gift cards to hand out so that people could get a nice warm meal and have access to a bathroom. Quiet acts of care that can be so dignifying to another’s humanity and personhood.

When we are inundated with distressing, sad, or overwhelming news, the natural response can be to shut down and feel powerless. As Ginger reminded us on that Sunday afternoon, there are always things that we can do. And I believe that is the mark of our Christian faith. Perhaps we cannot solve all the big things, but we can dignify the person right in front of us. (Which sometimes also leads us to work on the big things too.) We can work to build the things that matter like community and respect and love. And there are opportunities every single day to do that.

Will we figure out how to solve all of the complexities and anxieties around immigration? Perhaps not, but we can attend the J2J forum this coming Sunday and hear from a panel of people who are working to dignify the people around them and create systems that bring freedom. Can we completely change our school systems so that our neurodivergent kids can have places where they can flourish? I would love that, but for now, we can gather together as community with our Lighthouse Ministry and work on the skills for resilience and love and care to make Epiphany a place where all our kids can flourish. Can we solve our epidemic of loneliness? For those who feel lonely, that means having the courage to keep showing up until a place feels like home, and that also means that we are to keep welcoming and paying attention to others. Can there be a world where no one is hungry? I would love that. But for now we keep feeding at St. Luke’s, The Dwelling Place, The Malden Warming Center, and handing out our Dunkin’ Donuts gift cards. Do not stop advocating for a better world, but do not let the complexities of our world stop you from loving the human beings around you and remembering the things we can do.

With gratitude,
Rev. Janelle

“Happy are those whose hope is in God. They are like trees planted near streams, rooted in life-giving waters.”
(Jeremiah 17:7-8)

Does that sound familiar? It is the verse that our Stewardship Campaign “Rooted Together” was taken from. I love that this reflects both the fact that we genuinely enjoy being together and that it is in those connections that we draw together from God’s life-giving waters sustain us.

At our Annual Meeting on Sunday, we gathered to look back at what we have done together this past year and to thank the people who have supported, encouraged, and challenged us in our life together as a community. If you haven’t already, take some time to read what our staff and lay leaders wrote for the Annual Report. 

It was also an incredible moment as Rev Nick called us to what it means to be a follower of Jesus in our world. For those who weren't there, I encourage you to read his address. What Nick said was powerful, but equally powerful was the clear sense of ‘yes’ from the room. I am not only grateful for Nick’s wisdom, clarity, and leadership but equally grateful to be on this journey with each of you knowing that we’re not sure what it all means or where it will lead, but we’ll learn together and help each other along the way.

Thank you,
Nelia

"In this place, we will respect all, value all, love all, embrace all, and work for the dignity of every human being in the name of Christ."

Read the Rector's Annual Address, given by the Rev. Nick Myers at Parish of the Epiphany's Annual Meeting on Sunday, January 26, 2025. 

Be merciful, as your Father in heaven is merciful." These words are from Jesus to the disciples. Mercy is at the very heart of God. Mercy is at the heart of our calling towards others. Mercy has the siblings of love and compassion—these are the things of God and the things of Christian moral vision.

The Church must have a vision for this world; as the book of Proverbs says, "without a vision, the people perish." Our witness as the church is always before us in this life. Calling for mercy in this life is not about identity politics, but the politics of our identity as Christians. Our identity as followers of Christ demand certain things of us and to deny this is to have forsaken the narrow gate of which Jesus speaks; it is to deny the cross of Christ. My witness and your witness to Jesus in this life matter, and I want to say: it matters as much today as it ever has in this world.

This Sunday, in my Annual Address, I will speak of three things: 1) the great work and ministry of our parish over the past year; 2) updates about our Building for the Ages Campaign and building improvements; 3) our witness as the church today.

I look forward to being with you on Sunday for a time of celebration and reflection together,

Rev. Nick