"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

The Merriam-Webster dictionary describes charity as "generosity and helpfulness especially toward the needy or suffering" and "aid given to those in need." Charity is often a response to a need that is not met due to unjust systems. And while Journey to Justice (J2J) grapples with how to change unjust systems, we also grapple with how best to engage in charity work. Often, charitable or service opportunities involve well-meaning people who swoop in from another community, give a few hours of their time, then head home and feel good about what they just did without getting to know the community or why what they did was needed. J2J yearns for a different model — a way to be in partnership with an organization and in relationship with its people, a way to act with dignity and respect for all (our Baptismal Covenant has a few things to say about this!), a way to partner with, not do for, others.

For about 15 years, Epiphany has served breakfast and lunch at St. Luke’s-San Lucas Episcopal Church’s Community Dining program one Saturday per month. In recent years, our participation there has been challenging, more “doing for” than “partnering with.” We came in, made our regular meal, dealt with challenges as best we could, cleaned up, and left. There was little time to form any real connections.

This fall, we were thrilled to hear that Father Edgar wanted to hire a chef/kitchen manager to coordinate the meal prep and the partner church volunteers. With some seed funding from our J2J budget, Chef David was hired, and he is fantastic! He plans culturally familiar menus, oversees the cooking, troubleshoots, and exudes joy. Because he speaks Spanish, we are able to interact more fully with the guests and better meet their needs. Under his direction, we are able to show up, fit into his plan, and do what is asked of us. With less stress, we have time to get to know David, the dining guests, and members of the St. Luke’s community. This new role has enabled us to be in partnership with St. Luke’s in ways that are (I hope) mutually beneficial.

It was a joy for me to arrive at St. Luke’s on the Saturday before Christmas and be greeted by the wonderful aroma of roasting Jamaican jerk chicken and the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. If you would like to join the joy, we will be at St. Luke’s this Saturday! Click here to sign up, or contact Anne Whitson for more information.

Betsy Walsh
J2J Co-leader

I couldn't find an open exercise machine on January 2nd at the gym. Today, only a week later, I had the pick of the litter. Now, that's not to say the place wasn't still hopping, but it has been noticeably quieter even after the new year's deluge of well-intentioned upstarts. There is no judgment from me on this, I'm as keen as the next person to start things off right, to make a plan, to have some resolutions on the table. And, I can't help but notice this is who we are as people. While the world might encourage us to seek only the perfect or the pure (and sadly, the Church does this often too), we are all about a long faithfulness in the same direction. That's what our trying to follow Jesus is all about in this life—just trying, moving in the same direction, over a lifetime. No saint is writing this, but I can say that life is funny in that progress, for most of us, is not a straight line, but neither is it happenstance. 

So, this New Year, all I've got, is the same old me. But, I can try again at some familiar things—I've recently found a new spiritual director, something I've always had, but this is a completely new person and I feel a bit like I'm starting all over. I could be frustrated by this, or simply realize, this is not a step backward, just maybe to the side, for another view of things. As we move into this new year, with change ahead of us as a nation and people, I'd encourage you to take this time to look around right where you are in life and begin again with what is at hand, in your hands, or holding you. Continue on a long faithfulness in the same direction. 

This Sunday, you'll have lots of opportunity to do that here at Epiphany. After the 10:00 am, I'd invite you to join J2J in the UPH as we explore, learning together, and wonder about how we, as the church, can be faithful amidst the pressures and realities of immigration in this country. Or, join the first of a three part series entitled Stand by Me in Hadley Hall on making hard decisions at the end of life and how we can support loved ones and ourselves in this faithfulness. And, if you're a mother of young ones, perhaps now is the time to build some community with others, as our Moms of Young Children Group meets in the Rector's study for an informal luncheon. There is so much going on—much of it familiar, all of it close to home, right where we are. Come, join in, let's be our same old selves, in new ways, and together.

See you Sunday,
Nick

Dear community,

Happy New Year, but moreover, Happy 9th Day of Christmas! 

Yes indeed, we mark 12 days of Christmas here, all the way from the 25th until the Feast of Epiphany (our namesake) when we remember the arrival of the magi from the East, who followed the star to find and worship the newborn King. 

You may–reasonably, I think–be feeling “done” with Christmas. I personally have spent the last week with my head deep in book, or napping, or celebrating, or generally feeling full of cookies and confused about what day it is. Today the kids are back to school, we’re back to work, and normal winter days stretch ahead of us. And yet: We have four more days of Christmas. What are we supposed to do with those?

Do you ever look at the stained glass windows and the tapestries above the high altar, at the very front of the sanctuary? Really, really look? The story of Christmas–from the prophets foretelling the birth of a new kind of king, a messiah, a savior–all the way through baby Jesus’s presentation in the temple; these moments are in front of us every time we worship. We don’t put those up for Advent and Christmas. This story of God’s incarnation is literally before us all year. 

I pointed these images out to our pageant participants, and we wondered together. I wonder why we chose this story for our window?  I wonder, which piece of the story is the most important? I wonder what Mary "pondered in her heart," and I wonder what will you ponder in your heart, as you notice these images before you all year long? 

Merry Christmas,
Bryn

Merry Christmas!

We are officially in the in-between times, that liminal space between Christmas and New Years. For those of us who were there, it was wonderful to be together for Christmas Eve as well as our Christmas Day service!

I wrote about this last year, and I am going to write about it again. I find this part of the year to be the perfect time to intentionally reflect on the year that has almost just passed. If we aren’t careful, the years will all blur together, and we might miss out on some of the learning if there isn’t time to reflect. So I invite you to take out a pen and paper, or just sit on your couch and listen to some music and truly think back on the year. What is helpful for jogging my memory is looking back on my phone at all the photos I took throughout the year. There is something sacred about choosing to remember.

Here are some questions to ponder:

• What were some of my favorite moments this year? Why were they my favorite?
• What places did I visit? What people did I make time for this year?
• What losses did I experience this year? What was hard?
• When was a time that I felt most creative or most alive?
• What books did I read? What movies, shows, or music spoke to me this year?
• When was a time that I felt close to God?
• What was my favorite thing about being a part of Epiphany this year?

Blessings to you as you reflect and remember!

With gratitude,
Rev. Janelle

On Sunday past, we gathered for what I consider the most glorious service of Lessons and Carols we have done together. If you were there, then you know the deep beauty and power of sound and song holding us, finding ourselves in the story of God's love told through the ancient stories of the Bible. One particular anthem took my breath away, and I share the lyrics with you here. The anthem, "Come, Renew Us" was written by Eleanor Daley, using the words of Anglican priest and poet, David Adam. The piece was commissioned by Christ Church, Cambridge, MA for the 250th anniversary of the dedication of their church—so, this wonderful piece has a close connection to us all, here in our diocese. 

Come, Lord, come to us, enter our darkness with your light.
Fill our emptiness with your presence.
Come, refresh, restore, renew us.
   In our sadness, come as joy,
   In our troubles, come as peace,
   In our fearfulness, come as hope,
   In our darkness, come as light,
   In our frailty, come as strength,
   In our loneliness, come as love.
Come, refresh, restore, renew us.

David Adam (1936-2020)

These words from David Adam are the words of a praying heart. They speak of the Christmas joy and promise we celebrate in the coming days: God is Emmanuel, God with us, God come to us. We often think of Christmas as the birthday of Jesus the Christ, born in Bethlehem—and this is right. But, like every promise of God and every high holy day, what we celebrate here and now is not simply what was, but what is, and is to come: God, come near to us, "as joy..as peace..as hope..as light..as strength..as love." This Christmas, wherever and with whomever you find yourself, I pray that these words will be yours not only in hope, but in truth. Amidst the light and sounds, may the deepest and most desired gift be the knowledge and truth of God with you and in this, by the tether of the Spirit, the knowing that we are together, always. 

Advent blessings to you this day, in hope, and waiting,
Nick

We’re almost there, folks! It’s mid-December, and if you are like me, you aren’t anywhere near midway through that Christmas preparation to-do list. Presents remain unordered, cards remain unsent, and for some of us, sermons remain unwritten. It seems everything is speeding up before it will slow down. But I guess ‘tis the season.

While Advent is supposed to be a season of reflection and repentance, the reality is that it can be a season of rushing and running. So, I am particularly grateful for the chance this Sunday to step off the hamster wheel for a holy moment, in a holy place as our choir leads us in a service of Lessons and Carols. 

For me, Lessons and Carols is the most wonderful moment in the most wonderful time of year. How blessed we are to have such a fine intergenerational music ministry at Epiphany, with singers from ages eight to eighty. What a gift. 

There is just something special about music’s power to stir the soul, especially around Christmas. With this beautifully Anglican service, we have an invitation to let the music convey a sense of God’s presence to us, among us, and within us. 

For over three decades, Stephen Cleobury led the King’s College Cambridge choir, famous throughout the world for its annual Lessons and Carols service. When he died in 2019, The Economist's obituary of Cleobury reflected on God’s mystical presence in music:

He made sure the choir did not lose its otherworldly sound. He treasured the thought that anyone who heard it might find peace and consolation. For behind music … lay something wondrous and beautiful that could be touched. Over the years Cleobury felt increasingly uncertain what to call it. But he found himself getting keener on the idea of the Holy Spirit, something around in the air and in the silences between the notes, as the choir sang.

So, come all ye busy, all ye stressed, to our beautiful sanctuary on Sunday and allow the music and the Holy Spirit to wash over you.

Clayton McCleskey

Last year I made it a goal to find a way to serve with my children, Miles (12) and Josie (9), in a community outside of our comfort zone. I was primarily focused on trying to give them a little perspective on how privileged our lives are while showing love for our neighbors like Jesus teaches. However, the real lesson we learned was about the importance of community and how we can show love to the people around us. We found that it’s not about privileged vs. not privileged. It’s about connecting with our neighbors and remembering that we are all God’s children.

We signed up to serve dinner at The Dwelling Place in Woburn and were happy to see that there are jobs for everyone — putting out food donated by grocery stores, filling individual to-go containers with that evening’s dinner, handing out dinners, making coffees for guests, microwaving meals for guests who decide to stay there to eat, and chatting with the guests.  

We found a welcoming sense of community, with many regular guests for whom the free meal is a big help in their day-to-day lives. Josie described it as, “making new friends even if they’re a little older than you.” Miles said it makes him feel “happy to see people eating when they may not have a lot of food.”

We’ve served dinner as a family a few times now, and each time we come away feeling like we’ve connected with at least a few people who we wouldn’t have met otherwise and played a small role in doing something good for the community around us. While I do think the experience has provided perspective, I think the bigger impact has been in emphasizing the importance of community. At The Dwelling Place, it’s clear that many of the guests are eager to share a smile or a joke and that providing a meal and sharing in these interactions is a very tangible way that we can love our neighbors as ourselves.

I’m so grateful to Rev. Janelle and the Journey to Justice team for organizing the wide range of volunteer opportunities that we have access to at Epiphany. They make it easy for us to connect with the community around us and serve our neighbors without having to do a lot of research or legwork. In this Advent season, it’s another reminder that we are very blessed.

Annie Bing 

This Sunday, we hear St. Paul's words to the church in his first letter to the Thessalonians: "How can we thank God enough for you...?"

Immediately, I thought of you. How can we thank God enough for you? How can we thank God enough for one another?

As we enter this holiday season, and pause this week to be mindful of all those things for which we give thanks, I want you to know that I am thankful for you. If you've ever received a gift that you didn't even know you wanted, or have been the recipient of another's truthful and unexpected forgiveness, or if your breath has been taken away by the beauty of a sunset across the water, or held the soft body of a newborn baby, then you know the almost instinctual response of: "Thank you, thank you, thank you." And, that feeling of, "I'm not sure what else to say!?" Thank you is a complete sentence, and it is a whole feeling. Being the rector of Epiphany affords me many moments of deep gratitude for you. We simply would not be who we are without you. I mean this with every fiber of my being and it's why Paul's simple words this week strike me. Because in a world so fraught with worry or despair, it is you, friends, our life here at Epiphany, that leads me to ask, "How can we thank God enough?"

Nick