EfM has changed the way I understand my faith, my church, and even how I see God at work in everyday life.

As I prepare to complete the four-year EfM Classic program this June, I find myself deeply grateful for the journey—and honestly, a bit amazed at how transformative it has been. I began EfM when I was still relatively new to the Episcopal Church, coming from an Evangelical background. I knew I had found a spiritual home, but EfM gave me the space to explore why. In those early days, I often found myself saying my mind was “blown”—and in many ways, it still is.
EfM has strengthened my foundation in both the Old and New Testaments, while also teaching me how to think more critically and faithfully about Scripture. I also enjoyed how Year Three brought Christian history to life in a way that gave context to everything—helping me understand not just what we believe, but how those beliefs were shaped over time.

One of the greatest gifts of EfM has been community. Our group brings together a wide range of perspectives, and that diversity has not only challenged me, but truly shaped how I see the world and my faith. There is something powerful about being in a space where curiosity is encouraged, questions are welcomed, and growth is expected.

I have also had the privilege of serving as a mentor since my second year. That journey has stretched me in ways I didn’t anticipate. It hasn’t always been easy, but it has been deeply rewarding. Watching others grow while continuing to grow myself has been one of the most meaningful parts of this experience.
And then there is Theological Reflection—arguably the most challenging and most transformative practice in EfM. Through it, I have learned to see God in all things, not just in the obvious or expected places. Participating in the reflections of others has been just as powerful, offering insight into how each person encounters and understands God in their own life.

EfM has also played a significant role in my ongoing discernment. It has helped me listen more closely, think more deeply, and remain open to where the Holy Spirit may be leading me next.

I encourage everyone to consider participating in EfM. Our new Wide Angle is a great way to “get your feet wet” if you aren’t ready to jump into the four-year Classic. EfM is not just a program; it is an invitation—an invitation to grow, to question, to listen, and ultimately, to be transformed. If you would like to learn more, please don’t hesitate to reach out! (email: csmccormk@gmail.com) We’d love for you to join us!

There are some weeks that feel larger once they are over. You move through them in real time–checking schedules, welcoming guests, solving problems, teaching classes, finding coffee, making introductions, hoping microphones work–and only afterward do you realize something meaningful happened. That is how I felt after the Episcopal Communicators Conference in San Diego.

Communicators from across the country (and even a couple from Europe) came to San Diego to learn about writing, photography, video, AI, strategy, formation, leadership, storytelling, and more. But what many of us discovered was deeper than professional development. Together, we were reminded how deep the ministry of communications truly goes.

The week began at St. Paul’s Episcopal Cathedral, where about 150 communicators were welcomed for the opening Eucharist led by Bishop Susan Brown Snook. It was a perfect beginning. Before workshops, before panels, before awards, before scanning QR codes and karaoke sessions, we were gathered as a community of Christians in worship.

In her sermon, Bishop Susan named what many of us already feel: a tangible weight. Today, we live in a world where grief seems louder than joy. She said, “These days, reading the news of our world feels like one bell tolling after another.” But despair does not have the final word, “I believe with all my heart that our Episcopal Church has good news to share. The best news…That good news makes you agents of hope in a time of despair…And hope is the message of Easter.”

In a communications role, it is easy to forget about hope in our work. We spend our time buried in headlines, crises, deadlines, corrections, and urgent requests. It is easy to feel that our work is simply tactical: send the email, fix the typo, crop the image, rewrite the headline, update the website, post the announcement. But Bishop Susan reminded us that communication in the Church is not transactional. It is ministry.

She reframed communication as a sacred movement from information to transformation. On the road to Emmaus, the travelers had already heard the news, but news alone had not changed them. They knew the facts, yet they were still walking in grief until Christ met them, opened the story, and set their hearts burning. Communicators are called to help people recognize Christ already walking beside them.

The next morning, The Rev. Lauren Winner, Associate Professor of Christian Spirituality at Duke Divinity School and the vicar of St. Joseph’s Episcopal Church in Durham, North Carolina, delivered the first keynote and gave us one of the most memorable ideas of the conference: the newsletter is a new “Genre of the Church.” It is the new epistle. (This was strangely freeing for me.) She helped us imagine Paul writing to the Christians scattered across the Mediterranean, sending letters of guidance, and connecting it to how I quietly labor over newsletters that feel mundane and often invisible–wondering if anyone is listening. But Rev. Winner reframed the newsletter as a descendant of the letters that sustained the early Church. A way of showing the road to Christ.

And here in San Diego, we take the path to Christ seriously. The Episcopal Diocese of San Diego did not just host this conference; we helped lead it. Of 24 workshops and pre-conference offerings, and two keynotes, 11 were led by people connected to the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego. This makes me incredibly proud of my diocese. I’m moved that people came to San Diego and encountered not only our city, but also our wisdom, our creativity, our faithfulness, our care-filled witness, and our lived ministry. They saw that the Church here is real and doing the work of Christ in our region.

Communicators from across the globe heard about affordable housing rising from church land. They heard about accompaniment at court. They learned about hospitality and care for women and children across the border. They experienced a church plant in Ocean Beach that values belonging and beauty. They engaged leaders who care deeply about formation, ethics, systems, story, and evangelism. They saw the face of Jesus here. 

In short, we showed what EDSD is about–Courageous Love.

For me, personally, the week carried another layer of gratitude. At the Polly Bond Awards–held during a seated dinner in the nave of the Cathedral, the Episcopal Communicators’ version of the Academy Awards–I received two recognitions: an Honorable Mention for Long Form Video and an Award of Merit for Commentary/Reflection.

Both mean a great deal to me. But the writing award was deeper.

To be recognized by a room full of peers who are storytellers, writers, editors, and people who spend their lives trying to find the right word, the honest phrase, the sentence that opens a heart, felt profoundly affirming. I often feel that communications work is invisible, but writing is incredibly personal. Writing carries judgment, care, theology, and craft. It asks something of the soul.

To receive an Award of Merit for Best Reflection felt like confirmation that my care for this work matters.

In fact, that was the thread running through the whole conference: care matters. Care in the words we choose and the tone we set; in the systems we build; in our designs, where beauty, clarity, and accessibility help people feel welcomed. Care in how we invite people into community and deeper faith, and how we sustain the people doing this work, remembering that communicators are not machines but human beings called to serve with their whole selves.

The Episcopal Communicators came together to talk about communications, but we left remembering that communications in the life of the Church is never only communications. It is helping people know there is room for them. It is showing where God is alive and active in the world. It is shaping hearts and imaginations over time. It is offering courage to weary people and communities. It is telling the truth and lifting voices too often unheard. It is sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ with clarity and joy. And in a world so often marked by anxiety and division, it is hope.

Thank you to those from EDSD who helped make this happen:

• Robert Vivar (EDSD Migration Missioner) led the preconference border immersion to Comunidad de Luz in Mexico.
• Heatherlyn (Resident Musician at Resurrection OB) led a day-long wellness lab at Resurrection Ocean Beach on self-care and renewal.
• Charlette Preslar (EDSD Director of Formation)  taught two sessions on formation: Creating Media for Formation and Working with Christian Ed Teams.
• I, Chris Tumilty (Director of Communications), taught a session on photography, video, and design. I also co-led an affinity group workshop for diocesan communicators.
• Bishop Susan Brown Snook and I taught together on working with clergy and leadership.
• Adrienne Wilkerson (ECS) taught two sessions: Discovering Your Brand Identity and Content Planning.
• Canon Jason Evans (Canon to the Ordinary for Mission) moderated the Ethics of AI panel.
• John McAteer and Lorenzo Nericcio (EDSD parishioners) served on the AI panel.
• John Fenastil (Boarder Church leader) taught a class on communicating across languages and cultures.
• The Rev. Richard Hogue (Associate at St. Paul’s Cathedral) anchored the spiritual life of the week and led an affinity group workshop for parish communicators.
• Colby Martin (parishioner at Resurrection Ocean Beach) gave a rousing keynote.
• Greg Tuttle (EDSD Campus Missioner), along with Mario Chavarrio-Newhouse and Luca Delaney, students from Agape San Diego Campus Ministry, hosted the mocktail bar at the Poly Bonds Awards.
• The Cathedral Staff, especially the Rev. Brooks Mason, Jen Jow, Stacey Harper, Mark Sanzi, and Ty Cayatineto, who fielded request after request with a smile and grace. 
• Susan Forsburg (Diocesan and Cathedral Photographer), who took amazing photos of the opening Eucharist and reception.

It’s never too early to start planning your donor stewardship program. 

In fact, best practice is to make sure you are cultivating, thanking, and keeping your congregation’s donors informed throughout the year.   

Every congregation in the Diocese has access to a complete set of materials and resources to run your campaign in the fall, and to inspire generosity and reflect gratitude throughout the year through TENS, The Episcopal Network for Stewardship. 

You can explore all of the materials – available in both English and Spanish – for this year’s Annual Pledge Campaign, “Plenty Good Room” online at www.tens.org.

The Password to access the Pledge Campaign materials is: Matthew22:4 

You’ll have full access to formation tools and seasonal reflections to support your stewardship ministry year-round. These resources are designed to equip your leaders and strengthen your community. 

In addition to campaign materials, you can explore the TENS Resource Library for toolkits, articles, and sample documents, and learn about regular TENS webinars and training materials. 

Those who attend the Stewardship session at Leadership Academy will get a sneak peek at the materials and best practices for using them. 

EXPLORE THE TENS WEBSITE

After four eventful years of service as Archdeacon of the Diocese of San Diego, The Rev. Cindy Campos has discerned that it is time for her to return to diaconal ministry as a parish deacon. We so greatly appreciate Archdeacon Cindy’s dedicated work in this important role.

Cindy was ordained as a vocational deacon in September 2020, in a masked Covid-era service in the outdoor courtyard of the Church Center in Ocean Beach. That ordination service proved to be a symbol of the ways Cindy would minister as a deacon and help overcome barriers and transform our diocese. She served as parish deacon at St. Bart’s in Poway, her sponsoring parish, and then at St. Andrew’s Lake Elsinore and St. Dunstan’s San Diego. She was named archdeacon in 2022, and in that role, she has truly helped develop the ministry of service to the poor, the weak, the sick, and the lonely (the BCP description of diaconal ministry, p. 543).

In her work as archdeacon, Cindy has traveled extensively through our diocese doing Sunday visitations, sometimes on her own and often with me. She has spoken compellingly in many congregations about the ministry of the deacon, inviting people to consider whether they or others in their congregations might be called to that role.

Cindy has recruited and mentored many new deacons and deacon candidates during her time as archdeacon. She has also spearheaded important service initiatives, including “Beanie Bundles” (warm hats, gloves, and socks provided to migrant farm workers), and the FAITH accompaniment ministry for migrants attending hearings at the federal courthouse. She has served as chaplain to retired clergy and provided pastoral care to many. She has organized and led deacons’ retreats and brought the deacons together in community to support one another. She has provided teaching and mentoring to deacons in training at the West Coast Collaborative. She has been a valued and appreciated colleague on the diocesan staff.

I am so grateful for Archdeacon Cindy’s ministry with our diocese. She has truly led our deacon community at a transformative time in our diocese, raising awareness of the ministry of deacons and shepherding many new deacons to serve God and Christ’s Church. I know she will continue to serve faithfully as a deacon, providing care and support for all in need.

Cindy’s time as archdeacon will conclude as of May 31, and she will be assigned to Good Samaritan San Diego as a parish deacon. We offer prayers of gratitude for all Cindy has brought to our diocese and many of our congregations, and we pray for her renewed diaconal ministry at Good Sam.

All Christians are called to live out their faith in daily life. EfM is short for Education for Ministry. In each EfM seminar, you’ll experience community by praying, studying, worshiping, reflecting, and discovering our unique way of walking in the world through faith. Through these five practices, we build community right from the start.

EfMers gather together. People read and reflect on one of five years: Hebrew Scripture, Christian Scripture, Church History, Christian Ethics and Spirituality, or Wide Angle. By having members in multiple years, we can explore the common themes throughout the faith journey. We experience the multiple voices of the spirit through each other’s experiences.

EfM participants study what the Bible says, and also learn how to understand the Bible within its historical, literary, and cultural settings. Biblical studies form the primary work of the first two years. EfM helps participants understand and then apply Holy Scripture to daily life. God’s revelation through Christian tradition is taken seriously by EfM, from the earliest biblical messages, through the development of liturgy and theology, and even to the context of the challenges we face in our own times and daily lives. In the environment of the weekly seminar, this study becomes the fodder for discussion and theological reflection.

You may wonder what Theological Reflection is. It is the heart of EfM — it is what makes EfM not just a Bible study. Using everyday experiences, we connect our heart and head! Theological Reflection is the bridge between the Bible and our lives. It is a technique that enables our faith to impact our lives. It is an intentional disciplined conversation — we are putting things into conversation with God and others. Through the lens of faith, we see the movement of God in our lives, which leads us to grow and transform.

Each seminar group sets its schedule to accommodate the thirty-six weeks of the EfM: Classic and EfM: Wide Angle programs. Each seminar includes worship, community life, theological reflection, and a reflective discussion of the participants’ study from that week’s assignments.

• Participants experience twenty-seven weeks of EfM: Classic and EfM: Wide Angle by engaging material specific to their year.
  • EfM: Classic involves four years, taken one year at a time: Old Testament, New Testament, Christian History, and Christian Spirituality and Ethics.
  • EfM: Wide Angle is an overview of the spiritual journey that introduces participants to EfM: Classic by touching on the Old Testament, New Testament, Christian history, spirituality, and ethics within one year. It can be done before or after EfM: Classic and also as a stand-alone experience.
• Nine weeks are common lessons, which include two weeks marking the beginning and end of the year, four Spiritual Sojourner Essays, and three weeks of Community Gathering sessions.

For a more in-depth discussion of what EfM is all about, have a look at the following video:

For more information or questions, contact the Mentors Cynthia McCormick at csmccormk@gmail.com or Mark Patzman at efm.edsd@outlook.com.

What does it look like when a small congregation responds to the stirring of the Holy Spirit with bold faith? At the Church of the Good Shepherd in Bonita, the answer is taking shape in a church-planting ministry guided by honest self-reflection and a willingness to ask hard questions about the future.

Faced with an aging congregation, shifting neighborhood demographics, and an upcoming pastoral transition, Good Shepherd chose not to wait for change to happen to them. Instead, it began dreaming about what our church could become and who it could reach. The result is a cross-cultural, bilingual second congregation rooted in the same community and the same family of faith, yet designed to open new doors for young families, unchurched neighbors, and the growing Latino population of Bonita.

The Church of the Good Shepherd in Bonita, under the pastoral leadership of Fr. George Calvert, has been blessed by God with a church planting project that will officially begin in June of this year. Our congregation has titled our project the “New Life in Christ Ministry.” The ministry is the product of several years of planning, stemming from a vision of how we as a community could respond to God’s call to reach new populations with the Good News of the Gospel. We began formulating a vision of how to revitalize and perpetuate our church community, foreseeing the challenges posed by our declining, aging congregation within the changing demographics of our surrounding neighborhoods. Another factor in our planning was the upcoming retirement of our priest, meaning that we would inevitably be searching for a new Rector for our parish in a few years. We recognized that there was a need to re-envision our evangelism and our leadership resources to fulfill our church’s mission, as well as the greater mission of the Episcopal Church.

Fortunately, we in the Diocese of San Diego have the great gift of a model and a blueprint for church planting from Bishop Susan Brown Snook (2015) in her book “God Gave the Growth: Church Planting in the Episcopal Church.” The Bishop’s book describes in detail the rationale and the process for church planting that, in her words, “…provide models that draw from ancient Christian and Episcopal traditions, yet adapt those traditions uniquely to speak in a new way to a particular group of people. (p. 54) The model we envisioned at Good Shepherd is a second congregation within an established church that is cross-cultural and cross-generational to reach out to the people who may choose bilingual worship, yet is an integral part of the church family. Our congregation is open and welcoming to the evolving new congregation that God will give us through our outreach to the non-churched and young families and youth, as well as New Generation Latinos, in our ethnically diverse community.  

There are many reasons why we at Good Shepherd have confidence that our church planting project will be successful. One important reason is that the Episcopal Church has demonstrated a strong commitment to church planting projects throughout the nation. This means that there is much experience and wisdom now documented to identify the elements that bring out successful outcomes in the many different local parish contexts in which church planting is undertaken. For example, one guiding document available to us is the Church Planting in the Episcopal Diocese of Texas Handbook, provided to us by Canon Jason Evans of our Diocese of San Diego. The stated purpose of this document is “… to establish the general expectations of the diocese, planter and new faith community, taking into consideration the strengths and passions of potential church planting candidates.” The Handbook describes in detail the process for selecting the locations for church plants by identifying leaders within a parish to clarify how they are called to participate in God’s mission as sending congregations. These criteria explain why the Church of the Good Shepherd and our surrounding community have been chosen through the grace of God and the leadership of the Diocese of San Diego for this mission.

To fulfill the vision of the New Life in Christ Ministry at Good Shepherd, we put out a call for an Associate Priest for Church Planting in May 2025. Fr. Guillermo Castillo responded to the announcement and accepted the call to begin his ministry on June 1, 2026. Fr. Guillermo, who is a native of El Salvador, is an experienced church planter, having founded congregations in Arkansas and Arizona. We are blessed to have received a seed grant from the Center for Church Innovation in San Francisco to support the Associate Priest for Church Planting. In addition to the financial resources, this foundation supports church planter priests through seminars and networking activities, and guides and informs multiple church planting projects. This funding is a vote of confidence in Fr. Guillermo, as well as in Good Shepherd’s vision for our mission. 

In addition, our fundraising campaign asking the congregation for support for the New Life in Christ met and exceeded its goal. Several silent donors matched the congregation’s pledges ten-to-one, which reflects a strong commitment of our parishioners to the church planting project. His support reflects a commitment of time, talent, and treasure, with leadership from the Vestry and church members, with the knowledge and skills to be part of the “launch team” for evangelistic work necessary to form the new congregation. Further funding is also envisioned through a real estate project that will utilize church property as a source of income to continue supporting our current congregation and the second congregation at Good Shepherd.

Our Church Planting mission is our witnessing to the work of the Holy Spirit in the church community that we share with our family, friends, and neighbors to fulfill the mandate of the Great Commission. Matthew 28:19-20: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey all that I have commanded you. “ Fr. George reminds us that our model for evangelism comes right out of Acts 13: 2 ‘The Holy Spirit said, ‘Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” Then, after fasting and praying, they laid their hands on them and sent them off.” Just as the Church in Antioch sent them off to plant churches, we will send our Associate for Church Planting into the community. We thank God for the opportunity to fulfill Good Shepherd’s mission “… to be led by the Holy Spirit to expand God’s Kingdom by bringing the love and power of Jesus Christ into the world and developing followers of Jesus.”

Jill Kerper Mora is the Senior Warden of the Church of the Good Shepherd in Bonita, California, and one of the dedicated lay leaders whose tireless commitment helped transform the New Life in Christ Ministry from a shared dream into an unfolding reality.

With the retirement of the Rev. Canon Gwynn Lynch now complete, the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego holds deep gratitude for a ministry that has quietly and profoundly shaped the life of this diocese.

From December 2019 through April 2026, Gwynn served as Canon to the Ordinary, one of the most demanding and consequential roles in diocesan life. In that position, she worked closely with Bishop Susan Brown Snook, clergy, lay leaders, and diocesan staff to guide the common life of the church. Much of the work of a Canon to the Ordinary happens behind the scenes—supporting clergy, shepherding congregational transitions, coordinating diocesan conventions and major gatherings, and helping the bishop’s office function with clarity and care. But the impact of that work is visible across the diocese.

Gwynn led with confidence, honesty, and a deep love for this diocese. That spirit has shaped the way she has approached every aspect of her ministry.

Guiding the Diocese Through Extraordinary Times

Gwynn stepped into the role of Canon to the Ordinary at a remarkable moment in the life of the church. Just months after she began her tenure, the COVID-19 pandemic reshaped congregational life across the world.

During those early and uncertain months, Gwynn helped stabilize diocesan systems and supported congregations navigating rapidly changing realities. Clergy were learning how to livestream worship, vestries were making difficult decisions about safety and community life, and the diocese itself had to rethink how it gathered for prayer, governance, and mission.

Through it all, Gwynn provided steady leadership—offering guidance, encouragement, and practical support to clergy and lay leaders throughout the diocese. Her ability to hold both the logistical and pastoral dimensions of leadership proved invaluable during that season.

Implementing a Vision for Courageous Love

One of the defining themes of Gwynn’s tenure has been her role in helping the diocese live into its strategic vision of Courageous Love.

Strategic plans can easily become documents that sit on a shelf. Gwynn helped ensure that ours became something much more than that. Working alongside Bishop Susan and diocesan leadership, she helped translate the goals of the Courageous Love strategic plans into the daily rhythms of diocesan life—aligning programs, gatherings, and leadership development with the mission and priorities we share as a diocese.

Her leadership helped ensure that Courageous Love was not simply an aspiration, but a framework for how we organize our common work.

Supporting Clergy and Congregations

Among Gwynn’s most significant contributions has been her work guiding clergy transitions across the diocese. Calling a new rector or priest-in-charge is one of the most important decisions a congregation can make, and Gwynn has walked alongside vestries and discernment committees throughout that process with wisdom and care.

Under her leadership, the diocese has seen a remarkable season of clergy discernment and formation. The number of individuals exploring a call to ordained ministry has grown significantly, and the number of people being ordained to the diaconate and priesthood has increased substantially during her tenure.

At the same time, the quality and strength of clergy called to serve congregations throughout the diocese have grown as well. Gwynn’s thoughtful leadership of congregational transitions has helped ensure that congregations are paired with clergy whose gifts align with their mission and context.

The result has been stronger leadership across the diocese and healthier congregations for the work of the gospel.

A Leader in the Life of the Diocese

Gwynn has also played a central role in many of the major gatherings that shape our common life as a diocese. From diocesan conventions to large-scale celebrations and festivals, she has helped create spaces where our community can gather in worship, discernment, and joy.

One of my favorite memories of Gwynn captures a side of her leadership that many people may not always see. At the Good News Festival, standing in a room of more than a thousand people, Gwynn invited the procession into a moment of joy—getting the entire room dancing and celebrating as the evening’s service began.

It was a beautiful moment that revealed the joyful heart of someone who so often carries the weight of the most serious and difficult moments in diocesan life. Those who work closely with Gwynn know that while her ministry often involves navigating complex and sometimes painful situations, it is grounded in a deep love for the people of this diocese.

Gratitude for a Faithful Ministry

The health and leadership of the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego today bear the mark of Gwynn’s faithful work.

Our systems are stronger. Our clergy are better supported. Our congregations have experienced thoughtful and healthy transitions. And the next generation of ordained leaders is emerging in greater numbers than we have seen in many years.

All of this reflects Gwynn’s gifts and her dedication to this diocese.

As she begins her retirement, we give thanks for her leadership, her wisdom, and her deep commitment to the people and congregations of the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego. Her ministry has strengthened this diocese in ways that will continue to bear fruit for years to come.

And for that, we are profoundly grateful.

On Holy Monday, a group of Episcopalians, Lutherans, Roman Catholics and others joined together at Good Samaritan Episcopal Church for a Service of Lament and Witness. From Good Sam, we walked to the nearby trolley station, which connects all the way south to the US-Mexico border, for a time of public witness there. We witnessed to God’s love for every human being and God’s hope for a renewed and transformed world.

Sadly, though, that transformation seems far away, because we live in a world of barriers between human beings, built to exclude and separate and break down relationships. If you cross the border into Tijuana and look at the border wall, you will see high, slatted fences that go right out into God’s ocean. That wall stretching out into the shining ocean seems to me to be a symbol of all the ways humans enforce exclusion, distance and difference, and fail to create space for inclusion, compassion, and love.

During Holy Week and Easter, we Christians remember that Jesus came to break down barriers – barriers between God and human beings, and barriers that separate people from each other. Jesus commanded us to love God and love our neighbors. He lived a life of justice, peace, healing, and reconciliation. He willingly gave himself up to suffering and death, to open up a pathway of reconciliation between heaven and earth. He commanded us to live lives of hope – hope founded not on optimism that things will always go our way – we can look at the world and see that’s not true. Rather, we live in hope founded on our personal experience of Christ, who died and yet was raised, and who commands us to model our lives on his, to share God’s love with the world.

This Easter, we remember that on his way to resurrection and glory, Jesus walked the path of suffering and death. Therefore as Christians, we do not turn away from suffering – we enter into it, as Jesus did, we embrace those who are in need and trouble, we offer hope and comfort to the vulnerable and lonely. God tells us not to look away, not to practice our religion in private without seeing the truth of suffering in the world. Instead, God tells us to loose the bonds of injustice, to let the oppressed go free, to feed the hungry and to shelter those without homes. When we do, we bear witness to God’s command to love each other as Christ has loved us – self-offering, self-giving, offering our hearts and minds for the sake of Jesus, the risen Christ we celebrate this day.

On Easter, we pray that the day will come when barriers between people will fall and all nations will live in peace, with abundant life for all, in a world where the highest value is love between humans, creation, and God. We remember that Jesus has broken the ultimate barrier – between humans and God, between earth and heaven, between life and death. This Easter, we rejoice because Jesus has invited us to share with him in eternal life.

In Christ,

Bishop Susan Brown Snook

“Will we look away from suffering?” was the question that over 150 people gathered at Good Samaritan Episcopal Church asked on March 30, Holy Monday. As Holy Week began, we paused to lament and pray, holding the world’s grief rather than turning away from it.

Inside the church, the room filled with clergy in purple stoles, lay leaders, families, neighbors, and partners from across traditions. Episcopalians, Lutherans, and Roman Catholics came together for prayer shaped by lament, scripture that refuses to soften the truth, and a shared willingness to stand in the tension between grief and hope.

In that space of shared grief, Bishop Susan Brown Snook said, “During Holy Week, we remember that Jesus came to break down barriers–barriers between God and human beings, and barriers that separate people from one another.”

Her words reframed everything that followed. Repairers of the Breach was not just a gathering about immigration or public policy; it was about barriers that continue to divide human beings from one another. “In mid-2025, it was estimated that there were 178 million displaced people in the world. And there are millions more now that there is another war. Each one of those people has a history, a family, a heart. 

“Each one of those people is a beloved child of God. Each person stuck in a detention center, unable to contact their family, each person hiding in fear of war, violence, or deportation. Each person worried about their next meal or where their children’s health care will come from… They are all beloved and precious in God’s sight. And God tells us not to look away,” said Bishop Susan Brown Snook. 

Do not look away. Do not retreat into abstraction or safety. Faith, as she described it, refuses distance. It draws closer. It sees. It responds. Lament is not passive; it is the beginning of courageous love in action.

Ashley, a young woman from the San Diego Organizing Project, shared what it meant to grow up as the child of an undocumented parent–the constant awareness that stability could shift without warning. She recalled standing outside a courthouse, watching two young children leave after their father was detained and deported–and realizing how easily that could have been her own story.

Through tears, she told of her older sister, a DACA recipient, who could not fly to attend their younger sister’s college graduation because of increased ICE presence at airports. 

The room held that truth without trying to resolve it. That is what lament does. It tells the truth–and then asks what comes next.

And then, we moved into the public sphere. Out of the sanctuary. Into the streets.

Our community walked together toward the Executive Drive Trolley Station–a trolley line that reaches all the way to the US/ Mexico border. The procession was quiet and deliberate. Not loud, not performative.

At the station that transports thousands of people each day, the closing reflections were offered.

Bishop Felipe Pulido, Assisting Bishop from the Roman Catholic Church, spoke first, “These are not distant stories. They are lived realities here in San Diego. We therefore call upon our leaders to recognize and uphold the fundamental dignity of every human person, without exception. We are called to welcome, to protect, to promote, and to integrate the immigrant. These are not abstract ideals. They are the living expression of compassion in our time.”

Then Bishop David C. Nagler, ELCA, stepped forward,  motioning around him–calling attention to the literal place of transit, reminding us of warnings found in transit systems, “Mind the gap! You can’t repair what you don’t see.”

He named the gaps that shape our lives: the distance between wealth and poverty, between those who hold power and those pushed to the margins, between communities taught to fear one another. Bishop Nagler said, “There’s a gap that exists between people who are born in a body like mine… and those who get pushed to the edges. There is no way that we can repair the breach that’s in the world if we have a giant breach in our hearts.”

The work of repair is external but also personal. It is spiritual. It requires attention—not just to systems, but to ourselves. Standing there, with over 150 people, at a place built around the freedom of movement, the symbolism was unmistakable. The Church had moved from prayer to presence–naming what is broken and standing within it.

The night began in lament, and it ended in something just as powerful: a shared commitment. To step into the gaps rather than around them. To be, in the words of Isaiah, “repairers of the breach.” Not in theory. Not in abstraction. But in life. In neighborhoods, in courtrooms, in schools, and at the border itself.

Holy Week does not offer an easy path. It leads through suffering, not around it. And on this Holy Monday, more than 150 people chose to publicly walk that path with Christ.

To learn more about EDSD’s efforts toward Courageous Love in Action, visit: edsd.org/courageous-love-in-action

Holy Week is holy not because it is religious but because it is profoundly Real.

My first Holy Week as a new rector challenged me to line up all the necessary things and people for the Palm Sunday procession and dramatic reading of the Passion, the foot washing on Maundy Thursday, the Watch before the Blessed Sacrament on Maundy Thursday night, the Good Friday Liturgy including the Veneration of the Holy Cross, and the Great Vigil of Easter replete with two baptisms of young children. Before the Good Friday liturgy began, a choir member remarked, “You sure are making us come to church an awful lot this week!”

I was taken aback. It somehow hadn’t occurred to me that my enthusiasm for Holy Week didn’t extend to people who saw all those liturgies as a string of services that required a lot of work and a whole lot of churchgoing.

From then on, I had an annual project. Sometime early in Lent, I would begin unpacking what Holy Week was about. I’d send mailings, make announcements, encourage church school teachers to get kids on board, talk it up among parish leaders, write newsletter articles, and develop adult education courses. I guess some of those things might have had a positive effect.

But that project was nothing compared with my eventual discovery that the God we proclaim shows up in our ordinary experience. Holy Week and Easter, like the entirety of Jesus’ life and ministry, are not recollections of historical events, but paths to become aware of those themes and events in our very own experience.

Once, when my older daughter Sarah, was a little over two, she walked in the procession waving a little palm branch on Palm Sunday. I saw in a flash the Great Tradition, each generation grabbing a piece of the holy history and carrying it forward. In that way, we live Holy Week and Easter. The triumphal entry into Jerusalem is as much about you as it is about Jesus. In your life you’ve had your triumphs, perhaps when once you were on stage, applauded for your performance. Or when the air was electric with joy so palpable that even stones seemed to shout out in adulation. Sometimes such moments give way to deep disappointment, sorrow, maybe agony, as you get your own taste of Gethsemane, dreading the cup you know you must drink.

In a New England town, we had a Good Friday children’s liturgy. I would call children from the congregation and have them assume roles in the narratives of each of the stations of the cross. They would form tableaux of the scenes. Once, I called on a little tyke named Andrew to be Simon of Cyrene. I took his hand and helped him take the crude wooden cross from the acolyte, who was acting the part of Jesus. Andrew got scared after a few minutes and started to cry. The acolyte, facing away from him, turned around, bent down to console him, then whispered something in his ear, and once more took the cross, sending the sobbing Andrew back to his mama. That action has come to mean nearly the entirety of the incarnation for me: when we cannot bear what our humanity demands, down down down bends Jesus, taking the cross himself.

In another parish, I went to the day school for my very first Maundy Thursday children’s liturgy. The Director had five volunteers’ feet for me to wash. One backed out. But the remaining four children wanted both their feet washed. I taught them the first verse of that little Ghanaian folk song, “Jesu, Jesu, fill us with your love, show us how to serve the neighbors we have from you.” They squealed with delight, giggling as I poured water over their feet, and probably at the sight of the priest squatting to wash them.

I dried the last foot. The director, holding a little girl’s hand, said, “Father Dunn, Anna has taken off her shoe.” Anna was blind. Normally, when Anna came to chapel, she would often whine and cry. But here she came with her shoe and sock off her right foot, wanting me to wash it. I said, “Wonderful! Anna, we’d love to wash your foot!” The kids cheered and laughed as I poured water over her foot. Anna sucked on her pacifier and smiled. I washed and washed. Someone started singing, “Jesu, Jesu, fill us with your love,…” I could only see Jesus, the rabbi, scrunched down on the floor, washing the feet of his very blind and fearful disciples.

We touch something deep in these liturgies. And that something is the power of Life, of Resurrection, flooding us before we ever even get to “Alleluia” at the Great Vigil of Easter. Palms, foot washing, the Way of the Cross: they thread through human experience, in the lives of a Sarah, an Andrew, an Anna. Although many of my Holy Week anecdotes are about children, Holy Week is anything but a simplistic series of liturgies. They are complex, rich, suggestive.

Yet in my estimation, they are best understood as embodying Jesus’ most radical teaching: “Unless you become as children, you’ll never participate in the Kingdom of God.” Much like a warm hand that touches a knotty muscle, unleashing a flood of memories and sensations, these liturgies touch deep archetypes that flatten us with their power, yet raise us up to new visions of who we are and what we can become: whole, free, open, not unlike the children we were when we began to live.

I encourage you to attend services at your church this Holy Week. The road we travel in preparation for Easter is a holy journey that reveals God in amazing ways. 

The Reverend Frank Dunn is a retired priest who lives in Cathedral City and worships at The Church of St. Paul in the Desert, Palm Springs.