Children, Wisdom, and the Marketplace

I always imagined a fountain. I imagine these young people playing around a fountain in the middle of this marketplace. What's in my imagination isn't a plaza in Jesus's day but something mid-twentieth century, maybe a little like a scene from Roman Holiday. I guess I imagine a fountain because of the connection with John the baptizer. Or maybe it's a place from my mid-70s West German childhood. The children I imagine playing certainly look like my friends, they sing the songs we would have sung and tell the stories we would tell. We all come to scripture with a lifetime of memories and art that fill in the space between the text.  What do you see and hear?

If you look beyond this imagined fountain in this marketplace, Jesus and some of his companions have come to get some fruit, some bread, whatever. Jesus and his friends run into some of curious opponents who are so intrigued or bothered by Jesus's holiness and teaching. So bugged that they just can't let him be.  In the background, these children could be singing what we would think of as a nursery rhyme, or it could be the equivalent of a pop song. They were not quoting Aristotle or uttering proverbs, however, Jesus raises their presence up to eye level. 

Childhood is a modern ideal. Of course, there have always been children, but the sweet darling vision of innocence that we might assume when we hear of children isn’t what Jesus’ hearers assume. Generally, people loved their children, the gospels themselves witness to such wholehearted familial love. However, the cultural norm, especially in the wider Hellenistic world, considered children in general to be on par with squirrels or stray dogs. Germy and in the way, a drain on resources until they could contribute, unfocused: plenty of the same critiques we might make today when we are quite frustrated with our children.  In this ancient situation the repeated New Testament use of children as a positive analogy for the way of discipleship - it would have gotten your attention because it sounded somewhat insulting. And here where children are raised up as carriers of sacred truth and wisdom, is stepping way outside the status quo. 

In 2012 a boy named Robbie was stuck at home, or maybe he was in the hospital again. When you have a brittle bone disease some times of immobility are just par for the course. So to keep him busy his older brother-in-law started a video project with him. It was a silly little delight intended just for themselves, a video of what a "Kid President" might have to say to anyone who would listen. Things like: if you can’t think of anything nice to say you aren’t thinking hard enough. And: give people high fives for just getting out of bed. Being a person is hard sometimes. It was a playfulness but he managed to same some things that apparently we need to hear.  The internet is our modern marketplace and that child, he uttered pep talks that went viral. 

One of the things that's changed since Jesus's day is sometimes we are more willing to hear the truth from a child than a peer. Especially a child with a muppet-like laugh and a sly smile. I believe a big part of the reason for this change in the embrace of childhood is because of Jesus himself. His very Incarnation, his humble birth to struggling parents in a backwater town: it changed how we see all children and our duty to them. We don’t inherit our world from our parents, we borrow it from our children. How should that truth, in the light of Jesus, shape our choices? What are they saying that we should hear? 

The scene we just witnessed in the marketplace has Jesus responding to his detractors saying, we just can’t win with you, because you are not even listening.  These children get something you don't.  He is also subtly repeating the fragility of his own life, the threat that he was under. The commentary regarding he and John, some of those bad reviews are punishable by death. Jesus whistles a tune of his own fragility in this life for being so transparent to God.

The very image of God's heart, Jesus doesn’t show up to issue report cards or reject the way we are made. He comes alongside our play fountains and our dark valleys. He sings along and welcomes us: the gluttons and challengers and the last and the least and the lost. He comes to love us all so wholeheartedly, to sing along with us so naturally, that our tune falls in line with his. 

Do you hear his song, and won't you sing along?

June 30/July 5, 2020

RCL- A Proper 9 (Psalm and Gospel only, Track 1)

Christ Church, Ridley Park, PA

Episcopal Diocese of Pennsylvania

Take Us By the Hand: God and Robots

Wall-E is the last functioning junk compacting robot on Earth. Perhaps you remember the lead character in the Pixar animated film of the same name. Humanity has trashed the planet, those that survive have flown away on an infinite interstellar cruise. That space pod of humanity has sent a robot back to Earth to search for signs of life. EVE is the slick advanced technology life detective Who arrives on Earth, And clunky, dirty, duct-taped together Wall-E is immediately entranced, even though she is distant, tightly-wound, and frustrated. Wall-E’s fascination with EVE is perhaps an illustration of the way some of us ordinary people feel when we meet someone of significant famousness or attractiveness or polish.

There are many ways in which our lessons today could connect to that film Wall-E, which if you haven't seen it you really should. What truly brought it to mind however is the full meaning of the word that we heard translated as welcome. We heard it seven times in three sentences. It can mean learning, to grant access, to not refuse friendship, and it can also mean to take with the hand. Wall-E has no other instinct than to receive this stranger, to show her his home to offer her his treasures.  And time and time again he tries to take her ‘hand’. She doesn’t understand the gesture, her arms and hands are held tightly, but again and again, Wall-E never gives up on welcoming EVE by taking her hand. 

Many of the Gospel stories that we know the outline of by heart are variances on the command of these few sentences. Most of the times that Jesus is at table are an embodied expression of just such an open invitation. The wonders of the loaves and fishes, the Samaritan woman at the well, the children in the courtyard. Just as Jesus tells us today seven times to accept him, this call to grant full access to his life and death and Resurrection - is repeated and repeated all over the New Testament, like it is God’s favorite movie. He's not just asking us to welcome the smooth and slick or the carbon copies of ourselves, but also the prophets those who speak truth to power, those who cast visions of who we need to embody God's Reign.  Jesus calls us to welcome, receive, to take by the hand the prophets of moral revival. 

We've been through the first three months of learning to extend our hands to one another in less literal ways. In the name of Jesus we've been practicing our discipleship #togetherapart. And for the most part, we will keep doing that. And yet this week for the first time in as many months we have the chance to take with our hands the sacrament of unity with each other, and unity with God in Christ. To take the bread that is a recommitment to our baptismal promises into our very selves. Those of us who gather will be receiving not only for ourselves but for all who for their own well being are choosing not to gather in person. We are together in the mystery of the sacraments, together in the mission of healing and reconciliation, and the commitment to be the concrete shape of Jesus in our neighborhoods in welcoming ways. 

Our Gospel lesson today even though it is prevalent, it has not always been the dominant practice of the whole church. If you have ever felt left behind on a trashed planet, if you've ever been treated like you are grime-y or outdated or too other, I am sorry and on behalf of the church in which I am a priest, I declare that we are sorry, that God loves you, wants to take all of us by the hand, and show us his true way. Jesus shows us over and over that we are to welcome you, just as God made you. 

One of the meanings of the Greek word that is translated today as welcome is learn. Interesting to think of how welcome and learn are connected. What we are learning and welcoming in this era of figuring out what it means that church is more than a building or a club? Church is a people-on-a-mission word. The church is a duty and a responsibility to welcome and learn the best practices for the common good … at the minimum. And in the middle of the curve is to welcome into our lives the life changing vulnerability Of letting Jesus take us by the hand. God is smitten with all of us, and like Wall-E is trying over and over to take us by the hand. 

Stay safe as possible, and at the same time, trust in God's mercy, love, and act on his command to welcome the last and the first, the slick and the clunky, the expected and the revelation. Welcome, learn, embody Jesus, he is trying to take us all by the hand.

June 23 and 28 2020

Christ Church, Ridley Park

Proper 8, RCL-A Track 1, Psalm and Gospel

Fresh Fruits of the Spirit - 2020

Pentecost is finally here.  The celebration of the Spirit of God, the focus on the third person of the Trinity in whom we might have a stronger sense of living and moving and having our being; or you may also not know what in the world folks are talking about when they say they feel the Spirit move.  This Covidtide has demanded from us some fresh fruits of the Spirit. Here is my list.  What other fresh fruits of the spirit might you include for this time?

If you scroll a long long way you might find last year's fruits.  A few of these have changed, not because they are not fruits of the Spirit (maybe) but because they don't suit the best practices of now, or, take much more of a conversation to agree on. 

Whatever fruits you are seeing, or missing, I pray that the Spirit of God is with you this day, bringing you comfort, energy and courage.

Never Normal Anyways

I haven’t been comfortable with the word normal for a long time, And now I really don’t know what to do with it. I like bumper stickers that say 'normal is boring'. Or posters that say 'weird is a side effect of awesome'. I verbally dance around the word normal, often choosing conventional instead. Even the most conventional of my close friends are not very ‘normal’, and some might consider the adjective an insult. For most of my life the use of the word normal has been on a downward trend in books, but months into this upsetting era of pandemic and red zones, normal seems to be one of the most wished-for ideas, a word used like it is magic. Even some of the most funky folks I know are embracing nostalgia while naming our loneliness and losses and grief in one word: normal.

You might have noticed that I am making choices about our lessons to shorten the time of the service. Some of you may feel like we have all the time in the world, but I trust that there is good experience behind the time segments of the broadcast industry. More importantly, however, is looking ahead to being able to offer a modified and strictly organized and as safe as possible option of in-person communion services: which will need to be quite brief. So early this week I glanced at the readings and I saw the words Noah and baptism, and without really reading and chose 1 Peter (over the Acts of the Apostles lesson with Paul at th Aeropagus). 

It feels like a Great Flood kind of time, but it also doesn’t. Everything is storms of information and loss. We are a zoo’s worth of emotions inside of us and a rainbow of external experiences right now. But outside the world looks, normal. Grass keeps growing and bunnies chase, and there isn’t a disaster like a watery flood at our doors. Except that there is - and isn’t as obvious as a torrent. So the discord between the view outside of boring, and the feelings from our tossed hearts and grieving minds - the incongruence is making our seasick feeling even worse. So we cling to the wishes and balmy magic of the word normal. 

The first letter of Peter. It is a weird text. It is a beautiful Greek, which raises some logical curiosities. It makes arguments and advocates for ideas that are coloring outside the lines of what became normal in Christian doctrine. In our bulletin our lesson today is two paragraphs. The commentary was five pages long in a big book! The Noah connection with baptism is classic and almost unexamined, but the analogy here is odd if you think about it too much. The power isn’t in the details, but in the almost Jungian imagery. The whole letter is trying to work out what it means to be outside of normal, to be a resident alien, to face slander and lies, and not retaliate. How do we keep our whole lives aligned with Jesus’ commands to love as we are loved, when we feel so far from safe? 

1 Peter is pastoring at a distance and despite its detailed complexities and out of stepness, the focus is very potent to us right now: how do we hold fast to Jesus’ promises? How do we practice the common good in this bizarre storm of suffering and confusion and grief and distancing and denial - under sunny skies? Furthermore, this paragraph urges us to not idolize the previous norms. For the original audience, this meant whatever was found in the local idol practices. These previous ways only feed the denial of our deep anxiety and discomfort. The commendation here is that it is Jesus’ servant leadership that is our strength in this chaos. His death and resurrection are the victory over confusion and evil. 

At the top of this lesson is the directive: do what is right - follow the commands of Jesus - especially when it is hard. In this, we will find blessing, not saccrine escapism or numb glee - but Christ's peace, which is connected centered gladness. This promise has held true for a long time, it has been tested before and found to be verifiable. It can meet this era of grief and weirdness. Follow the directions of Jesus. Love. Serve. Adapt. 

We have been baptized into Christ’s life, and death, and resurrection. We are people who have promised to move beyond our comfort zone and brave the strange and the unknown. Jesus is with us in learning unexpected new ways to strive for wholeness and peace. Yes - we feel strange because we are stuck in an ark when the rains have stopped. It isn’t normal. Much of what we thought was normal might lay in our wake: and it will be ultimately alright, if not in the way we had expected. We can lament all that we left behind and lean lovingly into the adaptations of today and tomorrow. The Spirit is with us in this. Advocating for the best of us, and brooding over these and chaotic waters with divine love and energy. 

This time is difficult - and the message of 1 Peter for us today is that our places of pain are the places of grace where we learn anew how fiercely we are held by God.  This is where we learn that we are not finished, we are not alone, that we are still changing, and the church is too. Maybe weird is the new normal. And just maybe, weird has always been normal for disciples of Jesus Christ.

CCRP

DioPA

Easter 6 RCL A

Broadcast on Facebook Live @christchurchatridleypark

Acts of the Pioneers

In this part of the US (SE Pennsylvania) things get named revolutionary, colonial, patriot, liberty. I lived for many years in Oregon and Washington and out there a lot of the same kind of things get named pioneer (also Lewis and Clark).  There are of course historical reasons for that difference. Today we heard a small slice from the text named Acts of the Apostles. Which is a creative storytelling of the memories of a pioneer movement in a revolutionary time in the life of the world.

Acts of the Apostles is full of action tremendous highs and devastating lows as it explores the revolutionary impact of Jesus's resurrection. It is much more about pioneers than it's about revolution, but then it's probably fair to say that most pioneers a revolutionary. It also wrestles with theodicy: Why is there evil in a good creation? Specifically what happens when the good news of the Jesus movement encounters hard-heartedness, enemies, Evil, and destruction. If this good news changes everything for good, then why are witnesses like Stephen martyred by their kinsman?

You may have noticed, that the primary time we hear from Acts of the Apostles is in Easter season when it displaces our usual Old Testament reading. This is of note with today’s lesson because it is the Christian relationship with the Hebrew scriptures that Stephen is talking about when he gets in trouble. He is one of the first deacons, he was called to take the good news out into the world both in word and in the distribution of food. He is also as far as we know the first Christian martyr. From our brief lesson, You may be left wondering why was Stephen stoned to death? (The lesson doesn't tell.)

Earlier in the Acts of the Apostles, we were told that Stephen is full of the Holy Spirit, and he defends the word of God with wisdom. Stephen is a Greek name and it seems that he was a person who is hereditarily Jewish but born and raised in the diaspora - scattered communities elsewhere in the Mediterranean region. He may have come back to Jerusalem to be closer to its roots, and it is there that he encounters I presume, Jesus himself, and becomes a disciple of this one who he believes is the Messiah. Most Jewish people in that ancient spread out diaspora had learned how to practice their faith far removed from access to the Temple. Stephen's argument is building on this - connecting the pre-temple era with the divine presence of Jesus. 

He celebrating the ways of worship in the wilderness with Moses with the Spirit moving through the tent with flexibility and mobility. He says this tent life with God this is the same as the new creation they have encountered in Jesus the Messiah the Christ. A temple built by human hands isn't necessary he argues. God's activity is not bound by place or by time and God's judgment of humanity is based on are our obedience to God’s commands to safeguard the last the least and the lost. Some prophets have advocated similar things (and may have died for their prophetic speech), this isn’t a new idea, but also not coloring inside the lines. And the response of the authorities and his not-Jesus-following brethren is outrage and fear and panic and anger, so much that it becomes a mob which stones and kills Stephen. 

It is this death which strikes such fear in his community that many of them leave Jerusalem they had to escape to the north and began what becomes the pioneer story of the Jesus movement. This devastating blow moves us into a life-giving, liberating mission to all. Acts of the Apostles is not a victory performance. It's a marathon with celebrations and devastation and loving-kindness and confusion and righteousness and amazing growth. I think the lesson from Acts of the Apostles for us right now at this time is that the grief and the joys will come like waves as we ride through different 'landscapes', or new 'weather systems'. These changes are going to be a part of our life on this journey. This is a pioneer time, it is like a trek all the way across North America, not by plane or train, but by horse and wooden wheels. It will be long and complicated. 

Looking ahead to this truth and way of life is important. The death toll should scare us It should throw our hearts to the ground. It should put our masks on and keep us at home as much as possible. It should call us to be in prayer and study more, to empower us to demonstrate the love of Jesus in the shadows of injustice. This storm of grief is real and we shouldn’t pretend it is sunshine. However, in the same moment, I hope we feel the tender mothering wing of Christ around us. And then never forget to look way back and see how far we have come. We are resilient and we meet the challenges! The millenias of people that came before us have survived incredible difficulty and strangeness with almost none of the advantages we have.. and they figured it out. We have so much to be thankful for and we will create life together beyond this pandemic. Even when parts of what we loved in the past will be no longer. 

Remember - everything we know about God's creation is that it is constantly changing it has always been changing and with tears and in laughter, we can continue to listen and learn together-apart to serve forever with Christ. The witness of the Acts of the Apostles Is that we are called by the Spirit of God To not get stuck, to brave all the days with love and adaptation. This week may we know the wise faith of Saint Stephen, the candid courage of the revolutionaries and patient commitment of the pioneers.

CCRP

DioPA

Easter 5 RCL A

The Walk to Emmaus as an Examen

Free for anyone reusable masks @ CCRP

Theirs is a crowded loneliness. I call them Max and Cleo. One has a name, Cleopas, the other doesn’t. Some of you know I don’t like nameless characters - so I call the other guy Max. These two, they are getting out of Jerusalem. Followers of Jesus, who days before was put to death as a revolutionary. It was just after the festival, so the road, every road out of Jerusalem would have been crowded. Max and Cleo had every reason to have been scared, but perhaps they were too numb to even feel that. When I see them, I imagine them anxious, confused and bustled on a crowded road. And I find myself with a new reaction to that scene. I shrink back now, try to step aside on their behalf. Trying to care for myself, for my neighbors, There is so much known and unknown A moment of too much and too little. I find myself in the vicinity of Max and Cleo I want to step back, protect them, protect me, and I look around with concern and judginess at the rest of the people and wonder where are your masks?

The location of Emmaus is lost in the sands of time. All the probable locations are at a long foot travel distance which make the told timeline of this tale improbable. Luke is more interested in the meeting the heart than matching the clock. I trust that this episode holds a feeling, an experience a witness of the early days of the risen Jesus. And I know it is the experience of followers in every era who go from huh? to whoa! Emmaus is almost metaphor for whatever space we go to to escape - even if it is in our own mind palace.  Emmaus is that good place we go to get away from all the drama and all the trouble and Jesus meets us there. Where do you go in your heart - where do you desire to go - to get away from the crowded loneliness of now? A space that is verdant but also a blank canvas? Room to find sacred freedom, and to find peace enough to be touched and fed by Jesus? Do you need to carve that out? Even if it is your shower? 

The lesson for the third Sunday, this third Sunday of Easter, It is the outline of how this all fits together - the eternal Christ - born, lived, died, risen, ascended - always present. Do we understand it? No. Do we feel it? Yes. This walk to Emmaus is exploring why Jesus matters in a story format. Max and Cleo on their attempted escape to Emmaus is one of the most central Christian narratives because it tells the complicated drama of what we trust, and how we live, and who Jesus is in our lives. 

The best tool I know of for getting a little bit of “away” so I can focus staying still and getting away to get better at noticing Jesus walking with me is the Ignatian practice of the Examen. And the easiest way to remember it for me is 5 R words. Practiced once a day with these five simple prompts: Relish request review repent resolve. 

Relish is savoring the feelings of the day: what was bitter, sweet, sour, fruitful? Request is the prayer of welcoming God: God who created everything, Jesus who shepherds us, the Spirit that intercedes with sighs to deep for words. Review is considering the agenda of the day with God - what did you do this day? Repent is what do you notice from these savorings and reflection that lead you to confess sin? Resolve is looking forward and setting your intention for a more wholehearted faithfulness tomorrow. 

All 5 of those prompts Relish Request Review Repent Resolve are in the Emmaus story - in another order. Relish - that memory of how their hearts had been burning. Request - inviting Jesus to sit table with them. Review - when they recount the previous days of death and reports of Jesus’ resurrection. Repent - Jesus’ judgement about our foolishness. Resolve - The excitement with which they return to Jerusalem and proclaim what they experienced. That easy examen is a five-word guide to looking prayerfully at the day, which in this time of not knowing what day it is - well, I find it to be priceless. Relish Request Review Repent Resolve. 

We are in the middle of this Corona-tide rumble - it is beyond full of grief and confusion. 50,000 dead from the Covid-19 virus in the US alone. I cannot even wrap my head around the woe of that number. The Spirit sighs too deep for words and Jesus weeps. There is no mistaking that many of us are on a lonely and crowded road - whether we are alone and crowded in by all the news and demands and changes; or if we are dwelling in a crowd and feeling all alone. I see you, I feel you. I am praying with you. 

Easter is here - but the wilderness continues. I am here to encourage you in the name of the risen Jesus - your staying apart, wearing uncomfortable masks, Learning to distance, changing our lists from want to need, the turning over of absolutely everything, for what will be a long while, This is walking with Jesus. It is being the church by taking on his shape, making significant sacrifices for the well being of the last and the least. Our feast with him again will be a while, but that does not distance us from him, does not have to lead us to fail in our sacred duties. 

We are in the middle of this difficult journey - a crowded and lonely rumble with the best and the worst. Max and Cleo, as I call them, were on a similar journey. Today’s lesson is the fullness of the Christian experience, it is the truth of our unique life together-apart right now. For thousands of years this Emmaus journey has been the reality of many followers of Jesus. And in the communion of saints, I trust that they are walking with us too - right now. We are not alone. Christ is with us. The saints are with us. Relish, Request, Review, Repent, Resolve.  

Christ Church, Ridley Park

DioPA

Broadcast on Facebook Live  @christchurchatridleypark 

Easter 3 RCL A

Easter Like No Other

I make silly poses for the test photos
when I am prepping for a live stream alone.

Before each service these days I worry about my throat giving out. And I remind myself that my favorite singer songwriters stand up on a stage, and sing and chatter for two to three hours. So I repeat at myself: you can do this if they can. But despite current appearances to the contrary, I am not a solo performer. I don’t know how to do this. None of us know how to do this. There is something shadowy and tomb like to stand at an altar with no bread or wine, an ambry with no sacrament, a nave with no hearts or smiles or wiggles.

The disciples and friends of Jesus didn’t know how to do it either. They barely knew what it was to do. The morning light must have been harsh. Were they looking around corners? Hiding their faces? So much they didn’t know. What tumbles in their hearts is probably love and fear and anxiety and trying to ‘just getting on with the living'. That sounds familiar. Suddenly they are interrupted by something like a bold and blazing light, by a startling and world re-doing proclamation: He is not in the tomb. There has never been another Easter like that first one, and there has never been another Easter like this one. Empty church buildings across the world. Not because we quit loving Jesus - but because we love him and follow him. 

He is the heart of this day - and the why of the way that we choose to practice the day of resurrection this year. The center of Easter in Christian practice is not seersucker suits or chocolate rabbits or confetti eggs. The center of Easter is that first utterly world re-creating empty tomb. The blinding light of Easter is the most radical claim of Christian belief and practice - that Jesus who was crucified is not dead but has risen. 

The new creation is glowing and growing, but it also is shedding long shadows. We would be foolish to pretend that anything will ever be normal again. There are vile shadows that are wreaking havoc right now attacking our most vulnerable underbellies and neighbors. The cruel shades of evil won’t be vanquished because someday we will party together again. Such evil needs the masked and gloved disciples of Jesus shining lights of candor and boldly serving for truth. I want to get back to some parts of the life I once knew, I want iced espresso in hip cafes and company. Oh how I want company. Yet at the same time, I feel strangely more connected to you, even at this distance. 

We are called by Jesus in this time on this Easter day to turn, turn from shadows and selfishness rise into courage, pivot into active disciple-d responsibility for ourselves for neighbors, for strangers and for our children’s children. Thank you from the depths of sacred gratitude to everyone on the front lines. Peace be with you who are suffering, suffering the distance, or illness, or because your beloved has died. We are with you, Jesus loves you. We will do our duty because it is how we show that we love God. We are here for you. A new creation comes to life and grows, as Christ’s new body takes on flesh and blood. A universe restored, and all will sing, Alleluia. 

The first thing the believers in the risen Jesus did was not to build church buildings. Church buildings are wonderful and essential and we are quite blessed by this one. Yet the church is a people word. The church is the community of humanity in which Christ Jesus has taken flesh and blood shape. The form of the church isn’t a structure but lifegiving evidence of God in Christ resurrected right now in us. The being of the church is still alive and well and celebrating in different shape and texture. And as long as it aligns with Jesus, as long as it steadfastly practices the promises of baptism, as long as we rise up in empathetic action for strangers, we will never cease to be the church of Jesus Christ. 

Right now we are one with communities of disciples that were the closest in time to the first Easter. We are gathered in homes, proclaiming Christ as Lord, praying, singing, promising, wondering, and serving because God loved us first. We are one together with Jesus Christ because by our distancing, we are acting for all neighbors in concrete ways. This is what we have always meant when we have proclaimed that they will know we are Christians by our love. A new creation is coming to life and growing. 

Resurrection is taking on real flesh and blood in hearts and souls and hands that never thought much about who they are aligned with or what it means to be a practicing Christian. Maybe that is you? If it is, I am glad you are tuning in today. I wonder if Jesus whispering your name beside the empty tomb. We don’t have to know it all, or really know what we are doing, if it is done in the ways of love that are of God. Today we are called to hear Jesus’ voice, chase after God’s commandments, and let the Spirit of the new creation come to life in us together, even while apart. Alleluia. Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia! 

(I am playing a bit with the hymn that was sung just before the gospel).

Easter Sunday 2020  RCL A

Corona-tide

Christ Church, Ridley Park

Episcopal Diocese of Pennsylvania