Every Sunday, we end the same way: 'Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.' We mean it. Vestry service is one of the places the church actually prepares you to do that, inside the parish and far beyond it.

Most of us walk right past them. The flowers on the altar, the person who placed them, the hours of quiet work behind what you see on Sunday morning. That's a ministry. And it deserves to be named.

The parking lot has space. The choir is down to six. The coffee hour is a box of store-bought cookies. But the people who show up in August when they could be at the beach? Those are my people!

It's not easy to hear "no." It changes our mindset and even the narrative we have of ourselves. "No" also isn't easy to say, but it's the best answer to give. How do you handle "no" when you hear it?

My mom sat on a chair in the pew of Trinity, looked at the bulletin, and asked: “They tell you what to pray too?” It’s a fair question. Here’s what I told her, eventually.

I'm not a cradle Episcopalian. I was brought up in a denomination that values (among other things) navigating the bible and memorizing scripture. Yet, here I am with a bulletin in my hand on Sundays. This article is an interesting one from The Average Episcopalian.

Church happens in the perish hall, too. substack.com/@pewnote/not...

The metal folding chair has been in that parish hall for about fifty years. It has held a lot of people through a lot of things. The coffee is always a little too hot or not quite hot enough. People drink it anyway. Because they’re staying. Church is in the parish hall, too. #Episcopal

The Original Fire Service I spent 25 years in fire service. We had job descriptions. The disciples didn't. They walked out of that upper room filled with something they couldn't explain, speaking to people they hadn't planned for. Pentecost was everyone's first day. It still is.

Every parish has a version of this: The thing visitors find weird and members couldn't imagine giving up. That's often where the actual church lives. Trinity, Hartford has the most robust passing of the peace. Note: quirk vs. action that hurts. One builds community. The other tears it down.

I was going to post about how good it feels to know that God is good. All the time. I also know that same phrase distances me from people who don't always feel God's love.

The ministry nobody calls ministry: the phone call to check in, the errand you ran because someone needed it, the showing up when you’d rather not. That’s real work. That’s sometimes what holds everything together.

The church picked up a quiet idea over time: that a real calling means becoming ordained. Some laypeople carry that around without even realizing it. But it's just not true. This week’s note is about the vocation you already carry.

I'm just starting out and look forward to sharing more on lay leadership and discernment, hoping that people will be inspired to do more, even without a collar! open.substack.com/pub/pewnote

Can clergy wellness in a parish happen without equipping lay leaders in the ministries of formation, pastoral care, preaching, and church leadership?

I didn’t trust my spiritual gifts for years. Not because I wasn’t capable, but because nobody had asked me about them. Once someone named what I could offer, everything shifted. Still learning to believe it.

The Monday after my first Sunday at Trinity, Hartford, the priest emailed asking about my spiritual gifts. Nobody had asked before. Most of you haven't been asked either. Now I ask. Maybe you should too.