November 4, 2026

Wednesday Word . . . There Were Four of Us

At clergy conference this past August I met up with the Rev. Linda Fleming. Linda serves the people of Saint Paul's in Dixon, and she had a proposal for me.

She told me that, depending on the time of year, they will have anywhere from three to eight or nine people for worship on a Sunday. “What we want to do,” she said, “is to worship with you via your live-stream. When it comes time for Communion, I'll consecrate the elements here and then rejoin you for the post-communion prayer.”

In a time when some churches are struggling and looking for ways to build community, I thought Linda's proposal was a creative way to handle worship in the small parish of Saint Paul's.

They experimented with a few other parishes around the diocese, finally deciding to join us on a regular basis. They also work to make it as much of a “normal” worship experience as they can by participating in the congregational responses and the singing of hymns. I also know that they greatly appreciate being included by name in the Prayers of the People and greeted at the Peace.

I received an email from Linda yesterday telling me how they participated in the All Saints service by reciting the names of those in their community who died this past year while I read the names of our own departed. She also made a point to let me know that our readers “come across loud and clear and read well.”

She closed out by saying, “There were four of us last Sunday . . . I think this is an innovative way for small churches with seasonal congregations to worship.”

As we continue in the apostles' teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers, know that what we do here is having an impact well beyond our walls. And the next time you face the camera to say, “The peace of the Lord be always with you,” remember that you aren't just saying that to a nameless or possibly non-existent viewership, but that you are greeting real people who are worshiping right along with you.

Blessings,

Todd+

October 28, 2026

Wednesday Word . . . All Saints

This coming Sunday, November 1, is the Feast of All Saints. This is the day when we specifically remember that we have been knit together in one communion and fellowship with those who came before, those who are now, and those who will come after, in the mystical body of Christ.

When we think of the saints of God, we probably think of those Big S saints: people like Peter, James, John, Mary, Martha, Francis, Julian, Cecilia, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and so many others. But the saints of God are also all of those little s saints who are unknown to most people and have lived faithful lives in their generations. While unknown to us, they are certainly known to God.

This All Saints' Day will be especially meaningful for the people of Saint Luke's. Between All Saints' 2025 and 2026, we lost our fair share of saints. From Mary Fowlkes to the Eastwoods to Dale, Johnnie, and Pam, we have bid farewell to those who have passed on to the greater glory of that place where sorrow and pain are no more, but life everlasting. And while we sorrow at their passing, we can also be comforted in the knowledge that for them, life is changed, not ended.

We will also renew our baptismal covenant. We will once again promise to continue in the apostles' teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers. We will once again promise to persevere in resisting evil, to proclaim the Good News, and to seek and serve Christ in all persons. We do this on a regular basis because it can be difficult to continue to live into those promises, so we need a reminder every now and then of what we are trying to live in and up to. And what better way to honor the saints of our recent past by promising to live as they would want us to live?

The saints are not just the Big S or little s saints of the past, they live among us today. As the hymn says, “You can meet them in school, or in lanes, or at sea, in church, or in trains, or in shops, or at tea, for the saints of God are just folk like me.”

May we live in a way that honors the saints of the past, and may we live in a way that someone somewhere considers us to be a Saint of God.

Blessings,

Todd+

October 21, 2026

Wednesday Word . . . AI

I received an email from Gregory McGann of the University of Oxford yesterday morning wanting to discuss how we were using AI, and the email had a link to schedule a video call with him. After doing a little research I felt safe (as in, it wasn't a scam) to participate and I set up a time for yesterday afternoon (wanting to get this over with as soon as possible).

I am not an expert on AI, but I'm pretty sure there are at least two things I can confidently claim: 1) AI is unreliable, dishonest, and mechanistic; and, 2) AI is probably here to stay.

You can read story after story of AI giving unreliable (and sometimes downright wrong) advice, of students at all levels running search parameters through AI and turning in papers with wrong and humorous (sort of) results, of AI scrubbing the internet for information without crediting sources and/or blatantly stealing creative content, and of AI providing spiritual guidance to anyone who asks.

But as with all new technology, it's not going away. The speed with which technology is advancing is, by all accounts, moving at a pace we can't cope with.

Using AI to help install a ceiling fan is one thing (but make sure it tells you to disconnect the electricity before beginning the install). Using AI for spiritual guidance or relationship advice will ultimately be harmful to your well-being. AI will give us the answers we desire. It will give us forgiveness without repentance. It will give us the illusion of relationships without actually being in a relationship and without allowing us to mature and grow. Pope Leo has (basically) said that AI sees faith as a problem to be solved by ourselves, while faith in community allows for collective development, over time, with God and each other.

Gregory and I had a good discussion. He promised me he'd keep in contact and let me know when his research paper was published.

I suppose that, in the end, the question isn't whether or not we are using AI, the question is whether or not people are willing to do the hard work of faith building and being humanly present with each other, or if we will enter the wide gate and take the easy road that give us the answers we want to hear.

“Open the pod bay doors, HAL.”

Blessings,

Todd+

October 14, 2026

 

Wednesday Word . . . The Gift of Creation

“Instead of taking the Earth for granted, I began to see it as a gift . . .” – Jason A. Fout

I'm reading a book called, Wisdom, Knowledge, and Faith: New Essays on the Future of Theology and the Episcopal Church (I know . . . thrilling stuff). It's a series of short essays by various theologians in the church that discuss how they got into the field of theology and its importance for the people of the Episcopal church – both lay and ordained. To be honest, I'm not sure it lives up to all the accolades given on the back cover, but that's another story.

In Fout's essay, he talks about coming into the church and theology through, of all things, Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. He says that “through the absurd writing of Douglas Adams, I was able to come to imagine the world as creation,” which then led him to see all of creation as a gift of God. There is no quid pro quo in creation, there are no demands, there is only creation given as a gift.

What would happen if we, both individually and universally, actually viewed creation as a gift? Instead of seeing resources to be used solely for profit, could we begin to see resources as something to be treasured and cared for so that future generations could enjoy them? Instead of driving animals to extinction in our pursuit of land, trophies, or our insatiable appetites, could we begin to see all living things as vital to the health of the planet and work to preserve for tomorrow the gift we enjoy today?

These are but a few questions that popped into my head while reading this essay.

This coming Sunday we celebrate the Feast of Saint Luke, our patron saint. Tradition holds that he was a physician and healer. Using Luke as our anchor, can we begin to see the world as a gift from God that needs us to participate in its healing?

Blessings,

Todd+

October 7, 2026

Wednesday Word . . . Discernment

At the September Vestry meeting I brought up the topic of discernment. I reminded the Vestry that part of their job was to be looking for how the people of the parish could better use their gifts and talents. Within that context, all of us have been made “a kingdom and priests unto God,” and the parish, led by the Vestry, should be a place where everyone is supported, encouraged, and challenged to grow in the life and ministry of Christ.

As it just so happened, discernment was also a topic of conversation at Diocesan Convention. Our keynote speakers were the Rev. Nandra Perry and the Rev. John Lewis, both leaders in the Iona Collaborative (a program which should be familiar to the people of Saint Luke's), and everyone in attendance received a copy of Fr. Lewis' book Discernment in the Early Church and Today.

In that book Fr. Lewis defines discernment as, “determining the best course of action, given the situation.” Discernment can be used when determining a new career path, how we might rework our personal budget, whether or not we offer to serve on a vestry or larger church committee, how we might use our talents and skills for the benefit of the parish, or what actions a vestry might pursue. While “discernment” is most often thought of as leading to ordained ministry, it really has to do with anything in which we try to gain insight into the will and work of God in our lives and in the world.

As we come to the end of 2026 and begin to look forward to 2027, spend some time in personal discernment prayerfully considering how you can offer your gifts for the benefit of Saint Luke's and Christ. And knowing that discernment is best done in community, invite others to be part of your discernment process, either with a group of friends, fellow parishioners, or in meeting with me.

I believe the people of Saint Luke's, individually and corporately, have many gifts to share with the parish and with the people of Buffalo. May we all work to discern where God is calling us.

Blessings,

Todd+

September 30, 2026

Wednesday Word . . . Brown and Gold

Have you ever wondered about the official colors of Wyoming? Why are the WYDOT signs brown and gold? Why are the colors of the University of Wyoming brown and gold? As a newcomer to the state, I've wondered that multiple times. It seems to me that a better color scheme could have been chosen, as brown and gold just seem kind of . . . blah.

Joelene and I went to Cody last weekend for the funeral of Bishop Bob Jones. Bishop Jones served Wyoming from 1977 – 1996, after which he became dean of St. George’s College in the Diocese of Jerusalem and, later, became assisting bishop of Cyprus and the Gulf.

We all know this part of the country has been experiencing drought-like conditions, and this year in particular has been difficult with hardly any rain and no snow pack to speak of. But we are now moving into fall. We've had some rain, and temperatures are starting to drop, especially at night where, at least a my house, we are seeing overnight temperatures in the mid-40's. And if you haven't noticed, leaves are beginning to change.

On the drive over to Cody, and again on the drive home, every so often we'd round a corner to be met with a shock of gold in the midst of a grove of trees. Not all of them had turned, just a small copse surrounded by the larger grove. I remember seeing one particular set of trees framed by the brown rocks and dirt of the mountainside that really caught my attention. We drove on, but I thought about that particular view and then it hit me . . . THAT's why the official colors of Wyoming are brown and gold. Instead of being a strange choice of colors, they reflect the beauty of Wyoming in autumn.

People can be the same way. Sometimes we can't see a person's true colors until we happen to catch them in a particular situation. Sometimes it takes us a little while to see why those colors are the way they are. But if we keep our eyes open, we just might find beauty where we missed it before.

Blessings,

Todd+

September 16, 2026

Wednesday Word . . . Living Water

Joelene and I spent some time listening to Braiding Sweetgrass, a book by Robin Wall Kimmerer. If you haven't read (or listened to) this book, you probably should. It's not a novel, but a slow moving reflection by the author on creation, ecological consciousness, and a reciprocal relationship with the rest of the living world.

One of the problems (for me) of listening to a book is that I can't mark page numbers of things that catch my attention; and, unless I make a note of something right then, it's left to memory. With that in mind, there was a sentence she wrote while talking about water that went something like this: “We are all water, and water flows away from us.”

I got to thinking about that and the implications of that statement.

Living water is water that is moving. It flows from one point to another. It can be the soft gurgle of a slow moving stream or it can be the roar of a thundering waterfall. It can be as small as a local creek or as vast as the ocean current. It is that living water, water that moves away from its source, that touches and nourishes an untold number of lives. Just think about the Mississippi River and how it impacts the lives of plants, animals, and humans, as it flows into the Gulf of Mexico.

At a time when water in our area is in short supply, we are very aware of the need for living water.

On another level, we are also very aware of the world's need for the living water of Christ.

Jesus told the woman at the well, “The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” (John 4:14b). The living water of Christ is meant to gush up within us. The living water of Christ is meant to flow out and away from us as it nourishes the world.

A funny thing about water – if it doesn't flow away and out, it simply gathers, stagnates, and becomes undrinkable. This is what happens with the Dead Sea, water flows in but not out. We are the same way. If all we do is collect without passing on, without sharing, we will also stagnate and die.

In the poem “Lester” by Shel Silverstein (found in the book, Where the Sidewalk Ends), Lester was granted a wish. With that wish he slyly wished for more wishes until one day, having grown old, he died. “In a world of apples and kisses and shoes, He wasted his wishes on wishing.”

Let us not live like Lester, but let us live with our wishes and the living water of Christ flowing out from us to nourish the world.

Blessings,