New Life Episcopal Church

Wherever you are on your journey of faith, you are welcome here!
Deacon’s Dismissal

Father Hutchins

A young man, I attended the Episcopal Church where Father Hutchins was priest. One Sunday, invited to the rectory for dinner, Mrs. Hutchins opened the door. We walked toward the kitchen and there was Father Hutchins, flat on his back on the living room floor, still wearing his collar, eyes closed, listening to Mozart on…

Read the full article…

Fast Food

My parents ate once at McDonald’s. It was confusing … pay first … find table … carry food … bus table … but they allowed it wasn’t the worst meal they’d ever eaten. I ate my first fast food in California when I was 19. A day laborer, I spent a morning digging trenches for…

Read the full article…

Listening

I go to the homeless shelter to visit the men, to listen and encourage. I’ve made friends there. Last week, Ray was fuming. A new shelter rule infuriated him and someone had looted his knapsack. I listened. I encouraged … but I was an easy target. Ray seemed angry at me. I left without a…

Read the full article…

Sanctuary

Norman always sat in a pew up front. He knew the words to the hymns and the first names of most Sunday regulars. One day after the service I spoke with Norman. He said that in matters of faith, “I have more questions than I have answers.” He shared with me about his busy professional…

Read the full article…

Practice

As a boy, I took lessons on an old hand-me-down flute. Everyone told me, “Practice every day!” I most assuredly did not. Decades later, I heard a man play a flute so beautifully, so effortlessly, that I rummaged through closets, boxes and bureaus to find that old flute. Now, I am trying again. I practice…

Read the full article…

The Least

Maundy Thursday: “The disciples were keenly aware that someone needed to wash the others’ feet. The problem was that the only people who washed feet were the least. So there they sat, feet caked with dirt. It was such a sore point that they were not even going to talk about it. No one wanted…

Read the full article…

Money owed

My father, a stockbroker in the 1930’s, had a client of low repute … a hoodlum, some would say … who owed the brokerage firm money. The man came into my father’s office with two bodyguards. They closed the door and stood. “What’s this I hear? I owe you money?” Nervously pointing to the ledger,…

Read the full article…

Tangerine

We gathered around a table in the cafeteria of the men’s shelter. There were a dozen homeless men, some volunteers and a few college students. I brought tangerines and passed them around. I saw the college kid throw the tangerine. It arced across the room, hit the far wall near the trashcan and fell to…

Read the full article…

Investment

My mother was an artist. I was a boy when she won the $500.00 “Best Oil Painting” prize at the Ohio State Fair. She thought long and hard about where to invest her prize money so that, one day, she would have “a little something set aside.” Her brother was a stockbroker and he was…

Read the full article…

Fast Food

A disheveled old man sat in a booth of the fast-food joint. As I walked by he asked, “Can you help me?” I kept walking. I ordered my usual but with an extra burger. I paid and started out but stopped to ask the old man, “Hungry? Want a burger?” He looked at the burger…

Read the full article…

Loving, Learning, Serving, and Sharing our Faith