Stories from Province VI

J.D. Barnes, Storyteller

By Rachel K. Hindery

By the time he had made a 1,400-mile journey from Alabama to South Dakota, Reverend J.D. Barnes had learned that a new destination could be a blessing.

After having multiple church homes growing up, J.D. discovered a distinctly Episcopal faith in college, where he met his wife, a lifelong Episcopalian.

After seminary and ordination and serving one congregation for 12 years, J.D. recognized another need for newness. “I needed to be stirred up,” he said. “I needed to have a change.”

So, they left Alabama and headed to Rapid City, S.D., where they went to the real estate office and “signed on the dotted line to buy a house that we had never been in before,” J.D. said.

Making Connections

The climate difference – exchanging the “mugginess and bugginess” of a Southern summer for a snowy, frigid South Dakota winter didn’t phase J.D., either. “I kind of like the colder weather, actually,” he said.

J.D. was making connections with the locals even before he and his family moved in, inviting a hotel receptionist and most of the other people he met to church.  

“I want to find out where they’re from and what their hobbies are; what they like and don’t like; what kind of church tradition they had, and all kinds of things about who they are,” he said.

Because even if “you get turned down more than my bed sheets,” knowing and inviting is who J.D. is – “I’m a talker and a Southerner,” – and knowing who one is and what brings one joy is vital to the church’s present and future.

Faith in Action

“If you have outreach ministries and nobody shows up to ladle the soup out, or nobody shows up to hand out the clothes or the hygiene kits it doesn’t happen,” J.D. said.

It’s something that J.D. calls a “ministry of presence” and “faith in action,” and part of J.D.'s priestly vocation is nurturing folks in discerning their own ways to serve, as well as providing “encouragement and tools that they need to be successful in what they want to do.”

“People seem to be kind of reluctant to have the idea that they might have talent,” J.D. said, but “if God is calling you to a ministry, you’re not bragging about it by seeking it out.”

Bring Them In

When some youth members asked J.D. if they could be acolytes, he provided training, but also made sure they could participate in an acolyte festival in Washington, D.C., adding that the festival was the first time traveling outside of the state for some of these young acolytes.

“You have to look for new people and embrace them in terms of finding ways to bring them in, help give them the narrative of how this has been done, and let them get involved and feel like they’re part of something bigger,” J.D. said.

“It doesn’t really matter who you are,” he added. “If you want to try to love Christ and follow Christ, then you can be a Christian.”

In serving a multicultural congregation, where many members are of Lakota or European descent, focusing on what unites people while respecting each culture is a way to build up “leaders in the church to come,” J.D. said.

Sitting at the Table

You also “have to be able to try to tell people what you think is the truth,” he added, and J.D. found himself advocating for the importance of in-person worship shortly after arriving at his new congregation in July 2020 when the pandemic was changing every part of life.

“In-person worship facilitates relationships between people,” J.D. said. “It facilitates community and it facilitates Eucharist.”

The Book of Common Prayer, one of the things J.D. especially loves about the Episcopalian tradition, is read communally. 

Such communion is a way Episcopalians can lead in a time when disagreement sometimes causes a breaking of relationships.

“You can like what you like, and you can cite references about why you like whatever it is, but we can still get along,” J.D. said. “We can sit next to you.” 

That, to J.D., is diluted online. “It’s not the same as sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee with somebody talking about things going on,” he said.

For Good

When J.D. began at his new congregation, a common question was “why South Dakota?” That’s something he said only God knows fully – “I think that God puts us where we don’t always know why.”

Perhaps change itself is one of those reasons. “People, Episcopalians in particular, don’t typically like change that much,” J.D. said. “They like the comfort of doing the same thing over and over again. That’s part of the idea of ritual worship.”

Church traditions can bring people into one community, and then out into all the communities that each person calls home.

After worship, J.D. said he hopes people can say “I felt like I was close to God, and I was close to some friends, and close to some people that I don’t really necessarily like either, but it’s OK. They’re doing their thing, and I’m going to do mine, and hopefully it’s all going to be for good.”

Ward Simpson, Storyteller

By: Rachel K. Hindery

As Sioux Falls, S.D., citizens prepare for the winter holidays, they’re invited to receive the gift of music. 

Advent songs – performed by the Cathedral Choir, professional soloists, and the Dakota String Quartet – resound through Calvary Cathedral, and the Very Reverend Ward Simpson has “the best seat in the house.”

As Calvary’s dean, “I get to officiate at it, which means I'm sitting right in the middle of the floor with this music happening all around me,” Dean Simpson said.

Each year, the concert is “a great gift to the community,” he added. “It's not done because it raises money, because it doesn't, it costs us money to do but that's okay. It's a part of who we are, and it's part of what we're known for.”

Who We Are

“When I see a community that's living into its gifts, I expect to see more joy, more energy, more enthusiasm,” Fr. Simpson said, and those gifts are best discovered together. 

“I don't think it's possible for anybody to do discernment on their own, because they aren't on their own,” he said. “They're always connected with others.”

“The role of the community is to be that sounding board to reflect back and to give you honest feedback,” Dean Simpson added. 

Fr. Simpson describes worship as “community with God” – and it is an important part of any Episcopal community and one way to learn and practice integrity, forgiveness, and love.

Worship “helps us to understand who we are,” Dean Simpson said. “It helps us to understand each of us as individuals, who I am. It helps us to understand who God is.”

With more than thirty years of ordained ministry, Fr. Simpson has worshiped through the three-year lectionary cycle eleven times and, “there are times when I read these scriptures and prepare for a sermon when it feels absolutely fresh and new,” Dean Simpson said. “It hasn't changed, but I have. I'm now in a different place. My congregation is in a different place.”

Shared Experiences

During one marriage preparation session, the couple realized that many invitees were also part of the congregation.  A meaningful option was to honor the couple’s request for the wedding ceremony to be part of the Sunday morning Eucharist.  

If a Sunday morning wedding is rare, it’s fitting, Fr. Simpson said, as worship is a way “to build that trust, to help us to have shared experiences of the sacred, to be there for one another in the moments of greatest joy and greatest pain.” 

The Episcopal Book of Common Prayer recognizes this in its vows for milestones like baptism, confirmation, marriage, and ordination. 

“The vow is never made in isolation,” Dean Simpson said. “It's always made in the context of community, and the community always says, ‘yes, we're going to support you.’”

A Ministry of Hospitality

That support takes many forms, and “I've always found the times in my life when I've been ministered to the most profoundly has radically changed how I do ministry,” Fr. Simpson said.

For example, after a hospitalization he realized that shorter pastoral visits may be more beneficial, helping the patient conserve limited energy.

Supporting each other is “really a ministry of hospitality,” Dean Simpson said, “being ready to take that step to care for others.” All gifts are welcomed.

When Fr. Ward’s wife, Barb, was diagnosed with breast cancer, the congregation came alongside his family for months. 

There were meals, a “constant trickle of cards – she’s got a stack about 18 to 20 inches tall,” and the assurance that Dean Simpson should take as much time with his family as needed.

A church elder began piecing a star quilt the day she learned of Barb’s diagnosis, and finished it at the most difficult time in Barb’s treatment.  

The Lakota priest who delivered the star quilt to Barb in the hospital “didn’t just give it to her,” Fr. Simpson said, “he wrapped her up in it, and it was the prayers of the whole community wrapped around her.” 

Dean Simpson said Barb is now seven years into her survival and preparing for ordination as a deacon.

Companionship

“Part of the joy of the life of faith in the church is that we have that community to fall back on in good times and in bad,” Fr. Simpson said. 

Both prayer and fellowship are connected to the word “companion” to the dean – “literally the word means ‘with bread’” and “in our worship, God is generous enough to provide us the bread.”

The Eucharist is an act of abundance, and congregational members extend their companionship to the larger, urban Sioux Falls community through a program that meets people’s immediate needs by providing food, gas vouchers, and other necessities.

Many of the recipients only come once, Fr. Simpson said, adding that a gift such as a gas voucher can mean the difference between someone being able to commute to work and potentially losing income from a job and falling further behind.

“By providing that $10 or $15 worth of gas at that critical moment, we tide them over,” Dean Simpson said. “We wrap ourselves around them and at the same time treat them with dignity and respect and care.”

Telling our Stories

These are significant stories and are shared with the congregation – because the story is essential. “We are natural storytellers,” Fr. Simpson said. “We are human beings. Even the most introverted of us still tell our stories, and it’s in the telling of those stories that we make connections.”

Stories can connect across culture and time, and connect us to God’s story, where peril is always met with promise. Whether sung, spoken, quilted, written, or gifted, we participate in a universal story and “it’s in telling those stories that we re-member,” Simpson said.

Bob Henry, Storyteller

By: Rachel K. Hindery

Stained glass windows have welcomed generations of worshipers to St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in Hot Springs, S.D. 

“Those windows are original and they were all donated by different individuals,” Junior Warden Bob Henry said. “I don’t know what kind of value you could place on them. They’re irreplaceable.” 

Using his tablet computer, Bob created a video of the windows and an inventory of other items, placing them in a safe in the church office. 

Tradition and Change

Honoring St. Luke’s past and present while discerning its future is part of Bob’s vocation, and something he’s embraced, even as his position came as a surprise – “I noticed in the bulletin that I became junior warden,” he said with a laugh.

“I’ve been on the vestry, I’ve been to conventions,” and “I took the job seriously,” Bob said. In a “little congregation – they barely have 10 people there at any one time” where members in their 60s are the “young whippersnappers,” volunteers like Bob make worship possible.

St. Luke’s supply priest is retired, and makes a 30-mile commute to serve. Their deacon, who prepares the Eucharist, is a volunteer.

Still, Bob said members find comfort in each other and in cherished traditions. Some members drive from outside of Hot Springs to attend. Meetings are opportunities to socialize. The service and prayers are consistent, and “if the people who are there find that comfort, that’s fine.”

As a junior warden, Bob has made physical changes, like adding accessible parking when a bishop noticed the need. “From a disability point of view, there should be a place where people would be able to park,” Bob said.

He’s also interested in trying other changes, such as new prayers. “There are other ways of doing church, and the prayer book is just part of that flexible focus,” Bob said.

“Tradition is fine,” Bob added. “There’s nothing wrong with tradition, but we don’t live two thousand years ago. Culture has changed.”

Local and National

For Bob, reaching and bringing in new members is as essential as caring for current ones. “How does the church attract people who have enough interest in the church to actually support it with money?” he asked.

The answer is complex, but may involve both fully participating in the local community and  connecting to “all the resources at the national level.” 

If communities have church directories, that’s one way to communicate, Bob said. “Officers should maybe join a group like Kiwanis, Rotary or the Lions, which are the three principal groups,” he added.

“Why?” Bob continued, “because they have speakers every week.” Meeting local chamber of commerce members is another idea Bob gave for how churches can learn about needs and opportunities.

“I try to be proactive, and I’m aware of what the diocese in South Dakota does,” Bob said. “I look at their website. I’m aware of what the national church’s website is about.” 

Bob added that he reads articles from the Episcopal News Service and follows videos from the Diocese of South Dakota’s YouTube channel.

Developing a small library in each congregation is one way for members to learn – and discern – spiritual topics alone and together.

Advocacy is available to anyone with an internet connection through Action Alerts. This is a ministry of the Episcopal Church’s Office of Government Relations. “There’s an easy way to do that,” Bob said. “You just sign up for the action alerts. They do everything for you, they even write a letter for you.”

Action Alerts provide people a way to contact their government representatives and share an Episcopal perspective on domestic and foreign policies.

Preserving and growing the church, and considering and implementing the changes needed to do so “comes from the bottom and it also comes from the top,” Bob said. “We have to take the responsibility to make that happen.”

Since 1902, St. Luke’s has been part of the Hot Springs community and part of the global Episcopal community. “The Episcopal Church is what I know,” Bob said, “and this is what I see.”

Joseph Pageer Alaak, Storyteller

By: Rachel K. Hindery

The Reverend Joseph Pageer Alaak first heard of God’s love and care as a child in an Ethiopian refugee camp. “There was a lot of empowerment in the message that we heard from the Church and the songs they taught and learning about God as protector,” he said. 

More than 35 years later, he stood in the sanctuary at St. Martha’s Episcopal Church in Papillion, Nebraska during his ordination, singing in Dinka, his first language.

Part of the song asks God “to bless the elders and to keep the elders healthy, so that the elders teach us what they know, and so that the young generation will partake of it,” Joseph said.

Two Languages, One Grace

At St. Martha’s, an English-language congregation worships on Sunday mornings and a Dinka-language congregation worships on Sunday afternoons. “Our congregations grow together through our work of love in Jesus Christ,” Joseph said.

That love is shared through meals which include Midwestern American and South Sudanese cuisine, and through combined worship a few times each year. For one such service, Joseph translated the well-known Anglican hymn, Amazing Grace, from English to Dinka.

Children from age two to third graders learn the language of faith from the Godly Play curriculum in Dinka.

There are English as a Second Language classes for adults, and Dinka language classes where people of all cultures are welcome and faith is centered.

“I see myself being the young person that was taught,” Joseph said. “Now, I’m the person teaching the same word.”

Songs of Faith

Joseph lived the earliest part of his life in a Dinka farming community in what is now South Sudan. There was sorghum, maize and beans; chicken, goats, sheep and cattle.

In 1987, in the midst of the Second Sudanese Civil War, attacks on civilian communities meant Joseph had to flee his home with other children – a 1,000-mile journey on foot from Sudan to Ethiopia.

Anglican missionaries in the Ethiopian refugee camp shared the Gospel using music and movement. 

“I admire dancing; I admire songs,” Joseph said. “I spent my time with other people, learning the songs.” A year after arriving at the camp, “three thousand children were baptized in one day, and I was among them.”

Music and faith was a solace. “It helped me from getting too bored,” Joseph said, adding that in the camp “there was also hunger; people got sick.”

War disrupted Joseph’s life a second time in 1992, when civil war in Ethiopia forced refugees to flee to a larger Kenyan refugee camp.

Joseph learned English from teachers in an outdoor school. “We were learning under the trees,” he said. “We were using charcoal because there was no stationery.” 

Church services, which Joseph said included between 1,000 and 3,000 people, were also held outdoors, and Joseph added that there are more than 600 hymns in Dinka.

Hearing God in Our Own Language 

In 2001, a program between the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and the United States government led Joseph to resettlement in Nebraska, first in Omaha. 

Nonprofit organizations, many of them associated with religious denominations, assisted in the resettlement process.

People in the churches “were the first people to rise up and say, ‘how can we help you,’” Joseph said. This was essential as Joseph and other refugees adapted to an environment where everything from how to shop and take transportation to where to live was different.

Amidst such rapid change, “it was critically important for us to gather and worship in our own language; sing songs in our own language; read the Bible in our own language,” Joseph said.

“When we came here and we didn’t have a Dinka service, it was a big loss,” he added. “There were opportunities to get a job and go to school, but we were losing a lot of our faith; a lot of our identity.”

Service, and a Bridge

“My Episcopal faith in exile and in refugee camps in Africa fueled me to follow God’s works and seek a relationship with the faithful Episcopal community” in the United States, Joseph said.

He reached out to the Diocese of Nebraska, asking for opportunities for the Dinka community to pray and gather together. Joseph said that outreach led to two Dinka services in Nebraska – one in Omaha and one in Lincoln. 

Along with church services, Joseph also began a sewing program where women could gather, creating clothing that would then be donated to people living in South Sudan or in refugee camps. 

Joseph described it as “a social time,” where women from the Dinka and English-language communities could meet.

Women in the Dinka community could also learn about different gender norms in the United States. For example, “in South Sudan, it is not easy for women to speak loudly in public,” Joseph said.

“My life is enriched every time I observe the Dinka community gathering and working toward a common goal,” he said. “Knowing that they are learning and growing in faith motivated me to do more for my Dinka congregations.”

A Family in Faith

Joseph kept ministering among the Dinka Episcopal community, leading to new opportunities and connections.

Families, once they were established in the United States, grew as they sponsored relatives from South Sudan, who then immigrated. Their children had only known life in the United States, and were more familiar with the English language than with Dinka. 

By teaching Dinka to youth, “they will be able to know their identity; to be able to worship and to know something in their language,” Joseph said.

He smiles hearing the young learners speak Dinka with English accents, but also, “I noticed how hard they tried and how difficult it was for them to learn a foreign language that they actually accepted as their mother language.”

Joseph earned a bachelor’s degree in business from Bellevue University in Nebraska, considering a secular career before seeking ordination and full-time ministry.

“My call became very clear in 2012 when I went back to South Sudan in December,” Joseph said. “I went to the refugee camp where my mom was, and within two weeks of my time going there, my mom passed away.”

His mother had been a lay reader, which Joseph described as the highest church position before women were ordained in the Sudanese Anglican Church. Joseph added that his sister, Tabitha Adhieu Alaak, is ordained as a priest in the Episcopal Church of South Sudan.

In addition to serving at St. Martha’s, Joseph was elected to serve on a taskforce as a representative from Province VI, ensuring that the church continues to extend its welcome to South Sudanese-American Episcopalians.

Many Communities, One Community

At St. Martha’s, Joseph’s goal is to “fully merge into this community and be one community in a way of worship; in a way of service; in a way of doing things together; but keeping an identity.”

Many of those activities center on youth, from summer camps to singing and playing instruments like drums, piano and guitar. “I will translate the Dinka songs to English, and we can learn that,” he said. “We can also learn how to dance.”

“If we do a little fun worshiping, children will have interest in coming to church,” Joseph added. “And, if children come to church, their parents will also be part of that. That is a part of my vision.”

Joseph said he hopes to expand bilingual programs, events, and community outreach, because “I believe that if I continue to bridge the Dinka and English congregations, both congregations will benefit from their rich cultures.”

In the future, Joseph said he dreams of returning to South Sudan to open a mission school for girls. “It will take education so that women can learn,” he said. “Women can compete at the highest levels. Women can be choice leaders.”

If some members from St. Martha’s travel there with him, Joseph anticipates that they’d be welcomed, because “if you know a few words in Dinka or songs in Dinka and you go to South Sudan, you will be amazed.”

“It’s a long road to come from, and there’s a long road to go as one community,” Joseph said, but one thing that has been true for Joseph on his road until now is that “worshiping the good Lord in Dinka makes my soul rejoice.”

John Andrews, Storyteller

By: Rachel K. Hindery

They may appear ordinary at first glance, but looking at his living room, John Andrews knows that “I’ve got two special things here – my prayer shawl and my recliner.” 

“When I was going through a really hard time medically quite a few years ago now,” members at Holy Trinity Episcopal Church in Lincoln, Nebraska made the shawl. “Everybody prayed over it when it was presented,” John said.

For John, his prayer shawl can’t be fully described in words. It’s something that’s experienced, and “it just means a lot to me. It’s just there to remember the church, and how they supported me during that time.”

Centered in Christ

John’s recliner is where he does centering prayer, twice each day. “You take twenty minutes and you just try to empty your mind and allow the Holy Spirit to touch you,” John said. 

“Now, there’s always going to be thoughts coming through your mind, but you try not to focus on them; try not to entertain them,” he added. “When you find yourself becoming engaged in a thought, you simply say the sacred word, and that helps to break up the thought.”

John said he learned about centering prayer from the Incarnation Monastery, an Episcopal monastery in Omaha, Nebraska where John is an oblate candidate.

Centering prayer, too, can be more deeply felt than described. “When I’m done, I just feel so good,” John said. “My wife can even tell you it has changed my behavior, and it’s allowed me to focus more on being Christ-like.”

Everything from watching the news to driving on the interstate is more manageable when you “remain calm and just go through it, without reacting, and then move forward,” John said.

Even choosing a sacred word for centering prayer was unforced. After praying with three different words, John found one that just felt right, and meaningful to him. 

As “a cradle Episcopalian,” attending “the same church that I was baptized in,” Holy Trinity Episcopal Church in Lincoln, Nebraska also still feels right and meaningful to John.

Not that it hasn’t changed. “It’s obviously changed a lot since 1954, but so have I,” John said with a smile.

Faith in Action

Church activities, both at Incarnation Monastery and Holy Trinity, are a weekly part of John’s life, whether it’s volunteering at the Benedictine Way Food Pantry at the Church of the Resurrection next to the monastery or attending Sunday worship at Holy Trinity.

When John noticed a change in himself, he messaged his priest. “I was just feeling like I’ve had so much teaching – oh my gosh, so much teaching,” John said. “And, I needed to take action.”

That’s how John got involved with Justice in Action, which he describes as an ecumenical group in Lincoln and Lancaster County. 

“We hold listening sessions every year to see what's keeping people up at night,” John said. “From those listening sessions, there are maybe three or four things that rise to the top.”

Justice in Action members then decide on practical, research-tested solutions and encourage government representatives to agree to implement solutions to the problems that were identified. 

In 2024, Justice in Action focused on pretrial diversion, mental health access and pre-eviction mediation.

When John first let his priest know about his desire, his priest mentioned that other religious leaders and himself had been meeting for almost a year to pray about establishing a justice ministry in Lincoln and Lancaster County. 

Since then, about 15 people from Holy Trinity are involved with this organization, and John is one of two team leaders in his church. He also serves on the Justice in Action board, on its executive committee, and on its Affordable Housing Committee.

John noticed that the Episcopal Church’s Baptismal Covenant specifically mentions “striving for justice and peace,” and he said he enjoys opportunities to learn about and live into that covenant in ways that fit his unique gifts.

Inside and Outside of Church Walls

Occasionally, even the prayer shawl on John’s recliner doesn’t stay in place. “It’s always there, unless it slides off the back, and then I’ve gotta put it on again,” he said with a laugh.

In John’s life, and at Holy Trinity, there are times when a change prompts something else to be rearranged.

Coffee hour is one of John’s favorite parts of church. “I try to talk to different people each Sunday,” he said. “We get to know each other, and it’s a time of friendship and community.”

Church renovations mean that one area of Holy Trinity will be redesigned to “make it sort of like a coffee shop.”

At first, “I thought, ‘oh, man, I hate this,’” John said. The priest explained that younger people like to sit around, have coffee and talk, and that they might prefer the new space to coffee hour in the parish hall.

“And I thought, OK, that’s a good idea,” John said. “I think it’s more than young people that like to sit around and talk. I think it’s everybody.”

Another renovation will add a smaller chapel to the side of the main sanctuary. “It would become an easy place to come in the middle of the day and pray in a nice, intimate, small area instead of a huge sanctuary,” John said, while offering a new meeting place for smaller groups.

A growing youth ministry is replacing the large rummage sales of the past, and “part of this renovation of the church and changing things is also to make church attractive to the children and youth,” John said.

Youth assist with the readings; a child with a small, wooden cross leads other children out for “children’s chapel,” before “they come back in during the Peace so they’re there for the Eucharist,” John said.

“In the past, they grow up and they leave,” he added. “We’re hoping that more of them will stay.”

Some, like John, might stay, leave for a time, and then return. “When I hit junior high, ‘I’m not going to church,’ right?” he said. “And I didn’t. Then, I came back.”

From involving youth in painting houses to community cleanups and food pantry volunteer opportunities, John said Holy Trinity is skilled at “reaching out to the children and youth in our neighborhood” at the same time as they’re extending welcome to those already in the church.

“That’s how you keep people,” he said. “You make it real. You give them a purpose.” The goal goes beyond more people attending Holy Trinity – “we’re taking the church outside the church walls.”

“We want to be that shining light on the hill,” John said. “And we want to minister to people.” 

By: Rachel K. Hindery

As the congregation gathered for St. Augustine Episcopal Church’s first Christmas service, there were still reminders that the sanctuary had once been a barn. “When the bishop came in during the early years of the church, he had to hang his vestments up where there was still horse tackle,” Sandra Squires said.

Originally a small town, Elkhorn, Neb., is now considered a suburban community west of Omaha.  A “beautiful building addition” to St Augustine’s in 2021 created new spaces to worship, educate and gather, but Sandra said St. Augustine retains its “small town” feel.

Intentional Welcome

One entrance at St. Augustine leads to the narthex. The other leads directly into the fellowship hall “You can’t even get in our building without being welcomed,” Sandra said. 

It’s a place, she said, where people can bring their friends, and where families grow. “If you’re new, most of us who are just curious will go over to you,” Sandra added. 

Even though another Episcopal church is a block away from her home, Sandra has been making the 16 mile drive to St. Augustine since the 1990s. 

“I have developed very close friends and people that I’m spiritually close to,” she said. “We’ve done things together. We’ve registered people to vote and gone through Sacred Ground together.”

Sacred Ground, a program for Episcopal churches and other faith-based organizations, is a guided dialogue series about race, racism and racial reconciliation. 

This program is just one of the ways people at St. Augustine deepen their relationship with God and with one another. 

Little Communities 

At any church, “a good preacher helps,” and Sandra said she enjoys the sermons at St. Augustine, and how the priest makes connections to the culture, tradition, and personal experience. Sandra added that she even takes notes on the sermons.

During coffee hour, “everybody catches up on their lives,” Sandra said. “It’s not a debriefing of the sermon. It's the social connection.”

Church members include “families of all different ages,” and “we have families,” Sandra said, “but we also have people who don’t have blood families but have developed their own community.” 

“We have these little communities” as people talk with others who share their stories and their interests, Sandra said, “and then we have people like me who like to float around and see everybody, because I want to know what’s going on.”

The St. Augustine community is also there for each other during some of the most difficult times in life. Sandra gave an example of a family who had an adult child die by suicide, and “people gathered around them and gave them good support.” 

Good to Be There

There are ample activities at St. Augustine, from a men’s Bible study to a book club that Sandra said has been going on “almost as long as the church is old.”

While providing more opportunities for socialization, these groups have some of the behind-the-scenes roles that enhance worship, from choir members to participants in Daughters of the King (DOK), who assist with the prayer list.

Daughters of the King is an order for women primarily in the Episcopal and Anglican traditions but can also include Evangelical Lutheran Church of America (ELCA) or Roman Catholic women. DOK key tenets are prayer, service and evangelism.

St. Augustine’s priest knows – and shows appreciation for – each group, greeting each one individually. “It makes you feel like it’s OK to be there. It’s a good thing to be there.”

Finding Your Vocation

Education for Ministry (EfM) is where Sandra has found her place and her leadership within the church. This Episcopal Church program brings small groups together for four years of theological study, and there’s “an emphasis in EfM on finding your vocation,” Sandra said.

About 30 years after completing her EfM training, she was asked by the Bishop to coordinate this program for the Episcopal Diocese of Nebraska.

“The people who are in EfM develop a bond amongst themselves,” Sandra said. “It also gives them some grounding to say ‘I can be part of a spiritual community; I can learn; I can grow in my walk with Christ,’ but at the same time take those skills back to their churches.”

Sandra’s continued involvement in EfM was part of “a growth process,” she said. “I had absorbed those tools, reflectively and theologically.”

“You develop the ability to look at the world and see what’s happening, and see that through a theological lens,” Sandra added.

There’s a quarterly online book club for the Diocese, which alternates between women and men authors and is “targeted to EfM grads who want to do some continuing education,” Sandra said. “It’s always around a spiritual theme or spiritual practice, or somebody’s history.”

There’s also a Zoom EfM option, “designed for churches that didn’t have a critical mass to host EfM,” – another way Sandra said this program is accessible to anyone who wants to participate. Rural communities may especially benefit from this option.

Here to Educate, Here to Learn

Sandra developed half-day virtual and hybrid EfM events, beginning in February,  2021 during the COVID-19 pandemic. 

“When it became apparent that it had to be on Zoom, we did the first one on ‘how do you maintain your connection to church during a time when you can’t gather,’” she said.

Anyone can sign up to attend Zoom events, even if they’re not part of the EfM community, and Sandra added that suggested donations are made to The Benedictine Way, an urban monastery in Omaha.

The 2024 program, “Living Beyond a Binary God: Stories and Challenges of our Trans Neighbors,” attracted a national audience.

Since this was a hybrid event, “I put a capacity for 100 and I had people on the waiting list,” Sandra said. People who were unable to attend in person attended individually or held watch parties. 

In total, approximately 112 people attended in person or remotely, from Nebraska, Colorado, Mississippi, Pennsylvania, Virginia and Wyoming.

A survey of attendees showed that hearing personal stories from people who are transgender, and family members of people who are transgender, was the most effective part. All survey respondents said their personal goals had been met through attending this event.

Before and during the event, Sandra worked with others at St. Augustine to maintain a respectful atmosphere. “We are here to educate, we are here to learn, and all of us will only learn if we can do that in a safe environment,” she said.

The February 2025 EfM hybrid event focuses on caregivers and financial stewardship. “The vocation of ‘caregiver’ falls on so many,” Sandra said. The 2025 event is called, “Caring for a Loved One with Memory Loss: Team Building & Financial Planning” and will be held on February 15.

It’s just another way St. Augustine nurtures those within and beyond its walls. “You have the ability to reach outside your family and have other friendship groups, but your family is what you always come back to,” she said.

“That’s what it feels like at our church,” Sandra added. “You don’t always have to see them all the time, but you know that they’re there.”

By: Rachel K. Hindery

 For more than a century, extending welcome has been central to ministry at the Episcopal Church of Our Savior in North Platte, Nebraska. 

 “When there was a strong Greek Orthodox population here, they turned over their guild hall to the Orthodox for their worship services,” the Reverend Steve Meysing said.

 In the 1950s, Steve added, a Japanese Episcopal church “combined with Our Savior, and we became one of the first multiracial congregations.”

 When a new visitor arrived, they continued to show hospitality. Steve was that new visitor, and nine years later, he accepted a call to be Our Savior’s rector.

 An Answer to an Unspoken Prayer

 Growing up in “a very ecumenical family” showed Steve how to “recognize the commonalities and not get fixated on the differences.”

 “We had no rancor; it was just accepted – they’re Catholic, they’re Lutheran, they’re Methodist, they’re this, they’re that,” he said. “We just enjoyed the mosaic.”

 Steve was ordained in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) and is still on the ELCA roster. The ELCA is one of the denominations that is a full communion partner with the Episcopal Church.

 Sixteen years after his ordination, Steve was working in Nebraska as an assistant to the ELCA bishop, a role that is similar to a canon to the ordinary in the Episcopal Church, and living in North Platte.  

 “I’m a Benedictine oblate, and one of the Benedictine values is stability,” Steve said. “I realized that after almost five years of being assistant to the bishop I had very little sense of stability.” “I was on the road and in a different church almost every Sunday.”

 “I could never be totally off work when there was a Sunday to be at the local Lutheran church where I was a member,” Steve said. 

 “I was always seen as ‘Pastor Steve, assistant to the bishop’, and expected to listen to and deal with problems on my day off. I seldom got to go to worship and be fed or refreshed,” he added.

 Then, St. John’s Episcopal Church in Valentine, Nebraska, needed a pastor to offer the Eucharist at least once each month. He told the canon to the ordinary that he’d help out for a few months, until a new priest could be found.

 As a smaller church with average attendance of 10 or 12, “they were always appreciative, kind, generous, and trusted their supply priest,” Steve said, and “the more I went, the more I fell in love with the congregation, the worship service; just their whole way of being church.”

 Steve described it as both an opportunity to “stay rooted in parish ministry so I didn’t lose my perspective on the people I served as assistant to the bishop” and “a refreshing change” from the conflict situations to which he responded as part of his role as assistant to the bishop.

 “I think that was God’s answering some prayers that I didn’t even have words for,” Steve said. “I’ve always felt my call was parish ministry, in spite of invitations to do other things or study for other things over the years.”

 Embraced, Welcomed and Respected

 As part of the state’s Rural Development Commission, Steve met people from across Nebraska, including one who worshiped at Episcopal Church of Our Savior.  When Steve moved to North Platte, “kitty corner from my church office is the Episcopal church.”

 He recalled the chair of the Rural Development Commission, two years before his move to North Platte, inviting him to Church of Our Savior: “If you ever get a Sunday off and find yourself in North Platte, come to my Episcopal Church. It’s cool.” 

 When Steve was ready for a different experience on his Sundays off, he made a visit to Church of Our Savior.  “From the first visit, I was warmly embraced, heartily welcomed, invited to coffee hour, greeted and spoken to by many,” Steve said. “They asked thoughtful questions to get to know me and invited me to participate in congregational life.”

 “They gave me a church home where I was welcomed and my need for Sabbath respected,” he added.

When Our Savior’s priest took another call, congregation members asked Steve to consider serving as their new priest. After more than a year of discernment, Steve accepted. 

 Showing Up for Each Other

 With about 110 members and Sunday attendance between 40 and 60, those at the Church of Our Savior “have developed their own internal way of discerning what is truly theirs to do,” Steve said. 

 A focus on prayer and Bible study “also leaves them energy to tend to community and each other,” he added. “I’m sometimes about the last person to know there’s a pastoral care need, because they’re on it with each other. They show up for each other.”

 That discernment has led to programs that center on hospitality and an honoring of diversity, within the congregation and the community.

 At Our Savior, “there are so many people here who are not cradle Episcopalians, who’ve come here from someplace else and found safety; welcome; joy,” Steve said. “They keep passing on the gift.”

 Sundays are “a big come as you are party,” Steve said, where people wearing suits sit next to people wearing sweats and where “our devout Republicans and our devout progressive Democrats can talk about top things in the news easily and still go home friends.”

 “If somebody needs rides, or somebody’s having some struggle in life, they figure out how to be there for each other,” he added.

 There’s a free community drive through meal each Wednesday, which has grown to serve more than 200 people each week.

 Churches, nonprofits and businesses work together and the community meal has become “the biggest feeding ministry in the diocese,” an outreach that is “run all on volunteers and with mostly donated groceries,” Steve said. 

 He said another community program began with grant money during the COVID-19 pandemic. 

Called “Episcopal Extras,” people can collect up to three free hygiene kits once per month with different health and cleaning supplies that cannot be purchased using federal food benefits.

 The most recent ministry involves a partnership with a North Platte community organization called Hope Esperanza, which Steve said provides “multifaceted, multilingual” support for newly arrived community members.

 “Whether it’s translation help to get kids into school or get papers,” or tangible support like “food or a piece of furniture,” Steve said Hope Esperanza is “doing it all.”

 “Every other week, the Spanish students and the English students meet together here at the Episcopal Church for a mingle,” Steve said. “They practice language with each other, what they're learning, and they laugh a lot.”

 Future opportunities are being discussed, he added, including a family-to-family program that would pair newcomers with residents who have already established a home in North Platte.

 With new job opportunities soon to be available at a packing plant, and more people moving to North Platte and other nearby communities, “change is coming, and we need to figure out how to work with it,” Steve said.

 A Balanced and Rich Life

 The future may also involve deepening relationships between medium-sized or larger congregations like Our Savior and smaller congregations, Steve said.

 During the COVID-19 pandemic, for example, “Our Savior quickly got on Zoom and livestreamed services,” he said. The online services attracted “other Episcopalians from 120 miles in any direction, because some of the others did not yet have the resources or skills to do it.”

 In addition to being Our Savior’s rector, Steve also continues to serve at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Valentine. He also is the priest at St. Joseph Episcopal Church in Mullen and St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Ogallala.

 Serving four Nebraska congregations involves organization and compromise, and “we’re all learning how to make it work,” Steve said.

 In the Episcopal church, Steve said he’s found “a different rhythm of being and doing” alongside other church leaders who “embody a commitment to more balanced living.”

 When Steve was first invited to the diocesan clergy retreat, he found that it “was an actual retreat. Speakers talk for fifteen to forty-five minutes, and then they give us an hour or more to just go be, and chew on what we heard or do something that feeds us in another way.”

 Members at Our Savior also check in with Steve to make sure he’s taking scheduled days off and has the resources – including time – to meet his own needs. 

 Steve said he’s heard that “ministry is a marathon, not a sprint. Take care of yourself along the way so you can stay in the marathon.”

 At Our Savior, “I’ve deeply felt loved, appreciated, and that I am where God needs me,” Steve said – making ministry not just a marathon but a blessing. “They gave me the chance to live a balanced and rich life once again.”

By: Rachel K. Hindery

 At St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in Kearney, Nebraska, both religious and national holidays are times of community celebration. 

 The “absolutely marvelous music” at St. Luke’s is “a pretty impeccable arrangement of a praise band and a wonderful pipe organ, and maybe the best organist in our state,” Charles said. “It’s a blended program, and it seems to be what people really like.”

 Each Fourth of July, St. Luke’s hosts an opportunity “to give real history about the country and to give our thanks,” the Reverend Dr. Charles Peek said. “That organ plays, and we have very good results of people coming in saying ‘isn’t that beautiful?’”

 Discerning how and what to blend – honoring the beloved parts of the past and present while asking “what can it be tomorrow?” – is vital for St. Luke’s, where Charles attends services, and for the wider Church.

 Making it Their Church

 “We’re not in the same environment,” Charles said. “You’re not going to go back to having full pews, at least not very readily. And you’re certainly not going to go back to having full pews if something doesn’t change.”

 In the summer of 2025, St. Luke’s will welcome a new rector when their current rector, Mother Stephanie Swinnea, retires. They held parish meeting listening sessions to assist in the call process, and “we must have spanned seventy years in age in that room,” Charles said.

 “I think that fact alone has helped the older people say, ‘you know, this is not going to be our church much longer,’” he added. ‘“We might move along, but we’ll make it their church.’”

 It’s about ensuring many generations are welcome, and also about helping newcomers navigate an unfamiliar space. “A church building is, frankly, off-putting,” Charles said. 

 “If you’ve never been in one, there’s no place in the world that you go that you sit the way you sit in a church; no place you go where it's usually so poorly marked where you’re going to go to the bathroom; no place where you go where they have strange names for things,” he added.

In addition to greeters and ushers, St. Luke’s has “guides” as part of its Hospitality in Worship Committee – members who show “where things are and how to negotiate the physical space,” Charles said.

 Charles and his wife Nancy’s daughter, together with a good friend and retired priest, co-lead a diocesan program that seeks out new ways of being church, such as offering outdoor Compline when weather permits.

 Opportunities for silence and personal reflection can also be ways of “getting people more centered” and open. The Incarnation Way, a Benedictine Monastery in Omaha, is one such local resource.

 Charles is aware of surveys that indicate that people are seeking “some place that’s got some sense of being in the presence of God,” although they may have other ways to describe the sacred.

 When people see a church building, they often “have roughly some idea of its history, even if they don’t know what its theology is,” Charles said. This makes maintaining churches important for both parishioners and community members.

 Anchored in Love

 “If you’re anchored, you don’t have to fear change as much as if you’re adrift in the sea, blown out way beyond your means,” Charles said. “There needs to be something that’s pushing us to a deeper commitment and deeper spiritual life.”

 People can still have differences of opinions while working toward common goals – “we don’t have to be in conformity,” Charles said. “We just have to be in unity.”

 For Charles, going beyond welcome to inclusion is one such goal. During his ordination process, “I latched onto that passage in the Gospels where Jesus comments about the people God has given him as followers and that he lost not one of them.”

 Charles described this passage as “a spur to my ministry,” but added, “I’ve seen people leave churches because they were not treated very well.”  

 At one point, a new family was welcomed at St. Luke’s after attending another church but later left. Thinking back on this time, Charles said “we wanted ready-made saints to walk through the door, but we got a family.”

 “We wanted to be inclusive,” he continued, “but we thought we knew how to make people feel welcome and included. We didn’t consult with them about what makes them feel welcome and included.”

 The experience of being listened to without judgment is one way Charles said the church can be an example. “Particularly in a time of divisiveness, if you can’t come together in the church over disagreements, why do we expect the world to?” he said.

  A Much Larger Room

 The way each congregation meets community needs is unique, “otherwise, I could make a lot of money on a book that says ‘here’s how everybody does it,” Charles said.

 At St. Luke’s, it’s making programs and worship more approachable, and connecting with other local congregations to provide tangible support. 

 For example, “we have had Safeguarding God’s Children for a long time, and we’ve now turned that into an all-parish meeting, trying to see that everybody’s on board,” Charles said.

 Safeguarding God’s Children is a program that trains adults who interact with children to prevent and respond to sexual abuse. 

 During the COVID-19 pandemic, “our diocese came up with money to help people get equipment that they would need to broadcast services with the provision that we would  hopefully continue doing that when it was no longer necessary,” Charles said.

 “I think most of our churches are continuing to broadcast the service,” he added. “Some people stay home and watch the broadcast instead of coming to the church, but that does not necessarily mean they’re not supporters or not involved.”

 Those who do attend St. Luke’s in person will be able to get around easier thanks to a new elevator. “The kids will get a kick out of it, but it could be a tool for if you come here, you have access” to any level of the building, Charles said.

 One of the psalms Charles has returned to at different points in his life mentions how God set the Psalmist’s feet in a large room.

 “A lot of my experience of ministry has been to see that there is really a much larger room than we have conceived of in the past,” he said.

 What is now the Kearney Jubilee Center “started in our church basement, and just grew too big for that,” Charles said. This is an ecumenical nonprofit which offers a thrift store, food pantry, community dinners, rescue food and general assistance.

 St. Luke’s is one of the four churches hosting free Thursday Night Community Dinners. Each participating church hosts three months each year.

 Charles said it’s important that congregations share what resources they provide with the community at large. What happens next is, ultimately, up to God. “If we have our own story and share our own story,” Charles said, “it’s got to come out of that story.”

By: Rachel K. Hindery

 In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus tells His followers that He is with them where two or three are gathered in His name (Matthew 18:20). 

 Michelle Keppen describes Grace Episcopal Church in Madison, South Dakota, as somewhere filled with God’s presence – a place with “friendships that have evolved into being family,” and where worship, learning and service are blended.

 A Weekly Reminder

 Grace is a small congregation, with four to six people attending on an average Sunday, but that closeness is “exactly why I attend church,” Michelle said. “I want to be who God thinks I can be but I need a weekly reminder and for someone to hold me accountable.”

 “I would also say that’s why most of us come to church,” she added. As “we go through the foot surgeries together, and the knee surgeries and the various ailments that we all have, we take care of each other and bring snacks.”

 The newest arrival to Grace is its priest, who has eagerly “been incorporated into the family.” Grace’s priest, whom Michelle said has a full-time job at a university, officiates twice each month for $100 and “treats after the service.”

 On Sundays when the priest is there, the congregation meets in Grace’s sanctuary and the worship service includes the Eucharist. On other Sundays, there’s a tradition of meeting around the table.

 Not only is it easier to hear when everyone is facing each other instead of facing forward, “but we talk, we read whatever the Sermons That Work is, and then we all discuss afterwards what it means in our lives,” Michelle said, adding, “I think that brings us closer.”

 Sermons That Work, a ministry of the Episcopal Church’s Office of Communication, is a free resource that includes sermons and lectionary readings.

 “Like any family, we are not perfect and do not always meld perfectly together, but we seem to accept each other and that has comfort in it,” Michelle said. 

Sharing Knowledge and Stories 

 At Grace, Michelle said everyone contributes knowledge and skills as well as resources. “It may just be a story from their past that sheds light for us on something current or helps us in some way,” she said.

 That’s how they learned about the pelican. “We have a stained glass window with a pelican, and it’s like 100 years old,” Michelle said. “We just thought, ‘well, someone obviously likes birds. How nice.’”

 Then, the priest explained the symbolism behind the pelican. Shown feeding its offspring with its blood, the pelican represents Christ’s sacrifice.

 Another time, Grace was working to develop a land acknowledgement, which honors the Indigenous people who were the original stewards of the land. 

 A member who had taught at a Native American reservation “gave us a lot of insight, because our particular county has not had a good Native American history,” Michelle said.

 Michelle was aware of conflicts that took place in the 1800s, but the member “brought in the bigger picture” while sharing Native American culture. 

 Gratitude and Gifts 

 “We like to open our church home to anyone that enters and give our gratitude to them for taking a step inside our doors,” Michelle said.

 Often, they find that as they extend welcome, people are eager to share their own skills and gifts. 

 “We’ve got the piano player’s husband who has fixed windows for us,” Michelle said, while another member’s husband “knows how to get rid of bats.”

 When an Alcoholics Anonymous (A.A.) group needed a meeting place, “we just said ‘pay what you want,’ and now they’re paying three hundred dollars a month,” Michelle said.

 Then, a surprise: “they rewired the whole fellowship hall,” she added. “They just did it. They said, ‘do you mind?’ No, no we don’t.”

 Quilted Together

 As a small congregation, “we have very little resources, so we usually come up with ways we’re going to raise money for upcoming projects,” Michelle said. 

 When the roof needed repairs, Michelle said Grace received a loan from the diocese that they paid back. 

 Most of the resources from summer craft fairs and special events goes to the community, though, including organizations like the local American Legion. “We’re better raising money for others than for a furnace,” Michelle said.

 Grace and other local churches are part of the Madison Area Ministerial Association (MAMA), which has a fund to meet needs that other social service organizations are unable to provide, such as short-term assistance during a medical crisis.

 What Michelle describes as “the best quilt project,” raised $1,775 for MAMA, while building community between participating churches.

 Churches created 12-and-a-half inch quilt blocks and sold raffle tickets with the finished quilt as a prize. 

 “The theme was ‘Christian,’” Michelle said. “We had no idea how this was going to turn out, but it turned out so beautifully,” she added, that “several of the little churches have already started planning their next block.”

 Eighteen congregations participated, and quilters from Grace Church “made sashing and corner blocks and then sewed everything together,” Michelle said, adding that Grace’s block featured a replica of their stained glass pelican.

 When Grace members are working on “sashing for this, hats for the reservation” or other projects, Michelle said volunteers from the local Catholic Church or Presbyterian Church will help out. 

 Members from multiple denominations also attend each other’s special worship services. For example, “We do a Holden service, and we do it in Advent, but the Lutherans do it in Lent,” Michelle said, describing a type of vespers. “They come to ours, and we go to theirs.”

 Together as the body of Christ, “we give our time and talent to others as we think God would want us to do.”