Magazine Winter 2024/25

The Samaritan

SEASON OF CONTRASTS

212 West Lancaster Avenue | Paoli, PA 19301

info@good-samaritan.org | 610.644.4040 good-samaritan.org

CLERGY

Rector

The Rev’d Phillip Channing Ellsworth Jr

Vicar (January)

The Rev’d Dr Matthew Kozlowski

Assisting Priest

The Rev’d Marcia

Wilkinson

VESTRY

Andy Balsan

Tom Connett

Mark Dixon

Mary Ernst

Whitney T. Kuniholm

Angela Linden

Ian MacDonald

Jim McGuire

Jonathan Purifoy

Amber Skinner

Rusty Smith

Richard Toland

Mary Anne Weightman

Louise B. Wennberg

WEEKLY SERVICES

The Service of Holy Eucharist

Sunday, 7:30 am Rite 1, Chapel

Sunday, 9 am Rite 11, Church

Sunday, 11:15 am New Chapel, Church

Adult Christian Formation Class

Sunday, 10:15 am Ashton Hall or Choir Room

STAFF

Director of

Student Ministry

Jessica Campbell

Day School Director

Barb Condit

College / CCO

Campus Minister

Dan Garrison Edwards

Creative Specialist

Elrena Evans

Executive Assistant to the Rector

Missy Freiling

Maintenance Director

Connor Gisel

Organist

Gary Gress

Associate for Contemporary Liturgy & Discipleship

Josh Guenther

Theologian-in-Residence

Christopher A. Hall

Director of Family Ministries

Kimberly Lindquist

Photographer-in-Residence

Larry McGill

Technical Director

Jarrett Moses

Writer-in-Residence

Christie Purifoy

Creative Director

Melodee Dill Stephens

Director of Dance Ministry

Karen Watkins

Financial Administrator

Betsy Wolford

Director of Music & Parish Administrator

Richard Zuch

Maintenance Team

Alphonse Campanese

Beau McFetridge

Mayrel Vargas

YOU RECEIVE THE SAMARITAN WEEKLY

Each Wednesday we release The Samaritan Weekly via email. A thoughtful, quick-to-read newsletter with meditations, reflection prompts, and other resource links to encourage our journey together here at The Church of the Good Samaritan. Upcoming classes and events for all ages are also listed. To subscribe, please email melodee@good-samaritan.org.

The Trouble with Christmas

BY THE REV’D PHILLIP CHANNING ELLSWORTH JR

“When Herod the king had heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.” MATTHEW 2. 3

I am a Christian because my sister missed a bus. From our house on White Sands Missile Range, Vicki ran to catch the bus that took her to high school in Las Cruces, New Mexico. She missed it, and chanced upon what she didn’t know existed, the bus that ordinarily picked up only officers’ children who lived on the other side of the post. The driver saw her, stopped, and let her in. And that’s how she became friends with Barbara Holderman, another sophomore. A few weeks later, Barb invited her to go with her to an evening service at the post chapel. And so one night Vicki, my first mother in the faith, with the aid of a chaplain, prayed and asked Jesus to come into her heart and take over. He did, and the girl who went to church that night was not the same girl who came home. I am a Christian because my sister missed a bus.

This issue of The Samaritan encourages us to be attentive to the Spirit whom we meet in contrast, who finds us in unlikely places, where we weren’t even looking, where all the evil spells are finally broken and it isn’t chance deep down at the heart of things but covenant love, God and human beings bound together in a relationship whose basic character is not instrumental. “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him” (1 Cor 2. 9).

The God we meet in the Bible likes to see his likeness in the counterfactual, in what is not God. That is the point of God creating everything in the first place. The God who is not stuff, not just another piece of furniture in the universe, chooses to be involved with stuff, in what is not God. He gets a kick out of it.

Job learns this on the far side of his suffering. Without his knowledge (he’s kept in the dark about this), that is what’s at stake in Job’s saga. The fallen angel Satan tells God that humans are only interested in you because you’re a cosmic rabbit’s foot to them. God says that it isn’t so, that covenant relationship is based on love that transcends self-interest on either side—take my servant Job, for an example. Job then loses his three daughters and the farm, but he doesn’t lose Mrs Job. And she tells

him The one thing you have left is your integrity, so use it. He demands God enter into the abyss of his pain by asking one of the few questions in life worth asking: What in the Sam Hill is going on here?! And God answers his question with questions. “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements—surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone, when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?” (Job 38. 2 – 4, ESV).

When we read the Scriptures, whether in church or in one of the more than 15 Good Samaritan small groups vital to our life and growth as a congregation (large, growing

PHOTOGRAPHY: CHRISTIE PURIFOY

churches get small), what we hold in our hands is not Aesop’s fables. It isn’t moralistic. The Word of God reads more like tragedy, comedy, and fairy tale. It gives us scenes like something out of a Puccini opera.

Take, for an example, the passage from Genesis, chapter 15, read the other day by the small group called the Men’s Friday 7 am Bible Study. God promises unconditionally to bless Abraham and to give him an eternal inheritance. What staggers him isn’t the promise that God will give him offspring but that he will give his offspring the land. God swears that in a dark, bloody covenant. Abraham falls into a deep sleep, and in a theophany God appears as a fiery, smoking pot that goes down between a bunch of split carcasses. In symbolism wellattested in the ancient world, and which appears again in Jeremiah 34, God by this gruesome scene is saying, “If I don’t keep my word to give your offspring this land as an inheritance, I invoke on myself the curses portrayed in these dismembered animals that are right now feeding with their carcasses the birds of the air. I invoke on myself that.”

he holds God accountable. Betrayed by the people he’s led out of bondage in Egypt, betrayed by his own brother, now God wants to leave Moses alone with a job he never wanted in the first place. It’s one of the most fiery, operatic domestic disputes ever: Moses and the Most High behaving like a married couple having words.

We have a hard time believing that to trust God means to hold him accountable. Our ancestors, in contrast, didn’t. In the older Book of Common Prayer, the Burial Office’s opening sentences included this line from the first chapter of Job: “We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” The people responsible for the current prayer book took that line out, deciding apparently that our piety was no longer hard-nosed or tough enough to hold God accountable. That is a dangerous sentimentality.

The God we meet in the Bible likes to see his likeness in the counterfactual, in what is not God.

What kind of God does this? I think of Orual, the protagonist of CS Lewis’ Till We Have Faces, and the question she asks of the gods: “Why must holy places be dark places?” This God is the same one who quarrels with Moses in Exodus [chapter 33]. Moses had been fasting for forty days on Sinai, but six weeks was too long for the Israelites. They smelt their jewelry into a golden cow, and his brother Aaron presides over the idolatry. And now God tells Moses to get these people out of his face: “Go on, go up from here, you and this people which you brought up from the land of Egypt, to a land flowing with milk and honey. For I must not go up in your midst, since you are a stiff-necked people, lest I eat you up on the road. If I went up in your midst even for a second, I would wipe you out!”

And Moses lets God have it. “These are your people, your responsibility not mine!” Like Job,

The Lord whom my sister met that night in New Mexico (on a missile range, of all places) is the same one whose glory, were it to shine on our mortal eyes, would blow us to smithereens. When Moses asked God to show him his kavod, the weight of his glory, the Most High—who spoke to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend (Ex 33. 11)— tucked him into the cleft of the rock, put his divine hand over him to further protect him, then passed by revealing only his back. That same God becomes flesh: the High and Lofty One who inhabits eternity enters into time and space, is not just somewhere over the rainbow but asleep in our backyard, in a cattle shed. In Jesus, the Most High vouchsafes himself to Mary’s womb, gives himself into her hands, even to yours and mine on a hill far away. He continues to put himself into your hands in the Blessed Sacrament. And you don’t go up in smoke.

We’re like Moses. He isn’t running to catch a bus, but he’s on the run from the long arm of Egyptian law, keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro in the Midian desert, “and the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. He looked, and behold, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed. And Moses said, ‘I’ve got to turn aside to see this strange sight, why the bush is not burned.’ When the LORD saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, ‘Moses, Moses!’ And he said, ‘Here I am’” (Ex 3. 2 – 4).

The fourth-century Cappadocian fathers saw in that what they called a tupos (a leitmotif or pattern is what we call it). In his treatise On the Birth of Christ, Gregory of Nyssa was the first to see and write about this. The Blessed Mother, who conceived by the Holy Spirit, yet remained a virgin, who carried the Almighty in her womb and later held him at her breast, yet did not turn to ash, she is in her flesh the bush that burns, yet is not consumed. The Feast of the Holy Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ survives all our claptrap attempts to domesticate it, to make it safe. It isn’t safe. It is cataclysmic and terrifying. And that’s what makes it wonderful.

A Merry Christmas to you all, Good Sam! God bless us every one!

FROM THE RECTOR’S WARDEN

Unshakable Faith

BY WHITNEY T. KUNIHOLM, RECTOR’S WARDEN

As I reflect on 2024, I find myself grappling with a profound sense of uncertainty. Our country has just experienced one of the most divisive years in my lifetime, and globally it seems like “famines… wars and rumors of war” are escalating.1

At the same time, the Vestry has been praying about what church growth looks like and it has occurred to me that this season of uncertainty may offer a unique opportunity for growing Good Samaritan. How so? Instead of giving in to worry or fear, what if as a parish we demonstrated an “unshakable faith” in what’s true and eternal?2 I believe doing so, with humility, would be a highly effective witness to a skeptical world.

The question is, how can we do this? Perhaps the answer lies in taking another look at the theme verses we chose at the beginning of 2024: “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.”3 What’s striking is how relevant this has become in the context of the year we’ve experienced.

FOCUS ON THINGS ABOVE

So, let me suggest some practical ways to focus on things above.

• Less… Noise. In our hyper-connected world, it’s easy to be captivated by the barrage of information, much of it designed to stir up fear, outrage, or confusion. Keeping the television on in the background or constantly checking our smartphones allows the noise of the world to control our “inner being.”4 Cutting back on our consumption of news, commentary and social media may be a necessary first step for restoring our uneasy souls. Lately, I’ve started checking the news only once a day, in the morning after my quiet time of Bible reading and prayer. And on Sunday, I “fast” from the news altogether. It takes discipline but I’m feeling more centered.

• Less… Mocking. Over the past two decades, I’ve noticed a growing acceptance of mockery as the basis of cultural discourse; think of political debate, talk radio or late-night comedy. The fact is, mockery attracts an audience but it destroys civility and the common good. Proverbs reminds

This season of uncertainty may offer a unique opportunity for growing Good Samaritan.

us that “mockers can get a whole town agitated, but the wise will calm anger.”5 As followers of Christ, we are called to embody wisdom, gentleness, and respect, even when we disagree. I’ve discovered that subtly mocking other perspectives in conversation can be funny, but it infects my heart with an “us vs. them spirit.”

• More…Compassion. Jesus said, “This is my command: love each other.”6 No mystery there! The challenge is to live it out in a divisive world. One way I do this is by viewing people around me with the thought, “There’s a struggling soul God loves.” Try it for one day and see if it helps you have more compassion. Also, I’m motivated by Fr. Phillip’s benediction, “Life is short, and we do not have too much time to gladden the hearts of others. So be quick to love, make haste to be kind….”

• More…Prayer. Jesus also said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”7 I can’t say I’m good at this, but lately I’ve been praying for national leaders I disagree with, or world leaders who are enemies. As a Christian, I believe God can change any heart.8 When I pray like this, I try to imagine how different the world would be if even one of these leaders had a “Damascus Road experience.”9

LOOKING AHEAD TO 2025

As we enter the New Year, perhaps our theme verse should be, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!”10 Why? Because in a world overwhelmed by division and uncertainty, rejoicing in our unshakable faith, hope, and love may be the best way for Good Samaritan to become an oasis of Good News our anxious neighbors are eager to explore.

MEET THE KOZLOWSKIS

Welcoming Our New Vicar and His Family

We are delighted to welcome The Rev’d Dr Matthew Kozlowski as Vicar at The Church of the Good Samaritan, beginning his ministry with us in January. He joins us with his wife, Danielle, and their two daughters, Maria and Grace. We asked Fr Matthew a few questions, and we hope you’ll enjoy getting to know him and his family through these responses. We look forward to welcoming them into our church family and embarking on this exciting new chapter of ministry together.

WHAT IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING TO YOU ABOUT BEING A PRIEST?

This is a great question, and it’s helpful to see the word “important” rather than “best” or “favorite.” I do love being a priest. That said, the Bible and our tradition reminds us that ministry is not something that the clergy “do,” but rather something that the community shares. To use a rowing analogy (my wife is a rower), the church works best when the people of God are all pulling in the same direction. Seeking Jesus and his will. But okay, I will answer the question! The most important thing I do as a priest is to show people Jesus. Full stop. That happens in preaching. It happens in teaching. It happens in pastoral care, outreach, mission, and much more. But for a priest, perhaps the most profound moments of showing people Jesus are at the font (Baptism) and the altar (Eucharist). The sacraments are “outward and spiritual signs of inward and spiritual grace, given by Christ…” (Book of Common Prayer, 857). When I teach young people I often say that the sacraments “make God’s love real to us.”

This is not a perfect definition, but it’s a good place to start.

In the Eucharist, it’s crucial to remember that before the bread can be shared, it must first be broken. In other words, Christ gives himself to us; but first he allows his body to be broken.

IN WHAT WAYS IS GOD MOVING IN YOUR SPIRITUAL JOURNEY THIS YEAR?

It’s funny, back in 2020 I remember people repeating the quip: “What a month this week has been.” Indeed, the passing of time can feel long or short, depending on what’s going on in our lives. For me, this past year has brought times of excitement, renewal, humility, and discernment. Most exciting, of course: the call to come to Good Samaritan. Preparing for this

next chapter has also brought our family closer together, as we have prayed and discerned about God’s plan.

WHO IS JESUS TO YOU?

Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior, and boy do I never get tired of saying that! For a more robust answer, let me quote from Christian music. My favorite praise song is “Prince of Peace,” which boldly declares, “You’re Emmanuel, You’re the Great I Am, You’re the Prince of Peace, Who is the Lamb.” The chorus then finishes with, “You’re my Savior, Messiah, Redeemer, and friend.”

One of my favorite hymns is Alleluia Sing to Jesus, which gloriously describes Jesus in the following: “robed in flesh, our great high priest; thou on earth both priest and victim, in the Eucharistic feast.”

One word to describe these musical pieces: Wow. Or, as the kids might say… “mic drop.”

WHAT ARE YOUR HOPES FOR THIS UPCOMING SEASON OF SERVING THE COMMUNITY AT GOOD SAMARITAN?

I am so looking forward to meeting you all and getting to know you. Danielle and the girls will be finishing out the school year in Bethesda, Maryland. Which means that I will be arriving at the East Rectory “solo.” So… any and all dinner invitations will be gratefully accepted—and don’t be surprised if I take up Jesus’ practice of inviting myself for dinner… I am an omnivore and would love to join you for a meal.

HOW DO YOU BALANCE YOUR VOCATIONAL CALL WITH GOD’S CALL TO REST?

This is such a good question, because burnout is a real thing in almost all professions. But clergy burnout is particularly problematic because it prevents us from feeding and serving the parish community. My mornings all begin in the same spot in my home with a cup of coffee, Bible, devotional, and a journal (journaling being a relatively new practice for me). Lawn and garden work is a place of joy and “recreation” for me, whether it’s mowing, pruning, watering, or planting. Finally, a good football podcast puts my mind at ease, despite the mediocre state of my New England Patriots.

PATRIOTS? HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?

I grew up in Massachusetts, in a Boston suburb called Norwood. So I’ve always been a Boston sports fan. That said, I have lived in Connecticut, Florida, Virginia, and Maryland. Getting to know interstate 95 quite well. Sports has a way of showing us the highest highs and the lowest lows. I also love seeing a community rally around a local team when the team is making a good run.

WHAT DO YOU ENJOY DOING FOR FUN?

Our family loves spending time outside. We also love to cook, watch movies, and enjoy a good fire. S’mores anyone?

WHAT IS ONE THING ABOUT YOU THAT YOU MIGHT WANT US TO KNOW THE MOST?

How about a quick three favorites. My favorite books are The Chronicles of Narnia by CS Lewis. My favorite movie is Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. My favorite person is Danielle Kozlowski!

WHAT ARE DANIELLE’S HOPES IN THIS SEASON?

WHAT ARE HER PASSIONS IN LIFE?

Oh, good transition. As I mentioned, Danielle is a rower and so she loves getting out on the river with her crew team, often early in the morning. When she arrives at Good Samaritan in June, she is excited to get to know the Good Sam family. Danielle is an avid reader, podcast listener, brilliant jigsaw puzzler, lover of historic houses, and a chocolate connoisseur.

AND YOUR TWO GIRLS? WHAT DO THEY LOVE TO DO?

Maria is 13, plays the cello, and she loves music and summer camp. Grace is 11, does Karate, and she loves Legos. In church, they enjoy serving as acolytes, and any youth events with dessert.

HOW ABOUT A BIBLE VERSE TO CLOSE?

Many years ago at summer camp, I learned (quite poorly) to water ski. When you were sitting in the water holding the rope and ready for the boat to go, you could either yell, “Hit it!” or “Philippians 4. 13!”

So, let’s close with that: Philippians 4. 13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

The Wonderful Paradox of the Incarnation

Jesus is both fully divine and fully human

BY CHRISTOPHER A. HALL, THEOLOGIAN-IN-RESIDENCE

What is so special about the incarnation? What exactly happened two thousand years ago? In Christ, the Son of God took upon himself a full, complete human nature, so that he really and truly became a man, yet without ceasing to be what he always had been, namely, the eternal divine Son. Thus, Jesus is both “fully divine” and also “fully human,” with neither of these features undermining or diluting the other.

James Anderson in his book Paradox in Christian Theology: An Analysis of Its Presence, helps us to understand what a theological paradox such as the incarnation entails.

Anderson feels that those who attempt to give final resolution to a theological mystery such as the incarnation—what he calls the “paradox”—inevitably end up compromising some aspect of the orthodox tradition about who Jesus is. Indeed, they seem to compromise orthodoxy precisely to the extent that they insist upon following some logical principle to its necessary conclusion. Anderson writes, I think correctly, that when we consider the incarnation “there appears to be no option for the Christian theologian but to grasp one or other horn of the dilemma: to abandon orthodoxy or to embrace paradox and thereby face the charge of irrationality.”

Orthodoxy follows a logic of its own that is deeper than our ordinary categories can handle. But it is certainly true that those who demand crisp, clear logical rigor may turn away from orthodox Christology rather frustrated. How can Jesus be both fully divine and fully human in a single person? We simply do not know.

Logically speaking, the attributes of God are very nearly the opposite of those of a human being. The theologians of the early centuries very clearly acknowledged this fact. To take but one example, the famous defender of nascent orthodoxy in the fifth century, Cyril of Alexandria, declared quite forcefully, “Godhead is one thing, and manhood is another thing, considered in the perspective of their respective and intrinsic beings.” There it is: stark opposition. When Cyril goes on to say that, in the case of Christ, Godhead and manhood “came together in a mysterious and incomprehensible union without confusion or change,” he is evidently moving beyond the obvious, predictable course of logical necessity. For him, mere analysis of the doctrine of God and humanity simply cannot produce the Christian doctrine of Christ.

And, of course, if the Christian doctrine of divine incomprehensibility is true, then this is exactly what we should expect. If God transcends the entire created order, in something analogous to the way a three-dimensional object transcends the two-dimensional world of Flatland, then no amount of created reasoning will allow the creature to understand the Creator, just as no amount of two-dimensional reasoning can allow the Flatlander to understand a cylinder. In any case of real, ontological transcendence, the same is true. The reasoning powers of the “lower” reality cannot adequately conceive of the “higher” reality, precisely because the higher is higher.

For the same reason, no plain, rational explanation of the higher reality can ever be accessible or comprehensible to the lower—even if the explanation comes from the higher reality itself. We see this

in concrete experience (imagine a veterinarian trying to explain veterinary medicine to a dog), but it is all the more true when any sort of ontological transcendence is involved. The very best three-dimensional mathematician on earth, who comprehends circles and the relation between them in a cylinder with perfect clarity, will still not be able to explain a cylinder to a Flatlander—not because of the mathematician’s lack of comprehension, but because of the Flatlander’s incapacity. In the nature of the case, rigorous logical explanation cannot overcome transcendence. It is important to see that this difficulty persists even if it is God himself doing the explaining. God does, of course, understand the nature of deity and humanity, and also the relation between the two in the incarnation, and we therefore can trust him without qualification to guide us wisely into the truth we cannot grasp with logical rigor. But we should not expect his guidance to take the form of a syllogism. Having no grasp of the transcendent mystery that God himself is, we have no resources for conceiving how that reality could be related to an individual instance of created human nature, and therefore no clear-cut “explanation” of the incarnation will be forthcoming—not even from God. Mere logic (of the creaturely, two-dimensional variety) cannot contain such a thing.

But the problem is even worse. It is not just the limits of creaturely logic that hinder us, for it is not mere creatures that God must “explain” things to. It is fallen creatures—creatures, in other words, whose innate sinfulness gives them a vested interest in not perceiving clearly anything that their divine enemy might have to say to them. We begin to recognize what a complicated business divine revelation must be, for the recipients of the revelation are infected by a disease that corrupts their minds and wills even as it leads their bodies to the grave. How is the veterinarian to explain veterinary medicine not just to a dog, but also to a dog made vicious by a new strain of rabies, a dog every minute snapping madly at the one who tries to offer aid? Worse yet, imagine a dog that (by some miracle) has begun in rudimentary ways to think, to reason, to really understand—and whose infection now prompts it to use these elementary reasoning skills to resist, to attack, to undermine all that the veterinarian plans for it. In such a situation, where natural incapacity combines with horribly unnatural resistance, what kind of simple, direct, straightforward explanation—“revelation” in the simple, obvious sense—would have the tiniest hope of success?

place? How can such a truth be communicated, when the aim is not merely that it should be understood (impossible as that is anyhow), but that it should be embraced, loved, believed?

We have come, it seems, to the how question. Any scheme for revealing this kind of truth would have to be complex, indirect, unpredictable, even fantastic. It might have to involve concealment as well as revelation, slow recognition as much as immediate clarity, deep faith alongside inspired intellect. As in an old episode of Mission Impossible, subtle hints will be picked up only after the fact; important clues may be delivered and then left to ferment and develop; individual pieces of the puzzle will not be recognized until the whole suddenly falls into place.

The real bedrock of the incarnation lies historically not in any logical analysis or argument but in the startling direct positing of the marvel itself as an incontestable reality: Jesus Christ appeared among us. Grasping the significance of this enormous event is a complicated affair, for one must consider the long, complex interplay of a variety of elements, surely including the unified coherence of Old Testament theology, the formative influence of Jewish tradition, the shocking character of Jesus’ own career on earth, the steady unfolding of apostolic teaching, and the church’s ongoing experience of life in the Spirit.

God will join human nature with the very being of God in the person of the eternal Son, so that the burning brilliance of uncreated Light may remake the created things lost in darkness.

It is something terribly close to this dire situation that God must address when he unveils his wildly unprecedented treatment for creation’s deep affliction. God himself will intervene in ways inconceivable to any human mind, much less to the unruly, defiant mind of sinful human beings. He will join human nature—unimaginable—with the very being of God in the person of the eternal Son, so that the burning brilliance of uncreated Light may remake the created things lost in darkness, so that a death may be died by the deathless One that will kill death itself once and for all. It is this staggering reality that God will reveal to stubborn, bitter, angry, fearful people. How can this revelation be accomplished? How can such an unthinkably exalted hope be communicated? How can the message get through, when the message itself is chock-full of incomprehensible wonders, and the recipients are unwilling to receive messages in the first

Christianity was thus born as a faith that believed in mysteries like a Jewish gospel that included gentiles, and in marvels like the future breaking into ordinary time in Jesus, and especially in impossibilities like a crucified Messiah. If we want to follow the theological logic that was behind the wonder of the incarnation, we should begin not with systematic definitions of God or humanity, but with the astonishing reality of the cross and resurrection, which became the centerpiece around which every other Christian doctrine was set. The revelatory ethos of the New Testament is rooted not in deductive reasoning, but in wonder, as the early Christians, led by the Spirit, began to understand the unimaginable things that happened on Good Friday and Easter morning, and began to draw theological conclusions on that basis. The understanding of Jesus as both fully human and fully divine was the blessed result.

A WINTER JOURNEY WITH THE CHURCH

BY CHRISTIE PURIFOY, WRITER-IN-RESIDENCE

ALL SAINTS DAY

A new season of contrasts slips in quietly on the heels of Halloween. In daily prayer and Sunday worship, our attention will now be drawn to that sharp line between dark and light, sorrow and joy, longing and fulfillment. The Anglican monastic and writer Maggie Ross calls the dark, winter season that begins on November 1 with All Saints and ends on February 2 with Candlemas, the church’s “Night Office.” She is referring to the traditional monastic practice of midnight prayer, and while you will never find me intentionally waking at midnight to pray, I like to think that the short days and long nights of these colder months might shape my prayers—and the prayers of all the saints—in a particular way. Do we learn to pray differently when we pray in the dark?

I snuck too many Hershey bars from the pillowcase my daughter carried trick-ortreating and paid for it with a restless night. Perhaps that’s why I was on my second cup of coffee before I remembered that today is a feast day. All that candy was only the appetizer. But the appetizer for what, exactly? I don’t know how to observe this day, other than to do exactly that: observe it. And so, I read the appointed Scriptures in which Jesus weeps and God wipes every tear from every eye. I pray the day’s collect I find on the lectionary calendar for the Episcopal church and feel as if I am being asked to hold sorrow in one hand and the promise of “ineffable joys” in the other. Later, when I share the collect with my husband and kids around the dinner table, my younger son says, “Ineffable?? That’s a real word?”

“Yes,” I tell him. “It’s a word for the things words can’t say.” It occurs to me then that ineffable might be a very good word to use when we pray in the dark. It’s only one word, but it seems to say: I know there is more going on than I can see or understand.

FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT

I clear away the Thanksgiving place cards shaped like turkeys and set our Advent wreath on the table. We’ve used the same German-made wooden wreath since the kids were small. It has four tiny wooden angels singing from choirbooks, but every one of the four is missing either a wing or a leg, and a few are missing both. When we dim the lights after dinner and light the first candle, the angels look whole again. It is a trick of the light. Or is it a gift of the light?

My fondness for Advent, traditionally a season for fasting not feasting, has become a joke with our kids. “Don’t let Mom choose the music,” they say. “She’ll play her sad Christmas songs.”

“They aren’t sad Christmas songs!” I tell them. “They’re Advent songs. They’re waiting songs.” But the kids are right. The music I prefer this time of year is melancholy and plaintive. I suppose there is sorrow in Advent music, but it isn’t sorrow born of loss. This is the sorrow of longing. How long must we wait until ineffable joy becomes joy we can name? Joy we can see face to face?

ST LUCY’S DAY

My great-grandfather immigrated to America from Sweden, which is why I felt justified making a St Lucia candle crown for my firstborn when she was a little girl. She was compliant enough to pose for photographs in a long white nightgown with red ribbon sash. We used battery-operated candles for the crown on her head. She was not compliant enough to wake early on December 13th to serve sweet breakfast buns to her parents and younger brothers, per Swedish tradition. I don’t really blame her. I was not all that eager to attempt dairy-free, gluten-free Swedish rolls for the brother with food allergies.

The green felt leaves on our St Lucia crown began unraveling years before our second daughter was old enough for this tradition. Instead of dressing up and posing for pictures, she and I read a book about the saint. Lucy (or Lucia) of Syracuse was martyred for her faith in the year 304. The collect for her feast day that I find in my copy of Lesser Feasts and Fasts speaks of Jesus Christ given “as light to a world in darkness” and asks, “Illumine us, as you did your daughter Lucy.” The name Lucy means

light, but her day comes at almost the darkest moment of the year. My daughter asks, “Why don’t we remember her in summer?” I give an honest answer: “I don’t know.” But I think of that candle-lit crown and know that small lights shine brightest in the dark. Somehow the fierce contrast between dark and light gives strength even to weak, battery-powered candles.

THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Today, we light the rose candle on our wreath, and I remind the kids that this candle calls us to rejoice. In Philippians we read, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say, Rejoice.” It occurs to me there is not much wiggle room in that word always. Rejoice in the Lord through my tears? Rejoice in the Lord when I cannot see one step ahead? Rejoice in the Lord always? This instruction seems harsh, even punishing, but Maggie Ross helps me glimpse the mercy in it: “... the most precious gift we bring to the manger is not gold or frankincense or myrrh, but our suffering; which, in the light pouring from the Babe in the straw, will be transfigured into joy.” If God’s light transfigures sorrow into the kind of joy of which it is difficult to speak, then I am glad to sit awhile in the dark. I don’t want to miss God’s light when it comes, as I suspect I have often done on those days of bright happiness and comfortable distractions.

CHRISTMAS EVE

worship, and we are with those shepherds on the hill. The angel choirs have never stopped singing, and tonight we raise our voices under starry skies and know that we do not sing alone.

THE HOLY INNOCENTS

On December 28, the calendar will not let us forget that every heart did not prepare him room, and Jesus was born on a tide of tears. An ancient evil roars in the trumpet of Herod’s decree, and Rachel weeps for her children, as we read in Old Testament (Jeremiah 31) and New (Matthew 2). Where now is joy? Will these glad tidings be drowned out by grief?

THE

HOLY NAME OF OUR LORD (NEW YEAR’S DAY)

If you had asked me in November when this season of contrasts would reach its climax, I would have said Christmas Day. Now I wonder whether all these contrasts and seeming contradictions reach their pinnacle when the Holy Infant is given his name: God Saves. It is a sign that the tide has turned, the true light has dawned, and the great work of making everything new has begun. The invisible plans of ages are becoming visible in a particular time and a particular place. Yet the name is a paradox because our Savior is so small and so utterly dependent on us—the humans he has made. Our salvation is here, and our salvation is a crying infant. Perhaps this contrast between a baby and his name prepares us for the radical contrast at the heart of the Christian story: the cross is the death that brings life. It is the defeat that is victory. It is sorrow, and it is joy.

A day is coming on which night will never fall and winter will not come. This seasonal journey with the Scriptures and prayers of the church has not changed the fact that I—like so many—am still holding sorrow in one hand, the promise of ineffable joys in the other.

THE PRESENTATION OF OUR LORD (CANDLEMAS)

Forty days after Christmas, we remember the day when God was brought to the Temple in his mother’s arms. Though small, he was recognized by Simeon and Anna as God’s salvation, light, and glory. But Simeon’s words of praise and blessing are woven through with a dark thread of sorrow. He says, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel.” And Mary. Oh, Mary. A sword will pierce your heart.

We sing Joy to the world, and it feels so good to hurl those words with all our strength into the dark night.

No more let sins and sorrow grow, Nor thorns infest the ground; He comes to make His blessings flow Far as the curse is found.

When the church worships, we join our voices “with Angels and Archangels and with all the company of heaven,” and for a while those of us who walk in time feel the barriers of time and space dissolve. This moment has become the moment of his birth through our

In astronomical terms, today is a cross-quarter day. We are halfway between winter solstice and spring equinox, as if light and dark are locked in battle. Which will win? Winter or spring? Dark days or bright? In popular culture, especially here in Pennsylvania, we look to a groundhog for our answer. Helping my youngest with her Groundhog Day-themed homework, I remember the lines of a traditional Candlemas poem: “If Candlemas be fair and bright, Then Winter will have another flight; If Candlemas brings clouds and rain, Winter will not come again.”

When we keep time with God and his church, every turn of the year reminds us that one day time will stop turning. A day is coming on which night will never fall and winter will not come. This seasonal journey with the Scriptures and prayers of the church has not changed the fact that I—like so many—am still holding sorrow in one hand, the promise of ineffable joys in the other. To be human is to be acquainted with grief. Yet I am also more sure that when God’s eternal spring does finally arrive, we will open our hands and find only one thing: joy.

GOD IN THE PAUSE

BY THE REV’D DR MATTHEW KOZLOWSKI

Whose woods these are I think I know

These are the opening lines of a poem that is dear to my heart. It’s called Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost, and I always think of it as the weather turns cooler. The plot is simple: a weary traveler stops to watch the falling snow, captivated by its quiet splendor, before proceeding on the long journey ahead.

I grew up in Massachusetts, and thus I have many childhood memories of snow: playing, sledding, building snowmen. I also recall the peaceful, almost otherworldly, experience of just standing in the snow, watching it fall.

Friends, I am tremendously excited to join in ministry with you, and to be part of what God is doing. I’ll be arriving in January, and perhaps it will be a mild winter—one never knows! Or perhaps I will find a snow-covered landscape. Split rail fences outlined in white. Stone houses with ice on the eves.

Where is God in all this?

Psalm 46. 10 says “Be still and know that I am God.” In my life, I have often found the Lord most present in times of waiting. In the in-between times. Yes, God is always speaking to us, but we often hear him best when the noise of life subsides. Even just for a moment.

with Elizabeth (Luke 1). Or Jacob who, in the middle of his journey, wakes from a dream and famously says, “Surely the Lord was in this place, and I did not know it” (Genesis 28. 16).

Christians need to stop and soak up the goodness and power of God. And… but… life keeps going. And so must we. Like the traveler in the Robert Frost poem, we have “miles to go before we sleep.”

The good news is that Jesus is with you. He loves you. He calls you to follow. He saves you. Jesus has plans for you.

There is a line that I tend to repeat (a lot), so I hope that you don’t get (too) tired of my saying it. While it is unclear who might have penned it first, the line goes like this: “God loves us so much as to meet us where we are; and he loves us way too much as to leave us there.”

God loves us so much as to meet us where we are; and he loves us way too much as to leave us there.

Now, this is not a blithe encouragement to “stop and smell the roses” (though I do love garden work). Rather, I am saying that these pause moments are times to soak up God’s goodness and power. I think of Elijah journeying to Mount Horeb where he will encounter the Lord (1 Kings 19). Or Mary traveling to Judea to rejoice

God bless you in this season. I look forward to being with you very soon. In the meantime, if you happen to find yourself near a field of snow, do say a prayer. The Lord is there in the pause.

FOR THOSE WHO HOLD

BY CHRISTIE PURIFOY, WRITER-IN-RESIDENCE

Sorrow and J oy

I recently drove past a local church with a large sign and was very surprised to read, “Survive the Holidays!”

Underneath those bold words was an invitation to a support group for those experiencing grief. Ah, that makes more sense, I thought. The contrast between the dark days of winter and the bright promise of “the Holidays” can make this an especially fraught time for those experiencing sorrow. Thankfully, the actual holy days of the church do not need to be “survived.” They mercifully usher us into a narrative that has ample room for our sorrow and our joy. Remembering the full story of Emmanuel’s coming gives us strength to rejoice even on dark days. If you are in need of that kind of strength, we hope the prayers and practices on this page help ground you in the astonishing good news of this season: God is with us.

PSALMS

Psalms were the prayer book of Jesus, and they are still ours to offer as prayer. Many of them hold sorrow and joy without resolving the tension between the two. Try writing your own Psalm. Following David’s example, give voice to your frustration, grief, or anguish but include praise for God’s character, praise for something he did in your past, and praise for what you believe he will do in the future.

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you” (Ps 55. 22).

BREATH PRAYER

Breath Prayer is an ancient practice that connects our breath with Scripture in prayer. These prayers can be especially helpful if we are carrying grief or stress in our bodies. They can help us feel less anxious, while focusing our minds on Christ and his Word. One line of a short prayer is offered on an inhalation, and the next line with an exhalation. Here are a few possibilities, but you might like to create your own:

Inhale… Loving Shepherd, Exhale… Lead me by still waters (Ps 23)

Inhale… Emmanuel, Exhale… God with us (Isa 7. 14)

Inhale… Lord, Exhale… Have mercy (Ps 123. 3)

Inhale… Speak, Lord, Exhale… For your servant is listening (1 Sam 3. 9)

LITURGY

This is an excerpt from “A Liturgy for Embracing Both Joy and Sorrow.”

You can find the complete liturgy in Every Moment Holy Vol. II by Douglas McKelvey and illustrated by Lancaster, PA artist Ned Bustard.

For this is who we are: a people of The Promise—a people shaped in the image of the God whose very being generates all joy in the universe, yet who also weeps and grieves its brokenness. So we, your children, are also at liberty to lament our losses, even as we simultaneously rejoice in the hope of their coming restoration.

Let me learn now, O Lord, to do this as naturally as the inhale and exhale of a single breath:

To breathe out sorrow, to breathe in joy.

To breathe out lament, to breathe in hope.

To breathe out pain, to breathe in comfort.

To breathe out sorrow, to breathe in joy.

In one hand I grasp the burden of my grief, while with the other I reach for the hope of grief’s redemption. And here, between the tension of the two, between what was and what will be, in the very is of now, let my heart be surprised by, shaped by, warmed by, remade by, the same joy that forever wells within and radiates from your heart, O God. Amen.

KEEP IT All the Year

BY ELRENA EVANS, CREATIVE SPECIALIST

“I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.”

EBENEZER SCROOGE, IN CHARLES DICKENS’ A CHRISTMAS CAROL

This is a piece to read after Christmas. Or, perhaps, it is a piece to read right now. I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I set out to write an article about taking the joy of Christmas with us—after the festivities have ended and the decorations are put away and the tree is hauled out the door (or, one year, inadvisedly and unfortunately shoved out our kitchen window)—can we hold on to the Christ Child’s light as we journey into the next season? Can we take the joy of Christmas with us, like Scrooge, and keep it all the year?

But I got stuck, trying to write that piece; a piece about taking the light into the dark. What if Christmas, itself, felt dark? What if Christmas was hard? What if Christmas did not feel like a season of joy, but more like a long, slow slog of sorrow, intermittently illumined by tinsel?

Christmas doesn’t erase the realities of life. Loved ones sicken and die, relationships rupture, all creation continues its groaning. The hard things are still the hard things. And I feel like I don’t know how to write a piece about carrying with us the pure joy of Christmas, when that joy, itself, was twined with sorrow.

My children and I always acknowledge December 21, the winter solstice, the darkest day of the year. As creatures of sunlight, we feel the grief of shortening days keenly. And, on December 21, we often look at each other and say, we made it. But this little celebration belies a darker truth: December 22 is just as dark as December 20. The darkest day may be over, but there are still many, many dark days ahead of us

before the return of the light and what feels like hope.

In September, the evening dance ministry classes conclude while it is still light. We spill out the doors of the church, ebullient with movement and worship, and do sauté contretemps on the church lawn. In January, it is dark before evening classes start—and I have to drag myself from my warm, cozy home, out into the cold and dark, wondering why it is that I do this.

In January, I walk the trail by Daylesford Abbey in the dark and cold before dawn or after dusk, and I sing to myself the third verse of the Easter hymn "Welcome Happy Morning"—months in due succession, days of lengthening light—reminding myself that those light-filled days will come again.

But what of the time in between? This liminal space, this now and not yet… how can I still honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year?

I don’t know that I have anything to say, really, about finding joy in the midst of sorrow, light in the midst of darkness. It feels too hard.

As I was prayerfully readying to write this piece, walking the trail by Daylesford Abbey, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the abbey bells. It is one of the great joys of my life that I live in a place where I get to hear church bells every day, and I found myself thinking of a piece we set for the dance choir Christmas concert this year. It’s a setting of the hymn “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,” a favorite of mine. I particularly resonate with this verse:

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead, nor does he sleep; The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, With peace on earth, good will to men.”

God is not dead, nor does he sleep. That feels like a truth that could ring like a bell all the way from Christmas into the new year. The wrong—all the wrong, so much wrong—shall fail. Not “stop,” not even “resolve,” it will fail. The wrong will never have the final victory.

On the echoes of the bells, another song began to twine through my mind—a setting of a verse from Jeremiah: You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. And I started to wonder if it isn’t the seeking that matters the most.

When my oldest son was quite small, he would stand at our living room window on the darkest days of the year and watch the light fail. “The blackness will never end,” I remember him saying. “The darkness is taking all the happiness away.” He sounded like a pintsized nihilist. He had just started losing his baby teeth.

“Ooooo-kay,” I would say. “Time to close the curtains and turn on the lights!” And we did, to distract him from the dark.

One day he looked at me, his face a map of worries, and said, “Mommy: There are people hurting all over the world right now. And I can’t help them, because I don’t even know who they are.” I think he had recently heard a statistic that globally, someone is dying every second… and the weight of the world was shrouding him in grief.

I knelt down beside him. “Yes,” I said. “It is true that someone is hurting right now. And someone is dying. And we don’t know who they are. But…it is also true that right now, a baby is being born. And maybe someone is laughing. Maybe someone is getting a big hug. Maybe someone is eating ice cream.”

My son thought about this for a minute. “Sometimes,” I told him, “we have to seek the things that are good.”

So I wonder, as Christmas slips into memory and we strive to still find the joy, if perhaps the seeking is more important than the finding, whatever the season. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart, Jesus said. And, in the end, isn’t that the One thing we truly seek?

Our Favorite Things to Anticipate and Enjoy

Is there something you look forward to reading, hearing, or seeing during the winter? Is there a book, piece of music, movie, or work of art you return to year after year when the days are short?

BONNIE O’NEIL

Every Advent I look forward to reading Silence and Other Surprising Invitations of Advent by Enuma Okoro. I met the author in 2018 at a writers’ conference at Princeton Theological Seminary. Broken into four weeks of short devotionals, the book explores the lives of Zachariah, Elizabeth, Mary, and John to examine themes of longing, doubt, silence, retreat, and waiting, among others. The language is ripe with invitation as the author prompts the reader to explore their deepest desires, and hold those desires in faith that God is still at work. I find this book to be a great way to prepare myself for Advent and for my year-end examen, where I take time to notice how God has been moving in my life in the past year and what invitations he might have for me in the coming year.

KAREN WATKINS

Our family will be circling back to Hallelujah: Cultivating Advent Traditions With Handel’s Messiah by Cindy Rollins for our advent devotions. We listen to the musical selection by candlelight, read the brief encouragement from the chapter, then the kids open their little cardboard window for the day’s chocolate.

ELRENA EVANS

Every Christmas I look forward to getting out my copy of The Best Christmas Pageant Ever (tattered, worn, and signed by the author) and reading it to my children or myself. The moment when Imogene Herdman begins to truly understand the miracle of Christmas is as powerful to me as the transformation of Ebenezer Scrooge. (Fun fact: I have never read the line “Imogene Herdman was crying” without starting to cry myself. “Awful old Imogene, in her crookedy veil, crying and crying and crying.”) Sometimes I think we need a bit more Gladys in our striving for a picture-perfect Christmas. “Gladys, with her dirty sneakers sticking out from under her robe, yelling at all of us everywhere: “Hey! Unto you a child is born!”

BARRI ALEXANDER

As the end of November approaches I try to round up all of my Advent books. Some I have read through and some I have never finished. My favorites are Come, Lord Jesus: The Weight of Waiting by Kris Camealy, Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas and The One True Light by Tim Chester. I look forward to sitting by my fireplace and enjoying the fire light on the dark days.

JESSICA CAMPBELL

I have always felt like my life had a bit of a soundtrack to it. Graduating high school my gift to friends was a six CD mix of songs from our four years together. I now have playlists for every season, mood, and motivation, and probably have music playing for 75 percent of my waking hours. Periods of quiet are important, but so is the soundtrack we choose for our lives. Have you ever seen a clip of a movie with the background music swapped to something ridiculous? The atmosphere we create through music has transformative power.

When I read about the theme of this Winter’s magazine, this album immediately sprung to mind. The word “doxology” comes from the Greek words doxa and logia, which mean “glory” and “speech” respectively. A paradox is a statement or situation that seems contradictory or goes against common sense, but may still be true. So perhaps we can embrace some glory speech around the more seemingly contradictory truths about God we encounter. As you hold things in tension this season, check out these twists on some traditional hymns and well known worship songs.

I discovered these two albums a few years ago as I started curating my Advent playlist and they have quickly become winter favorites. Advent Collection (Remastered) by The Brilliance Waiting Songs by Rain For Roots Paradoxology by Elevation Worship

LIZ COOKE

Beginning on December 1, the start of Christmas on the secular calendar, there are people who attempt to go as long as possible before Christmas without hearing the song, Last Christmas by Wham! I wholeheartedly resent this sentiment. Last Christmas is of a special category of holiday music that discusses not only the Christmas aesthetic but what it means to return home to people or places from the past that we wouldn’t necessarily choose for ourselves now.

MARCIA WILKINSON

During Advent and Christmastide we prepare our hearts to receive the Christ child and the long-awaited return of the Messiah. On Christmas day we begin our celebration of Jesus’ coming with worship. The season focuses on giving and charity and treating others with grace and compassion. In our home we watch the classic version of Dickens’ The Christmas Carol, with George C. Scott, and The Polar Express. Both movies bring us joy and a deeper awareness of our human need for genuine relationships. They remind us to be intentional to follow the Holy Spirit’s leading in response to the needs of others.

Yearly, we set up our nativity scene, now 50 years old, bought in Thailand to honor our Christian tradition while living in a Buddhist country. The once vibrant handmade Thai silk figures are faded now. However, faded, they remain beautiful, reminding us again and again that Christ Jesus came into the world for all people, all nations.

ROXY DUNNING

In the winter, and all the time really, I enjoy painting. I’m currently working on a children’s book for my little grandsons about heaven and their grandfather (my husband) whom we lost just after Christmas last year. I find creative projects are a shelter during grief (as my son-in-law says, “If you’re feeling sad, make something”). I’m nourished in my creativity by two books, one high brow and one low brow. The first is Art + Faith, A Theology of Making by Makoto Fujimura. This a recent find for me, lovely to read slowly and carefully. The other is Creative Glory, Embracing the Realm of Divine Expression by Joshua Mills. This one is a little crazy, straightforward and steeped in the supernatural (as though why would you ever doubt it?!). Since ‘intellectualism’ is something that gets in my way a lot, I like this one and find it inspiring.

I have many art books. One of my favorites, which I return to again and again, is The Glory of Angels by Edward Lucie-Smith. It’s a collection of paintings of the angelic realms by different artists over the centuries. It includes Biblical quotes and commentary on the art, plus the prints are spectacular. I think it’s only available through used book outlets, but it’s easy to find.

Recalling these words from the author of the Narnia stories, we hope this winter finds you enjoying at least one book, film, or song for the child in you.

“ When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty, I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.”

C.S. LEWIS, ON STORIES

LEAH SIOMA

In January, I turn off the Christmas music and turn on our family’s winter Spotify playlist. I keep one for each season, and it’s joyous. This year, I’m adding a couple Jacob Collier songs to the mix as well as All Ways by Elliott Park—highly recommend!”

At Christmas, I like to take the family off road a little. One of the older grandchildren plays the guitar as we sing There’s a River of Life. We take turns reading Revelation 22. 1 – 5, while the youngest grandchildren put fruit shaped ornaments on a little tree wrapped in a flowing blue scarf (the river). When the reading comes to the part about the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, that’s when the littlest ones dive into the Harry and David tree-shaped box yielding its (dried) fruit every month. It’s a lot of fun! And hopefully speaks to them of the full promise of Christmas.

Good Sam News

Mental Health Conference

On September 14, Good Sam hosted Mending Broken Minds: A Mental Health Conference featuring speakers Dr Andrew White and Cara Dixon. Over two morning and two afternoon sessions, participants learned both practical strategies and spiritual insights for navigating anxiety, trauma, and depression, while delving into both the science and theology of mental health. One attendee expressed gratitude not only for the conference itself, but specifically that it was held in a church:

“Showing that there is space for mental illness in sacred places is important. The church should be a safe space where people can talk about both their mental health and physical struggles; a place where people with mental illness, or their family members, can find support, community, and understanding.”

We are grateful that Good Sam is able to be such a place, and we are thankful for all who attended this important conference.

CPR/First Aid Training

On September 28, 23 people gathered at the church for a CPR/First Aid training and certification session offered by the Emergency Protocol Committee. Over a space of three hours, attendees were trained in first aid basics, how to perform CPR on both adults and children, and how to use a defibrillator.

Over the past few years, several medical emergencies have occurred during church services. Parishioners who are CPR/First Aid trained and certified are able to intervene and assist until paramedics arrive. This training helps ensure that our church is a place where people feel safe and secure, and embodies what it means to be a Good Samaritan.

Fall Fest

The second annual Good Sam Fall Fest and Trunk or Treat was a huge success! An estimated 450 people attended the event, either through serving or through enjoying Good Sam’s hospitality. The Good Samaritan Day School won Best Overall Trunk with their “Good Sam Zoo” themed trunk, and the Connetts, Guenthers, and Hobbs won both Most Creative and Most Enthusiastic Trunk with their golf cart (“Let’s Par-Tee!”).

Thank you to all the youth, parents, and youth leaders who gave of their time, talent, and treats to make this such a wonderful event. We’re already looking forward to next year!

Daughters of the King

On October 5, Diane Gibson was installed as president of Good Sam’s chapter of the Order of the Daughters of the King. Lisa Berton was installed as vice president. The Daughters of the King is an international organization, founded in 1885 “to be the extension of Christ’s Kingdom through prayer, service, and evangelism.” The Daughters take vows to uphold the church in prayer, especially the clergy, and follow a Rule of Life that each member establishes for herself regarding her personal devotion to prayer and service.

Here at Good Sam, the Daughters meet the first and third Saturday each month to discuss service projects, prayer needs, and ways of connecting within the church and with other chapters in the area. The Daughters also pray over all the prayer cards received on Sunday mornings, and are a vital part of the prayer ministry at our church.

For His Sake… I am but one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. What I can do, I ought to do. What I ought to do, by the grace of God, I will do. Lord, what will you have me do?

MOTTO OF THE ORDER OF THE DAUGHTERS OF THE KING

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE DAUGHTERS OF THE KING, OR ARE INTERESTED IN JOINING, PLEASE CONTACT DIANE GIBSON AT TIGGERIFIC8585@YAHOO.COM.

Celebration of New Ministry

The church was alive with joyful organ and brass music, as parishioners gathered to celebrate the institution of Fr Ellsworth as our Rector on Saturday, November 9. The Rt Rev’d Daniel G.P. Gutiérrez presided over the ceremony. Following the Litany for Ordination, Fr Ellsworth was formally welcomed with symbolic gifts from several members of our congregation, with the following liturgy. After each gift was presented, the People responded, Amen

Whitney T. Kuniholm: Phillip, accept this Bible, and be among us as one who proclaims the Word.

Bishop Gutiérrez: Phillip, take this water, and help me baptize in obedience to our Lord.

Betsy Williams: Phillip, receive this stole, and be among us as a pastor and priest.

Diane Gibson: Phillip, receive this Book of Common Prayer, and be among us as a man of prayer.

Mary Anne Weightman: Phillip, use this oil, and be among us as a healer and reconciler.

Andy Balsan: Phillip, receive these keys, and let the doors of this place be open to all people.

Vicki Boase, Sean Ellsworth, and Cynthia Bader: Phillip, take this book and be among the people of Good Samaritan as one who preaches Christ crucified and raised bodily from the dead.

Jeff Moretzsohn: Phillip, obey these Canons, and be among us to share in the councils of this diocese.

Angela Linden and Mary Ernst: Phillip, take this bread and wine, and be among us to break the Bread and bless the Cup.

Bishop Gutiérrez: Phillip, let all these be signs of the ministry which is mine and yours in this place.

Each item represented a distinct part of Fr Ellsworth’s ministry. The stole was particularly meaningful, as it was made by his mother.

After the service, over 140 parishioners, friends, and family joined together in Ashton Hall for a beautifully catered luncheon by Perfect Setting, featuring Sweet & Sour Pork, Miso Eggplant, Jasmine Rice, salad, and dessert.

Ashton Hall was transformed into a stunning, vibrant display of Ikebana-inspired floral arrangements, thanks to the dedicated efforts of Rose Ely and her team. Rose led the group in creating simple yet elegant arrangements in the Japanese style after extensive research. Heartfelt thanks to Rose, Diana Kramer, Deb Ackerman, Jeanne Barger, Barbara D’Antonio, Pam Hicks, Mary Anne Weightman, and Angela Linden for sharing their talents in floral arranging. Eva Schneider, who grew up as the child of missionaries in Japan, added beautiful hanging origami cranes, while Robin Smith contributed creative ideas that made the event truly memorable. Thank you to everyone involved in planning and creating this event, especially Mary Ernst, Linda Haver, and Tracy McGuire, who organized this joyful celebration!

WELCOMING NEW MEMBERS

As a growing parish, Good Sam strives to be a place where folks can “put their bags down.” Here, an introduction to some of our newest members!

Amber and Jack Franicevich

Introduce yourselves, and tell us about your vocations!

Hello, Good Sam! We’re Jack and Amber, and we moved here this summer from Indiana for Amber to take a professorship at Eastern University.

Jack comes from the Northern California wine country in Sonoma County, where he was raised in the Catholic and Episcopalian traditions. Amber comes from both North and South Carolina, and she took her PhD in philosophy from the University of Aberdeen in Scotland. Jack loves serving as a priest in the Anglican prayer book tradition, and his particular interest is in the relationship between the liturgical theology of the Bible and the liturgical life of the Church. Amber teaches in Eastern’s philosophy department and their Templeton Honors College. She’s interested in exploring philosophically the nature of faith, and the virtues of hope, love, and patience.

What drew you two to Good Sam?

When Amber took the position at Eastern, we asked, “Where do all the Anglicans go?” Everyone said, “Good Sam!” Before we moved, we watched some of the services on YouTube and were impressed with the church’s serious attention both to the Scripture and to liturgical tradition. When we arrived in person and began to attend some of the events —a barbecue, a hymn sing—we felt warmly welcomed and immediately at home.

What resonates with you as you worship here?

Jack jokes that it’s the organ swells that Gary plays before the last verse of the Recessional Hymn—but it’s also not a joke! Hardly a week goes by that there isn’t something—a line from a reading, a subtle side-comment in the homily, a phrase from an unfamiliar hymn, or just something about the way a Eucharistic minister raises the host—something that surprises each of us. More broadly, what strikes us about Good Sam is that it’s a place of living tradition. The rites are old, and the worship is alive. The sung and spoken words proceed from both the church’s prayer book and the people’s hearts. In short, it’s the real thing!

You two were married here in October—congratulations! Neither of you are from Pennsylvania—would you tell us why you chose to be married here, and tell us a little about your wedding?

Thank you! When we visited back in April, we could already begin to imagine a future here. As Fr Ellsworth likes to say, we decided quickly to “put our bags down” here, and we wanted to invite our family and friends here so they could witness our new life together in our new church home. The ceremony was beautiful. We had a full, Rite I mass in the Historic Chapel. Organ, choral quartet, all the service music. Amber arranged the flowers herself, with help from some of the women of the church. In fact, the whole day was dependent on the generosity of Good Sam. Jeff Dill helped us host our reception at Wyebrook. Rusty and Robin Smith hosted us at their property for photos. Neeka Guenther connected us with a dayof coordinator, and Josh Guenther provided A/V gear for the reception. The reception felt like an elegant outdoor family party. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. Our philosopher-friend, Esther Meek, delivered a brief keynote lecture on the nature of celebration. Our cheffriend, Laura Clawson, whose specialty is throwing “liturgical feasts,” created a menu based on the meat that Wyebrook had available—literally farm-to-table. Amber’s students served as our wait staff.

Jeanne and Marty Irons

What drew you two to Good Sam?

Ultimately we feel the Lord has drawn us to Good Samaritan. The worship at the contemporary service has been a place we connect and meet with God. We are valuing the liturgy, weekly Eucharist and the meaning of the Anglican traditions. We appreciate Father Phillip’s warm welcome and effort to connect, as well as connecting us with others. We like that the people we have met have come from diverse church backgrounds. We appreciate the value on community service and caring for those in need.

Where have you been led to serve?

Prayer is a place we are led to seek God’s presence, see the Holy Spirit’s work and serve at Good Samaritan.

Janet Prichard and Dale Gluck

We found Good Sam (or was it the other way around?) after some church exploring. We are transplants from the Northwest, and we were finally well settled in a new job and a new home; we just needed you. I knew Good Sam was special when the Holy Spirit enveloped me as the choir sang Trafka’s ethereal Alleluia before and after the Gospel reading. I had never heard that piece of music before, and it was transformative. After a couple Sundays, Fr Ellsworth sought us out and invited us to “put down our bags at Good Sam.” Amazing how those few words of greeting spoke to our hearts.

SMALL GROUP EXPERIENCE

Our community is best expressed when people gather together. How would you describe your small experience at Good Sam?

Tracy and Mike Defina

Small groups are a great way to get to know people on a more personal level, and being connected on a more personal level has allowed us to grow in our faith. A small group helps you get connected to people and makes church feel more personal. You can develop great friendships and have a place to serve and grow spiritually.

Our small group is a space where different views are accepted, which allows for growth both personally and spiritually. Our differences can be a challenge but committing to kindness allows us to share the ups and downs of life together. Social opportunities build relationships, and sharing our faith journeys creates connection.

We have been in several small groups at Good Sam over the past 20 years, and these groups have been like family for us. We grow in faith together, celebrate life’s joys, share comfort in the sorrows and pray for one another! Connection in small groups is a place to experience God alive and active!

Jane and Andy Balsan

The various programs we discovered made us know that this place was a significant church for all ages and styles. And then it was like buying a new car, you see that model everywhere on the road when you didn’t see it at all before: our doctor’s children attended the day school; my knitting circle out in Downingtown knew about the Food Closet; we saw fellow exercisers from the Y worshipping with us during Sunday services.

Yes, this place drew us in, and now we are inextricably linked. Adult Christian Formation has been a wonderful growth opportunity for us. The King David series last summer completely opened our eyes to the culture of the times and the pathway that was laid for Jesus 1000 years later. I have been made richer through InSight Women’s Bible study, and— with three others in the church, including one middle schooler!—started the Healing Hands and Hearts ministry. We knit, crochet, sew, or loom prayer shawls for those who are ill or in grief, meeting every other Friday at church for fellowship, needlecraft, and prayer. Do you know of anyone who would like to join us on our mission to bring God’s warm embrace to someone in need? Your talent would be put to good use.

Andy and I have always been in small groups wherever we have lived. The beauty of the Christian community is that we have plop ourselves into a church small group in England or in Chicago or in Paoli and we have asked people to pray for the struggles we go through and there has been immediate compassion, acceptance, and support. Especially for a larger church, small groups are vital for living and sharing the Christian life that God has designed for us to live as a church. Following Jesus means that I am part of the church family of Jesus. And being part of a church family is sharing in our joys and struggles of living faithfully in all aspect of our lives. This is very hard to do by just going to Sunday worship. It is possible through small groups. I learn so much more about God by working through the Bible together with others and listening to their experiences and perspectives than I do just being on my own. It also spurs me to be more faithful in whatever season of life we are in—as parents, as children of aging parents, at work, or at home. Our small group at Good Sam is committed to loving each other practically, learning more about God, and living faithfully in his ways through our study of the Bible. It is a struggle with the busyness of our culture but we chosen to make it a priority. Being part of a community at Good Sam, no matter your life season, is a vital way to grow in faith, build lasting relationships, and support one another on life’s journey.

IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN JOINING (OR LEADING!) A SMALL GROUP, PLEASE REACH OUT TO JOSH AT JOSH@GOOD-SAMARITAN.ORG OR SCAN THE QR CODE TO FILL OUT A SHORT INTEREST FORM.

Nurturing Growth

CHRISTIAN FORMATION FOR EVERY AGE

Awaken Wonder

BY LEAH SIOMA

Kimberly Lindquist is on maternity leave, so I have the privilege of writing to you on behalf of our family ministry.

“A story is a way to say something that can’t be said any other way, and it takes every word in the story to say what the meaning is.” Flannery O’Connor

Once upon a time, a father longed for children, and he made a home for them, a garden in which they could grow. And after much preparation, his children were born. But these children acted badly, and their deeds exiled them from their Father. So our fairy tale begins. This is a story in which the great Father longs for his children, and we hear many shadow stories of longing throughout the great tale.

It’s also the kind of story where the son of a King rescues the princess. Once upon a time, a wicked curse came upon the people of the earth and the land itself. The first prince tried to conquer the curse, the second prince attempted to, as well. On and on, people try to conquer death and its stronghold, but none prevail. That is, until, in the fullness of time, the Son of a King arrives.

This is our Christian story. And what makes Advent so very, very momentous is that we’ve reached the point in our year where the longawaited child who is also the princely rescuer of our kingdom is about to arrive on the scene. Cue the Hallelujah chorus! At last! Here is the baby who unites us again with our father. Here is the King’s son who will marry himself to what was dead and bloom life.

For unto us a Child is born, Unto us a Son is given; And the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of His government and peace

There will be no end, Upon the throne of David and over His kingdom, To order it and establish it with judgment and justice

From that time forward, even forever.

The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this. (Isa 9:6)

The grandeur of our hope, the breath-taking culmination of our longings is met in the image of our Christ-child in a manger. His life will answer every test and change every thing. This is Christmas!

I know we each will put great effort into gift-giving in the next few weeks. Planning and purchasing, wrapping and card-writing—we’re like the traveling magi bringing gifts of love to the people we care for most.

So in this gift-giving season, I suggest we give our families the gift of our wonder tale, our God’s spell (the old English for gospel). Let’s give something that is realer than real and truer than true, something so deep into the fabric of our universe that it’s imprinted in every story and every human heart. Let’s resist the temptation to make our story into a list of propositions rather than the poetry it is! Instead, let us talk about our Harrower of Hell, the hero who wrestles the serpent, calms the chaos waters, and slays death through death. If the poetry feels opaque, we might need new eyes to see him clearly. Entering through a particularly excellent book, piece of music, or work of art might help. Reading Genesis or 1 Samuel or Jonah might be a way to see afresh in this season. Maybe switch up your normal Bible translation! Maybe attend a live nativity. It’s worth thinking about what we can do together to awaken our wonder. Because from the littlest to the oldest among us, there is much to discover.

I hope that the glory of our story washes over us and directs our celebration. It’s too good to skip over!

YOUTH MINISTRY

Wonderful & Terrible

BY JESSICA CAMPBELL, DIRECTOR OF STUDENT MINISTRY

Last year I attended a conference where one of the speakers was sharing an experience she had with her 13-year-old daughter. Employed by a youth ministry resourcing company, she had been in her office working with a co-worker on the prompt “Tomorrow is...” when her daughter arrived. She asked her daughter to hang out for a bit while they finished and after a while she noticed the girl had picked up some paper and started writing little notes. Pausing to take a look she saw a scrap of paper with the words “tomorrow is wonderful and terrible” scrawled across it. And that is adolescence.

Rudyard Kipling is quoted as saying, “We are the opening verse of the opening page of the chapter of endless possibilities.” But the reality of a blank page is that it can either be written into an epic love story or a tragedy. It could become a comedy or a horror thriller. Depending on your disposition and lived experience, or frankly sometimes the day of the week, an unknown tomorrow could offer a chance to dream about something you have only ever hoped for finally happening or hold a space for every bad thing you have ever been afraid of to start taking shape. Talk about a weighty tension to hold space for, especially when your brain is still forming those squishy little ridges.

Adolescence might be one of the greatest shared experiences we have that can help us understand the “already but not yet” eschatological paradigm. Developed by Princeton theologian Gerhardus Vos, this theological concept holds that as believers we are already actively taking part in the kingdom of God, but the kingdom has not yet reached its full expression.

As adults, our interactions with teenagers can bring us face to face with this theological tension. Just as it might be frustrating for us to see the kingdom of God growing and permeating places in this current age, but knowing that the fullness of the kingdom is not yet being experienced, we might be frustrated looking at maturing adolescents growing and showing glimpses of the people they are becoming while

at the same time making decisions that show how very clearly not yet adult they are. I myself was a bit of a walking contradiction as a teen.

I was labeled by friends as the “sweet one,” always offering a quiet smile. At home, after a screaming match with my mom, I once took my glasses off, snapped them in half, and threw them across the room as I yelled, “Now you have to buy me new ones.”

Adolescents themselves get to experience the true weightiness of this tension as they live out life’s ultimate season of “already but not yet.” They are already responsible for making big decisions that will shape their adult lives as they try on identities and make choices about classes, extracurriculars, significant others, secondary education options, spiritual rites of passage (like confirmation), and navigating hormonal urges and desires. Yet, they have to make these decisions under the eye of teachers and parents who have set rules and expectations that while designed to offer guardrails and safety as they learn, can often feel like smothering restrictions reminding them they are not yet in full control of their own lives.

I recently had the joy of experiencing the cultural phenomenon of the Taylor Swift Eras Tour. My arms were filled with handmade friendship bracelets of sayings and song lyrics, and every place we went throughout the city Swifties would extend their arm and offer to swap bracelets. As I snapped the beaded words “miserable and magical” onto my wrist I hummed the song, 22.

We’re happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time It’s miserable and magical, oh, yeah

Wonderful and terrible. Miserable and magical. Already but not yet.

WOMEN’S MINISTRY

InSight

WOMEN’S MINISTRY

BY BONNIE O’NEIL, INSIGHT CO-LEAD

InSight

SPIRITUAL formation

InSight Women’s Ministry relaunched this fall with the Come Together kickoff breakfast in September. We welcomed close to one hundred women—both old timers and newcomers, young and old—to explore what life together in the Spirit might look like for us as women of Good Samaritan. Sharing our stories around the tables, we discovered many beautiful differences between us, but the same Spirit uniting us.

InSight

WOMEN’S outreach

In October our spiritual formation team offered a contemplative prayer walk at Valley Forge Park. Quieting our own voices and limiting distraction are two terrific ways to better hear from the Lord. InSight Practice—our monthly opportunity to discover Christian spiritual practices to incorporate into our daily life—kicked off in October with teaching on breath prayers and lectio divina, and also met in November with teaching on meditation in Scripture and imaginative prayer. It’s a great way to quiet the soul after a loud and chaotic day.

InSight

WOMEN’S retreats

“ The Come Together event was AMAZING. From start to finish, it was clear that a group of prayerful, wise women came together and first and foremost, asked God what he wanted to do. As someone who recently moved and joined Good Sam, it meant the world to me that you did the flower arranging as a way of finding a table because I didn’t feel out of the loop of finding table mates. The flowers were also so beautiful and an amazing party favor. Truly, thank you so much. I couldn’t have asked for a better morning.” GENEVIEVE ELLSWORTH

InSight

WOMEN’S BIBLE STUDY

We had scheduled a night of Fellowship Around the Fire to warm our hearts on a chilly fall night, but due to drought-induced burning restrictions had to postpone it. Be on the lookout for another opportunity to light up the dark night together around the bonfire!

And coming on February 21-22, 2025 will be our Staycation—an on-campus retreat that is truly geared for mind, body, and spirit! Our theme for this very interactive retreat is Belonging: To God and To One Another. Stephanie Rousselle will unpack this theme during two talks, which will be interspersed with fabulous workshops that run the gamut from silly to serious, artistic to athletic, cerebral to culinary. This is an ideal event to which to invite your non-church friends!

Save the dates: Friday and Saturday, February 21 – 22

Staycation

ON-CAMPUS RETREAT

Belonging: To God and To One Another

Learning and Living the Nicene Creed

BY CHRISTOPHER A. HALL, THEOLOGIAN-IN=RESIDENCE

Chris Hall is teaching the eight-class series Learning and Living the Nicene Creed through Sunday December 15

Our class on the Nicene Creed is near completion. What do I hope are some take-aways from this class?

I think the phrase “the Holy Spirit has a history” expresses well my hopes for you as our class ends. Sometimes we’re tempted to think the church was riding the railroad tracks smoothly in the first century CE, but jumped the track as we moved into the second century and only got back on track in the 16th century, with the help of friends like John Calvin and Martin Luther. If so, we end up with a significant gap in our understanding of how God has worked throughout the church’s history.

We’ve seen, however, that the Lord has loved his church throughout that history and faithfully guided it whenever the winds have blown hard, and the water got rough.

I’m thankful that in the fourth century CE, the Holy Spirit—with the Father and the Son—guided the church to clarify, understand, and express the wonder and beauty of who God is and how God has acted on our behalf in Christ. God wants us to know what God is like, and shows us in “the image of the invisible God”—Jesus (Col 1. 15).

So, my hope is that the Nicene Creed class is the beginning—not the end—of a journey we can take together into the wonder and beauty of God. I suggest that you occasionally revisit the class on the resources page of Good Sam’s website, and perhaps begin to build a library around the specific themes we’ve discussed in class. For instance, you might take a look at Life in the Trinity by Donald Fairbairn (IVP Academic, 2009), or a book I wrote with Roger Olson titled The Trinity (Eerdmans, 2002). Sometimes you might think the water is getting a bit deep, but I’m convinced you’re now ready to swim.

See you again soon in a future class! God bless.

ADULT CHRISTIAN FORMATION

Senses and Scripture

Jonathan Purifoy is teaching the four-class series Senses and Scripture resuming Sunday December 22

Inspired by his love for science and Scripture, Jonathan Purifoy is offering a four-class series exploring the varied ways our senses help us experience God and understand his character. Building on the sense of sight, which introduced this series back in May, Jonathan will reframe familiar stories and metaphors from Scripture by focusing in turn on our sense of taste, our sense of smell, our ability to hear, and our capacity for touch.

You are encouraged to experience Jonathan’s energetic, wonder-filled teaching style in person between services or later via the recordings on our website. Prepare to be surprised by all that emerges when we study the Bible without forgetting that we are creatures. For we are not minds only, but are created bodies to whom God has revealed himself through the eyes, tongues, noses, ears, and skin he has imagined and made for us.

In the class on taste already offered, Jonathan dug into the science of taste buds and flavors before walking us through the stories of manna offered in the desert, Jesus’s first miracle turning water into wine at the wedding, and the Last Supper Jesus shared with his disciples before his death. Through the lens of taste, we learned that God provides for our needs abundantly but not excessively. We remembered that God saves the best for last, and we cannot outrun or outlive his capacity to give good gifts to his children. And we feasted on the satisfying mystery that God has chosen to feed us with himself.

Join us for Senses and Scripture to consider how God uniquely shows his nature to us through each of our senses. May we be challenged together to still our spirits in order to receive more of God with more of ourselves.

GOOD SAM AUTHORS

A selection of books from some of our authors here at Good Samaritan! Perfect for magi-esque gift-giving for the people we love this season.

BY CHRISTOPHER A. HALL

A Different Way: Recentering the Christian Life on Following Jesus

Reading Scripture with the Church Fathers

BY CHRISTIE PURIFOY

Placemaker: Cultivating Places of Comfort, Beauty, and Peace

Seedtime and Harvest: How Gardens Grow Roots, Connection, Wholeness, and Hope

BY ELRENA EVANS

Special Grace: Prayers and Reflections for Families with Special Needs

When I Go to Church, I Belong

Living Wisely with the Church Fathers

The Mystery of God: Theology for Knowing the Unknowable with Steven Boyer

BY BONNIE O’NEIL

My Flower Garden Life: A Delightful Planner for Plotting and Planting

Chronic Hope: Raising a Child with Chronic Illness with Grace, Courage, and Love

BY WHITNEY T. KUNIHOLM

Top 10 Bible Stories

The Essential Jesus

My Identity Is In Christ: Discovering the Freedom God Always Intended

John: An Eyewitness Account of the Son of God

“The best gifts in life don’t simply drop from above... Instead, the best gifts, like the gifts of my sons and my daughters, and like the gift of every one of our homes, are those that invite our participation, our prayer, our desire, and only then, when we have so much more to give, our gratitude. Because ‘a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.’”

CHRISTIE PURIFOY, PLACEMAKER

Benediction

BY ELRENA EVANS, CREATIVE SPECIALIST

God of contrasts

Your created world cradles the mountain heights

And the depths of the sea

In both, we see facets of your glory.

God of contrasts

Your divine plan cradles difficult journeys

And moments of rest

In both, we see facets of your goodness.

God of contrasts

Your perfect love cradles our deepest sorrows

And our radiant joy

In both, we see facets of your grace.

God of contrasts

Be with us this season and always.

212 West Lancaster Avenue | Paoli, PA 19301

hello@good-samaritan.org | 610.644.4040 good-samaritan.org

UPCOMING EVENTS

Friday December 13 | 6:30 pm

Good Samaritan Dance Ministry

Christmas Concert:

Eternal Light: Our Confident Hope

Tuesday December 17 | 6 – 8 pm

Youth Christmas Party

Tuesday December 24 | 11:15 am

Christmas Eve Family Service With special interactive elements for children.

Tuesday December 24 | 5 pm and 8 pm

Christmas Eve Services

Pre-service music begins at 4:30 pm, with traditional choral music at the 5 pm service. Contemporary music at the 8 pm service.

December 24 | 10 am Christmas Day Service Chapel

For our upcoming event listings, visit good-samaritan.org/events