St. Mary Magdalene Episcopal Church

02/19/2026

A Lenten Reflection

"Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness" (Matthew 4:1)

Lent begins in a place most of us would not choose: The wilderness.

It's unfamiliar territory. Empty. Isolated. In the wilderness we lose the comfort of routine, and the easy distractions that we use to drown out our inner world. There, we sit with our thoughts-yearning, hunger, discomfort. The noise is gone, and we are left faced with the burgeoning clarity of what we truly depended on.
It's a space where we are exposed, and all of our inner demons become loud.

When Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness (Matthew 4:1), He too faced that isolation. After 40 days of fasting, He was hungry (Matthew 4:2). The devil offered easy escape, comfort, power. But Jesus responded, "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God" (Matthew 4:4; Deuteronomy 8:3).

This Lent, we are invited into our own wilderness-away from distractions, into the raw honesty of what we truly give our hearts to. These things are cast in high relief once they are no longer easily accessible. Here we have the opportunity to see ourselves clearly.

In this place, we can hear the command and invitation "Be still, and know that I am God." (Book of Psalms 46:10).

Sit in the silence. Embrace it. Let the distractions fall away. Let's let Christ's own journey into the wilderness be an example for how we can face the deepest and darkest parts of ourselves with courage.

And there, just like Christ, we are not abandoned. The wilderness is where God's Word sustains. The wilderness is where angels come and minister (Matthew 4:11).

Step into this Lenten season knowing that life may be uncomfortable. We are not guaranteed ease of passage through this incarnation. Not even Jesus, the Son of God, was given that. But it is not ease that allows us to grow, nor ease that strengthens us. Ease does not teach us how to love, cultivate patience, or know humility. Ease does not teach us how to develop courage, how to be sacrificial, how to serve others, or how to meet all with dignity and compassion.

It may be quiet. It may be frightening. It may be lonely, and it may be hard. But it is here, in the empty places, that we meet the God who has already walked this path before us. And it is here that we remember who we really are.

You are the child of a King who is not moved by the world. He goes before you, and strengthens you.

Be not afraid.
The wilderness is not the end of the story. It is where we, the beloved of God, are tested, and are proven true.

01/21/2026

The Church will often tell us that as Christians we are called to holiness, to become saints. But what does that mean?

Often, we misinterpret this and it results in our feeling like we have failed, like we are not enough, like we could never live up to those expectations.
We must remember that sainthood does not mean becoming Christ. We are human and called to be Christ-like not Christ Himself. And Jesus never asked us to carry what was not ours to bear.

What, then, does holiness ask of us? The Gospels tell us clearly:

Matthew 16:24 says "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."

Mark 8:34 says, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."

Luke 9:23 says, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me."

Your cross. Not His cross. Denying yourself does not mean to lose your identity, it means to find your identity in Christ.

Holiness for us asks for obedience, not omnipotence. Faithfulness, not self-sacrifice that forgets its limits. Love, not control. Authenticity, not perfection. The saints understood this. They carried their crosses faithfully. They followed Him, they did not try to replace Him.

They knew when to step back and place the outcome in God's hands.

Each of us is given a cross shaped by our own life, our own gifts, our own calling, and our own limits. These are assigned by God, not chosen by pride or pressure.

To follow Christ is not to save everyone, fix everything, micromanage others, or suffer endlessly for the sake of appearing holy. The cross He gives us is not about control, martyrdom, or exhaustion. It is about obedience, trust, and love within the boundaries God Himself has set for us.

When we forget this, holiness can quietly turn into pressure, and devotion turns to burnout. We take responsibility for things that were never ours to carry. In this, there is a sort of spiritual pride; to assume we are to be accountable for all outcomes.

God has it handled. When He gives us instruction, we listen and obey. What comes after that is not for us to question. There is an incredible grace in this faithful surrender. But it does require that we deny what we think is best, what we want to happen, what we are most invested in.

The saint is not the one who saves, but the one who obeys. And when we live as faithful disciples rather than attempted saviors, our lives proclaim the truth at the heart of the Gospel:

Soli Deo Gloria. To God alone be the glory.

12/11/2025

Esther's story reminds us that even when God's name seems absent, His hand is not. A young woman with no power, no title, and no certainty found herself positioned exactly where God needed her for "such a time as this."

Before she acted, she fasted. Before she spoke, she waited. And when the moment came, she stepped forward with a courage that shook both earthly and spiritual kingdoms.

Esther teaches us that bravery is born in surrender, that discernment is a form of spiritual warfare, and that God can use ANYONE to bring deliverance and hope.

May we listen for His timing, to stand when it matters, and to trust that even in the silence, God is moving behind the scenes.

Let us pray.

+ In the name of the Father and of the Son, and of the Holy spirit.

Heavenly Father, when Your presence feels hidden, teach us to trust Your quiet work. Give us the courage of Esther; to listen, to wait, and to rise when Your moment arrives. Strengthen our hearts to stand for truth, to intercede for those in danger, and to embrace the calling You place upon us for such a time as this. Amen.

12/10/2025

Anne B. Howard is a retired psychiatric RNC, Certified Spiritual Clearings Practitioner, Christian mystic, and Certified Religious Demonologist with St. Mary Magdalene's Order of the Seraphim Guard. Anne's knowledge of psychiatric medicine serves as an invaluable asset in discerning cases of affliction, and she has extensive experience serving those in need of guidance and support in spiritual warfare.

12/10/2025

Nicole Gaspard serves as a Religious Demonologist and member of The Order of the Seraphim Guard at St. Mary Magdalene. Nicole pulls from her academic study of world religions and training in religious demonology to support individuals experiencing spiritual oppression. Her mission is to provide ethical, faith-centered assistance to those seeking spiritual insight, protection, and guidance in times of need.

12/09/2025

Anna Schmidt is a Religious Demonologist and member of The Order of the Seraphim Guard at St. Mary Magdalene. Her 40 year passion for assisting those with spiritual affliction and her relationship with Christ and the Archangels has lead her to work remotely from Tasmania, Australia. Anna hosts a podcast where she brings awareness and education regarding spiritual warfare.

12/08/2025

Rev. Mother Lesley Bonga is a priest and exorcist for St. Mary Magdalene Episcopal Church. She serves as the Apostolic Administrator for the Episcopal Church (USA) under Celtic Cross Communion, and is the Chief Exorcist for the Celtic Cross Communion. She has a bachelor’s degree in Psychology with a minor in Latin and attended Walden University for her Master’s in Clinical Counseling, specializing in Marriage, Couples, and Family Therapy. Lesley also serves as the Director for the Order of the Seraphim Guard and trains Religious Demonologists for the Church.

11/26/2025

https://youtu.be/XzWpa0gcPyo?si=JL7htk8fGu30gESb



At St. Mary Magdalene Episcopal Church, we use because we recognize ourselves in the ancient story of God's people living under Babylonian rule. Caught between revolt, assimilation, and faithful endurance. Some Israelites rebelled violently, others surrendered their identity to Babylonian culture, but a third, quieter group chose a different way.

They remained faithful to the true God while learning to live with courage, clarity, and spiritual groundedness in a world that did not share their beliefs. These are the ones who built altars, small places of worship and remembrance., right in the heart of their captivity.

We claim that same spiritual path. Many of us know what it feels like to be outsiders, misunderstood, dismissed, or spiritually displaced. Instead of running away from exile or letting exile define us, we build altars in the very places where we were once wounded or silenced. We create sacred spaces-literal and symbolic-where God's presence is honored, where healing begins, and where identity in Christ is reaffirmed.

Our altars aren't signs of defeat; they are declarations of hope and spiritual defiance.

is our proclamation that we will not bow to the false gods of fear, perfectionism, exclusion, or cultural pressure. We will not assimilate into systems that diminish the dignity of God's people. Neither will we hide from the world. We will not vanish into the shadows of a world that misunderstands us.

Instead, we choose the way of Jesus-the faithful remnant who stays rooted in divine love while living courageously amid the realities of modern Babylon. We build altars to remind ourselves and others that even in exile, God dwells with us, empowers us, and calls us to transform exile into worship.

This is the heart of our identity: wherever God's people stand- even in places that once felt foreign or painful- we build altars, we keep the faith, and we make it holy ground.

If followers of Jesus are to give their total allegiance to God’s Kingdom, how should they relate to the governments and power structures of their own day? I...

11/22/2025

Have you ever attended a church where you were told you were not welcome to receive Communion? We have heard many people who share this experience, and how painful and confusing it can be. For some, this leaves a lasting wound of rejection that feels like it came straight from God.

Here at St. Mary Magdalene Episcopal Church, we want you to know that God wants YOU at His table.

In the Episcopal Church, the Eucharist belongs to Christ, not to a denomination. Because all the baptized are members of His Body, all the baptized are welcome at His table.

The Holy Eucharist, also known as Communion, is a gift, not a reward. It is the Real Presence of Christ given for healing, forgiveness, and strength. You do not have the be perfect to receive. The Eucharist shapes our repentance.

If you are baptized in Christ, you are part of the one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic Church. Nothing else is required to receive Holy Communion.

St. Paul warned against receiving "unworthily" but this refers to receiving with hatred, division, or contempt, not with imperfection. If you are seeking Christ, you are welcome here.

No priest or denomination can bar those whom Christ has already embraced. The early Church welcomed all the baptized, and so do we.

So, you, who hunger for Christ, come.
You who are weary or wounded, come.
You who seek healing, hope, or a new beginning, come.
All baptized Christians are invited to receive Holy Communion at St. Mary Magdalene Episcopal Church because the Eucharist is not a gate, it is Grace. Healing. Home.

And if you are not baptized, but desire to be, please reach out to us. We are always happy to welcome those seeking a deeper relationship to Christ Jesus.

11/13/2025

"Father, forgive them; they know not what they do" Luke 23:34

Beloved in Christ, as we gather beneath the shadow of the Cross, we hear again the words that broke heaven open: "Father forgive them; for they know not what they do."

These are not the words of a man defeated. They are not the last breath of a victim. These are the words of the eternal priest-our High Priest-interceding even as He is wounded, rejected, mocked, and crucified.

And in that moment, Jesus reveals the heart of the Kingdom: mercy that refuses to wait for an apology, love that refuses to be poisoned by hatred, compassion that does not depend on the worthy.

When Jesus said, they know not what they do," He is not excusing the injustice-He is exposing a deeper truth: that sin binds, fear distorts, pain twists intention, and human beings often act out of wounds they cannot see.

His forgiveness does not dismiss the wrong, it heals the deeper sickness beneath it. And so, when we are betrayed, judged, misunderstood, or harmed, Christ invites us into His own priestly posture. It is a stance that refuses to let darkness decide our response. A stance that says:

I will not become what wounded me. I will not let bitterness write my story. I choose mercy-not because they earned it-but because Christ first showed it to me.
Forgiveness is not forgetting. It is not naive trust. It is not pretending the harm never happened.

Forgiveness is opening a window in a locked room so the breath of God can enter and heal what resentment would otherwise suffocate. It is releasing the other person from your judgment, and in turn you are released from the prison their actions built.

Christ on the Cross shows us this; forgiveness is the victory cry of the spiritually free. It is the weapon that disarms hell itself. It is the path back to our own wholeness.

Let us pray.
In the Name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Most merciful Father, in the mystery of the Cross, Your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, revealed a love beyond our deserving and a mercy deeper than our sin. As He prayed for those who wounded Him., grant that we, who also stand in need of forgiveness, may learn to forgive as He does.

Cleanse our hearts of bitterness, free our minds from the burden of resentment, and heal the wounds we carry, both those we have received and those we have inflicted.
Teach us to see, with the eyes of Christ, the fear behind the harm, the confusion beneath the offense, and the brokenness within every human heart.

Make us instruments of reconciliation, ministers of compassion, and witnesses of that holy mercy that flows from the pierced side of our Savior. By the power of Your Holy Spirit, shape us into the likeness of Your Son, steadfast in love, patient in suffering, and generous in forgiveness. Let His words, "Father forgive them" echo not only in our prayers, but in our lives, that we may reflect His grace to all whom You place in our path.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with You, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

Amen.

11/01/2025

John 15:19 "If you were of the world, the world would love you as it's own; but because you are not of the world, I chose you out of the world-therefore the world hates you.

There is quiet power in the elder's words: "Do not be afraid. If you truly live as a Christian, the world will renounce you."

It's a truth that sounds harsh until you understand it's also deeply liberating. We spend so much of our lives trying to "fit in", trying to make the edges of our souls less sharp, our convictions less inconvenient, our light a little dimmer so others are not disturbed by it. But Christ never called us to comfort. He called us to conversion.

Jesus Himself was an exile, a Savior who owned no home, a King who wore no crown of gold, a truth-teller rejected by His own. And yet it was precisely in that rejection that redemption took root. He didn't conform to the world's pattern; He revealed Heaven's pattern.

When the world renounces you for your compassion, for your faith, your unwillingness to bow to its idols, it's not proof that you've failed. It's a sign that you belong to another Kingdom. A Kingdom where mercy outlasts judgement, and love refuses to surrender to fear.
So do not mourn when the world does not understand you. Do not despair when you walk a lonely road. You are walking in the footsteps of the Christ who was misunderstood, mocked, and crucified-and yet, through His holy exile, the world was saved.

Let your refusal to fit in become your act of worship. Let your holy difference be your declaration of loyalty. You are not rejected, you are set apart. You are not abandoned, you are anointed for something eternal.

So build your altar in the wilderness. Light your candle where the night is thickest. And when they ask why you no longer fit in, simply say: it's because I've been called to stand out-for the sake of the One who stood alone for me.

Pray with me. In the name of the Father+, and the Son+, and the Holy Spirit+
Lord Jesus, exile of Heaven, who walked among us rejected yet radiant with grace, teach us the courage to be faithful when the world turns away. May our difference be holy, our witness be loving, and our lives be altars upon which Your light never dims.
Amen.