Anglicans are drawing near to immigrants and refugees both in our neighborhoods and around the world. As North American Anglicans, we are not alone in learning to love those who are immigrating to our neighborhoods. Christians around the world have set such a beautiful example for us to follow in how we welcome the stranger, entertaining angels unawares. Today’s story looks at the work of one such Christ-follower: Rev. John Chol Daau.

I had the chance to catch up with my friend and seminary colleague Rebecca Osborn. She and her husband, Jared, are priests serving the Lord in Iqaluit, Canada.

The recently launched Anglican International Student Ministry Network (AISMN) held its first conference to connect Anglicans seeking to reach the 1.6 million international students currently in North America.

A few years ago, Bo and I watched the show The West Wing. I liked the character, C.J. Craig (Alison Janney) who played the White House Press Secretary and then the Chief of Staff. C.J. was successful and powerful.…

Strolling along the beautiful water behind her picturesque Savannah home one evening, Carol Rogers Smith had an encounter with Christ. She knew in that quiet moment God had called her to serve His people.

Rev. John Chol Daau is an Anglican priest, journalist, and teacher. John spent his early years in the rural and indigenous culture of the Jieng people of Baping in South Sudan.

My mother’s family is Danish, so I grew up with Hans Christian Andersen’s Fairy Tales and play figurines.

The thing I love most about New Wineskins is the relationships. The New Wineskins Triennial Conference is often described as a “great family reunion” and the same is true for our yearly board meetings. I look forward to them all year long and always learn so much from my fellow board members. It is great to get out of my normal routine and see what the Lord is doing across all cultures and contexts.

A few years ago, I was talking with a in sister in the Lord. We were discussing our work. I was in seminary. She was working at the movie theater. I’ll never forget when she said, “Well, I’m not like you, Lilly. I just work in the mall.” My heart broke a little. For Christians when we describe our vocations the words “I just…” should never enter the equation. Every Christian, a priest of God’s kingdom, His royalty on heaven and earth, is never just anything. We are all in service to the king. All of us, through our lives, relationships, and vocation are a critical part of his plan to save humanity and redeem the earth.

Bishop Leslie Newbigin argued that there are two world religions: the Christian faith and everything else. These two world religions can be summed up best as, “One in which we laboriously ascend to God and the other, in which God descends to us” (The Gospel in a Pluralistic Society). To laboriously ascend is to spend your life climbing a spiritual mountain. Picture God at the top imperiously looking down on his creation, while we climb to meet him, suitcases in hand. Backpacks strapped on.

These days you often hear about mission strategies, development, objectives, and programs. Effective ways of evangelism, business plans, mission statements, vision casting, and church growth. A few months ago, my husband, Bo and I had the opportunity to look at several different Anglican church profiles and mission statements. They had one thing in common: all of them had church growth at the top of their priority list.

I set off on my bike for the Garifuna village to spend the afternoon with friends, to stroll on the beautiful Tela beach along the Honduran coast. Before I knew it, it was getting late and I knew, as a young single girl living in a foreign land, that I’d better hurry home before it got too dark to be out on my own.…

We had been in Honduras for a few months when I decided to wander off in the crowded San Pedro Sula market to “look for care bears.” I was three years old, but I still remember my mother’s frantic expression, running through the rows of vendors, with my older sister in tow. “Busca mi nina,” she called over and over in her broken Spanish. She was sweating, half-crazed, and crying when she swooped me into her arms, shouting, “never do that again!”