We celebrate our lives in Christ, proclaiming an authentic faith for real people. We proclaim God’s love for all through ritual, song, prayer, scripture, silence, beauty, and communion. To best protect our community from the spread of COVID-19, all church events have moved online. Please visit our online church hub at stlukesrenton.org/livestream for livestream liturgies, […]
We celebrate our lives in Christ, proclaiming an authentic faith for real people. We proclaim God’s love for all through ritual, song, prayer, scripture, silence, beauty, and communion.
We celebrate our lives in Christ, proclaiming an authentic faith for real people. We proclaim God’s love for all through ritual, song, prayer, scripture, silence, beauty, and communion.
We celebrate our lives in Christ, proclaiming an authentic faith for real people. We proclaim God’s love for all through ritual, song, prayer, scripture, silence, beauty, and communion.
We celebrate our lives in Christ, proclaiming an authentic faith for real people. We proclaim God’s love for all through ritual, song, prayer, scripture, silence, beauty, and communion. To best protect our community from the spread of COVID-19, all church events have moved online. Please visit our online church hub at stlukesrenton.org/livestream for livestream liturgies, […]
We celebrate our lives in Christ, proclaiming an authentic faith for real people. We proclaim God’s love for all through ritual, song, prayer, scripture, silence, beauty, and communion.
We celebrate our lives in Christ, proclaiming an authentic faith for real people. We proclaim God’s love for all through ritual, song, prayer, scripture, silence, beauty, and communion.
We celebrate our lives in Christ, proclaiming an authentic faith for real people. We proclaim God’s love for all through ritual, song, prayer, scripture, silence, beauty, and communion. To best protect our community from the spread of COVID-19, all church events have moved online. Please visit our online church hub at stlukesrenton.org/livestream for livestream liturgies, […]
We celebrate our lives in Christ, proclaiming an authentic faith for real people. We proclaim God’s love for all through ritual, song, prayer, scripture, silence, beauty, and communion.
We celebrate our lives in Christ, proclaiming an authentic faith for real people. We proclaim God’s love for all through ritual, song, prayer, scripture, silence, beauty, and communion. To best protect our community from the spread of COVID-19, all church events have moved online. Please visit our online church hub at stlukesrenton.org/livestream for livestream liturgies, […]
We celebrate our lives in Christ, proclaiming an authentic faith for real people. We proclaim God’s love for all through ritual, song, prayer, scripture, silence, beauty, and communion.
A half-hour of silent meditation begins at 5:30 pm. We gather in the sanctuary (altar area) of the church. To best protect our community from the spread of COVID-19, all church events have moved online. Please visit our online church hub at stlukesrenton.org/livestream for livestream liturgies, Zoom classes, prayer requests, bulletins, and other news.
Icon by Kelly Latimore | Text by Lora-Ellen McKinney
Kelly Latimore’s “Our Lady of the Journey” is part of a series inspired by a small statue known as La Peregrina (“The Pilgrim”), discovered at the Franciscan Novitiate community near California’s St. Ines Mission. Though little is known about the statue’s origins, the sisters lovingly referred to it as “Our Lady of the Journey,” a title that inspired Latimore to reflect on the countless journeys undertaken by the world’s women.
The icon presents Mary not only as the mother of Jesus, but as a companion to all who travel along difficult roads. She represents refugees seeking safety, women who walk long distances each day to obtain water or attend school, mothers searching for shelter, and families striving for more secure futures. In Mary’s face we see courage, endurance, and unwavering love.
The journey depicted in the icon is both physical and spiritual. Many women carry burdens that are unseen: grief, poverty, discrimination, violence, loneliness, or uncertainty. Some mourn the loss of loved ones. Others struggle to believe in their own strength while working multiple jobs, caring for children, or rebuilding their lives after hardship. Before any outward journey can begin, there is often an inward journey—the difficult work of hope, perseverance, and faith.
Latimore’s icon honors these women as bearers of dignity and resilience. Mary stands as a sign of God’s presence among those who travel through challenge. She reminds viewers that every step taken toward safety, justice, opportunity, and love is sacred. “Our Lady of the Journey” invites us to recognize the holiness found in ordinary acts of courage and the enduring power of a mother’s hope for her children.
Holy God,
You entrusted your Son to Mary, a young mother asked to carry a holy future she could scarcely imagine. You walked with her through uncertainty, danger, exhaustion, and hope, teaching her that she would never journey alone.
Be present now with mothers throughout the world: those fleeing violence, seeking shelter, gathering water, working long hours, grieving losses, or carrying burdens unseen by others. Remind them that every child entrusted to their care is precious, bearing dignity, promise, and your image.
Strengthen those whose journeys are measured in miles and those whose journeys are measured in courage. When fear overwhelms them, grant confidence. When resources fail, provide companions. When the road grows long, renew their hope.
Teach us to honor, protect, and support all who nurture the next generation, that every family may find safety, justice, and opportunity, and every child may flourish in love.
Through Jesus Christ, who journeyed among us as Mary’s child and the Savior of the world. Amen.
Icon by Kelly Latimore | Text by Lora-Ellen McKinney
In this contemporary icon, artist Kelly Latimore places Dorothy Day in the streets of New York City, where she devoted her life to serving people living in poverty. At the door of a Catholic Worker house of hospitality, Day encounters a homeless family: Mary, Joseph, and the infant Jesus.
The scene reimagines the biblical story of the Holy Family seeking shelter. Instead of arriving at an inn in Bethlehem, they appear as unhoused people in a modern city. Dorothy Day stands ready to welcome them, embodying her lifelong commitment to hospitality, justice, and human dignity.
The icon invites viewers to see Christ in those who are often overlooked, excluded, or dismissed. Day believed that every person bears the image of God and that caring for those in need is central to the Christian life. The image reflects her conviction that refusing to recognize the divine image in another person is a denial of the mystery of the Incarnation—God becoming human in Jesus.
Through warm colors, familiar urban surroundings, and sacred symbolism, the icon bridges the distance between biblical history and contemporary life. It challenges viewers to ask who is welcomed, who is turned away, and where God might be found today.
“Dorothy Day and the Holy Family of the Streets” reminds us that holiness is often encountered at the margins of society and that acts of compassion can become sacred encounters. In welcoming the stranger, we may discover that we are welcoming Christ himself.
God of every doorway and every street,
You came among us not in power but in vulnerability, seeking welcome in a world that often turns seekers away. In Dorothy Day, you revealed a heart open to the stranger and a faith that recognized your image in every person.
Grant us eyes to see Christ in those who are unhoused, hungry, lonely, ostracized, or forgotten. Give us courage to offer hospitality, to seek justice, and to welcome one another with compassion and dignity.
That our communities may become places of refuge and belonging, where your love is made visible in the world.
Amen.
Icon by Kelly Latimore | Text by Lora-Ellen McKinney
Kelly Latimore’s icon of Mary breastfeeding the infant Jesus presents a tender and deeply human image of the Incarnation. Rather than depicting Christ as distant or triumphant, the icon reminds viewers that God entered the world as a vulnerable child who depended completely upon the care of his mother.
For centuries, Christian artists have portrayed Mary nursing Jesus, often under the title Maria Lactans—Mary the Nursing Mother. These images affirm a central Christian belief: that Jesus was fully human as well as fully divine. He experienced hunger, dependence, growth, and the ordinary needs of infancy. The nourishment Mary provides is both physical and symbolic, revealing God’s willingness to share fully in human life.
The icon also honors the sacred vocation of caregiving. Mary is shown not as a queen on a throne but as a mother engaged in the daily work of sustaining life. Her actions reflect the countless parents, grandparents, foster parents, guardians, and caregivers whose love is expressed through ordinary acts of feeding, comforting, protecting, and nurturing.
At a time when the human body is often viewed with discomfort or suspicion, the icon proclaims the goodness of creation. The breast that nourishes a child becomes a sign of God’s abundance and care. The relationship between mother and child reveals divine love expressed through tenderness, trust, and mutual belonging.
Ultimately, this icon invites contemplation of a God whose touch is personal. In the nursing Christ Child, viewers encounter a Savior who began life as every human being begins: dependent upon another’s love. Through Mary’s nurturing embrace, the icon celebrates the holiness of motherhood, the dignity of the body, and the mystery of God dwelling among us.
Holy God,
You chose Mary, young in years and rich in courage, to carry your love into the world. She fed your Son from her own body and learned that extraordinary callings are lived through ordinary acts of care.
Bless all who nurture life: parents of every kind, grandparents, foster parents, guardians, teachers, and all who stand watch over the young. Be strength for the weary, companionship for the lonely, and hope for those who cannot yet see the road ahead.
Remind us that every child is sacred, bearing your image and promise. Following Mary’s example, may we nourish one another with compassion, encouragement, justice, and hope, helping all people grow in dignity, wisdom, and love; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Icon by Kelly Latimore | Text by Robert Davis
To you who are reading this:
If you are unhoused, you know what it is like.
Even if you are currently housed, maybe you have experienced what it is like to not know where to go, to not have a safe place to be, to be unable to rest.
Have you ever been evicted?
Slept in a car?
Slept wherever you could find a place?
Have you ever had to leave with only what you could carry?
If you have never experienced any of these, you are fortunate.
Imagine it happening to you.
Coming home from work, you find the locks changed and your possessions on the curb. Beds, clothes, television. Maybe some of it has already been scavenged by passersby. You knew you were behind on rent, but thought you still had some time. You work so hard but money is so scarce.
Maybe your kids are there, locked out, waiting for you. Weeping. They came home from school and couldn’t get in. Their beloved bike is gone.
You can take only what will fit in your car. And you need room for everyone to sit. Maybe room to sleep. Can you afford a night in a hotel?
What about the night after that?
The night after that?
Many shelters are full. Many can’t accommodate families.
What do you do?
A tent and some sleeping bags. Yes. You can charge that. In a tent city, other people will be there, who already know how to live this way.
They will help you.
You have worries. You know that sometimes encampments are cleared by the authorities. Sometimes everything a person owns in the world ends up in a dumpster.
But you’re hanging on.
You can keep your family together.
You always have.
You can rebuild.
You always have.
You will rebuild.
The safety and kindness of new neighbors give you hope.
Sheltering God,
forgive me for all the times when I look the other way,
the times when I imagine that the hardships of others are not my own.
Help me, help all of us,
to change our society.
May it not be this kind of place—
a hell that throws human beings away.
Icon by Kelly Latimore | Text by Sharon Johnson
Three-Person God, open my eyes, my ears, my heart
to every human being … every lifeform … every habitat,
atmosphere, and force of nature.
Three-Person God, encircle me … surround me with grace …
fill my empty places with your love.
Three-Person God, help me care for and respect all that you
have entrusted to us.
May it be so
ever and always.
Amen.
Twenty centuries ago,
theologians suggested we think of God
as a Trinity—three divine persons in one—
persons who came to be called Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—
perhaps to express
God’s infinite wisdom | God’s transcendence | God’s continued presence
in the world, in our lives.
How might we re-imagine the Trinity today?
Perhaps—
WOMEN OUR CULTURE PUSHES TO THE MARGINS. Women who might be indigenous … Indian, African, and Asian … neighbors who need our help.
Perhaps—
God’s invitation to each of us: CREATE, HEAL and BE A RIVER OF GRACE in this world. Now. Today.
Perhaps—
3 persons who remind us we are here to CONNECT & CARE FOR & RESPECT ourselves … those we know … those we have yet to meet … the entire biosphere.
Icon by Kelly Latimore |
Text coming soon
Icon by Kelly Latimore | Text by Matthew Frazier
Creator of All—Our best and brightest are so frequently beguiled by egotistical pursuits. Driven by fear, greed, and the promise of power, we toil under these same heavy burdens. Forgive us for seeking to be always more and to have always more; for protecting ourselves while harming others; for increasing destruction while decreasing in humility. We have been out for dominance and by placing our selves at the center of everything, others became collateral damage. Change us.
Neither a violent nor non-violent act, the motion and posture of Jesus seems to suggest a dance. With a slight, wry grin, Jesus is possibly even enjoying a bit of fun in this supernatural act of destroying a modern weapon with his own hands. While Jesus knows the unspeakable pain that such weapons of war cause, he embodies the release of that pain while also putting an end to gun violence altogether.
