Pastoral Notes and Reflections

14 May 2025

When Justice Feels Delayed 

There are times when it seems like people get away with doing terrible things. They lie, hurt others, twist the truth, and walk away untouched. Maybe even rewarded. If you’ve ever looked around and wondered, “Why?”, you’re not alone. Scripture asks the same question.

The prophet Jeremiah cries out,

“Why does the way of the guilty prosper? Why do all who are treacherous thrive?” (Jeremiah 12:1)

These aren’t the words of someone who’s given up on God. They’re the words of someone who trusts God enough to ask the hard questions. That’s part of the gift we’ve been given in the Anglican tradition, a faith deep enough to hold both lament and hope. We know the world is not as it should be. Sin has warped what God created good. People and systems alike are bent by fear and greed. Sometimes it feels like there’s no justice in sight. But that doesn’t mean God isn’t present or paying attention.

In his second letter, Peter reminds the early Church that God’s timing is not our own.

“The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance.” (2 Peter 3:9)

So what looks like delay might actually be mercy. God’s justice isn’t absent, it’s just not always immediate. And when it comes, it will be more than punishment, it will be restoration. That’s the kind of justice God offers, one that heals what’s broken and sets things right. And remember from my sermon earlier this year, God's justice isn't fair, at least not by the standards of our society. But we’re not meant to sit and wait. We are the Body of Christ, called to speak the truth, care for the vulnerable, and walk the way of love, even when it’s hard.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu once said,

“Goodness is stronger than evil, love is stronger than hate, light is stronger than darkness, life is stronger than death.”

That’s not just something nice to believe. That’s Easter truth. That’s resurrection hope. That’s the Gospel.

So when it seems like the wicked win and justice is nowhere to be found, remember—the story isn’t over. Christ, who suffered injustice and rose from the grave, will have the last word. And that word will be love. That word will be healing. That word will be peace.

Until that day comes, we have a calling. We are to keep witnessing to the risen Christ. We are to walk in love, just as he loved us. We are to care for those in need, to keep showing up in prayer, to keep breaking bread together. We are to hold fast to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, and to proclaim by word and example that evil never gets the final say. Easter does. 

Easter 2025

"Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest." ---Luke 24:8-9

Beloved,

Early on that first Easter morning, a few faithful women went to the tomb. They didn’t go expecting resurrection. They went expecting to grieve. But what they found wasn’t what they imagined. The tomb was empty. The stone was rolled away. And then came the invitation that changed everything: “Remember how he told you…”

That word—remember—has been sitting with me this Easter. The women didn’t see Jesus in that moment. They didn’t hear his voice or touch his hands. But they remembered. They remembered what he had told them, what he had promised—and somehow, that remembering was enough to spark hope. To give them the courage to run back and share the good news.

Here at All Saints’, we know the power of remembering. We remember the ones who came before us, the story we gather around, and the love that holds us together. We remember that even in the face of death, God brings new life.

This Easter, whether you come full of joy or carrying questions, I hope you hear this promise: Christ is risen, and nothing—not fear, not grief, not even death—can separate you from the love of God.

Let’s keep remembering. Let’s keep telling the story. Let’s live as people of resurrection.

With Easter joy,

Fr. Brandon

Holy Week 2025

“But all his acquaintances, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.” —Luke 23:49

Beloved,

There is a holy hush that settles over this week. A sacred ache. A knowing that we are standing at the threshold of something too deep for words. And maybe that’s why his acquaintances, including the women, stood at a distance. Not because they didn’t love him. Not because they were afraid. But because when the Divine bends low into human suffering, when heaven bleeds into earth, sometimes all we can do is watch. Wait. Hold space for mystery. They had followed him from Galilee, through healings and feedings, through storms calmed and tables overturned. And now, they stood in silence. Witnesses to pain. Carriers of memory. Keepers of love.

This is the invitation of Holy Week.

Not to understand it all.

Not to tie it up with a theological bow.

But to stay present in the mystery.

To stand with the ones who are suffering.

To stay near, even when hope seems hidden.

To trust that even in the silence, God is still moving.

Some of us come to this week weary. Some of us come wounded. Some of us come wondering if resurrection is still real in a world that crucifies. But here’s the miracle: those who stayed and did not look away were the first to hear the angel whisper, “He is not here. He is risen.” So stand with us, even if all you can do is whisper a prayer or light a candle. Come to the Table on Thursday, where mystery meets bread. Stand at the foot of the Cross on Friday, where Love does not run. Wait in the stillness of Saturday. And when the sun breaks over the tomb, come ready to witness wonder. 

Because the veil is thin this week, and the Holy is nearer than our very breath.

In faith, hope, and love,

Fr. Brandon

20 January 2025

Pastoral Letter from Father Brandon

"Justice, justice you shall pursue." (Deuteronomy 16:20)

Beloved in Christ,

As followers of Jesus, we are called to live into our baptismal covenant, striving for justice and peace among all people and respecting the dignity of every human being. Today, this call feels especially urgent as we witness the imminent threat and inhumanity of mass deportation sweeping across our nation and even touching lives here in Bentonville.

Mass deportations separate families, destabilize communities and contradict the sacred teachings of our faith. Scripture repeatedly reminds us of God’s care for the sojourner, the refugee, and the marginalized:

• “You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Deuteronomy 10:19)

• “I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.” (Matthew 25:35)

To remain silent in the face of such injustice is to sin by omission, ignoring our Christian responsibility to confront systems of oppression. Bentonville is not immune to these realities. Our local immigrant community contributes richly to the fabric of our city, from cultural vitality to economic growth. Yet, there are individuals and families in our midst who live in fear—fear of being torn apart, fear of losing the lives they have built here.

We, as the body of Christ, cannot turn away. To pursue justice is not an option; it is a mandate.

Locally, I encourage us to advocate for compassionate policies and resist efforts that exacerbate fear and division. This means holding accountable our elected officials, including those on the Bentonville City Council and within state leadership, to ensure that Arkansas does not become complicit in these unjust actions. Contacting your representatives and attending city meetings are practical steps to amplify voices calling for change.

The Episcopal Church has long stood as a voice for the vulnerable and oppressed, offering resources and guidance for action. I encourage you to explore:

• Episcopal Migration Ministries (EMM): Supporting refugees and asylum seekers nationwide (www.episcopalmigrationministries.org)

• Office of Government Relations: Advocating for immigration reform (www.episcopalchurch.org/OGR)

• Arkansas United: A local organization advocating for immigrant rights (arkansasunited.org)

Our parish can also take direct action. Let us create spaces of welcome, offer assistance to immigrant families in need, and partner with organizations working on the ground. We can commit to prayer, education, and advocacy, standing in solidarity with those who suffer.

Beloved, the prophet Micah reminds us of our divine calling: “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8). Let us not be silent. Let us be bold in love, tireless in our pursuit of justice, and unshaken in our faith that God’s kingdom is one where no one is cast out.

Yours in Christ,

Fr. Brandon Haynes