From the Rector…
“In my end is my beginning.”
This line from T. S. Eliot’s poem East Coker was first spoken by Mary, Queen of Scots. You may remember the story of Mary, her sister Elizabeth I, and their father, Henry VIII. Mary was the legitimate heir to the English throne, but because she was not male, her half-brother Edward ascended first. His reign was brief, and upon his death Mary inherited the crown. At her coronation, she declared England a Catholic kingdom. Her rule, however, was short-lived. She was eventually overthrown and executed, and her sister Elizabeth was crowned, restoring Anglicanism to the realm.
Mary was a faithful Catholic, and her words—“In my end is my beginning”—are not simply an allusion to her death. They reflect an awareness of legacy and a profound understanding of life’s cyclical nature of death and renewal. The phrase invites us to think of life not only in linear terms but also in sacred cycles. It reminds us that the spiritual journey is one of continual renewal, where endings make room for new beginnings and the fleeting nature of earthly life is held within the promise of divine eternity.
When I reflect on these words, I am reminded that the worst things are never the last things—and that even the last things are not truly the end.
So often, we become focused on moving from one appointment to the next or simply getting through the day. In the process, we miss the quiet renewal happening all around us. We rely on GPS maps to get us from point A to point B. We structure our lives around career ladders, promotions, and measurable progress. Our human world rewards linear thinking: school years move from first grade to twelfth, each year building upon the last. We define developmental stages and social hierarchies that reinforce the idea that life moves forward in a straight line.
There is nothing inherently wrong with understanding the world this way. Linear thinking serves us well in many aspects of daily life. But it can also limit our imagination, trapping us in a mindset of beginnings and endings. While that may work for human systems, it is not how God created the world.
God created a cyclical world. The planets circle the sun. The seasons follow one another year after year—winter, spring, summer, and fall. Plants move through cycles of birth, death, and rebirth. Even the animal kingdom understands this great circle of life—just ask Simba.
We are born. We grow old. We die. Yet in God’s economy, this is not the end—it is the beginning.
Today is the final day of 2025, and it gives birth to a new year filled with possibility and hope. I pray that in your ending, you may discover your beginning: a renewed way of embracing God, one another, and all of creation. May your new beginnings draw you into deeper truth, greater joy, and the quiet assurance of God’s ever-present love.
Happy New Year!
Light and Life,
Candice+