When you follow the Light,
you realize you want to leave the world
better for your having been in it,
to live your life as
a thank-you note to God.
-The Rev. Susan Woodward Springer
The Rev. Susan Woodward Springer
I’m an Episcopal priest and rector of an historic downtown church in Boulder, Colorado. People in my congregation are committed to their spiritual growth, grounded in contemplative practice, passionate about inclusivity and social justice, and willing to watch with me for the invitations of the Holy Spirit and to follow along. Read more about us on the St. John's Episcopal Church website.
Before I answered the call to this vocation, I worked on an offshore oil rig, operated heavy equipment alongside longshoremen, dispatched helicopters from the Aleutian Chain, fought fires, hunted and fished to help feed my family, wrote books, ran small businesses, and served in local politics in a small Alaskan town off the road system. In one way or another, most of it turned out to be good preparation for the priesthood.
I never set out to be a priest. I never even dreamed of the possibility. I grew up in the Episcopal Church at a time when altars faced the wall, women did not lead worship, and prayers were drawn from a book compiled in 1928. I loved it all. I remember hearing the priest announce one Sunday in 1974 that eleven women had been ordained in Philadelphia. I remember thinking how odd that was. I remember feeling off-center, as if a foundation had shifted slightly and dislodged me. I remember my mother, leaning past me to whisper (in her best Georgia accent) to my aunt: “I will nevah support a woman in the pulpit.” Thank God that, years later, when I heard my own powerful and surprising call to the priesthood, she completely changed her mind.
(Continue reading about the Reverend Susan Woodward Springer's thoughts on vocation.)
WORKSHOPS, CLASSES, AND SERMONS
PREACHING
For five years I served on the board of directors of The Episcopal Preaching Foundation and taught at their Preaching Excellence Program (PEP) for seminarians and at diocesan continuing education conferences for clergy. I am available to teach any of these workshops or develop something additional to meet your needs.
CONGREGATIONAL DEVELOPMENT
I’ve worked as a consultant to a couple of congregations in transition, helping them prepare well for their next spiritual leader and the next chapter in their parish’s ongoing story. I offered “Opening the Windows: Becoming a Spirit-filled Church” as the keynote and accompanying workshops for the Diocese of Nevada’s annual convention (2017). I am available to speak on any of these topics, or to develop something additional to meet your needs.
ADULT SPIRITUAL FORMATION
This is a sampling of classes and series I’ve developed for use in the parish. I am available to offer these in your parish or diocese or to work with you to develop a teaching series on a topic of your choice.
SERMONS
You can also listen to a sampling of my sermons, preached over the past several years at St. John's Episcopal Church in Boulder.
Ancient liturgies can occasionally accommodate fresh interpretations: children place tiny hearts in the baptismal font to visualize what it is we’re doing when we invite the Holy Spirit to enter it. We are asking that the love of Christ infuse, enliven, and sanctify the water, and do likewise to all it touches.
Speaker
I once heard Richard Rohr give a talk in which he said, “Clergy do a great job of telling their congregations what to believe and a terrible job of teaching them how to live.” I’ve not forgotten that, and it’s one reason I follow the call to teach. I have the kind of mind that enjoys organizing information, enjoys thinking systemically, and enjoys extracting universal truths from reflecting on lived experience. I speak to inspire faith communities and the clergy who lead them. I endeavor to present provocative questions and ideas that get people thinking differently about worship and congregational life. If I can offer new perspectives, energy, hope, and practical skills, then I’ve been faithful to my calling.
“Susan’s keynote and workshops at our [2017] diocesan convention was the most practical and effective presentation we have ever had. Our clergy and vestries took her teachings home and are implementing them to build stronger, healthier, more faithful congregations.”
I was invited to serve on an interfaith panel for the "God and Smog" conference at Utah State University in October 2018. I joined LDS, Hindu, and Buddhist colleagues. Each of us gave a talk about the theology and practice of creation care in our respective traditions, and then engaged in discussion with one another, with scholars, and with the audience. Photo courtesy Eli Lucero/Herald Journal
I grew up in the 1960’s, a time of glory for mainline Protestantism. On Sundays, it seemed everyone went to church, and families gathered afterward for mid-day dinner. The rhythm of it was as dependable as the rise and fall of the tide. The world is different now. Religion in America has all but died to its old way of being—and yet it’s needed now as much as it ever has been. We can cling to a nostalgic view of the past and strive to recreate it, or we can acknowledge in faith that God is inviting us into new ways of being the Body of Christ.
I believe that God is dynamic and not static, and—as one earthly manifestation of God—faith communities are called to be likewise: to be aware, responsive, agile, and connected to the towns and cities in which they reside. I believe that the very same Holy Spirit who breathed life into the void at the dawn of Creation, who whispered in the ears of prophets, and who was exhaled from the lips of Jesus onto his disciples is alive and well in the Church today.
If I believe in the presence and power of the Spirit, then it follows that I believe that parishes in decline are not necessarily dying but rather are in the process of being transformed. Because the Spirit is in the business of bestowing aliveness, transformation may include some dying but it always also includes some resurrection. Nationwide we are experiencing aging and decline, and yet that trajectory is at this moment crossing with another trajectory: the emergence of a new manifestation of Christianity. If we want to be involved with this new life the Spirit is bringing forth, we have to make that choice*.
I take issue with the assumption that small, rural, under-resourced churches are doomed to die. Consider that the entire ministry of St Paul centered on speaking to small congregations (25 people or less!) who felt ill-equipped and understaffed. These are the congregations who transformed the ancient world*! These are the congregations who were the agents of change! Might they be so again today?
*Thanks to The Rt. Rev. Rob O'Neill for these good and wise insights.
"The key to essence is presence" reads the message on this juice stand along the Camino de Santiago. I didn't notice the words at the time this photo was taken, but they are deeply congruent with the wholehearted and "all-in" way I endeavor to show up as a priest, a speaker and a human being.
Writer
My friend John shared with me an article that compared the creative processes of Pablo Picasso to Paul Cezanne. Before Cezanne created a painting he undertook countless studies, working and reworking them methodically until he was satisfied with the composition. Only then did he begin to paint. In contrast, Picasso when inspired would grab a canvas and a brush and paint furiously, with the urgency of one trying to relieve some great internal pressure. The article posited that these two different ways of creating can be seen in those who write, as well. If that is so, then like Picasso I write because of a creative force that builds up inside and calls out to be released.
Phrases, sentences, lines of poems, and entire sections of text come to me while hiking. They come when I’m driving. During one memorable period, musical melodies and lyrics came almost daily as I drove to work and demanded I pull over to the roadside to capture them on scraps of paper. One summer while painting woodwork at my cottage in Maine I was continually pestered with stories, bits of dialogue, descriptive matter, and interesting turns of phrase. I’d put down the paintbrush, scribble thoughts with a carpenter’s pencil, take up the paint brush, paint a section, put down the paintbrush, scribble thoughts with a carpenter’s pencil, and take up the paint brush again. Back and forth it went in a not terribly efficient counterpoint. “The creative process is a process of surrender, not control,” said artist and writer Julia Cameron. I agree, and it occurs to me that so likewise is the Christian life.
When I compose a sermon, I’ve learned to sit down and just begin. Having read the texts and meditated on them, I simply place my hands on the keyboard and begin. The neural pathways between my brain and my fingers sometimes feel like interstate highways, and the act of writing brings the kind of exhilaration you get from driving a car really fast. As many preachers will tell you, inviting the Holy Spirit into a writing partnership is a great adventure.
Each week for nearly six years I’ve written a theological reflection to my parish. Those essays expound on everything from a conversation with a stranger to the journey a lost iPhone takes to current events in the life of the world and the church. Writing is how I make sense of things. Theological writing is how I make sense of things and God together.
Theological reflections
For the last six years I’ve written to my congregation at the beginning of every week. This column, which goes out to about 450 households, offers stories, theological reflections, teaching, and an inside look at what’s happening in our common life. It is a way for busy, geographically dispersed parishioners to stay connected to our church, and to develop their own theological ways of looking at the world. It is also a very dear spiritual practice for me, and a way of pastoring people I may not get to see nor speak with often. You can read some past issues of The Rector's Pen here.
Books, articles, and essays
The Misadventures of Seldovia Sam series:
Seldovia, Alaska: An Historical Portrait of Life in Zaliv Seldevoe-Herring Bay
Alaska .... Pure Poetry; A Natural History Coloring Book for children & their parents
Getting Ready for Winter — Written in the midst of August chores at my cottage in Union, Maine, this essay was published in the October 2015 issue of DownEast Magazine.
Climate Change and Tidepool Inhabitants — This (unpublished) 2016 article was purchased by DownEast Magazine, and was commissioned to study the effects of climate change on the inhabitants of Maine coast tide pools. Interviews with a marine scientist at Bigelow Laboratory for Ocean Sciences in East Boothbay explored how warming water temperature and ocean acidification impact some keystone species.
Poetry
In Praise of the Soft Time of Night —2018
Meditation on Psalm 19 —2018
A Saturday poem — 2018
Resurrection in the neighborhood — 2017
Walk along the Rough-and-Ready Ditch — 2016
Five gifts of a birthday hike — 2016
The Last Season — Written during a walk with the dogs at Boulder Valley Farm, 2015
Afternoon ride — This poem wrote itself as I rode, 2014
Walking into the wind — 2014
From a mountain meadow in the sun — Written during a late winter hike in the Roosevelt National Forest, 2014
About the Reverend Susan Woodward Springer
Biography
In the 1920’s my intrepid grandmother and her five children (my father among them) made their way in a Model-T station wagon from New Jersey to Maine. Grandmother Hawkey eschewed driving, so her children took it up, including one who reportedly drove as though she was dancing ballet, and my father who at age 15 was granted a license by mailing a dollar to an office in Bangor. The family settled in the Boothbay area, where they had vacationed. They set down roots in the state that remain to this day. (continue reading biography)
Resume
A copy of my full resume is available upon request: please use the contact form below.
For Media use
A short reprintable bio plus downloadable photos are available on my media resources page.