What if every congregation in Michigan could multiply its ministry—serving more people, offering more care, and strengthening its community—simply by being better stewards of the spaces they already hold sacred?

In the heart of Detroit’s historic Corktown, St. Peter’s Episcopal Church has stood for over 160 years as a beacon of hope—serving hundreds through food programs, shelter, and vital community support amid rapid neighborhood change. But a couple of years ago, they had to come to terms with aging electrical and climate control systems - some of which had not been updated since the 1970’s. 

Ministries Coordinator Kateri Boucher  

Deacon Moore from New Mt. Hermon Missionary Baptist Church in Detroit said of the church, “There was a time you couldn't sit in the hallway by the doors because the air was blowing in, especially in the winter, it would just chase people right out. Now we can't get them out of the hallway. They’re all sitting out there comfortable, laughing, talking, because of the improvements we made.” A ten plus year vision of becoming a resiliency center led New Mt. Hermon to apply for Sacred Spaces, and later join the Michigan Community Center Grant. Now, thanks to this program and others, the congregation is one step closer. 

Elected officials and community members celebrate the installation of New Mount Hermon’s solar panels, December 2024

I come from people who say “uff dah”—a Norwegian American exclamation you might use when finally sitting down to relax after a long day, or when several inches of snow have fallen and you’re imagining the effort it will take to bundle up and shovel. It’s a flexible expression that can be used across a range of circumstances (good and bad), but mostly describes something remarkable, surprising, or overwhelming.

Now that you’ll know what I mean, I’ll begin my year-end reflection in my native parlance:
Uff dah. It’s been quite a year.

We’ve had some setbacks as a nation and as an organization. You might say that Michigan IPL’s setbacks mirror a slice of what our country as a whole is facing. Exciting legislation was passed, funds were appropriated, contracts were signed, and meaningful investments into our communities were promised… then taken away.

The cancellation of federal grants cut Michigan IPL’s budget this year by 40% and prevented us from hiring two additional full-time staff members who would have empowered more congregation partners to better serve their communities—especially those on the margins.

Our financial outlook for next year is even more challenging.

I'm writing this to share the goodness we’re still sowing in the world—in spite of all this—and also to ask: will you consider including Michigan IPL in your year-end giving?

Fr. Charles Morris has named Michigan IPL in his bequest, reflecting his commitment to the vision he has nurtured since 1992, when his early efforts to rally faith communities around climate action first began.

Fr. Charles offering a blessing over the solar panel installation he helped bring to life at Madonna University in 2017.

What if flipping a light switch could reflect your values? At The Muslim Center, in Detroit, a wave of clean energy upgrades—powered by the Sacred Spaces Grant and the Michigan Community Center Grant (MCCG)—is doing just that, turning faith into action through smarter, greener spaces.

Abdur Rasheed's dedication to serving others shines through at the Muslim Center

Some of you know my story. My family’s story. It is a hard story, but it is part of my DNA and it has shaped me into who I am today.

Left: Bishop Rayford Ray leads communion at the 129th Convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Northern Michigan. Right: Presenters and attendees of Hope & Healing: Engaging Indigenous Cosmologies & The Gospel In Action (left to right): Rayford Ray, Steve Godfrey (both with Diocese of Northern MI), Sarah Augustine (author), Lydia Bucklin (Dean of Episcopal Divinity School), Sheri Hostetler (author), and another individual from the Episcopal Divinity School

My mother Gertrude, who I wish you had known, was strong and courageous. She was born in 1926 in Trier, Germany to Susanna and Anton. She was one of 12 children. Most of her siblings died at birth or early childhood. My mother lived through World War II, along with her remaining family.

Her father, Anton, was known for speaking truth to power as he advocated for others. He stood with his Jewish neighbors as the Gestapo came to take them away to the concentration camp. As he advocated for them, the authorities told Anton that “he would be next if he didn't stop harassing them.” 

"God answered our prayers," proclaimed Reverend Joyce Redfearn one December day upon receiving the announcement that St. Luke CME had been selected for Sacred Spaces. 

Rev. Redfearn speaking at St. Luke's clean energy program - Biblical Principles for Taking Care of the Earth - September 2024.

Every Tuesday, as pastors gather at Holy Trinity Lutheran church in Chassell, Michigan (in the Keweenaw Peninsula) for text study and community reflection, one topic keeps rising alongside scripture: the urgent, undeniable importance of energy conservation in an age of overconsumption.

Pastor Soren, congregants and a new fridge, new heating system and new lights!

What if your church building could do more than just host ministry—what if it could actively strengthen it?

At Trinity Reformed Church in Grand Rapids, described by Pastor Benjamin Bruins as “a place for people to gather, to share and embody the story of God’s love for all of Creation,” simple energy upgrades have become powerful tools for deeper service, faithful stewardship, and lasting impact in the community.

At our recent Witness for Creation event (organized with Creation Justice Ministries), Pastor Sarah Van Zetten Bruins blessed baptized attendees with water from the Grand River (visible in the background). She stood with other leaders, including our director Leah Wiste, to deliver a bold and urgent call to care for Creation.

A simple log church built in the 1840s, surrounded by a beautifully natural open-wooded area, marks the site of a long sacred meeting place, Greensky Hill Indian United Methodist Church. This church was constructed with large hewn logs notched at the corners and laid horizontally over a stone foundation. Although Greensky Hill is a beautiful place to experience the wonder of Creation, the aging facilities often diminished attendees’ comfort and enjoyment—and with limited financial resources, the church had no way to address these challenges on its own.

Greensky Hill pastor Sarah Scheaffer, Jennifer Young from MI IP, and Greensky congregants 

“They don’t make those parts anymore,” recalls Michele Westen, a lay leader at Asbury United Methodist Church in Flint, describing the moment they realized their decades-old boiler—essential for surviving harsh winters—was failing. With energy costs rising and a six-figure replacement looming, the church faced a stark reality: without action, this kind of crisis could force a congregation to close its doors.

Youth selling produce at local farmer's market and Asbury's vibrant greenhouse