Community of Joy: Quinn Casey

Submitted by Amy Alstad as an article to the May 29, 2026 issue of Weekly Wisdom.

Dear Holy Wisdom Community,

It is a real pleasure for me to feature Quinn Casey in this next installment of our ‘Community Joy’ series. Erin conceived these articles as a way to lift up what is good, true and joyful, as well as highlight community members whose contributions and connections to Holy Wisdom might not be visible to many. Quinn’s grandparents, Biby Gubler-Casey and Bob Smith, will be familiar to many in the Sunday Assembly community. For the past couple years, Quinn has been an integral member of the land care volunteer team. Because of her work schedule, she is primarily volunteering evenings and weekends. I am deeply grateful for her generous contributions of time and energy, and I hope you enjoy reading about her connection to this place.

Blue skies,

Amy

From Quinn, in her own words:

I come to Holy Wisdom weekly to work on the grounds, whether that be mowing trails in the prairie, tending to the memorial courtyard, weeding, mulching, planting, or whatever else is needed. I’ve been working in horticulture for a few years, so I have the honor of getting to drive the monastery tractor and use some of the other fun equipment to manage such an expansive and intricate area. I coordinate with the land management team but usually do my work on my own and use the time for prayer and contemplation. I’ve always felt that I connect with God most deeply when I’m working with the land. It’s a gift to have time to slow down and reflect. It makes me feel grateful for the world that I live in, for my ability to contribute to it, and witness the miracles of nature.

The first time I ever visited Holy Wisdom was for the celebration of life for my grandmother, Biby Gubler-Casey when I was thirteen. I remember the monastery being a place of solace for me, where I felt comfort while going through the tumult of my first experience with grief. We planted the serviceberries that still grow (albeit dilapidatedly) along the side of the monastery where we spread my grandmother’s ashes. Amy has agreed that we can replace these trees with something more suited to that side of the monastery someday, though I admire the perseverance of these skinny little serviceberries- growing through a harsh environment with the determination of my grandma!

My grandfather, Bob Smith, was Biby’s husband and my dad’s step-dad. He was a priest as a young man and left the priesthood in his late 20’s. The explanation for why he made this choice varies depending on who you ask – ranging from disagreement over certain church doctrines to “loving women” – all respectable reasons in my opinion. Having him as a grandfather was one of the greatest gifts in my life. He was deeply loving, intelligent, and fun, and embodied his spiritual values in everything he did. He taught me how to practice spirituality in my own way from a young age, encouraging me to focus my prayer on gratitude. Holy Wisdom meant so much to him. I think it exemplifies his idea of what a place of worship ought to be. Everything that Holy Wisdom stands for reminds me of his values and the way he lived his life.

Towards the end of his life, my Grandpa Bob got really into a song by Iris Dement called “Let the Mystery Be”. It’s not his usual type of music at all, and my family still likes to laugh when picturing him jamming out to a folky country song. The lyrics of the song are what he connected with most, here’s a snippet :

Everybody’s wondering what and where we all came from. Everybody’s worrying about where we’re gonna go when the whole things done. But no one knows for certain and so it’s all the same to me. I think I’ll just let the mystery be.

The song goes on to examine different ideas of what awaits us at the end of life. The singer concludes that her form of faith is to “just let the mystery be”. After a life devoted to the study and practice of religion, I believe my grandfather came to a similar conclusion. As a former priest and a man of his own, strong convictions, I think he practiced a religion that drew from so many inspirations but was a form all his own. Holy Wisdom was the place where he felt at home in that practice, and I’m sure he didn’t make that choice lightly. This is also where he chose as his final resting place alongside my grandmother.

As we all know, participation and membership in organized religion is absolutely tanking among young folks today. I have a hard time explaining to people of my generation why spirituality is important to me. For many, it carries a connotation of intolerance, rigidity, or dogma. As a gay woman myself I can certainly understand where these assumptions come from. But Holy Wisdom is a unique place. Here, I feel that the culture is guided by the principles of religion that my grandfather sought to live by – acceptance, kindness, gratitude, community – to name a few. When I stand in the prairie, I feel the loving energy that exudes from everyone who continues to build this place together.

I grew up in Tomahawk, Wisconsin, then went to college and lived in Washington DC for a while, where I met my wife. We spent some time in the Philippines together where I studied and taught ceramics before settling down here in Dane County. I now work as a horticulturist at Epic.