O God, whose mercies cannot be numbered: Accept our prayers on behalf of your servant Sylvia, and grant her an entrance into the land of light and joy, in the fellowship of your saints; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.
—The Book of Common Prayer, Burial of the Dead, Rite II

Sylvia Burton, a woman of strong opinions and can-do attitude, and a parishioner at St Philip’s for over 20 years, passed away on September 27, 2026. She died at Casa de La Luz hospice shortly after the discovery of pancreatic cancer. Her husband, Herb, twin sons, two granddaughters were at her bedside.

Although born in Texas while her father was on assignment, she grew up in Nogales. Sylvia loved the bicultural environment and considered herself an Arizonan, often telling tales of her pioneer Arizona ancestors. Her passions included family, travel, oil painting, and bridge. She graduated from the University of Arizona and was a lifelong Wildcat; she supported students in the Arts, Sciences, and Engineering.

Sylvia loved Saint Philip’s and lent her talents to many ministries: she sang in the choir for over 20 years; strongly supported Rising Stars concerts; helped design and produce the Sacred Arts booklet; made avocado toast for the First Sunday Breakfasts; and often helped with other parish food events, including Thanksgiving dinners. Under Fr Kitagawa, Sylvia served as the Vestry’s recording secretary, and until recently as the secretary of the Finance Committee.

There will be a service to celebrate Sylvia’s life at St Philip’s on Saturday, January 16. The time will be announced closer to the date.

Please hold Sylvia in your prayers.

Hopi Prayer

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on the ripened grain.
I am the gentle Autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die.