What About Mary?

Meditation onLuke 24:44-53

Reverend Dr. Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Ascension Sunday

May 10, 2026 (Mother’s Day)

Johann Koerbecke, artist, c. 1420 to 1491.

I wrote letters to our Irish relatives yesterday, thanking them for their hospitality while we visited a few weeks ago. As I wrote, I smiled as I remembered my conversation with cousins Margaret and Elizabeth about our children. This was something we had in common—our love and concern for them, though all are grown, and some with spouses and children of their own. You never stop worrying about your children, do you?

On this day when we both honor and give thanks for our mothers and remember and rejoice in Christ’s Ascension, I find myself thinking about Jesus’ relationship with his mother. I find myself wondering, “What about Mary?”

I was delighted to find a work of art this week that features Mary at the Ascension. The artist is Johann Koerbecke, who lived from 1420 to 1491. This particular piece is on display at the National Gallery of Art in Washington D.C. While there is no mention of Christ’s mother in this passage in Luke, we know that she was likely with her son in his last moments on earth and will be with the other disciples waiting and praying for the Holy Spirit in the Upper Room at the beginning of Acts. In this 15th century painting, Mary is the only woman, and she is the only one with a halo, looking up with the disciples as Jesus ascends into the sky, his hand in a gesture of blessing. A beardless young man with blond curls has his arm around Mary, offering support. He is the beloved disciple from John, the one standing with Mary near the cross when Jesus says to her, “Woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from that time on, this disciple took her into his home.

You know, there’s not much written about Mary in the Bible. That shouldn’t surprise us. There’s not much written about any woman in the Bible. They usually but not always play minor roles; they are someone’s wife, widow, or mother. But you’d think there would be more about Mary, especially considering the important role she played in the life of the One who came to be the Savior of the world.

She only appears in the four gospels—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—and Acts and only briefly.  She is mentioned most often in Luke—12 times, mostly in the first two chapters, in the infancy narratives that we read at Advent and Christmas. She hears the angel’s announcement, is startled but asks good questions (“How is this supposed to happen, again?”) and believes, because she already trusts in God. Mary courageously leaves on a long journey, alone, on foot, to visit with her older relative, Elizabeth, who is also pregnant, though she had been barren. Both women know that they are part of God’s much larger mysterious plan for the world. Mary sings a joyful song she has composed, beginning:

My soul exalts the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.
For He has had regard for the humble state of His bondslave;
For behold, from this time on all generations will count me blessed.
For the Mighty One has done great things for me; and holy is His name.

She is well acquainted with Hebrew scripture because her song is often compared to the song of Hannah (1 Samuel), when she learns she is pregnant with Samuel after years of carrying the shame of being barren. When Joseph learns of Mary’s pregnancy in Matthew—a gospel where Mary is only mentioned 5 times—he considers breaking off their engagement quietly. He is a good man and doesn’t want to publicly disgrace her. But an angel tells him what God is doing, and that his role is to protect and care for Mary, who will give birth to the Messiah. “And you will name him Jesus,” the angel says, “because he will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:21) Magi follow the star to Jesus in Bethlehem. They fall down and worship Mary’s son. In Luke, the shepherds come to visit Mary and Jesus in Bethlehem. They amaze everyone with their story, and Mary “treasure(s) all these things, pondering them in her heart.” She and Joseph present Jesus in the temple when he is 8 days old, and they marvel at what Simeon and Anna say about him—that he will bring redemption for Jerusalem and be a light for revelation to the Gentiles.

But after these miraculous and joyful events, Mary’s relationship with Jesus becomes increasingly complicated and, well, human. You can tell she is stressed. When he is 12, Mary and Joseph bring him to Jerusalem for the Passover, and he wanders off without telling them where he is going. They panic and look high and low. Finally, they find him in the Temple, sitting among the teachers and asking questions. They are astonished. Mary (not Joseph) is the one who speaks to him sharply, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously looking for you.” Jesus doesn’t appear to understand their concern. And they don’t understand when he says to them, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” But he goes home with them to Nazareth and is obedient to them, and once again, “his mother treasure(s) all these things in her heart.”

Sadly, Mark and John hardly mention Mary. We hear nothing of Jesus’ childhood or Mary’s mothering in John, nor is Jesus’ mother called “Mary.” But when Jesus is about 30, and is at a big wedding, they run out of wine. Mary takes charge and is the one who tells her son, “They have no wine,” meaning, “Do something about it.” Jesus calls her “woman” (not mother) and tells her it isn’t his time to do these things, and you can feel the tension when she ignores him. She tells the servants to do whatever he tells them to do—and he does exactly what she expects—and this is the first of his signs, when he turns water into wine.

Mary has heard the words of angels, shepherds, magi, and prophets, and has seen the miracles her son can do; still, she doesn’t always get it right. Her instinct is to protect him and try to keep him out of trouble. One of the most touching scenes is in Mark when she and his brothers and sisters come to “restrain him for people are saying, ‘He has gone out of his mind.’ They are standing outside the place he is staying and calling to him. They send someone to tell him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” “Who are my mother and my brothers?” Jesus says, dismissing the messenger. In trying to make a point about this new family of faith, he rejects the one who gave him birth. “Here are my mother and my brothers!” he says of those sitting at his feet. “Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”

 Like Mary, sometimes we know things about our children—their gifts and talents, strengths and weaknesses—before they do. We see glimpses of what and who they will become when they are still very young. But we don’t know what God has planned. That’s why the most important thing we do is simply to love our children—just love them—and trust that God will guide and strengthen us and them for the lives they are called to lead. We can only trust the Lord, who loves our families—our children!—even more than we do, and pray.

Speaking of families, we welcome Phyllis Oakes back into the fold today. She was a member of our congregation for a long time and found joy serving the children in Sunday School. Then the Lord led her to move to a different place in another season of her life. But the Spirit has brought her home so that she may be closer to her biological family and continue to grow and be encouraged by her family of faith.

Luke ends his gospel with this brief account of the Ascension—three verses—to be continued in his second work, the Acts of the Apostles. But Luke’s story and our story—in which we still live and await the final consummation of things—is not over, yet. This Jesus who sits on the right hand of God, as we say in the Apostles’ Creed, will send and continue sending the Spirit he has promised. The Comforter will clothe his followers with power from on high. The Spirit will fill and refresh us and enable us to do the works of love the Lord leads us to do. You see, Christ still sends us out to be his witnesses—and to share the message of forgiveness with all the nations, beginning with ourselves, our families, our church, and neighborhood. He sends us out with his blessing to be a blessing to the world.

Until we see him again in glory— in his glory and in ours!

Will you pray with me?

Holy One, thank you for your Son’s Resurrection and Ascension and for the first witnesses who shared the promise of our resurrection and glorification with him. Send your Spirit to empower us to be faithful witnesses for Christ today, proclaiming repentance and forgiveness to all the nations, beginning right here in our church, our families, and in Smithtown. Send your Spirit to comfort, heal, empower, and give peace to mothers. They have so many pressures today, Lord. Bless weary young mothers with babies who don’t sleep through the night and older mothers who are lonely empty nesters, longing to see their children who live far away. Bless all mothers with joy on this day that we honor them and give you thanks for their love and patience. Bless all who are mourning their mothers, especially those for whom this is their first Mother’s Day without them. We pray through your Risen and Ascended Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen.

What Can Living Stones Do?

Meditation on John 14:1-14 and 1 Peter 2:2-10

Rev. Dr. Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

Fifth Sunday of Easter

May 3, 2026

Art by Stushie, used with permission

We had our Presbytery meeting in Cutchogue yesterday. Been to Cutchogue? It was my first time. But the white church reminded me of many of the white wooden churches on Long Island. It had no clock tower or pew boxes like ours, and, being founded in the 1730s, was a young congregation compared to our 1675.

But it did have character.

Unfortunately, there were only 2 bathrooms (two toilets). And one was well hidden. A church member led me through the kitchen to find it. It was basically a closet, with sink, toilet, and hot water heater.

Pastor Richie welcomed us, when the meeting began, and said they were “the little church that could.” (You know, like the children’s book, The Little Engine That Could.) When people complained that there were only two bathrooms, he said there was only one when the church was built. (I guess they were feeling mighty lucky when they added the second!) He invited everyone from the presbytery to come back today for worship and keep coming back every Sunday—and then they would be able to add another bathroom.

We all laughed at that.

Coming back from Cutchogue, I remembered how 4 years ago, when I first arrived, I got lost leaving our church. Do you remember me telling you about that? I forgot my phone and didn’t have GPS in my car. I just kept driving around and driving around, and nothing seemed familiar, until I passed Catherine of Sienna Hospital.

And yesterday, I just followed the signs to 495 and ignored Ben on my GPS, when he told me to turn left on some side road. I knew it wasn’t going to be a direct route.

I was anxious to be home.

This beautiful passage in John 14 is often read at funerals to assure mourners that they will be reunited with their loved ones, and see Jesus, face to face. He has gone to prepare a place in the Father’s house of many rooms or dwelling places for all who believe. What do we always think of when we read this? Heaven.

But this week, when I studied this passage in the context of living as Easter people right now, I realized that Christ wasn’t just saying that he was preparing a place for us in the future to be together. Because the Kingdom of Heaven is already here. Heaven has come down to earth. The Good Shepherd is with us now.

When the Lord talks about preparing a place, I think he’s talking about a place for all of us to live and love and labor together for the Kingdom, now and forever.

And, reading this passage alongside the reading in First Peter, I think he could be talking about the people of God as a place. We are that place that Christ is preparing—transforming us all into a new creation.

Peter uses language similar to Paul’s analogy of God’s people being a human body with different members and functions—a hand, arm, ear, and eye, and so forth, united by the Lord, who is the head. Peter says our Lord is the cornerstone—the first rock that was laid. He is the foundation for a new temple, not an edifice like the white churches on Long Island, but God’s people being built into a spiritual house.

We are living stones.

“River Rocks” by Murray Henderson, available at wayfair.com

Ever collected rocks as a child? They come in all different shapes and sizes, don’t they? Each have their own beauty, pressed and shaped by natural forces over the years. Stones never stop growing, changing, moving and being moved, if left on the earth, interacting with organic and inorganic materials.

It never fails to excite me when Jesus talks about the works that his followers will do in the gospel of John after he goes to be with the Father. He says that those who believe in him will do even greater works than he. Why is that? Because he is listening when we pray and he longs to grant us the desires of our hearts—desires that he himself has placed there.

Reading these two passages together, a new question comes to mind.

What can living stones do?

Yesterday, when I arrived home from the Presbytery meeting, I discovered that my husband, who had surgery on Wednesday to remove a basal cell carcinoma from the base of his ear had fresh blood seeping from his bandage, running down the side of his neck. I tried for several hours to clean and dress the wound and apply pressure to stop the bleeding. But the wound is deep and the doctor didn’t close the entire incision because it would change the shape of his ear.

Finally, I decided we had waited long enough and I couldn’t fix what was wrong. I paged the doctor on call, who told us to go to the nearest hospital.

Even before we left, I was already reaching out to our Session and close friends—to ask them to pray. For the promise is not only that the Lord will hear us when we pray, but that we who believe in God and Jesus will perform even greater works than he, when we pray.

At Stony Brook, the EMT at the front desk immediately started to work on Jim’s ear, but the bleeding continued to seep through the gauze almost as quickly as it was changed. After some time, we were taken to the back, where a doctor and a physician’s assistant tried different things over the course of a couple of hours to stop the bleeding, finally wrapping his entire head in a bandage and pulling it tight.

The miracle wasn’t that the bleeding was finally under control. The miracle was that in the time that we were there, we could feel the peace of Christ with us. We were able to smile and laugh. And I know it was because of the prayers of the people that I was able to relax, though it had been a long day, and I should have been anxious that I hadn’t even begun to work on a sermon. It was close to 9 o’clock when we finally pulled in the driveway.

The miracle was that I didn’t worry about today because I knew that I would be with my beloved flock, God’s people who are being built into a spiritual house, with Christ our cornerstone. We aren’t that different than our siblings in Christ at Cutchogue. We certainly have some of the same building challenges. But we, too, are the little church that could!

Dear friends, I am wondering what great works of love and healing will we do this year, with God’s help, when we pray and labor for the Kingdom, in Christ’s name?

For Heaven has come down to earth. And the Kingdom of God is already here.

Christ has prepared a place for us to dwell in him and he in us, now and forever.

I can’t wait to see what living stones can do!

Let us pray.

Holy One, thank you for sending your Son to be the cornerstone who is building a spiritual house with his followers, we who are your beloved living stones. Lord, thank you for your work of transformation in our hearts and lives and that in you, we are a new Creation. Lord, thank you for answered prayers and for sending your peace just when we need it. Thank you for preparing an everlasting place for us and for dwelling in and with us always. Lord, stir us to pray more faithfully for the things that your desire. Help us cling to the promise that you will use us to do even greater works of love and healing as we labor for your Kingdom, serving in your name. With help and guidance from our living and loving Lord, we can’t wait to see what living stones can do. In the name of our Risen Savior we pray. Amen.

My Sheep Hear My Voice

Meditation on John 10:1-10

Reverend Dr. Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

April 26, 2026 (Creation Care Sunday)

Art by Stushie, used with permission

Jim and I have returned from our visit to Jim’s family in Northern Island. We did have a good time, although it rained and was quite chilly for all but 3 days. But it’s as the Irish say, “You don’t come to Ireland for the weather.”

Jim’s mother, Margaret Heaney, was born in County Down in 1899. She crossed the Atlantic to New York City, entering America through Ellis Island as a young woman of 30 on November 4, 1929. In an age and place where family was everything, she left her parents and all but one of her siblings behind. She came because she suffered from arthritis, and the cold, damp climate worsened her condition. And she came with an adventurous spirit, hoping to make friends, make her home here, find work, fall in love, get married, have children and watch them grow up and follow their dreams. And that’s exactly what happened. She met Daniel Crawford, from Glen Arm, County Antrim, Northern Island, on a blind date. They crossed the George Washington Bridge on opening day on October 25, 1931. They married two years later.

Last November was the first time I met Jim’s Irish family. We spent most of our time with one couple and only saw the other cousins and their families at a dinner. As we said goodbye, the other cousins urged us to come again, wiping away tears of joy and sadness.

It was my idea that we go, again, this year and take the time to visit the cousins and get to know them more. I joyfully anticipated being back in County Down, captivated, once again, by the beauty of the hills, the Mountains of Mourne, cottages beside windy roads no bigger than cow paths; and white and black sheep grazing in rolling green pastures, rising above the blue green Irish Sea.

Finally, after we had been in Ireland almost a week, we were able to see and talk with all but the eldest cousin at a Sunday afternoon open house. Cousin Edward and I got to talking and next thing I knew, we were planning a visit to his farm the next day to see the new lambs with their mothers. Now Edward is a shy man in his 70s, never married and has lived alone in an old farmhouse for decades. It was a surprise to the rest of the family that we were invited.

Edward, wearing tall boots, met us at our car and led us to an enclosure with stone walls where the youngest lambs were kept with their mothers.

I was moved when Edward called his sheep. He spoke in grunts that resembled the sounds that the sheep made. Sure enough, the sheep looked up and came closer when he called but then stopped when they saw us. For Jim and I were strangers.

Edward calling and feeding his sheep

Edward said he knew how to get them to come. He disappeared for a moment and came back with a bucket of feed he called “nuts” and dumped them in a trough in front of us. The sheep came running and noisily ate, while their lambs looked on curiously. They were a few days to a few weeks old, some with black faces and legs, others with black spots, and some that were pure white.

View from Edwards’ kitchen

After he fed the sheep, Edward called us into his kitchen so that he could feed us. He had set the table with a couple of old mugs and one small plate for tea bags. He poured our tea and opened packages of blueberry muffins, pancakes, and biscuits. Then he sliced an apple tart, put a generous slab of it into my hand and urged me to eat. It was delicious!

Our experiences with sheep and farmers in Ireland helped me imagine God’s people long ago in pastoral Judaea. For miles around, all we could see were sloping, green pastures where sheep and cattle peacefully grazed inside walled enclosures. Edward said that sheep, unlike cattle, are prone to wander, even if there is plenty of good grass in their pasture; they need to be contained. Also, they don’t always want to follow where the shepherds want them to go, and this was true in Judaea, too. While sheep in Northern Island are raised for wool and meat, sheep in biblical times were raised mostly for wool. That meant that the shepherd and the sheep were together for many years and got to know each other well. Shepherds in Ireland mark their sheep with neon paint so their flock can be easily recognized. I don’t know if they actually name their sheep as they did in Judaea and as they do to this day in the Middle East.

The life of a shepherd in Northern Island, though difficult, isn’t as hard as the shepherd’s life in biblical times and places. William Barclay writes, “No flock ever grazed without a shepherd, and he was never off duty. There being little grass, the sheep were bound to wander; and since there were no protecting walls, the sheep had constantly to be watched. On either side of the narrow plateau, the ground dipped sharply down to the craggy deserts, and the sheep were always liable to stray away and get lost. The shepherd’s task was not only constant but also dangerous, for, in addition, he had to guard the flock against wild animals, especially against wolves, and there were always thieves and robbers ready to steal the sheep.”[1]

You may have noticed that the Bible is full of references to sheep and shepherds, providing a window into the world in which they lived and emphasizing the importance of the role of the shepherd to their society. Numerous Psalms feature God as the shepherd. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1). “You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron” (Psalm 77:20). “We your people, the flock of your pasture, will give thanks to you forever” (Psalm 79:13). “For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand” (Psalm 95:7 and 100:3).[2] In Isaiah 40:11, the Messiah, is pictured as a shepherd. “He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.”

Jesus is the good shepherd who will lay down his life for the sheep in John 10. He will risk his life to seek and save the one sheep that is straying (Matthew 18:12; Luke 15:4). His disciples are his little flock (Luke 12:32). He has pity upon the people because they are as sheep without a shepherd (Matthew 9:36; Mark 6:34). He is the shepherd of human souls (1 Peter 2:25) and the great shepherd of the sheep (Hebrews 13:20).

Two things stand out to me in our passage in John today. One is that Jesus calls himself the gate. I was intrigued to learn that shepherds really were and are the “gate” for the sheep. In “many Eastern sheepfolds, the shepherd lies down at night in the gateway of the enclosure, to stop the sheep getting out and to stop predators getting in.”[3] Jesus is promising safety, like the Psalmist says in 121:8, “The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.”

The other is the promise that Christ’s followers will hear his voice. This stays with me. So often, we are straining hard to listen for his voice. Do you ever feel that way? We doubt that we can hear him, but here in John’s gospel Christ is promising that we do and will hear him. He allows us to recognize his voice amidst the many voices and sounds that surround us in our busy lives. He calls to each of us in such a way that we can hear him, much like Edward and his sheep.

During my visit to Ireland, I found myself marveling at the courage of Margaret Heaney. It must have been difficult for her to leave her country and family behind at the age of 30 to find a new life in America. I wonder if she ever questioned during the early days—before she met and fell in love with Daniel—if she had heard the voice of the Lord in her decision?

On the second day of our trip, I wondered if I had misheard Christ’s voice. One of our hosts took me aside and said that it wasn’t a good time for the visit, after all. And I didn’t know what to do or say. We were already there. We had already planned on staying at hotels for some of the trip, but much of our time was spent with them.

Last night, I watched a video that I had taken of Edward and the sheep on a big screen, and I was back in County Down, captivated, once again, by the beauty of the hills, the Mountains of Mourne, cottages beside windy roads no bigger than cow paths; and white and black sheep grazing in rolling green pastures, rising above the blue green Irish Sea. I listened to Edward call them in their own language, watched him feed them nuts—and remembered how he hand-fed me tart and biscuits. I remembered how, when we left Edward’s house, I gave the big shy man a hug and he held me close, something that other family members said they had never seen him do before.

By the end of our stay, something in the air had changed. The Spirit was at work. The cousin with whom we stayed was reconnected with the others after decades of not staying in touch. In addition to the visit with Edward, we were invited for tea with Cousin Elizabeth, who then invited us to come and stay a night with her family on our next visit.The one who said it wasn’t a good time for us to visit invited us to visit again next year.

Right now, all I can think is that I am glad to be home. I am happy to know where the Lord wants me to be. Isn’t that a good feeling? To be safely gathered in Christ’s fold?

Lambs calling for and finding their mother

Dear friends, the one lesson that I am continually learning is that God’s plans are so much bigger than we can know. How else could the Lord use a trip to Ireland to bring about a family’s healing and reconciliation?

Brothers and sisters, hold onto the promise that we are Christ’s sheep. He laid down his life for us. He looks for us when we go astray. He came so that we may have life and have it abundantly. And now may the one who guides, feeds, loves, and protects us, calls us by name and allows us to hear his voice, keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.

Let us pray.

Good Shepherd, thank you for coming to us so that we may have life and have it abundantly. Thank you for having a plan for us, for calling us by name and allowing us to hear your voice. Thank you for welcoming us into your everlasting fold and for guiding, protecting, feeding, and loving us. We ask that you continue to bring reconciliation and healing to our families near and far. Open our hearts to your Spirit’s transforming work. Lead us to righteous paths and keep us safely in your care, never giving in to temptation to go astray. In the name of our Triune God we pray. Amen.

[1] William Barclay, The Gospel of John, 62.

[2] William Barclay, 63.

[3] N. T. Wright, John for Everyone, Part One, 150.

Wounded Healer

Meditation on John 20:19-31

Reverend Dr. Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

April 12, 2026 (Second Sunday of Easter)

Have you been following Artemis II? NASA’s first crewed lunar mission in more than 50 years returned safely to Earth on Friday after completing its historic trip around the moon.

The four-member crew successfully splashed down in the Pacific Ocean at 8:07 p.m. Eastern Time. The four astronauts flew within roughly 4,000 miles of the lunar surface and became the first humans to travel to the moon and return to Earth since the Apollo 17 mission of December 1972. They also set a record during Monday’s seven-hour lunar flyby for the farthest distance from Earth traveled by humans — 252,756 miles, surpassing Apollo 13’s mark of 248,655 miles in 1970. The 10-day mission, launched on April 1, was the first in the new deep space capsule Orion. Although Orion offers about 60 percent more space than the Apollo command module, it’s still only roughly the size of two minivans. The mission didn’t include a lunar landing, but it tested space hardware and life support systems that will be crucial to NASA’s plans for the next lunar landing in 2028 and its future quest to build a moon base by the end of the decade.

When I heard about Artemis II, I wanted to know more about the astronauts. You see, I remember when astronauts visited our elementary school in the 1970s and how we were in awe of them. I am still in awe of those who have what it takes to handle the many stressors of space travel.

All the astronauts have numerous advanced degrees. Victor Glover, a Naval aviator and test pilot from California, served as the pilot of Artemis II after serving as the pilot of NASA’s SpaceX Crew-1 mission to the International Space Station. He is now the first person of color to journey around the moon. Christina Koch set a record for the longest single space flight by a woman with a total of 328 days in space and participated in the first all-female space walks. She was featured on Time’s list of the 100 most influential people of 2020 and is now the first woman to journey around the moon and travel beyond low earth orbit. Canadian Space Agency’s Jeremy Hansen from Ontario, a fighter pilot and test pilot, is now the first Canadian to ever venture to the moon. He worked at Mission Control Center as a capcom- the voice between the ground and the International Space Station and was a crewmember of NEEMO 19, where he lived and worked on the ocean floor in the Aquarius habitat off Key Largo, Florida, for seven days simulating deep-space exploration.

But the story of the commander, Reid Wiseman, is the one that captured my heart. For Reid was willing to reveal his emotional wounds for a global audience and share his story of finding strength in his time of greatest weakness and challenge.

 At 50, he is the oldest man to travel beyond low earth orbit and to the moon, beating Alan Shepherd by 3 years. He is a 27-year Navy veteran, a pilot, father, engineer, and Baltimore native. He was selected as an astronaut by NASA in 2009 and served as Flight Engineer aboard the International Space Station for a 165-day mission. His list of degrees and professional accolades is long, like the others, but he says the biggest challenge by far in his life was losing his wife to cancer in 2020, and then he had the challenge of caring for their two daughters on his own while they were all grieving. “It is not easy being an only parent, trying to work a full-time job, and raising two kids. It is something that I think about every single day.”

Carroll had dedicated her life to helping others as a pediatric nurse practitioner working in a newborn intensive care unit. Reid stepped back from active flight duty while she was sick. He was ready to give up his dream of becoming an astronaut when she was diagnosed with cancer. But she refused to let him. She was just 46 when she died. And now, Reid says, though he has just made history through the Artemis II mission, “My girls are my whole life.”

How did Thomas the Twin end up being called Doubting Thomas? Most of the stories about this passage in John have focused on Thomas’ lack of faith, when, in fact, I don’t think that is the point. And he may have been the most faithful of them all, declaring the divine nature of Jesus when Christ appears to him and invites him to touch and see his wounds. Thomas falls down to worship him, saying, “My Lord and my God!”  

One of the difficulties with this passage is that some people don’t accept that doubt can exist alongside faith. Doubt is not the opposite of faith. Fear is the opposite of faith. Fear is what gets in the way of our living faithfully.  Consider the desperate father of the demon-possessed boy in Mark 9 who begs Jesus, after his disciples have failed to heal him, “If you are able to do anything, help us! Have compassion on us.” Jesus says to him, “If you are able! All things can be done for the one who believes.”Immediately the father of the child cries out, “I believe; help my unbelief!”  (Mark 9:23-24)

Thomas’ problem is simply that he isn’t there when Jesus appears to the other disciples and invites them to see the wounds on his hands and side. He isn’t there when the group is being commissioned and empowered not with a great rush of mighty wind but when Jesus breathes on this small group of followers and tells them to go and tell the world that they are forgiven.

The story of Thomas’ doubt until seeing and touching the risen Christ is the last sign that John will share before he closes his book with his purpose; he has written all these signs for the generations who follow the first disciples, the ones who never met him in the flesh or seen and touched him when he has risen—people like you and me. John says, “these are written so that you may continueto believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.”

Let’s move from Thomas’ doubt and look at the emphasis on Christ’s wounds in this passage. Two times, the risen Christ invites his followers to see and/or touch them, and when they do, they rejoice at what God has done. But there is another reason for scars—and not just to prove he is risen from the dead. For God could have chosen to heal Christ’s human body without leaving any scars. The flesh remained scarred for our sake—so that we would see and remember what the prophet said about the power of his wounds to heal us. Isaiah 53:5 says, “But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises (or stripes) we are healed.”

Our Lord, Jesus Christ, has become a wounded healer for humanity. As his followers, we are invited to enter into his sufferings, be healed by him, and then, by the power of the Spirit, become wounded healers, too. In other words, our wounds can become the source of healing for others.  

There’s a wounded healer in an old legend in the Talmud. “In the legend, a Rabbi asks the prophet Elijah when the Messiah will come and how he can recognize him. Elijah says that he will be found at the city gates and describes him this way: “He is sitting among the poor covered with wounds. The others unbind all their wounds at the same time and bind them up again. But he unbinds one at a time and binds it up again, saying to himself, “Perhaps I shall be needed: if so I must always be ready so as not to delay for a moment.”’

Dutch priest, theologian, and scholar Henri Nouwen writes in his book, The Wounded Healer: Ministry in Contemporary Society, “Messiah, the story tells us, is sitting among the poor, binding his wounds one at a time, waiting for the moment when he will be needed. So it is too with the minister. Since it is his task to make visible the first vestiges of liberation for others, he must bind his own wounds carefully in anticipation of the moment when he will be needed. He is called to be the wounded healer, the one who must look after his own wounds but at the same time be prepared to heal the wounds of others. We are both wounded ministers and healing ministers.”

“Jesus has given this story a new fullness by making his own broken body the way to health, liberation, and new life. Thus, like Jesus, those who proclaim liberation are called not only to care for their own wounds and the wounds of others but also to make their wounds into a major source of healing power.” (Nouwen, 158).

Although many other words may be used to describe the wounded condition of human beings, Nouwen uses these words: alienation, separation, isolation, and loneliness. (Nouwen, 158). And he says that although many words have been used for the healing tasks of the Christian, words such as care and compassion, understanding and forgiveness, fellowship and community, the word he likes best is “hospitality,” which is “the ability to pay attention to the guest” and not be preoccupied with one’s own needs, worries, and tensions. …When our souls are restless … how can we possibly create the space where someone else can enter freely without feeling like an unlawful intruder?” (Nouwen, 162-163).

I like the word hospitality for the ministry of care and compassion that brings about the healing of wounded humanity, but the word I would use would be storytelling. And if the storytelling comes about when we are showing hospitality, then it is a powerful thing, indeed. Key is the intimate, welcoming environment and time to have these kinds of conversations.  And the sharers and the hearers must be able to trust one another enough to be willing to share from the heart.

Thinking about the four people on the Artemis II mission, living for 10 days with the stress of space travel, watched by a global audience in a capsule about the size of 2 minivans, we can imagine that they had time to share not just their professional experiences, but their personal stories. That must have been how Jeremy Hansen, the Canadian astronaut, was stirred to call down to Mission Control in Houston on April 6 to request that a newly discovered lunar crater be named for Reid’s late wife, Carroll. “The crater straddles the boundary between the moon’s near and far sides and can at times be seen from Earth. It’s a bright spot on the moon,” Jeremy said, his voice breaking up, “and we would like to call it Carroll.” The astronauts wiped their eyes and shared a hug. The flight controllers on Earth, with Mr. Wiseman’s family nearby, observed a moment of silence.” (Katrina Miller, New York Times, April 6, 2026).

Let us pray. Holy One, thank you for Thomas coming to the faith in such a dramatic way and for your Risen Son, who commissions us now to go and tell others that they are forgiven. Thank you that Christ revealed himself by inviting his disciples to look at and even touch his scars and for the power of those wounds to heal humanity. Help us, dear Lord, to have more faith than doubt, and be wounded healers, so that many more generations may continueto believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing we have life in his name. In the name of the Risen One, Amen.

Looking for Jesus

Meditation on Matthew 28:1-10

Reverend Dr. Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

April 5, 2026

He is Risen! Alleluia!

Every Easter, I remember my grandmother singing in church,

Jesus Christ is Risen Today. Alleluia!

Our triumphant holy day. Alleluia!

Who did once upon the cross, Alleluia!

Suffer to redeem our loss, Alleluia!

Grandma Springer sang in the choir at her Lutheran church for about 50 years.

I remember having a conversation with her when I was in my 20s. We were on our way home from an evangelical church that I attended at the time. I had been active with a group in college called “Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship.” I was digging more deeply into the Bible and asking questions about my faith.  Grandma was happy that I was going to church. She had prayed for me! She would go to any church with me, she said. If she didn’t go to church on Sunday, her whole week wouldn’t feel right. But when I talked with her about my questions, she would say that she never had them. She didn’t have the same burning need to know more about her faith. It was enough for her to simply trust in Jesus, her Lord.

I have been trying to read the newest book by Elaine Pagels off and on over the last 6 months. It’s called, Miracles and Wonder: The Historical Mystery of Jesus. I can only read about a chapter at a time before I have to put it away. Jim says this is quite a change from the old me who would never have read any of her books, or those of other scholars like her, such as John Dominic Crossan and Marcus Borg. They are looking for the Historical Jesus—not Jesus, the Messiah, that Grandma and I know. They are looking for irrefutable proof in the existence of the man outside the witness of the gospels and other early Christian writings. Of course, they don’t believe in the Resurrection. And they are wondering why so many people still do—and why the Jesus Movement continues.

 Elaine is professor emeritus of religion at Princeton University. You might know her from bestselling book in 1979 called, The Gnostic Gospels. Her research focused on early Christianity and Gnosticism, which rose up about the same time as the Early Church, but was immediately declared a heresy. At the foundation of Gnosticism is the belief that the god who created our material world was a flawed, lesser god or demiurge. Salvation is possible through special knowledge directly revealed by a hidden, supreme being. Gnostics believe in Jesus, but not the Trinity. They believe that he was a divine being and never really human; he only appeared to be to lead humanity back to recognizing its own divine nature.

Elaine had already given up on several versions of Christianity, she says in her introduction, starting with the Methodist church she knew as a child. She gave up on the evangelical Christianity that she knew after answering Christ’s call at a Billy Graham crusade. This angered her father, who had struggled with “ferocious Presbyterianism” as a child. (Pagels, 3) Eighteen months after the Crusade, one of her closest friends, who was Jewish, died in a car crash. She looked for comfort at her church, and they told her that if he wasn’t born again, he wasn’t going to heaven. She gave up on Christianity, after that. But she was still drawn to religion. She later applied to a doctoral program in religion at Harvard, where she knew she would be challenged to think in ways she’d never imagined. (Pagels, 5)

She says later that in the last century, “many” Christians have come to think of the New Testament stories of Christ’s resurrection as “myth masquerading as fact…Were these reports based on hallucinations, or on projection, born of grief? Did Jesus’s disciples remove his body from his grave to fake a resurrection? Did someone else steal it, or, as a few historians suggest, was …. he never buried at all? Or were some reports claiming to document his resurrection telling of actual encounters with the risen Jesus, alive again after his death?” (Pagels, 163)

These were the same questions asked at the time of Christ’s death. Let’s go back to the crucifixion in chapter 27. Matthew says that when Jesus breathed his last, the curtain of the temple was torn in two. “Tombs were opened and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised.”  All who were keeping watch over Jesus, “saw the earthquake and what took place,” and they were terrified and said, “Truly this man was God’s Son.” “Many women were also there,” (verse 55) looking on from a distance; they had followed Jesus from Galilee and had “ministered to him.” The Greek word for ministered is the same root of the word that we use for “Deacon.” Who were the first deacons of the Church? The women who followed Jesus. Matthew names some of them. The most important is first: Mary Magdalene, who was probably a wealthy woman near the same age as Jesus’ mother. Mary the mother of James and Joseph is also named, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee,” who is Salome.

Evening came, and Joseph of Arimathea shows up and asks for Christ’s body. He would have been a wealthy man to have owned his own new tomb. For some strange reason, maybe it was the bad dreams his wife was having about Jesus, Pilate allows Joseph to bury Jesus. Earlier, Pilate had taken a bowl of water and washed his hands of the whole matter when the crowd was crying out for the death of Jesus the Messiah and the release of Jesus Barabbas, who had led an insurrection. A “great stone” was rolled “to the door of the tomb” and Joseph, a secret disciple, went away. Then, we learn in verse 61: “Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there.” They were there the whole time, watching everything, but no longer from afar! There were “sitting opposite the tomb.” But the sun was going down; it was the Sabbath, and they had to go home.

They aren’t there when the Pharisees say to Pilate, “Sir, we remember what that imposter said while he was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise again.’ Therefore, command the tomb to be made secure until the third day; otherwise, his disciples may go and steal him away and tell the people, ‘He has been raised from the dead,’ and the last deception would be worse than the first.” Pilate answered, “You have a guard of soldiers; go make it as secure as you can.” The guard makes the tomb secure by sealing the stone. This posting of the guard is only in Matthew and was shared because at the time of this gospel writing, around 85 CE, the rumor that his disciples had taken the body was still being circulated.

Early the next morning, the women come to “see” the tomb. In Matthew, they are not coming to anoint the body. They are looking for the risen Christ! He told them that he would be raised—and they had already experienced the earthquake, the tearing of the Temple curtain, the opening of tombs, and seeing saints rise from the dead. Why wouldn’t they come back to the tomb to look for Jesus? They arrive and experience another earthquake and an angel rolling away the stone. He knows that they are looking for Jesus; he tells them not to be afraid, invites them into the empty tomb to see for themselves, and assures them that they would see him in Galilee.

They leave with “fear and great joy” and run to tell the male disciples. The amazing thing is that in the patriarchy society in which they live, women are never counted. They cannot testify in court as witnesses because the testimony of women is considered unreliable. But when the risen Savior meets them on the road, they are the first witnesses, the ones on whom Jesus relies to share the good news and be believed. The word that comes out of his mouth isn’t really “greetings!” as the English translates. It is better translated, “Rejoice!” They worship him and take hold of his feet. This is kind of a funny detail, except when you realize that the important thing is that this is Jesus raised in the flesh—not a ghost or divine being that only appears to be human. Jesus commissions them, repeating what the angel has said. “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers and sisters to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

Meanwhile, the guards go into the city and tell the chief priests what happened. The priests meet with the elders, and they devise a plan to bribe the soldiers with a large sum of money. They pay them to lie and say, “His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.” Matthew says in 28:15, “And this story is still told among the Judeans today.”

I leave this Resurrection passage with joy in my heart. I can answer Elaine’s question with all honesty and conviction: “Yes.  Some reports claiming to document his resurrection speak of actual encounters with the risen Jesus, alive again after his death.” Friends, Jesus is still alive and present with us! And I am grateful for a God who chooses to use women—the powerless people of Christ’s day. People who didn’t even count legally as people when it came to witnesses.

It is my hope that Christ will make his loving presence known to you, especially in times of grief and loss. God knows that we are looking for the risen Savior in hope, just as the two Mary’s were long ago. Jesus knows we are looking for him, and the wonderful thing is that our Lord is looking for us, too. He will never stop looking and loving, no matter the questions we ask, no matter our doubts, which are part of our journeys of faith. Jesus tells us that he has come to seek and save the lost. May he greet us on the roads of our lives, saying, as he did to the Marys, “Rejoice!”

So, today on Easter, when you gather with family and friends, I pray that you will give thanks for your Risen Lord for seeking and saving you, and for the people whose faith has touched your life. I pray you will give thanks especially for the women, whose testimony would not have been considered legal or reliable in the time of the Marys. And whenever you encounter obstacles or great stones in your life, as we all do, may you trust God and the angels to guide you through them. Remember: Nothing is impossible with God!

You know, times change. I don’t know if Elaine is correct when she says that “many” people question the validity of the Resurrection today. But I know that Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today and forever! All that mattered for my Grandma was a simple faith in her Lord, praising God in church, and prayer when something troubled her. I think the one thing that strengthened her joy was when she sang. I would hear her humming and singing hymns not just in church but as she did chores around her home. She never sang pop songs. I overheard her telling her friend, Gladys, that she was saving her voice for the Lord. I can still hear her sweet soprano voice:

Hymns of praise then let us sing. Alleluia!

Unto Christ, our heavenly King! Alleluia!

Who endured the cross and grave. Alleluia!

Sinners to redeem and save. Alleluia!

Let us pray.

Holy One, we praise and thank you for raising your Son after three days and the promise of life everlasting with him. Thank you that he continues to seek and save the lost, revealing your love, mercy, and grace for sinners. Thank you for the courage of the women who stayed as Christ was crucified and buried and returned to the tomb in faith the next day. Thank you for all who have continued to believe in the Resurrection and share their faith. Send us out, dear Lord, to tell of the Living Christ, with the power to transform us and enable us to live new, abundant, resurrected lives today. Amen.

The Big Reveal

Meditation on Genesis 45:1-15

Reverend Dr. Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Palm Sunday: March 29, 2026

I listened to part of a podcast yesterday featuring Orlando pastors Jim Davis and Michael Graham. They are authors of The Great Dechurching, Who’s Leaving, Why Are They Going, and What Will It Take to Bring Them Back?  They quote the findings of a Barna Group study that about 15 percent of American adults living today (around 40 million people) have effectively stopped going to church. More people have left the church in the last 25 years than all the new people who became Christians from the First Great Awakening, Second Great Awakening, and Billy Graham crusades combined.

Those who are “dechurched” are adult Americans who used to go to church on a monthly basis and now go less than once per year. C and E’s—those who come to church only on Christmas and Easter—are still “churched” and not counted among the “dechurched.” Another 60 million people, the study found, are among those who attend only on Christmas and Easter.  Of the 40 million “dechurched,” the question is why did they leave? Davis and Graham say, “30 million of them said, very casually, “they moved.” The move was often associated with a family change, such as getting a divorce and becoming a single parent. They moved and didn’t seek out another church. The final 10 million are the ones who “painfully dechurched.” They left intentionally. “There was suffering. There was church hurt. There was clergy scandal.”

What led me to listen to the podcast was my Presbyterian 101 class on Thursday night at the manse. Everyone in my dining room was raised in the faith. Several shared stories of the churches that hurt them and let them down.  One said that after the church refused to marry him, he decided that he would never go back. It wasn’t until many years later, after he started seeing a member of our congregation who loved her church, that he decided to give church another chance.

These Presbyterian 101 classes have led me to believe that a focus of our ministry here needs to be helping people heal from emotional and spiritual wounds and forgive and make peace with their past. I believe we are called to be a gentle, nonjudgmental listening ear. Be the loving presence of Christ. Hold one another up in prayer.

Joseph’s family back in Canaan are suffering after two years of severe famine across the land. His father, Israel, tells his brothers, in chapter 43, that they must return to Egypt and procure food for them. Judah persuades his father, Israel, to allow Benjamin—Israels’ youngest and the only living son of his beloved deceased wife, Rachel—to come with them.

Judah says, “Send the boy in my care, and let us be on our way, that we may live and not die—you and we and our children.”

They take with them zimrat ha-‘arets, choice produce of the land that are celebrated in Hebrew scripture and song as a gift, and a sign of submission to the man who still held their brother Simeon in a dungeon and let them live only if they promised to return with Benjamin. (They still don’t know that this “man,” who is second in command to Pharaoh, is their long-lost brother Joseph.) They take with them balm, honey, gum, ladanum, pistachios and almonds, and double the money they took with them before, including the money that was returned to their bags as they left, without their knowledge.

Israel blesses them as they go. “And may El Shaddai dispose the man to mercy towards you, that he may release to you your other brother, as well as Benjamin. As for me, if I am to be bereaved, I shall be bereaved.”

They return to Egypt and present themselves to Joseph.

What do you think happens next? Is Joseph ready to forgive and put the trauma of his past behind him?

When Joseph sees Benjamin, he reminds me of the father’s reaction to the prodigal son in the gospel of Luke. Joseph orders his steward to take the brothers into his home, and slaughter and prepare an animal, “for the men will dine with (him) at noon.”

The brothers are terrified at being brought into Joseph’s house. They think that they are going to be attacked and seized as slaves because of the money that was replaced in their bags on their first visit to Joseph for rations, when he accused them of being spies. They try to explain to the Egyptian steward what happened with the money, and the witness of Joseph’s faith is apparent when the steward replies, “All is well with you; do not be afraid. Your God, the God of your father, must have put treasure in your bags for you. I got your payment.” And he brings Simeon out to them, gives them water to bathe their feet and food for their donkeys.

The men spread out their gifts for Joseph and bow low to the ground when he arrives. Joseph’s prophetic dream at 17 has been fulfilled. Joseph asks if their aged father is still in good health. He is, they say.  And then Joseph sees his brother Benjamin, “his mother’s son,” and Joseph blesses him. “May God be gracious to you, my boy.”

Afterward, he runs out because he is overcome with emotion and is on the verge of tears. He goes into another room, weeps, then washes his face and reappears—now in control of himself. At the meal, Benjamin is given the largest portion of them all—double what his brothers receive. Then Joseph orders the servants to fill their bags with grain and put each one’s money back inside. And there’s one more thing. He tells them to put a silver goblet into Benjamin’s bag, along with his money.

What’s going to happen?

At first light the next morning, in chapter 44, when the brothers are sent off with their pack animals, Joseph sends his steward after them to bring them back. He tells the steward to say, “Why did you repay good with evil?” And accuse them of stealing the goblet. The bags are searched; the goblet is discovered in Benjamin’s sack. The brothers tear their clothes in grief, load up their animals, and go back to the city. Joseph insists that the one with the goblet—Benjamin—must stay and be his slave.

Judah pleads their case at length, explaining that he is the only one left of his mother, the child of his father’s old age, the youngest. His “full brother (meaning Joseph) is dead,” he says. If they return home without Benjamin, their father will die. Judah begs Joseph to keep him as a slave, in Benjamin’s place. “For how can I got back to my father unless the boy is with me? Let me not be witness to the woe that would overtake my father.”

Joseph is no longer able to control himself. He commands his attendants to leave him as chapter 45 begins. Only the brothers remain. His sobs are so loud that the Egyptians can hear, and the news reaches the Pharoah’s palace. The second in command, the one who wears the finest robes, gold chains, the Pharoah’s signet ring on his hand and rides in a horse-drawn chariot, says, “I am Joseph. Is my father still well?”

His brothers are dismayed and confused. They still don’t recognize him. He invites them to draw nearer and explains how the Lord has used what they did to him to accomplish God’s purposes. Joseph has had years to process all that has happened since his journey to Egypt at 17, since the beginning of his journey to become the man God had planned for Joseph to be. He has made peace with his past and is ready to make peace with his family. He urges them to come and live near him in the land of Goshen outside Egypt—them and their father and children and grandchildren, flocks and herds—so that Joseph may care for and provide for them for the remaining 5 years of famine, when there will be no plowing or harvest.

Joseph not only forgives them, but he urges them to forgive themselves. “And now do not be distressed or angry with yourselves because you sold me here, for God sent me before you to preserve life. God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth and to keep alive for you many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here but God; he has made me a father to Pharaoh and lord of all his house and ruler over all the land of Egypt.” 

Then he cries as he kisses and embraces Benjamin and all his brothers around their necks. Pharoah sends his brothers home in wagons to fetch their father and return with all their belongings. Only then is the spirit of Jacob revived. “Enough!” says Israel. “My son Joseph is still alive! I must go and see him before I die.”

On the way to Egypt, Israel stops at Beer-sheba, in chapter 46, and offers sacrifices to the God of his father, Isaac. God calls to Israel in a vision by night, saying, “Fear not to go down to Egypt, for I will make you there into a great nation. I Myself will go down with you to Egypt, and I Myself will also bring you back; and Joseph’s hand shall close your eyes.”

Joseph orders his chariot when his huge family arrives in Goshen, led by his brother, Judah. He meets his father, weeps on his neck, and Israel says, “Now I can die, having seen for myself that you are still alive.” Jacob will live 17 years in the land of Egypt. He will bless all his children and grandchildren before he lies down with his ancestors at the age of 147. We cannot help but think of his father Isaac, when Jacob’s eyes are “dim with age” and he cannot see. He blesses Joseph and bestows the younger son, Ephraim, with a greater blessing than the older one, Manasseh, just like Isaac’s younger son, Jacob, received a greater blessing than the older son Esau.

Israel breathes his last in chapter 49. But the story isn’t over, yet. The brothers need reassurance, in chapter 50, that Joseph will truly forgive and forget, now that their father has died. They send him a message, telling him that their father forgave them for the wrong they had done. His dying wish was that Joseph would forgive them, too. For forgiveness, much like healing from trauma, can take many years—for Joseph, his brothers, his father, and us, too. The ability to forgive is a gift from our God of mercy, but forgiveness is a journey that can take a lifetime. We are called to help one another along this journey. To be a gentle, nonjudgmental listening ear. To be the peaceful, loving presence of Christ for one another. And hold each other up in prayer.

Joseph is in tears when he tells his brothers, who threw him in a pit and sold him into slavery at 17, “Have no fear! Am I in the place of God? Besides, although you intended me harm, God intended it for good, to save the lives of many people. So then, don’t be afraid. I will provide for you and your children.” Joseph stays in Egypt for the rest of his life, along with all his father’s family. He lives to see children of the third generation of Ephraim. He blesses them all, like his father before him, before he dies at the age of 110.

Let us pray.  God of Joseph, thank you for your love and great plan for our lives and our church. Thank you for always being with us, like you were Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Joseph. Thank you for providing for us and giving us spiritual gifts to use for your glory, including the gift of forgiveness. We pray that you will help us all to heal from the traumas of the past and forgive ourselves for the parts that we played in them. We lift up the millions of dechurched people in this country and we ask that your Spirit would lead them back home to you and new church families. May they be healed by your love, mercy, and grace. May they and we be renewed in the faith and discover your purpose for our lives. In the name of our humble Savior we pray. Amen.

Joseph’s Brothers, Again

Meditation on Genesis 42:1-17

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

The Reverend Dr. Karen Crawford

Fifth Sunday in Lent

March 22, 2026

My youngest son, James, had a birthday yesterday. He turned 33! He is married to Andrea, and they live in North Mankato, Minnesota.

I think of my children every day. And I miss them because we are so far apart and have such busy lives. I never thought, when Joshua, Jacob, and James were little, that they would end up living in different states when they were grown.

I called James yesterday afternoon, and we talked for a while, and after we hung up, I missed him even more. But I am looking forward to his and Andrea’s visit after Easter when they come to housesit and care for our pets, while Jim and I are away.

Our children have very different personalities. Is that true for your kids? James has always been the peacemaker. He didn’t like it when there was any conflict in the family. Although he is the youngest, he has always been the responsible one, the one who worries about his older brothers. And he was the one who was the least shy of them all. Even as toddler, he wasn’t afraid to introduce himself to strangers. He made friends easily and wanted to please his teachers and parents.

But he was also the most sensitive and tenderhearted. And of my three boys, he was the most faithful. When I was a park chaplain, he was the one who walked with me from campsite to campsite, helping me invite people to children’s activities and worship on Sunday morning in the outdoor amphitheater. He was the one who insisted, when I was afraid to approach a large group of Harley riders in leather and spiked helmets, that they needed Jesus, too.

Joseph, the second to the youngest of 12, is the most faithful. He is the one with the spiritual gift of dreams with divine messages and the ability to interpret dreams that foretell the future. Though he lost his coat of many colors long ago, Joseph now wears robes of fine linen, gold chains, and Pharaoh’s signet ring.

The first time we see the word translated “chariot” in the Bible is when Joseph is riding in one. Chariots were first introduced in Egypt in the 8th century BCE as an instrument of warfare. (Sarna, JPS Torah Commentary: Genesis, 287). This chariot is a status symbol.

And there are other benefits with Joseph’s position as second in command. Pharoah says, “I am Pharaoh, yet without you, no one shall lift up hand or foot in all the land of Egypt.” (Meaning, “no action shall be taken” without your knowledge and assent.) And Pharaoh gives Joseph a new Egyptian name. Just as his father, Jacob, became Israel after he wrestled with an angel, Joseph will have a fresh start as Zaphenathpaneah. Pharaoh also gives him a wife—Asenath, daughter of Pot-phera, priest of the temple to the universal sun god Atum-Ra (later called ‘Helios’ by the Greeks).

Joseph is 30 years old when he is appointed Vizier (Prime Minister or Governor) of Egypt. The Pharaoh at the time may have been Amenemhat III (c.1678-1635BC). Joseph’s job leads him to travel throughout the land for the next 7 years of plenty. He makes sure the grain is gathered from the fields and stored in the cities. He collects a large quantity of produce, “like the sands of the sea, until he ceased to measure it, for it could not be measured.”

During the years of plenty, Joseph becomes the father of two sons with Asenath. The names of the sons tell us a great deal about Joseph’s state of mind. The first one is Manasseh, literally meaning, “he who causes to forget.” But Genesis 41:51 says the name means, “God has made me forget completely my hardship and my parental home.” Has he been able to heal from his brothers’ physical and emotional abuse? If he had truly forgotten it, he wouldn’t be mentioning it in the name of his first-born son.  The second child is Ephraim, meaning, “God has made me fertile in the land of my affliction.” Has he forgotten the years of slavery and then being falsely accused and imprisoned in Potiphar’s house? No, he has not. He still sees Egypt as the “land of his affliction.”

But just as Joseph predicted, interpreting Pharoah’s dreams, the 7 years of abundance that the land of Egypt enjoyed come to an end. The 7 years of famine set in. When all Egypt experiences hunger and cries out to Pharaoh for bread, he tells them, “Go to Joseph; whatever he tells you, you shall do.” Joseph is the one who personally rations out grain not only to the Egyptians, but to everyone who comes for help.

The famine has extended to the land of Canaan. Chapter 42 begins with Jacob telling his sons that they need to go to Egypt and procure rations for the family, so that “they may live and not die.” The journey is at least 500 miles and will be the same journey that Joseph will make with his wife, Mary, and young Jesus, when they are fleeing from Herod in Matthew chapter 2.

Ten of Jacob’s sons make this journey on donkeys. Jacob doesn’t allow his youngest child, Benjamin, son of his beloved wife Rachel, to go with them. They make the journey, and they come before Joseph, who recognizes them and realizes that his dreams at 17 are now coming true. His brothers are bowing down to him.

Is anyone surprised at Joseph’s reaction to his brothers? He acts like a stranger to them, accuses them of being spies, and throws all 10 into the same dungeon where he languished for years, without hope of being released.

I believe he may be suffering from trauma. What we know about trauma today is that it takes time to heal. If the trauma goes on for years, as it did for Joseph, then his healing will take years, as well.

I discovered an article from January (https://alterbehavioralhealth.com/blog/stages-of-trauma-recovery/) that describes 7 stages of trauma, something like the stages of grief. The first four are: shock and denial, pain and anger, bargaining and shame, and grief and deep processing. The 5th is a turning point, when things start to change. The pain is not as severe. You have more good days than bad. You start thinking about the future and anger starts to cool down. The 6th is working through and integration. This stage is about rebuilding your life. You connect with people and do activities you enjoy. You set healthy boundaries and make new routines that support your healing. The 7th stage is acceptance, where trauma is a part of your life, but it doesn’t control you. You have learned from what happened and you can see how it changed you, because trauma changes you, but it doesn’t define who you are. Memories are not as painful. You are living a full life and not just surviving. You feel thankful for your own strength.

Who here thinks that Joseph has not reached the 7th stage of acceptance? I’m pretty sure he isn’t there, yet, despite all the years that have passed since he last saw his family.

He has a plan. His brothers are only in prison until they agree to go home and return with Benjamin. Joseph wants to see his beloved younger brother, with whom he shares a mother! Imagine how much he misses him! Benjamin was just a little boy when Joseph was taken as a slave to Egypt at 17. On the third day in prison, Joseph tells his brothers to bring Benjamin to him. “Do this and you shall live,” he promises. “For I am a God-fearing man.”

The brothers believe that actions have consequences, that we reap what we sow, though they don’t say specifically that God is punishing them for what they did to Joseph years before. “Because we looked on at his anguish yet paid no heed as he pleaded with us.” (This is the first time we hear that Joseph was pleading with his brothers when they threw him in the pit.) “That is why this distress has come upon us,” they say to each other. Do you remember the eldest? Reuben? The one who blamed himself for what happened, even though he didn’t do it? Reuben says, “Did I not tell you, ‘Do no wrong to the boy?’ But you paid no heed! Now comes the reckoning for his blood.”

They are speaking in front of Joseph, in a Canaanite dialect, and they don’t know that he understands every word. For there is an interpreter between him and them and Joseph is speaking an Egyptian language they don’t know. Joseph hears what they say, and he leaves the room so they can’t see that he is crying. Joseph has managed to rise to second in command over Egypt, and yet the thing that brings him to tears is his family problems. Is he crying because he realizes that they are sorry for what happened to him? Or is he crying at the memory of the years of trauma, remembering all the years that he has been angry with them, perhaps even hated them?

Joseph wipes his eyes, returns to them, takes his brother, Simeon, and has him bound while they watch. He releases the others with food for their starving households. For by now, all the brothers are married with children. Without them seeing him, he returns all the money that his brothers have brought to pay for the rations, slipping it into the bottom of the bags of grain so that they won’t discover it until they get home. This is a sign, I believe, that he wishes them no harm.

When the brothers return home without Simeon, and ask their father for Benjamin, Reuben, the oldest, says to his father, “You may kill my two sons if I don’t bring him back to you. Put him in my care, and I will return him to you.” But Jacob says, “No. My son must not go down with you, for his brother is dead and he alone is left.”

Jacob has 12 sons, but the only ones that truly matter to him are Joseph and Benjamin, Rachel’s children. He speaks as if Benjamin is the only son he has left.

The severe famine in the land continues. The rations will eventually run out.

Jacob is faced with a choice—let the whole family starve or risk sending one of his sons back to Egypt with his beloved Benjamin, whom he may never see again.

Will the family be reconciled? Will there be forgiveness?  Will Joseph find healing after his years of trauma?

Come back next Sunday for the final chapter of the Joseph Story, “The Big Reveal.”

Let us pray.

Lord, we thank you for our families, for our children and grandchildren, whom we love. Thank you that each one is different, unique, and that you have a special plan for their lives. We lift up our children and grandchildren who may be struggling right now, especially those who are young adults. We ask that you be with them, guide and protect them, and provide for all their needs. Grant them wisdom and courage to weather these difficult times. We pray for peace in our families, dear Lord. Let there be forgiveness and healing wherever there is brokenness and hurt. Let your Spirit fill our hearts and households and reign over our lives, empowering us to walk in your loving ways. Amen.

Joseph’s Rise to Power

Meditation on Genesis 40-41, selected passages

Reverend Dr. Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

March 15, 2026

Are any of you dreamers? Do you remember your dreams when you wake up?  

I have had some vivid dreams in my life. I wouldn’t say that my dreams are a divine gift—or that I always even understand my dreams. But I can think of a few that may have had a deeper meaning for me.

When I was a young woman with small children, attending an evangelical church, I shared a puzzling dream that I had with an older Christian woman who had taken me under her wing. In the dream, the water was rising—and I was on some kind of higher ground, and I can still remember reaching forward to try and grasp the hands of people who were struggling under the water. I had a sense of urgency that I couldn’t stop reaching for them and pulling them out of the water. The woman told me that the water symbolized the Holy Spirit, and that through sharing my faith, I was reaching out to rescue those who were perishing. I didn’t sense any call to ministry at that point, and I sure didn’t see myself as an evangelist. I was a stay-at-home mother of three. But I did start a Bible study in my home for other mothers who were home with their children.

And I promptly forgot the dream, until recently, when I was thinking about Joseph and his dreams and his gift of interpretation. I think that the older woman, Krissy was her name, was right on the money. I was maybe 30 years old. It took a LONG time for any of that dream to become a reality.

Dreams feature prominently throughout the Joseph story, but it’s not until we reach chapter 41, which begins with Pharaoh’s dream, that we have a strong sense, finally, that the dreams of the handsome 17-year-old boy, with his coat of many colors, really are going to come true. As soon as we learn of Joseph’s ability to interpret the dreams of the cup bearer and the baker, for better and for worse, and that he is confident this ability has come from the Lord, we know that he is going to be the one who will interpret Pharoah’s dreams.

Notice how the dreams in Joseph often come in twos. In verse 32, Joseph says that having two dreams only confirm that the matter has been “determined by God, and that God will soon carry it out.” (JPS Torah Commentary) Joseph had two dreams with the same meaning in chapter 37. The cupbearer and baker both have dreams on the same night and Joseph, when he sees they are downcast, offers to help. He says to them, “Do not interpretations belong to God? Please tell them to me.”

We don’t know how long Joseph has been in prison by now. The passage starts, “After a while.” We get the feeling, though, that he may have been in the prison a long time! He may well have forgotten his own dreams of grandeur when he was a boy. He urges the cupbearer to remember him when all is well. “Please do me the kindness to make mention of me to Pharaoh and so get me out of this place.” This is the only time we hear him sharing his testimony in prison, saying that he was “stolen out of the land of the Hebrews,” and has done nothing to warrant being placed in a dungeon.  

Chapter 40 ends with the cupbearer forgetting about him. Two more years pass in Potiphar’s prison before the cupbearer hears about Pharaoh’s dreams and how all the magicians of Egypt, all the “wise men,” are unable to interpret them. He remembers Joseph only when it might be used to his advantage with Pharaoh.

Does this talk of wise men or magicians remind you of the story of Jesus in Matthew, when the “magi” come from the East looking for the child who was born king of the Jews? The gospel writer intends for us to make that connection between Jesus and Joseph, as well as the story of Moses. In Exodus, Pharaoh’s magicians will fail again. However, Aaron’s staff swallows the rods of the magicians, and they fail to replicate the plague of gnats. They are forced to admit that the God of Moses and Aaron is more powerful than Egyptian magic.

When Joseph is brought before Pharaoh, he credits the Lord with his ability. He tells him that God cares not only about the Jewish people, but about Pharaoh and the people of Egypt. In the JPS Torah Commentary, Joseph says, “Not I! God will see to Pharoah’s welfare.” Just like the two dreams that Joseph had and shared with his family, the two dreams of Pharaoh have the same meaning.

I want to point out two things here. One is that dreams in Joseph’s culture are universally recognized as means of divine communication. (256). “God doesn’t figure explicitly in the content of (Joseph’s or Pharoah’s) dreams; yet it is taken for granted that He is the source of the message begin conveyed. The predictive aspect of dreams was (also) universally assumed in the ancient world.” (256). This is why Pharaoh is so troubled! He knows the dreams are important, but he doesn’t understand them, the assumption being because he doesn’t know the God of Israel, Joseph’s father.

The other thing I want to tell you about is famine. There is nothing more destructive to a people in ancient times than famine; it’s usually caused by drought or erratic rainfall, but sometimes it’s because of an infestation of insects or human conflicts—wars and attacks.

The ancients understood famine as sent by the gods, often as punishment; and the events of our text suggest that God is indeed the prime mover here.” (Everett Fox, The Five Books of Moses, 196)

The effects of this famine will be far reaching –throughout the land of Egypt and beyond. “Worldwide famine creates the backdrop for the family drama that is about to unfold.” (Fox, 196)

Famines cause economic and physical devastation in the ancient world. Farmers lose their farms when they can’t pay the taxes, and taxes are paid out of what the land produces. Famines can lead to widespread hunger and starvation, and something else—migration.

Famine occurs at least 16 times in the Bible. In the Old Testament, Joseph’s great grandfather, Abram, in Genesis 12, struggles with famine in Canaan. Where does he take his wife and family? To Egypt. In the book of Ruth, famine leads Ruth and her mother-in-law, Naomi, to leave Moab and return to Naomi’s hometown, Bethlehem. They arrive at the time of the harvest and Ruth meets her future husband, Boaz, when she is working in the fields. Without that famine in Moab, Ruth wouldn’t have met Boaz, they would never have given birth to Obed, who would be the father of David, and an ancestor of Jesus Christ.

Famine is mentioned in the New Testament. Jesus, in Matthew 24, tells his disciples that famine is one of the signs of his imminent return and the end of the age. In Acts 11, a prophet named Agabus visits the church at Antioch and, through the Spirit, predicts that a “severe famine would spread over the entire Roman world. (This happened during the reign of Claudius.) The disciples decide to take an offering and help the brothers and sisters in Judea.

Back to Joseph. Not only does he interpret Pharoah’s dreams; he comes up with a solution to the problem of famine. But he makes it sound like the solution is Pharoah’s idea. He says, at verse 33, “Now therefore let Pharaoh select a man who is discerning and wise and set him over the land of Egypt.” Who is the one that Pharaoh will select? Joseph, of course. He tells him to appoint overseers and save 1/5 of the produce in the cities during the years of plenty as a reserve during the years of famine.  

Pharoah is certain that God is using Joseph. “Since God has shown you all this, there is no one so discerning and wise as you.” He gives him his signet ring, places it on his hand. Joseph will be his second in command.  He says, “See, I have set you over all the land of Egypt.” 

He has waited for years in the prison in his master Potiphar’s house, caring for the other prisoners. And now, he will wear garments of fine linen and a gold chain around his neck.

Now he rides in a chariot and the people bow before him.

Soon he will have to decide just what kind of leader the Lord will have him be. Will he be another hard man like Pharoah, enjoying his power and privilege? And will everything that Joseph predicted from Pharaoh’s dreams come to pass? What then?

Dear friends, I hope that you are thinking about some of your dreams today and this week. I  do believe that God can speak to us through our dreams, but the meaning might not be immediately obvious. Sometimes another person can help us find a deeper meaning.

So, keep on dreaming! Hold onto your faith! You might be in a time of plenty in your life. You may be in a time of famine. These times can go on for years and seem to have no end.

But like Joseph, the Lord our God is with you and me!  And our lives are part of a much bigger plan than we can see.

I’ve had another dream, and this one I have had repeatedly. Do you want to hear about it? I am in some kind of a place, with many other people. The places are a little different each time. So are the people. Some I know. Some look familiar, but I have no idea who they are. Some are relatives who have passed away. Some are still living, but they are from my past and I don’t know why we are all in the same place together. I have a strange feeling as I walk from room to room.

Whenever I have that dream, I always tell Jim about it. He always asks the same question, “Where was the house??? Did you see anything that would give it away?” Sometimes, it’s at a seashore. I can hear the ocean. Other times, it’s in an old section of a town, with a lovely little garden in the back yard. Sometimes, it’s a snowy place.

I can’t explain the dream, but the strongest feeling I have is that it is in the mysterious age to come. I am not dreaming about this life at all. And while I don’t hear God’s voice, I know the Lord is with me. I am safe in God’s arms. I am home.

Will you pray with me? Let us pray.

Loving God, thank you for caring for the world, Jew and Gentile alike, even from the time of Joseph, when you cared about the people of Egypt who may have perished in the famine. Reveal your will and encourage us through our dreams. Help us to persevere in the faith and be a witness for your love, mercy, and generosity through years of scarcity and plenty. In the name of Jesus we pray. Amen.

Falsely Accused

Meditation on Genesis 39

Reverend Dr. Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

March 8, 2026

Memphis, the ancient capital of Egypt, from from https://www.cleopatraegypttours.com/travel-guide/giza-attractions/memphis-ancient-egypt/

I have been thinking about struggle lately. And the role of struggle in our lives and in our journeys of faith. It’s hard enough when we are amidst our personal struggles, but it can be even harder, at times, to watch someone else struggling and simply walk beside them, and hope and pray.

We can feel helpless when our loved ones, especially our children and grandchildren, are struggling. What do we want to do? We want to make everything better for them.

Sometimes, when we try to help someone whom we see struggling, we really need to pray about it, first. Because we aren’t always helping them. We may be robbing them of an opportunity to develop resilience.

Scripture tells us of the importance of struggle in our lives and how we need to learn to rely on the Lord for our strength. Isaiah 40:31 says, “But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” James 1:2-4 says, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” Paul writes in Romans 5, “And we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”

I stumbled on a fable this week about a little boy and a butterfly. Do you know the story? This is how it goes.

One day a little boy found a caterpillar and took him home to take care of him. He checked on the caterpillar every day and made sure he had plenty of leaves for food. Then the little boy noticed that the caterpillar was starting to spin its chrysalis. It was preparing for its metamorphosis. The little boy was so excited to see the butterfly that this caterpillar would become.

From How to Raise Monarch Butterflies at https://www.facebook.com/groups/HowtoRaiseMonarchButterflies

But first there would be a time of darkness, stillness, and rest before the big transformation.

After a couple weeks, he saw a small hole in the chrysalis. He noticed that the butterfly was struggling to get out of the chrysalis. When he saw the butterfly struggling so hard, he worried that it might not be able to free itself. He thought the butterfly needed his help. 

He took scissors and cut the chrysalis to make the hole bigger. The butterfly emerged! But its body was swollen; the wings were small and shriveled. The little boy cried, “What happened?”

The struggle, it turns out, is necessary for a butterfly’s development. They “release a chemical when they’re getting out of their chrysalis that strengthens their wings. Their movements inside the chrysalis pump fluid into their wings, which help the wings expand. Their Houdini-like escape act helps them build the necessary muscles to do all things butterfly related.”[1]

In Genesis 39, 17-year-old Joseph has been cast into the pit by his brothers, then sold to his cousins, the Midianites, who will sell him into slavery when their caravan reaches Egypt. The Midianites are related to Joseph’s great uncle Ishmael, Abraham’s eldest son with his wife Sarah’s slave, Hagar.  Through the life and trials of Joseph, the promise of God in Genesis 15:3 to his great grandfather, then still known as Abram, is beginning to be fulfilled: “Then the Lord said to Abram, “Know this for certain, that your offspring shall be aliens in a land that is not theirs and shall be slaves there, and they shall be oppressed for four hundred years.”

Joseph has been taken to Memphis, the ancient capital of Egypt, founded by the first Pharaoh on a floodplain of the western side of the Nile. Today, it’s about 12-15 miles south of modern day Cairo in the village of Mit Rahina.

In its golden age, it was a thriving regional center for commerce, trade, and religion, as well as the royal residence.

The city was thought to be under the protection of the god Ptah.  The city is in ruins today,

Memphis, the ancient capital of Egypt, from from https://www.cleopatraegypttours.com/travel-guide/giza-attractions/memphis-ancient-egypt/

but its royal tombs and pyramids—the Memphis Necropolis—is a UNESCO world heritage site. What little has been discovered at Memphis is gathered in an open-air Museum in the village of Mit Rahina. The showpiece is a colossal limestone statue of Ramses II.

Rameses II at from https://www.cleopatraegypttours.com/travel-guide/giza-attractions/memphis-ancient-egypt/

Joseph’s master is a man of high status and power, an adviser to Pharaoh in the royal court. Potiphar is chief steward and executioner, ready to act on Pharoah’s whims. And he takes a liking to Joseph. The young man flourishes, though he is a slave and has been forced to leave his identity, family, and former life behind. Don’t you wonder why he is able to bloom where he is planted? Because the Lord is with him.

This is the first time the Lord is mentioned in Joseph’s story. The word for Lord here is the unspoken proper name of the God of Israel—YHWH—and not the generic elohim. This divine name is used only in this chapter of Joseph’s story. The point is to “emphasize that the unfolding events in the odyssey of Joseph are key elements in God’s plan for Israel.”[2]

God being “with Joseph,” says Hebrew scholar Nahum Sarna, is the explanation for how a “spoiled lad of 17, utterly alone in a foreign land and in dire adversity, suddenly matures and acquires great strength of character. He can (and will) rise again and again in situations that would surely have crushed others.”[3] He is a “successful man.” “The Lord caused all that he did to prosper in his hands.”

Potiphar makes him his personal assistant, puts him in charge of the entire household. God, in the Lord’s mysterious ways, is moving Joseph into a position where he will be able to help more people. Unfortunately, Potiphar’s wife also likes Joseph and wants him. For Joseph is “handsome and goodlooking.” Notice that the wife isn’t named. She won’t be remembered by future generations—only that she was Potiphar’s wife. She takes hold of his garment and demands that he lie with her. Joseph runs for his life, leaving his clothing behind, not willing to betray the trust of his master or to sin before God!

Are you wondering how this young man has developed such a strong faith? The maturing of his faith and the formation of his character came from the struggle—first with his brothers, who threw him into a pit, and then as a slave, sold by his brothers and cousins, bought by an executioner.

No one witnesses Potiphar’s wife sexually harassing Joseph. It is a case of “he said, she said.” After all that Joseph has done to prove his trustworthiness and value to Potiphar, it means nothing because he is a slave. The wife manages to blame the incident on her husband, as well as Joseph, when she says, “The Hebrew servant, whom you have brought among us, came in to me to insult me,but as soon as I raised my voice and cried out, he left his garment beside me and fled outside.”

Potiphar is enraged and throws Joseph in jail. And get this, the prison is in his own house! Joseph is placed with other royal prisoners who have angered Pharoah. But the chief jailer recognizes Joseph’s gifts and entrusts him with the care of all the other prisoners. Why? Because the Lord is with Joseph, and whatever he does, the Lord makes it prosper.

Joseph’s father has no idea that all this is happening to his favorite son. His brothers have convinced their father that Joseph has been killed by a wild animal rather than admit the cruel things that they have done to him that has made him lost to his family forever. But if Jacob knew of Joseph’s situation, I am sure he would fight for Joseph’s rescue and release. He certainly wouldn’t have allowed his son to be sold into slavery or thrown into a deep pit. He would want to take all his pain and struggle away. But then the Lord would not be able to use Joseph for God’s wonderful plan—to save the lives of many people.

In the fable of the little boy and the butterfly, the butterfly was never able to fly. It could only crawl around with shriveled wings.

Dear ones, may you never be discouraged in times of struggle. The Lord your God is still with us and wants to help us in our metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly. Remember the butterfly and its shriveled wings. Don’t give up!

And now I will close with some famous quotes about resilience, before I pray.

“Our greatest weakness lies in giving up.

The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time.”

 (Thomas Edison)

“Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”

(Confucius)

“Fall seven times, stand up eight.”

(Japanese Proverb)

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

(Winston Churchill)

“Only those who dare to fail greatly, can ever achieve greatly.”

(Robert F. Kennedy)

“Turn your wounds into wisdom.”

(Oprah Winfrey)

“I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance.”

(Lee Ann Womack in “I Hope You Dance”)

Let us pray.

Holy God of Creation, you are our Lord, our God, and you are with us in every age. Thank you for your faithfulness to us, from generation to generation. Thank you that we can trust you as we seek you each day, sharing the load of our struggles and burdens with you. Help us, Lord, so that we never give up hope and that we keep on trying, no matter how often we fall or fail. Thank you that we can trust you to care for us and for all our loved ones. For you, O God who is Love, care for our families even more than we love them. Teach us, Lord, how to help people in ways that are truly helpful, that strengthen them in hope and body, mind, and soul as they continue their life’s journey and journeys of faith. Help us all in our metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly. In the name of Christ, Your Son, our Savior, we pray. Amen.

[1] https://rockpaperscissorsinc.com/what-we-can-learn-from-a-butterflys-struggle-to-escape-its-chrysalis/

[2] Nahum Sarna, The JPS Torah Commentary on Genesis (USA: Polebridge Press for the Jewish Publication Society, 1989), 271.

[3] Nahum Sarna, Genesis, 271.

In the Pit

Meditation on Genesis 37:12-36

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Reverend Dr. Karen Crawford

Second Sunday in Lent

March 1, 2026

Who came to our women’s retreat here at the church yesterday? It was so nice, wasn’t it? Many thanks to the team of women who made it happen! And some of the men who helped us set up on Friday night.

When I was preparing for “Consider the Lilies: Finding Peace in Anxious Times,” I started thinking about how some people tend to be more anxious than others.

I shared with our group that I think I have been anxious my entire life. I can’t remember a day when I wasn’t anxious. My parents told me that even when I was a baby, my body was tense when they held me. Except I found a picture of my dad holding maybe 1-year-old me in his lap after my bath. I looked happy. I’ve always loved my baths! And I was holding my blue plastic whale. That made me happy, I’m sure.

By the end of Genesis 37, we know so much about Joseph and his father and brothers. We know how the family system operates. We notice how everyone in the family is worried about what their father, Jacob/Israel, will think of them. They are all hungry for his love and attention.

Today’s passage begins with Israel having an anxiety attack about his sons. He is worried that something has happened while they are out shepherding the family’s herds. He calls 17-year-old Joseph, the second to the youngest of 12 and the first child of Israel’s beloved wife, Rachel, who died giving birth to her second son, Benjamin. We haven’t met him, yet, but we will, and he will play a larger role later.

Israel asks Joseph in verse 13, “Are not your brothers pasturing the flock at Shechem? Come, I will send you to them.” Joseph answers, “Here I am.” This “Here I am,” is an echo of what Isaac says to Abraham in Genesis 22, when his father calls him to go up the holy mountain with him. On the mountain, Abraham will prepare to sacrifice his only son with Sarah, though he loves Isaac more than life itself. It is a test of faith. At the last minute, while Abraham is holding up the knife, God sends a ram, whose horns get caught in a nearby thicket. The ram becomes the sacrifice, in lieu of Isaac.

This “Here I am,” then, foreshadows immanent misfortune, but also Joseph’s own faithfulness to his father, Israel, and Israel’s God.

When Israel calls Joseph, the Hebrew tells more of the meaning than the English. He tells Joseph to go and check the shalom of his brothers. Shalom means peace, but also well-being, completeness, wholeness, welfare.

Shechem is an ancient city in what is now the West Bank and will be the first capital of the Northern Kingdom of Israel, and the place of the renewal of the covenant with God in Joshua 24. It is “blessed with an adequate water supply and fertile soil, and the city itself holds rich associations for Jacob and his family.”[1] This is where Jacob encamped “after returning from his long exile abroad, bought a plot of land, and set up an altar to the ‘God of Israel’ (33:18-20). Joseph’s remains were to be later interred in that very plot (Josh. 24:32).”[2]

However, Shechem had also “been the site of a bloody massacre carried out by the brothers, who had … captured the city (34)” after their sister, Dinah, daughter of Leah, went to visit the “daughters of the land” and was taken by force by the chief’s son, who was named Shechem. [3] The brothers rescued Dinah, killed Shechem and his father, the chief, “seized all the flocks, herds, and (donkeys), all that was inside the town and outside, all their wealth, all their children, and their wives, and all that was in the houses, they took as captives and booty.”

Are you wondering why Jacob would send his favorite son into such danger? Me, too. And why he would send Joseph off to be alone with his brothers in the wilderness, when they hated him so much?

Nahum Sarna, a Jewish scholar who edited the JPS Torah Commentary on Genesis, believes that “Jacob’s action is surprising and Joseph’s ready response no less so [and that] “clearly the brothers had … successfully disguised their true feelings and, indeed, there is no record of their having uttered any threats against Joseph.”[4]

Joseph’s journey to assess the shalom of his brothers meant a 50 mile walk from Hebron, where the family lived, to Shechem. Dothan was an ancient fortress town about 13 miles northwest of Shechem. The entire journey would have taken at least 5 days and he went alone.[5]

When Joseph’s brothers lay eyes on him, they are consumed with their hatred, which they no longer have to hide because their father isn’t there. “Here comes that dreamer!” they say. “Come now, let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits.” They rehearse the lie that they are going to tell.

But the oldest son, Reuben, whose mother was Leah, is the voice of reason and responsibility. He says, “Let us not take his life. Shed no blood!”

They throw him into a pit, a deep cistern carved out of rock used to gather and store water in the rainy season. “Dried out cisterns were occasionally used as temporary places of detention,”[6] and those committing murder would kill their victims near these pits and dispose of their bodies in them.

Reuben talks his brothers into throwing Joseph into the pit without killing him first. He is deceiving them, for he intends to go back to Joseph secretly and set him free.

Then the brothers all sit down to a meal, and they see a caravan of Ishmaelites go by and get a new idea. Maybe they can make some money and get rid of Joseph at the same time.

Remember how I said that everyone is related to everyone else in this story?

 Well, the Ishmaelites who buy Joseph from his brother Judah are related to their great grandfather, Abraham, who had a child with his wife’s Egyptian maid, Hagar, before Sarah gave birth to Isaac, their grandfather. After Isaac is born, Sarah wants Hagar and her son, Ishmael, gone, so Abraham abandons the mother and child in the wilderness.

But God is with them. Ishmael, as Abraham’s son, is included in the promise of blessing of land and progeny. His descendants are the 12 princes who established tribes on the Arabian Peninsula. So, there are 12 tribes of Israel and 12 tribes of Ishmael. In the Islamic tradition, Ishmael is a patriarch and ancestor of the Prophet Muhammad.

Joseph is sold to a Midianite group of Ishmaelites, who came from the Northwestern Arabian Peninsula, primarily from what is now Saudi Arabia. He is sold for 20 pieces of silver.

I am wondering, at this point, if Judah will ever tell Reuben what really happened—that he persuaded the other brothers to sell him? Will Reuben tell his brothers that he was secretly planning to free him? Reuben, in the end, blames himself, as he is the eldest, for letting the situation get out of hand. When he sees the empty pit, he tears his clothes in grief and cries, “The boy is gone! Now what am I to do?”

They still have the ornamental tunic. They slaughter one of the young goats that they are supposed to be protecting in the herd. And they present the bloody, torn tunic to their father, who tears his clothes and mourns for many days, refusing to be comforted.

But the one whom Jacob presumes dead has been taken to Egypt and sold to Potiphar, a companion or advisor to Pharaoh in the royal court and his chief steward, which could mean that he is either a cook or “slaughterer, that is executioner.”[7]

Joseph is right where the Lord wants him to be.

At the retreat yesterday, some women shared how they saw God’s hand working in their lives during some of their most anxious times.

They told how the Lord used people in our church family to help them in their time of need—when God had them right where the Lord wanted them to be.

Let us pray.

Holy One, thank you for the story of Joseph and his brothers, which shows us how complicated and how human families have always been, and the difficulties that your people have persevered, with your help. We are amazed at the path Joseph took to get to Egypt, where he will eventually rise to power and be positioned to save many lives. But not without suffering and hardships to come and not without having a change of heart toward those who threw him in a pit and sold him into slavery. Help us, dear Lord, to persevere with the faith and strength of Joseph, who learned to trust in you and care for your people. Help us to see your hand in our lives during our anxious times. In Christ we pray. Amen.

[1] Nahum Sarna, Genesis, JPS Torah Commentary (Philadelphia: JPS, 1989), 258.

[2] Nahum Sarna, Genesis, 258.

[3] Sarna, Genesis, 258.

[4] Sarna, Genesis, 258.

[5] Sarna, Genesis, 258.

[6] Sarna, Genesis, 259.

[7] Sarna, Genesis, 263.

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