Sharing God's Love and Grace

Meditation on Luke 2:1–20

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Christmas Eve

Dec. 24, 2023

I have to ask. Who here also came to our morning worship service? Thanks for coming back!

I have to make a confession. When I woke up this morning, my head wasn’t connected to my body. I had made such a big deal about how the morning service on Christmas Eve would have the children’s story. I said that repeatedly during announcements in worship and in our newsletter.

When I arrived at church this morning, my hands were filled with bags—including two huge bags with goodie bags for the children. But no story. I had left the picture book I planned to read to the children at home.

I discovered this about 15 minutes before the worship service was set to begin. I toyed with the idea—very briefly—of going back home to get the book. Of course, there wouldn’t be enough time.

I had worked so hard choosing a children’s Christmas story to read aloud. The perfectionist in me chose a book called, ‘Twas The Evening Before Christmas, but I had changed the ending and had all these sticky notes on pages that I wasn’t going to read, but that I would just show the pictures. Because the story was wrong! That bothered me.

On the last page of Twas the Evening Before Christmas, Mary whispers, “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!” There was no Christmas when Jesus was born. There were no Christians! And Mary was Jewish!!

All of this is cluttering my mind –and it’s 10 minutes before 10 a.m. Soon the bells would be chiming.

Well, I will just tell the story of Christ’s birth, I decide, using one of the nativity scenes in my office. I carry it into the sanctuary, set up it on a table—and then I notice that someone is missing. Joseph! There is NO Joseph!

So, I run back to my office looking to borrow a Joseph figurine from one of my other nativities. Guess what? My other nativities didn’t have a Joseph, except for one where he was glued into the scene. That wasn’t going to work. I needed to be able to move him around with the story.

I felt sorry for Joseph for about 30 seconds, until I remembered how in Matthew, he finds out Mary is pregnant before they are married—and he decides to break it off quietly, as if they were never engaged. In Mary’s time, a young Jewish girl would have been considered marriageable when she was 12 years and 6 months. Every marriage was preceded by a betrothal, after which the bride legally belonged to her bridegroom—so she belonged to Joseph, though she didn’t live with him and wouldn’t until the marriage was celebrated about a year after she became engaged.

If an angel hadn’t appeared to Joseph in a dream and confirmed Mary’s story of her pregnancy by the Holy Spirit, the Christmas story would have been completely changed. She may not have been traveling the long, arduous journey of 90 miles by foot over the hilly Judean countryside when the emperor decreed that all must be registered for the census in the father’s or husband’s ancestral place of birth. It was Joseph who was descended from the house and lineage of David, who was from Bethlehem. It IS possible that Mary, too, was descended from David, but we don’t know for sure. Luke tells us that Mary was a relative of the formerly barren Elizabeth, who was pregnant with John when Mary became pregnant with Jesus and went to visit her. Elizabeth was “of the daughters of Aaron,” and she and her priest husband, Zechariah were “righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless.”

At about 5 minutes before 10 this morning, I decided that a shepherd would have to stand in for Joseph in the children’s story. I used a sheep figurine to tell the part of the shepherds coming to see Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

The Christmas story, when you think about it, while so familiar and comfortable to us who have been Christians for a long time, is full of strange twists and turns. Here is this travel weary couple, the young woman gives birth to her firstborn son without her mother or a midwife to help her. She lays him in a manger—an animal feeding trough—proof enough to me that there must have been farm animals witnessing the birth, though no animals are mentioned in Luke’s account.

We don’t know exactly where she gives birth—whether it was a stable or a cave. The Bible doesn’t say. The Church of the Nativity in the Holy Land was built over an ancient cave, they say, that was the place that Christ was born. But it’s still a mystery.

 The manger scene that I grew up with had horses, camels, donkeys, cows, a dog, chicken, and, of course, some sheep. They had come with the shepherds when they made haste after the angels told them about the infant born in the small town of Bethlehem, overcrowded with exhausted travelers like Mary and Joseph because of the emperor’s decree. The sign that he was the long-awaited Messiah, our King of kings? The babe would be wrapped in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.

Cynthia Rigby, a theology professor at Austin Presbyterian Seminary and one of my favorite teachers in the Doctor of Ministry program, writes,

“Mary and Joseph make a home where there is no home; Jesus nestles in the manger and is nurtured in his parents’ arms; the shepherds tell the story of the angels, gathered in the dim candlelight of the stable, as if they are with old friends.”

 I have considerable relief when Cindy goes on to validate my sentimental view of the manger scene, the Christmas story that we tell, again and again, in the greatest of detail. “There is something theologically correct about our nostalgic portrayals of the nativity,” she says. “The happy family and guests huddled ‘round the manger made of straw, a warm brown cow looking on, softly chewing. What is right about this is that there is a home—a home whose hearth is Jesus Christ himself. He is the center of Mary and Joseph’s life, the song of the angels, the mission of the shepherds. Where the Christ child lays, the story tells us, is home. This child is born for ‘all the people.’ He is our Savior and Messiah, the one in whom our unsettledness gives way to great joy and peace.”

As I read this entry in a 2008 commentary, today—after the Christmas Eve service this morning that was less than perfect, for a number of reasons—my mind holds an image of my beautiful teacher—younger than I and struggling with early onset Parkinson’s, recently diagnosed.

A year ago June, when she co-taught a seminar on wonder and creativity at Ghost Ranch, New Mexico, her hand shook so badly when she talked that the water she held in her paper cup would spill out on the floor. The once eloquent theologian, still passionate preacher, and prolific author, who urged us to write books while we still can and share our words with the next generations, struggled to finish her lectures and meals with us. Her uneaten food lay on her plate as she so graciously answered question after question that we asked. Cindy, a former journalist with the Dallas Morning News, is also a perfectionist—and I can only imagine how this terrible, frightening progressive disorder is turning her life upside down.

I was hoping to see her and her husband, my other favorite teacher, in a few weeks when I travel to Austin for another seminar. But she has taken a year off on sabbatical after not being well enough to teach her scheduled seminar last June.

If the Christmas story teaches us anything, it’s that if something can go wrong, it will. But that there are always divine surprises in low places, that it is always darkest before the dawn, and that our God cares about and values the lives of ordinary people, such as shepherds who are engaged in the most ordinary of all work for their time—watching over flocks by night—when they receive the extraordinary message from the heavenly host. “It is to us—ordinary people—that a son is born,” Cindy writes. “He is finally born, on this very evening, to we who have been waiting for the Messiah to come and change the world.”

Contrary to the expectations of many, “he does not seem to have come with the purpose of being a revolutionary. He is, as it turns out, just a baby. Surrounding the stable at Bethlehem, the forces of the empire that have orchestrated a census will soon make plans to murder newborn sons and will systematically crucify those who challenge conventional understandings of divine and human power. They, like us, are not expecting a threat to come from something so ordinary.

“Who suspects that this baby born today in the city of David will save us? That this baby born to Mary will bring us peace? That this baby’s consistent, persistent, habitual, ordinary obedience to God will have an extraordinary revolutionary impact?

“With the shepherds, we should tell what we know about this child.” This is my hope for you—for us—that we will tell what we know about this child and what we love about him and how he loves us! “With those who hear, we should stand amazed. With young Mary, we should treasure the extraordinary ordinary things of Christmas, pondering them in our hearts.”

Let us pray.

Holy One, thank you for sending Your Son to be our Savior and Messiah, the one in whom our unsettledness gives way to great joy and peace. We invite your Spirit to make its home in our hearts and guide us in our lives all our days. Stir us to treasure these strange but familiar words of the Christmas story and take time, with Mary, not just on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day but every day to ponder the words of angels, shepherds, and magi in our hearts. Help us to be part of the change in this world, the light in the darkness that began to shine when your Son was born and laid in a manger–because there was no room at the inn. In his name we pray. Amen.

Meditation on Luke 1:26-38

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Fourth Sunday of Advent/Christmas Eve

Dec. 24, 2023

In Nazareth today, two separate holy sites commemorate the annunciation. Sometimes more than one holy site commemorates the same event because two different communities claim their stretch of land is the place where a given story really happened.

Well, that’s not the case with the annunciation. This is according to Katie Kirk, a scholar living in the interfaith context of Jerusalem and studying at St. George’s College (Christian Century, Dec. 2023). One site is near an ancient well, she says in Christian Century this month, and the other is just down the hill in the traditional location of Mary’s house. 

So, why two separate sites? Because “some traditions tell the story this way: the first time the angel Gabriel appears to Mary is while she is gathering water at a well. When he starts his announcement with ‘Greetings, favored woman,’ Mary is so startled that she runs all the way home. Despite what holiday cards and Christmas pageants may have entrenched in our collective memory, Gabriel was probably not an Italian painting’s angel with great hair,” Katie says, “nor was he garbed in a floppy surplice and crooked pipe-cleaner halo. I would be startled, too. What’s more, some versions of the story say that the angel follows her. The angel Gabriel follows her to her house, eventually making it all the way through his announcement, at which time Mary agrees to be the mother of God.”

In these 12 verses, Luke describes Mary as “favored, perplexed, thoughtful, and afraid.” She “questions, believes, and submits” to her calling, to her vocation! This is the first time reading this passage that I have thought about Mary having a calling to be the mother of God. This thought came to me while reading an article by Cynthia Rigby, a theology professor at Austin Presbyterian Seminary. Cindy co-led my Doctor of Ministry course a year ago June in New Mexico.

Cindy, like Katie, also considers how Mary has been depicted somewhat inaccurately in artwork. “Some show Mary and Gabriel talking as two old friends sharing a secret,” she says. “Others show Mary sitting at Gabriel’s feet in submission, agitated by the news he is sharing.” (Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol 1, 2008, pp. 93-95.) Neither one of these images really fit the story in Luke—when she is perplexed, thoughtful—pondering what his words mean because she doesn’t understand!—and afraid. So much so, that the first thing the angel says after greeting her and telling her the Lord is with her is, “Do not be afraid!”

I can picture Mary dropping her water jar and running home from the well to escape the angel, only to be more terrified when she discovers that he has followed her home!

Somehow, the realistic image of Mary painted in Luke as being doubtful, questioning, and afraid—rather than being chosen by God because she is sinless and perfect—makes ME feel better about Mary, her calling, and my calling, which was NOT accompanied by an angelic visit, but is something that has unfolded over the years and is still unfolding as I imperfectly seek to be obedient to God’s will.

Protestant Theology, unlike the belief of our Roman Catholic neighbors, is that the extraordinary thing about Mary isn’t her SINLESSNESS or PERFECTION, but her sheer “ordinariness”! She, like us, “is a member of the ‘priesthood of all believers’ who emulates for all of us sinful, embodied saints the mysterious reality that we are integrally included in the work of God.” (Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol 1, 2008, p. 94)  Reformer John Calvin “rejects the idea that Gabriel’s identification of Mary as ‘favored’ suggests that she is ‘worthy of praise.’ Rather, Gabriel recognizes Mary as the ‘happy one’ who has received the undeserved love of God, who alone is to be adored.”

Mary is the one who says YES—after fear and doubt dissipate, after her question of HOW it will happen is answered. She says YES! After the terrifying angel tells her about Elizabeth’s miraculous pregnancy and says, “For nothing will be impossible with God.”

Mary says YES. “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

The angel departs. And I can’t help but marvel at all the things the angel didn’t say.

He didn’t tell her how difficult it would be to share the news with her betrothed—Joseph, who would consider calling off the engagement, quietly, when he learns she is pregnant. But then an angel of the Lord appears to him in a dream and confirms what she has said. He didn’t say that there would be a long, hard journey for young Mary to make in her 9^th month of pregnancy when the emperor decrees that all the world must be registered for a tax. She and Joseph will walk—she had no donkey to ride, contrary to our Christmas cards– about 90 miles in four days, averaging a 2.5-mph pace for roughly eight hours a day. He didn’t tell her that when they finally arrive in Bethlehem, the town is completely overwhelmed by travelers forced to return to register for the census. There will be NO place to stay. He didn’t tell her that she would give birth to Jesus in a stable, far from her home and family, including her mother. And that a manger of hay would serve as her firstborn son’s cradle. He didn’t say that King Herod would be seeking to kill the child who would be King of the Jews. And that Mary and Joseph would have to flee with Jesus to Egypt for a time—even farther from their home and family. 

The angel also didn’t tell her about all the good things that would happen when Mary would see evidence of the angel’s promise coming true– when the 12-year-old boy Jesus is found in the temple, astounding his teachers. When Jesus preaches the good news in the synagogue, on a mountain, and from a boat pushed off from shore. How he heals the sick and casts out demons, stills a storm, and feeds a multitude with a few loaves and fish. How he turns water into wine, eats with sinners and opens wide God’s salvation to all people. How he forgives people of their sins, including those who persecute him cruelly at the end.

The angel didn’t tell her about the cross—or the empty tomb. Not when Mary said YES.

Today, on the morning of Christmas Eve, we welcome 9 new members. Today, we say YES as a church of Jesus Christ to their request to be more formally one of the flock. All have answered the call to discipleship with this particular congregation. Though they have been Christ’s followers for years—and our sisters and brothers– most were strangers when they first came. Since coming, they have become our friends.

We rejoice and give thanks that 9 people have said YES. We don’t take credit for the growth, for it is by the grace of God, who uses ordinary, imperfect people, trying their best to follow Christ each day.

Some of our new members may have had some doubts and fears before making the commitment to join with us. They might have been hurt by churches, Christians in the past. They may need our help and God’s help to experience healing and to discover their gifts for ministry.

Doubts and fears, as Mary models for us, are natural and normal in our journey of faith. Doubts and fears don’t make null and void our call to be Christ’s disciples! They are part of it! They help us seek answers and grow in peace, hope, love, faith, and witness. We might wonder, sometimes, what we were thinking when we said YES to God and YES to a particular church when we see some of our imperfections up close. Fear and doubt will fade as we learn to trust our gracious God, prayerfully, together. God will help us!

As Mary was Christ’s faithful disciple from the moment she said YES to the angel, despite what he didn’t say that would come to pass, may the Lord strengthen us to be Christ’s faithful disciples, no matter what surprises and challenges God has planned for our future.

May we wake up every morning and say to God, as Mary did on that long ago day to a terrifying angel, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

Let us pray.

Gracious God with Us, thank you for your love and mercy for imperfect people, seeking to follow you. Thank you for choosing and using ordinary people to do extraordinary things, like Mary, who acted freely when she offered herself as a servant of the Lord, embraced the call to be the mother of God, and became Your Son’s first disciple. Help us to believe and live out our faith in your everlasting presence with us and that with You, nothing is impossible. Amen.

Meditation on John 2

In Memory of Michael John Robinson

Jan. 31, 1957 – Sept. 13, 2023

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

Pastor Karen Crawford

Dec. 9, 2023

He was outgoing, friendly, funny, lighthearted. He never lost his silly, child-like sense of humor.

As we celebrate his life today, we remember his joy and love for his family.

Mike was born and raised in Babylon. He had three brothers. One was a twin named Tommy, whom he gave a kidney when they were 18 or 19 when he was ill. He graduated from North Babylon High School in 1975. He confessed to his children that he was a class clown. There are plenty of stories of him and Tommy getting in trouble for their antics. He was creative. There was that frog dissection incident in middle school. Mike and Tommy cut the frog’s head off and put it on the water fountain.

He loved to play games and was passionate about sports—especially hockey. He was a diehard Rangers fan. He enjoyed nature—being in the great outdoors. He found peace while kayaking.

After high school, he worked as a computer programmer for a bank and met his former wife, the first Linda, there. They married in 1978 at St. Margaret’s Episcopal Church in Plainview. They had three children—Jennifer, Sean, and Patty.

Mike’s outgoing personality and gifts of hospitality led him to find work as a bartender for Old Street Pub in Smithtown.

When he went home to be with the Lord in September, he was living in Mooresville, North Carolina, where he had settled with his late partner, the second Linda, Linda Mansfield, who, sadly, passed away five years ago. They had enjoyed their life together in the country—going kayaking, attending a Baptist church, and Facetiming and texting with the children and grandchildren.

The scene from the Wedding in Cana at Galilee came to mind when Mike’s daughters described his silly sense of humor, his love for people, his work as a bartender, and his gifts of hospitality.

This is the first of the signs that Jesus will do in the gospel of John that point to his identity as the Messiah, the Son of God and Savior for all people. But Jesus appears to be reluctant to do this miracle when his mother takes him aside at the wedding. She says, “They have no wine.” Meaning, “Do something!” The wedding would be a disaster—a huge embarrassment to the entire family and community—if they were to run out of wine before the celebration came to an end. Back then, wedding receptions could go on for days!

 He says, “Woman, what concern is that to me and to you? My hour has not yet come.”  In other words, “Mom, this isn’t any of our business! Not now!”

This is where the story becomes humorous. She ignores his protests and tells the servants to do whatever Jesus tells them to do. She places her trust in her firstborn son, the one of humble birth—the one she laid in a manger, a feedbox for animals—because there was no other place for her and Joseph to stay in Bethlehem, at the time of the census.

Jesus tells them to fill the purification jars with water. The stone jars are used for the ritual washing of the people of faith as they prepare themselves to come before a holy God in worship.

The servants obey. Without any fanfare, they draw some water out and take it to the man in charge of the wedding banquet; it has suddenly, mysteriously, been changed to wine. And not just any old wine. Fine wine—finer than the wine served at the beginning.

If he were attending the wedding at Cana today with Jesus, Mary, and the disciples, I can imagine Mike in the role of the person in charge of the banquet. In my mind, he is the one who tasted the water that Jesus had turned to wine and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew). The person in charge calls the bridegroom to compliment him on his choice of vintage and unusual generosity, “Everyone serves the good wine first and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.”

This passage is full of the joy of the Spirit of the day—a wedding in a peasant Jewish community in antiquity is a celebration of love, family, and faith. And it makes us laugh every time we read it—because we know that the choice wine was only water, but in a blink of an eye, became so much more with the help of the Lord—and better than the wine served before.

We laugh at Jesus’s relationship with his mom! He gives her a hard time, just like grown children often give their parents a hard time. And his mother ignores his ridiculous answer because she knows he is not going to let the wine run out at the wedding that he, his disciples, and his mother are attending! He isn’t going to let that happen—not now, not at the beginning of his ministry of healing, feeding, and proclamation of the good news of the kingdom of God that is drawing near.

We laugh with joy because this is the first of Jesus’ signs of the Kingdom where all who hunger will be filled and there will be food leftover, like the feeding of the 5,000! We laugh at the thought of wine being as plentiful as water—and as Jesus being our host at the Heavenly Banquet Table, when we join with his followers from every time and place who have come from east and west, north and south, to feast with him in glory.

We laugh as we imagine Jesus, the true host at the wedding in Cana at Galilee. After the wine is served, we can picture him laughing and dancing with the guests, without spilling the beans that the wine is merely water, after all. At least, it started out that way.

We laugh because it is the miracle of the water that becomes wedding wine that reveals the Glory of the Lord and persuades the disciples to believe in him and commit to following him–he who promises to be with us always and to fill us with his living water, so that we may never thirst again.

We laugh because we believe in the power of the Spirit to heal and transform us from ordinary to extraordinary so we might be used for God’s healing, transforming purposes, too.

As we celebrate Mike’s life today, at the same time, we are sad! We miss him and will miss him—his silliness, his childlike sense of humor and his great love for his family, especially the children and grandchildren. We remember his sadness and deep loneliness after the loss of his partner Linda from cancer and the loss of his twin brother, Tommy, last November. But he would want us to remember his love and joy—his greatest spiritual gifts—and the love and joy he is experiencing now in the Father’s house of many rooms. Mike would want us to know the joy of the heavenly banquet in everlasting life with Christ, our host. A banquet for all eternity that is open to all who come to believe, like his first disciples who saw his glory in water turned to wine at the wedding in Cana of Galilee.

Amen.

Meditation on Mark 13:24–37

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Sunday of Advent

Dec. 3, 2023

I was on my way to visit a member of my flock on Thursday, when I started thinking about time.

I was using a GPS app called WAZE on my phone. I almost always use WAZE when I go to visit folks. It supposedly guides me along the best route to travel at that time of day, responding to changing traffic patterns, moment by moment. This particular time that I was using WAZE, I was confused by the directions to a place that was just a few miles from my home. The female voice was telling me to turn on unfamiliar, side streets—residential areas and such. Maybe that’s happened to you? I started doing what my husband does sometimes—talking back to her. “Why am I turning here?” I asked, not expecting an answer.

I kept watching the time of arrival—and sure enough, it never varied more than a minute or two, despite the seemingly illogical detours. It seemed like a LONG ride, though it was less than 15 minutes—and it was after 3 on a weekday, so, of course, there was some traffic. All the detours stirred me to wonder where the voice was taking me. And if I would ever reach my destination!

Finally, I arrived at the assisted living in Lake Grove, went up a winding staircase and settled in for a nice visit. Ethel’s husband, Karl, went home to be with the Lord earlier this year. Her daughter helped her sell her home and move into The Bristal a few weeks ago.

No sooner did I arrive that we talked about… time. Years gone by—how old she was when she met Karl—16, on the day he was leaving to begin his military service. How many years she was married to Karl, how many years they lived in the house they just sold. Then, switching to present day, how many hours each day her aides stay with her because of her health challenges. How long it had been since her aide had left. What time her meals were served.

Ethel served me key lime pie and then I looked at my watch. It was almost 5 o’clock! I had been there 90 minutes! It was nearly time for her dinner. It was time for me to go. I never told her that I planned on visiting 3 of our members that day. Something told me that Ethel needed my time. She needed me.

Driving home after 5 p.m., I had an inexplicable peace despite the rush hour traffic and the crazy stuff some of the drivers were doing on the road. Don’t they do crazy stuff? That afternoon, I had been transported to the eternal realm with a different way of measuring time—I’ll call it, “the Kingdom of God time” or “Jesus time.”  I knew that I was doing Christ’s work—I was his heart, hands, and feet. Mostly I just listened and said a little prayer.

Of all the things that I could have spent my time doing as I prepare for a busy month of ministry in this sometimes hectic season, I knew that I had done what the Lord wanted me to do. I had been faithful with two of the most valuable things that each of us possesses—and that’s the gift of ourselves, our presence with someone in need, and our time.

Time and how we spend it in this earthly realm to get ready for the Kingdom of God that is both present and coming is what our passage in Mark is all about it. Jesus is speaking with his disciples on the Mount of Olives opposite the Temple—warning them of things to come.

He says, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” Peter, James, and John ask him privately when these things will happen.

Jesus speaks of those who will come and try to lead the disciples astray. They will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but they shouldn’t be afraid. Nation will rise against nation. Kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes and famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs. And the disciples will suffer and be persecuted because of their following him. False messiahs and false prophets will appear and try to lead people astray.

Then, today’s passage, after the suffering, they will see surprising changes in the natural world that will also be signs that Jesus will soon return in power and glory to gather his chosen ones, his “elect from the four winds.”  For, you see, before we choose to follow the Lord, the Lord has ALREADY chosen us! The lesson of the fig tree is that like the tree whose branches will become tender and put forth leaves when summer is near, when we see these changes taking place in the world, we will know that Christ is near, “at the very gates.”

But still—the time when Christ will come—the day or hour—we won’t know. No one knows! Not the Son. Not the angels. Only the Father, who knows all and holds all things in God’s capable hands.

We are urged to keep awake, keep alert to all the signs in our world and in our day-to-day existence—and keep on doing the work that each of us have been charged with doing. Don’t waste a minute of your time in worry, fear, or discouragement. Stay focused on your ministry and the Lord who has called you to it. Each of us have our own ministries, as well as the shared ministry of this congregation. Sometimes, we won’t understand the road that we are traveling. We won’t always know where we are going—our destination—and we won’t anticipate all the detours that the Holy One will lead us to take. Oh, we think that we know where we are going—and why. But God has mysterious plans that, like Christ’s return, we don’t know and won’t ever know, until He comes again.

Every day, we must be alert to the Spirit’s directions for our lives, even when we don’t know all the reasons that we are led to do the things that we are doing. We can’t hold on too tightly to our schedule and to-do list. We have to be ready to put some of our plans aside and respond to God’s GPS. Rushing around, going here and there, trying to please everyone and make the “perfect Christmas” but forgetting the reason for the season can lead us to run out of time and energy to do the things that matter. It can lead to us being “asleep” or unaware of what is happening, not just in the earthly realm but in the heavenly, eternal realm. We can miss the divine signs that point to our Savior’s return in glory and in power.

What are the things that matter to the Lord? Finding time to be still and know the Lord is our God and be filled with Christ’s peace. The Lord wants to give us Christ’s peace. And the Lord wants us spending time with the people whom God so loves and we are called to love—such as our families and the widows and widowers in our church family, some who may be spending their first Christmas without their loved one beside them.

This is our work—our work of loving service. When we give of ourselves and our time to be a blessing to someone who needs us. This is what we want the Master to catch us doing when he returns from his journey. It could be this evening, at midnight, cockcrow, or dawn. We don’t know! Keep awake, Jesus says. Keep awake!  And, as he says in Revelation, “Yes, I am coming soon!”

In a few moments, we will be transported to eternal time and experience a foretaste of the heavenly banquet—when Christ’s followers come from east and west and north and south—from all the four winds—to sit at table in the Kingdom of God. When we eat of the Bread from Heaven and drink of the Cup of Salvation, we will commune with the Risen and Glorified Christ and one another and be made one with all his followers—in this room and in every time and place.

Our eyes will be opened to signs previously unseen. We will recognize Christ’s everlasting presence with us and remember his unconditional love and grace for us. We will be nourished in faith, hope, and love and be strengthened to go and be Christ’s heart, hands, and feet—His WHOLE Body—for the world.

Through acts of kindness, we will preach the comforting words of Jesus to his disciples of every age, “Keep awake. Keep awake! Yes, I am coming soon!”

Let us pray.

Holy One, thank you for the promises in your Word and for reminding us to keep awake and alert to the signs of Your Son’s return in power and glory for us, your Church. Some of those things that Christ warned his disciples about—wars and rumors of wars, earthquakes and famines—are happening. It seems that the birth pangs have begun. Prepare our hearts and minds for when the Son comes, for we do not know when it will be. Guide us in your sometimes surprising will. Strengthen us to keep watching, walking, working, and waiting patiently for the Master and the Kingdom and not get distracted by the busy-ness of the season and all the things we want to do. Help us to always feel your everlasting presence and peace. Stir us to deeds of kindness that reveal your unconditional love and grace to those in need and preach the comforting words to all Christ’s followers, “Keep awake. Keep awake. Yes, I am coming soon!” Amen.

Meditation on Colossians 3:12-17

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

Nov. 19, 2023

I had the joy of presiding over an outdoor wedding in Sayville on Friday. More than 200 people came. The bridal party included 8 women and 8 men, plus children: an 8-year-old ringbearer named Anthony; two flower boys- 4-year-old Oliver pulling a wagon carrying 9-month-old Lukas; and babe of honor Ariya; the tiny daughter of the bride and groom wore a long, white gown.

The wedding garb was elegant, exquisite down to the tiniest detail. It was perfect except for the part about it being a cool, breezy fall day. Women in strapless and short-sleeved gowns shivered in the cold.

I had this feminine moment when I felt plain, in the presence of the wedding party’s finery. I felt different. And I was. Knowing that I would be presiding over an outdoor wedding in the late afternoon on a cool fall day, I wore a long-sleeved blouse, black sweater, slacks, long socks, and black ankle boots. Then, I pulled on my long, white alb and stole—on top of all the other clothes.

But that moment of discomfort passed.  I felt comfortable in my different-ness, as I usually do. I knew my role in the wedding. My particular calling was needed that day.

So much more has changed in me than the clothes that I wear, since being ordained to ministry. And I am so grateful to God for this calling. So grateful that the Lord has chosen me. Words cannot express my gratitude! I get to walk beside people in some of the most important moments of their lives. I am honored to be the one to offer Christ’s peace and spiritual comfort to those in need.

More important to Christ’s followers than our choice of clothing to wear to a wedding is the decision about what we choose to wear as our spiritual clothing every day. While Paul uses the metaphor in Ephesians of putting on the full armor of God to fight spiritual battles, the writer of Colossians uses the language of clothing ourselves with a closet of holy garments that are beautiful gifts of the Spirit. This closet is open and accessible to everyone. These holy garments are free to us, but they must be desired, requested, and received. They were bought for us with a price—our Savior’s own sacrifice.

.Not only do we wear the gifts of the Spirit, our first clothing as the redeemed of God is the clothing of Christ himself. Clothed in Christ, we are God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved.  Then we choose to put on Christ’s “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.” All of these empower us to do what we aren’t able to do in our own strength, including forgiving one another. Colossians says, “Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.”

Earlier in this letter, the writer urges new and longtime believers of the first century, some who may be falling back into the old, unregenerated ways when they are encountering hard times and suffering, that they are living in a new situation, which calls for new thinking and a new way of being.

 “So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on the things that are above, not on the things that are on earth, for you have died (the you you used to be), and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.”

The writer goes on,“These are the ways you also once followed, when you were living that life. But now you must get rid of all such things: anger, wrath, malice, slander, ..abusive language…. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have stripped off the old self with its practices and have clothed yourselves with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator.”

The most important spiritual garment? We are called to put on LOVE, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. Only then are we able to allow the peace of Christ to rule in our hearts, a peace that makes us One in Christ’s Body.

The next teaching seems to be as important as everything else we are called to wear, although you might think the phrase is almost an afterthought because of its position in the passage. But something at the end of a sentence or passage is placed there for a reason– so it will stand out. The other ideas lead to this one instruction: “And be thankful.”

Notice, gratitude isn’t something we wear. It’s something we become. Something we ARE. We ARE grateful when we allow Christ to reign in our hearts and over our lives. When we let go of the control that we think we have or that we want to have. When we allow Christ to lead us on this journey of faith—or it’s not really a journey of faith. We’re just taking a walk. And while we journey with Christ and each other, we give him thanks and praise for the things that God is doing in and through us. We are doing things we never thought we could be doing.

Gratitude comes from a kind of revelation that every good gift, as James tells us, every good thing in our lives comes from God above. Gratitude is something that we hold in our hearts; it’s an essential part of our new identities. Gratitude and joy strengthen us to walk and keep on walking the right path every day.

When I let go of gratitude—maybe this happens to you, too–it leads to all kinds of awful feelings and thoughts and sometimes bad choices. It slows me down. When I let go of being grateful, I open the door to so many sins in my heart and in my life. If I stop being grateful, then discontentment, dissatisfaction, anger, and resentment have an easier way in. Once they come in, they are not easily removed; and they bring a kind of misery. Gratitude protects our hearts from all sorts of misery that is the fruit of ingratitude.

Today, the nominating committee is meeting after worship to ask the Lord whom God is calling to serve our church family as spiritual leaders: elders, deacons, and trustees. My job is to encourage the committee in their work of discernment.

I want to share this with you. The one thing that everyone who says yes seems to have in common isn’t that they are less busy. Everyone who serves IS busy. And those who say yes aren’t necessary more experienced or more confident of their gifts.  

How do we know when God is calling us? The reality is that God is calling ALL of us to serve; the question is, “To what particular ministry is the Lord calling us?”

These are some things that I believe are needed when discerning a calling to a particular ministry. First, it takes trusting that the Lord is in the calling—that it IS a calling that has come from God and that God and your brothers and sisters in Christ will be there with you, till the end.  And we will.  

Also, you have to want to serve the Lord by serving the Church in whatever the Lord is calling you to do. Sometimes the Lord has to help change our hearts and minds, when we don’t really feel like doing the work—or we are fearful of the work that God is calling us to do. Don’t raise your hands, I don’t want to embarrass people, but has anyone ever asked you to do something and your immediate response is, “No, I don’t want to do that!!” Remember Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

Finally, those who say yes have at the root of their decision a grateful heart. They are grateful for what the Lord has done—for every good gift they have ever received from a good and gracious God. Gratitude leads us to say YES to what God asks us to do, even if we are a little nervous about what serving as a spiritual leader will mean for our lives.

The groom was anxious at the wedding in Sayville on Friday. The service was about to start; the guests were all in their seats. I had to go look for the groom. When I found him, I said, “Hey, C’mon, let’s go get married. Come with me.”

In a few moments, his life would not be the same—nor would he.  Just before the bride and her father began to walk down the aisle toward us, the groom looked down at me and said that he was glad that I was there, that I was doing the wedding. I knew, at that moment, the Lord had this planned all along—that I would be there when the couple needed me, needed Christ’s peace. When the groom said, “Thank you,” I knew he meant it with all his heart.

Dear friends, you and I—we are God’s chosen— holy and beloved. God chose us; now we choose to wear our spiritual clothing every day so we can serve the Kingdom. We don’t wake up fully dressed, do we? We take from the spiritual closet the garments of “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.”

Forgive one another. Don’t let unforgiveness ruin your spiritual life.

Put on Jesus Christ; clothe yourselves with his Love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.  

Let his peace rule in your hearts.

And be thankful.

Let us pray.

Holy One, thank you for choosing us to walk beside your children in some of the most important moments of their lives. Thank you for trusting us with your work. Help us to trust you—that the callings that each of us have as your holy and beloved are truly from You. And that you and our brothers and sisters in Christ will always be with us—till the end. Thank you for the closet of spiritual garments open to us every day, from the moment we awake and give you glory and praise. Clothe us with your compassion, dear Lord, with your kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Help us to forgive as you have so graciously forgiven us. Clothe us with your love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. Grant us your peace. Help us to be truly thankful for all you have done—for every good gift you have given us from above. In the name of your Son we pray. Amen.

Meditation on Matthew 25:1–13

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

Nov. 12, 2023

Our Confirmation class went to worship for Shabbat at Temple Isaiah in Stony Brook on Friday night. Jim and I arrived early. We were met at the door by security guards who asked us why we had come. The guards were a reminder of the fear experienced by our Jewish neighbors, friends, and family, for some of us.

    Rabbi Emeritus Stephen Karol—who had come with his wife, Donna, to visit our Confirmation class and share their faith in September—arrived soon after we did. He warmly welcomed us. He gave our group an orientation so that we would feel more comfortable.

    He led us into a beautiful, modern sanctuary. Their congregation is young compared to ours, he laughed. The congregation in Stony Brook was organized in 1967. They were one of the lucky ones to receive a Torah scroll that survived the Holocaust. It is wrapped in colorful fabric, quilted with a bright sun in the sky, a flame next to the Tree of Life, firmly rooted in the earth. The Tree is untouched by the flame and is in the shape of a hand, reaching toward the sun. It’s a symbol of hope and life for the future, Rabbi Stephen said. The Temple’s three Torah scrolls are kept in an ark decorated with two brightly lit candles and the familiar blue and white prayer shawl, worn by rabbis and cantors.

    Copies of the Torah, in Hebrew with English translation, are kept in pew racks alongside a prayer book called a Siddur. The Rabbi calls out the prayer book page numbers throughout the service. We turn pages right to left, beginning at what we might think is the back of the book. Prayers are sung with piano music. We were in awe of the singing of the new rabbi, Joshua Gray and his wife, who serves as cantor.  The two met while working on Broadway.

     Our host invited us to sit in the back row—not because we were strangers and Gentiles—but so that we could have a good view of everything that was happening during the service.

    “No problem!” I said. “Presbyterians love to sit in the back row.”

    He pointed out red lights next to plaques on the walls, highlighting the names of people whose anniversary of their passing is this month. Their names were read during the service, as were the names of people who need healing. He showed us the basket of percussion instruments at the entrance. Only children used to be invited to use the percussion instruments, but then adults wanted to play tambourines, maracas, and rhythm sticks, too. Now the percussion instruments are open to all. People clap their hands, play instruments, and move their bodies while they sing and pray. They bow at specific times.

    Everyone we encountered greeted us, “Shabbat Shalom.” Shabbat is the Hebrew word for “rest” and has come to be the Jewish word for Sabbath. “Shabbat Shalom” means “peaceful rest” or “peaceful Sabbath.”

    On Friday night—the day after we marked the anniversary of Kristallnacht with our service of remembrance, healing and prayer—Rabbi Stephen told us that we worship the same God. Christianity has its roots in Judaism. Our Bibles begin with the same five books of the Torah. We are all family, he said.

   Rabbi Joshua’s message from Genesis followed the same theme as Rabbi Stephen’s welcome and orientation. Joshua told the story of Isaac and Ishmael’s peaceful reunion after years of separation, when their father dies. They come together to bury him in the cave of Machpelah.

     Ishmael, whose mother was a slave named Hagar, had been cast out of the family when he was 13, not long after Isaac’s birth. Mother and son had been left to die in the desert. But an angel of the Lord heard their cries and rescued them. The Lord promised that Ishmael would raise up a great nation of his own. God keeps God’s promises. The outcast and the favorite, younger son, were enemies before Abraham dies. But at the loss of their father, their shared grief is a reminder to them that they have been family all along. They are enemies no more.

    Just because Israel is at war, Rabbi Joshua said, there’s no reason for Jewish people, descendants of Isaac, to hate the descendants of Ishmael. They share a common ancestor—Abraham. They are the same family, he said. We look forward to the day that Isaiah foretold, when the nations “shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.”

    The most moving aspect of the worship for me was during a Hebrew song called the “Lekha Dodi,” when everyone stands and turns to face the door and welcome Shabbat as if she is a beloved bride. “Come out my Beloved, the Bride to meet,” the song begins in English. “The inner light of Shabbat, let us greet.”

   Joy filled the room. I was reminded, then, that the Sabbath is more than just a commandment, a day God set aside to refrain from all work when our Creator was finished creating. This is God’s gift of Sabbath rest and peace, foreshadowing the wedding banquet of the Messiah, when the Sabbath won’t just be one day a week; it will be ours to enjoy with God and one another for all eternity.

    Our reading in Matthew 25, the parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids or young women, moves us closer to the season of Advent—and connects with the message and prayers of the worship on Friday for Shabbat. The Spirit is speaking to all the people of God! It’s no coincidence that this parable would be the story that we share today, on the weekend that we welcomed, with Temple Isaiah and synagogues across the country, the Shabbat bride, a metaphor for the time of redemption. When the Messiah will come, and everyone will live in peace and rest forever.

This is what Jesus meant when he shared this parable. He was Jewish, after all, as was his first audience hearing his teaching. Everyone knew that he was talking about the day of redemption: who would be ready to meet the Messiah; who would not. Who would have oil to light their lanterns and join the Bridegroom in the eternal wedding banquet. And who would not.

Studying this passage this week, I felt a little sorry for the bridesmaids who didn’t have oil to keep their lamps burning. They plead with the ones who have oil in their flasks, “Give us some of your oil.” I wondered, “Why didn’t the wise bridesmaids share their oil with the foolish ones?”

A closer look reveals how the wise young women would need every drop of the oil they had for their own lamps. This is an oil that must be acquired from one Source, the Source of all life. It isn’t that those who lacked oil to keep their lamps burning didn’t care if the Bridegroom came or not. They all wanted to be with the Bridegroom and light his way to go to the heavenly wedding banquet. This wasn’t a case of not longing for his return. They had just grown weary of waiting.  They fell asleep without checking their supply of oil, thinking they had more time. They had given up hope that he would come that night. Maybe they had begun to wonder if he would ever come to lead them to their heavenly banquet.

So now, you are wondering, “How do I know that I have enough oil for my lamp? When am I ready to meet the Lord?”

When we read this passage alongside the passage in Joshua, it becomes clear. The oil in the lamp, the being ready for the Bridegroom’s return, isn’t just one decision to serve the Lord. That’s only the beginning of the covenant between God and Israel. God would be their God, and they would be God’s people, turning away from the idols they formerly embraced. But it would be a daily inner battle that required a growing faith and time for spiritual maturity.

Some of us made the choice to follow the Lord years ago. That was the beginning. Now we know that we have to keep on making good choices, the right choices, every day so that we keep the promises we made with God. And bring life and healing to ourselves and help heal and make whole our broken and hurting world.

We know when we are in a good spiritual place. We know when we have peace with God and one another and experience a foretaste of Shabbat Shalom, a holy rest and feast at the heavenly wedding banquet.

The Sabbath is not just a commandment, dear friends; it’s a gift from your God of love. Someday, this will be ours to enjoy for all eternity!

May we remember that every human being is a child of God. Like Ishmael and Isaac, we share the same Father. We are all family to the Lord, called to love one another.

We know when we are struggling and need help from a faithful friend. Look around you! This room is full of your faithful friends—and there are others whom God has placed in your life for a reason. Don’t be afraid to ask for help!

We know when we are weary and discouraged, losing confidence along the journey, making choices that aren’t good for us or helpful for other people.  We know when we are beginning to slip, lose ground, lose our way. When we begin to wonder, like the foolish bridesmaids, if the Bridegroom who has delayed so long in coming will ever come in our lifetime on earth.

And that’s when we need to keep awake and heed the advice of that wonderful African American spiritual, “Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning”:

Keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning,

keep your lamps trimmed and burning, for the time is drawing nigh.

Sisters, don’t grow weary;

brothers, don’t grow weary,

children, don’t grow weary, for the time is drawing nigh.

Holy One, thank you for giving us your Word, so that we may be inspired to make the promise with you that Joshua made long ago: “As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.” Thank you for the opportunity to worship with our Jewish friends and neighbors at Temple Isaiah. Please, dear Lord, watch over them and keep them safe. Guide us in all the choices we make. Give us wisdom and strength to serve you every day. Keep us awake and alert to the signs of your presence in the world and your Son’s Second Coming. Help us to keep the Sabbath, your loving gift to us. Stir us to keep on praying with hope for the day of redemption and the end to all wars. May we never grow weary. For the time is drawing nigh. Amen.

Connecting the Faithful of First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

Pastor Karen Crawford

Meditation on  1 John 3:1–3

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

Nov. 5, 2023

All Saints Sunday

I remember having a meal with my father. We were at a restaurant in Maryland. I had a cheese omelet and a bagel, though it was dinner, not breakfast. I was living in the Baltimore area and going to university, studying to be a teacher.

It was the fall of 1985. I was taking an American Studies class. We were asked to write our family histories, going back three generations or more. We had to place ourselves in the family story, see patterns, and make connections. I was only 19 at the time—just beginning my adult life. We were asked to interview members of our families—and encourage them to share personal stories.

Why is it that I can remember what I ate—but I can’t recall the stories Dad shared with me that night? I do think if I listen really hard I can still hear his voice and see his mannerisms as he spoke. I can hear his laugh. He often had a far-off look—and he would answer some of my questions with a pause, then “I don’t know.”

At the end of the meal, something had changed in my father. The normally shy, reserved man had a determined look on his face when we stood up and hugged goodbye. He was going to research our family history and get me the answers that I sought. He would leave no stone unturned until he knew the names, dates, places, and as many details as possible of the lives of the people who came before us. These people made decisions about who they would marry, how they would raise their kids, what they would do for a living and where they would live, even many of them embracing a new country—America!—and new cities, such as New York, Pleasantville, Baltimore, and Washington, D.C., and leaving old countries behind: Norway. Hungary. Latvia. Poland.

Our passage in First John is about family. The family of God is like a biological family. God is Father and Jesus is Son. The followers of Christ are “little children.” I lost count of how many times John uses the word “children” and “little children” and “children of God” in John’s letters.

The John who wrote this is called, “John the Evangelist.” He writes in the style of John the Apostle, who wrote the gospel of John. We find similar words, phrases, and ideas. John the Evangelist starts the first letter, “We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life—this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it..”

The gospel of John starts, “ In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.”

The tone of John’s letters is intimate and affectionate, as if the writer is speaking to an audience he knows well and cares for, yet no specific church is identified. Scholars believe the letter was written in Ephesus, on the western shore of modern-day Turkey, between 95 and 110 A.D. He wrote for Christians who probably never met Jesus in the flesh.

He writes for all Christ’s followers, in every time and place. He writes to reveal the love and grace of God and encourage us to live in love and grace, as if we are a new family, a family tree connected by faith and a desire to follow Christ with our lives.

He shares the hope of salvation to stir the church to grow in faith, faithfulness, and boldness, because Christ didn’t come to save a small, exclusive group of people. He says in 1 John 5:13, “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, so that you may know that you have eternal life.” And, “My little children,” he says in 1 John 2:1, “I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous, and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.”

This reminds me of John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that He gave his one and only Son, so that whoever believes on Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.”

John the Evangelist is concerned that the church may be led astray by false teachers, whom he calls antichrists. The most important identifier of God’s children? LOVE. Love that is God’s gift to us, as we hear in today’s passage. Later in the letter, we learn that we are able to love at all because of God, who IS love. And, “We love because he first loved us” (1 John 4:19).

Love for the children of God isn’t merely affectionate speech. It is revealed through our giving. “How does God’s love abide in anyone,” he asks in 1 John 3:17 and 18, “who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses to help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.”

A church that lacks love is not following Christ. Love is essential; it is the main ingredient for our life in Christ together. “Whoever does not love abides in death,” he says in chapter 3. And, “…We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another.”

On All Saints Day, we look back to remember, honor, and be inspired by all the saints—all our loved ones—who gave of themselves so that we could become the people we are today. We give thanks for all that we learned from the example of the generations before us—the Great Cloud Witnesses that are still with us, though we can’t see or hear them cheering us on, urging us to continue to run the race of faith in the years to come.

 I don’t know about you, but I always feel emotional on All Saints Day. I feel sad for those who aren’t with us. Especially when we are lighting candles for them. But most of all, I feel overcome with gratitude for knowing and loving them.

What a tremendous gift it was to have the father that I had! A father who would eat a meal with me, then spend the next 3 decades intensely researching our family history, going back generations for both sides of our family. His research would lead to my parents traveling the world to see the places where their ancestors had lived and meet family members they had never met. My mom stays in touch with some of them.

Dad continued to update our family histories up until the last year of his life with us, when Parkinson’s interfered. He went home to be with God in August 2019.

And yes, he found the information I needed in time for the American Studies class in fall 1985.  That’s when I discovered that I came from a long line of strong women, who made choices that were sometimes different from their parents’ choices. While my grandmothers didn’t have the opportunity or encouragement to go to college, they never stopped growing and learning, adapting and redefining themselves. They liked to read. They were creative. They had opinions about things. Family was always important. They embraced life, though they lived through wars and economic struggles, such as the Great Depression. They overcame difficulties and losses.

They loved deeply. And they held onto their faith.

As I look around the room today, I see a gathering of saints! You are God’s children now! You abide in God and God’s love abides in you!

I encourage you to share your stories with your biological families and your brothers and sisters in the faith today. Don’t wait! Don’t put it off! Don’t be so busy with activities and chores that you neglect to share the stories of all the saints.

Keep on sharing your stories with the next generation because this moment, today, will never happen again. Everything can change in an instant. Keep on sharing your love—for that is the most important thing for the children of God.

The Spirit is still working in us. If you get discouraged with yourself and can’t see your own progress on your journey of faith, hold onto the promise in today’s passage in First John—that “what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is.”

I wish I could remember all of Dad’s stories of that day and so many days that followed the meal that started his passion for genealogy. I don’t know why I remember the cheese omelet and the bagel. I think he was wearing a red sweater vest that he wore when the weather grew colder. I know he was wearing a hat. He always wore a hat.

If only I could hear his voice, once again, and see all his mannerisms, the expressions on his face, the way he hesitated before answering a question. The way he wasn’t afraid to say, “I don’t know.” And his look of sheer determination that he would not leave a stone unturned until he knew the names, dates, places, and as many details as possible of the lives of the people who came before us. Those who helped to make us who we are today.

I remember my father’s love.

Will you pray with me? Let us pray.

Holy God, Heavenly Parent, thank you for your loving us first and your gift of love to your Church. Help us to be more faithful to reveal your love and grace to the world, for your salvation is for all people.  Thank you for the example of all the saints—our loved ones who have gone before us and helped to make us who we are today. Keep us on the right paths, dear Lord. Slow us down if we are moving too fast. Keep us from being so busy that we don’t take time to share and be inspired by the stories of all the saints. Help us to honor them and give thanks to you for the gift of their lives, their love, and their faith. In Christ we pray. Amen.

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY