Sharing God's Love and Grace

Connecting the Faithful

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

Connecting the Faithful

Pastor Karen Crawford

Connecting the Faithful

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

Connecting the Faithful

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

Pastor Karen Crawford

Reflection on John 14

In Memory of Richard Engel

October 3, 1941–November 29, 2022

Pastor Karen Crawford

Dec. 1, 2022

I met Richard at a party.

I guess that’s a funny way for a pastor to begin a funeral meditation, but Richard had a great sense of humor, and I know he wouldn’t mind my starting that way.

You know how parties often end up in the kitchen, even though the host is trying to get everyone out of the kitchen so they can prepare and serve the food?

Well, the party was the end of the choir year shindig. The choir director and members of the bell and voice choirs had come with their significant others, as well as the pastor. It was outdoors on a Long Island spring evening. Yes, you guessed it. As the evening went on, the wind started to whip up. Before too long, it was cold. And I am wearing summer clothes because it had been hot earlier in the day.

Richard and I and a few others came inside to get warm. Into an increasingly crowded kitchen. We sat at a little table together, eating chips and other delicious appetizers. We talked and laughed. About what, I don’t recall. At the end of the evening, I felt like I had gotten to know him, and I wanted to know him more, especially because I knew he was Trudy’s beloved husband! And that he was struggling with a serious illness. He came to the party anyway that night because he didn’t want to let Trudy down. He didn’t want to give in to the illness, which drained him of his strength. He came to the choir party because he loved the people Trudy loved. He wanted to show his support for her church involvement.

Trudy and Richard had met on a blind date when she was 14. They went to Bar Beach in Nassau County with another couple. They had a second date. And that was it. They were smitten. They married on Sept. 1, 1962, at Community Congregational Church in New Hyde Park.

Trudy told me that Richard had been a cop. She said it proudly. He had also worked as a draftsman, and for a greenhouse, and had delivered newspapers. He was a hard worker! Dedicated. Community minded.

He was also a musician—playing flute in parades and playing the accordion when he was a child at Carnegie Hall.

He joined the police department and went to the police academy in 1967 on the advice of a friend, a fellow draftsman, who was also applying to serve as a police officer. Richard wanted to provide for his family, and he wanted to help people. He cared about people. He joined on July 13, which is meaningful to the family now because it was the birthday of their granddaughter who passed away suddenly, tragically, at age 29. He retired on their daughter, Debbie’s birthday– June 2, 1992, after 25 years on the Force. He worked in the 2^nd Precinct, the 4^th Precinct, and the Marine Bureau. He took many courses with the Marine Bureau.

But he wasn’t a stereotypical cop portrayed on TV crime dramas.  He was a family man. He was a good provider, not just financially; he was emotionally supportive. He was a good listener.  He was there for his wife and kids—and he was there for his grandkids. He enjoyed being a chauffeur for the grandchildren’s sports’ activities. He was humble, patient, loyal, honest, forgiving—but he could be stubborn.

He was funny. He had a way of telling stories and you would believe his stories, though they weren’t true. Not a word.

His sense of humor strengthened him through the hard times. He joked around with the medical professionals. He introduced Trudy to all the medical people as his bride. “My Bride,” became Trudy’s nickname, she said, though they had been married 60 years.

He was proud of her.

He took time to care for his own health—so that he could be there for his family. He hated not being able to be active. He hated being tired, he told me that night at the party. Up until the beginning of last month, he went swimming 3 times a week at LA Fitness.

He battled his illnesses bravely. He persevered, in spite of the many hospitalizations and treatments—good news and hopeful progress, then disappointments and more struggle.

When medical treatments were failing, and it was time for Richard to begin the journey home to the Lord, he wanted to leave the hospital and go home to his family. Trudy and her son and daughter went home and prepared a place for him, moving furniture out to make room for a rented hospital bed. All the details were important, down to having the right size sheets to fit the bed.

They knew he would only have a few days more with them, at most. They wanted him to be comfortable, happy, peaceful, not in pain—and they wanted to be with him, to make sure that all his needs were met—not just to care for his body, but to give him emotional support, like he had always given them when they needed it. They didn’t have a few days. His home was only a brief stop on his way to heaven.

And this is what I think it means when Jesus tells his disciples that he is going to prepare a place for them—for all of us. He is concerned for all the details—for all our needs. And he isn’t going to leave us alone—not in this world, not in the world to come. We don’t have to wonder the way to get there or how it will happen, though Jesus doesn’t mind the questions. He encourages thoughtful questions. Look how he patiently answers Thomas, who just can’t get his head around Jesus’s news to them – that he is going home to be with God, that he is going to die.

We don’t have to worry. “Let not your hearts be troubled,” he says, more than once, to his faithful followers. All you have to do is BELIEVE and let your BELIEVING guide your life. Believe in God. Believe in the Son and the promise of everlasting life. If you know Jesus, he said, you have seen the Father! God is love.

Christ is going to return to us and take us home with him, so that where he is, we may be, also. His preparing a place for us required that he suffer and die for us—but he did it willingly, obediently, knowing it was all part of the Father’s plan.

The place where we are going is mysterious to us now. We can’t imagine it, not really, our life when we are living with new, resurrected bodies with Christ. Most of the time, we aren’t thinking about God and Jesus and the world to come. We are worrying about all the problems of today and responding to them, thinking how we can help support and provide for our loved ones in every way.

There’s something so much more than our day- to-day experiences. When we believe, we can see the Kingdom of God through glimpses in this world that the Lord allows us to see, moments that are kind of like a lifting of a veil. Maybe you have experienced these God moments—just when you needed one.

There was a moment like that for Trudy, not long ago—during one of his recent hospitalizations. He suddenly turned to Trudy, his bride of 60 years, and from his hospital bed asked, “Will you marry me?”

She said, “Of course!”

He would be pleased to know that today, hearing his story, some of us will vow to spend more time with our loved ones, take care of our health and well-being so that we can care for others, and to not take ourselves too seriously.

He would be happy to hear us laughing, telling stories, and sharing food. He would be glad that his passing has stirred a coming together of family and a wide circle of his friends, many of whom don’t know each other well.  He would be pleased to hear the stories about him, even if they aren’t all completely true, as long as they are funny. He would be glad to know how he touched our lives in powerful ways and will be remembered with joy and love.

When you think about it, laughter is the opposite of what Jesus tells his disciples not to do—when he says, “Don’t worry. Let not your hearts be troubled.” When you are laughing, you aren’t worried. You aren’t anxious.

Laughter is a sign of a spiritual gift from the Lord, with us now in Spirit, as he promised. Friends, let us remember that gift—and that the joy of the Lord is our strength!

Jesus says we know the way to our heavenly home, though we might have many questions, like Thomas. Christ assures us that he is the way– believing in his work for our sakes, reaching out to him in prayer, seeking to follow in his footsteps. But it struck me this time reading this familiar, beautiful gospel passage. He is also the actual mode of transportation, much like Richard enjoyed being the chauffeur for his grandchildren.

 “For I will come again,” he says, “and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.”

Believe, dear friends. Live in love, as Christ calls us to do. Live in peace, a gift from the Lord meant to be shared.

 “Peace I leave with you,” he says. “My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

Amen.

Meditation on Matthew 24:36-44

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Sunday of Advent

Nov. 27, 2022

My husband, Jim, and I traveled to see our family in Cambridge, Mass, on Thanksgiving. Did anyone else go out of town for Thanksgiving? Did any of you have family or friends from out of town visiting you? This was the first time we have been able to gather on Thanksgiving with our two granddaughters, 5 and 8, and their parents.

While many good memories were made on our trip, two things stand out to me as being especially good. One was when Grandpa Jim, who is usually very serious and extremely competitive, let 5-year-old Maddie beat him at chess. She was so proud to have “won”!

The other remarkable thing that happened was on the ferry ride back from New London. We were traveling with our toy poodle, Minnie, so we were sitting in a special area for people with pets and people who like pets and want to be near them. We had dogs of all sorts around us. At times, it sounded like a scene from the movie, 101 Dalmatians, when the puppies are stolen, and Pongo alerts the neighborhood dogs through the Twilight Bark.

A young couple with 4 or 5 children sat in a booth diagonal to us. The youngest was a girl of about 18 months. The others were boys. She was showing signs of fatigue right from the beginning of the one hour, 20-minute-long ferry ride. About 40 minutes into the journey, she started to cry inconsolably. Nothing the parents could do could calm her down.

One by one, the people in our pet section started to leave, until there were just a few of us left.

I sat there wishing there was something I could do to help, but I knew there wasn’t. Suddenly, a woman with a black lab came over to their table. Jim and I had ridden the elevator with the woman and her dog. The dog was old and could no longer walk up or down stairs. We could see large lumps on the dog’s back and neck.

The woman asked the little sobbing girl if she wanted to see her dog do some tricks. Although she was an old dog, she said, she was a smart dog and could still do tricks.

The crying stopped immediately. A hush fell over the room.

The woman bent over her dog and gave commands. The dog raised her paw to shake hands, she lay down, rolled over and “played dead.” Then the woman asked the little girl what else would she like the dog to do?

The little girl giggled, and yelled, “Sit!”

“Of course,” said the woman. “Sit,” she told the dog, and the dog who was too old to walk up and down stairs on the ferry sat—and brought joy and peace to a little girl and to all of us watching.

Maybe it was 10 minutes. That’s all the time it took from the woman’s journey. She didn’t have to come and visit the little girl and her family. But she did it, anyway—with the ease of someone who probably has done it many times before, perhaps for schools, hospitals, and nursing homes.

She said goodbye and walked away, smiling.

The girl waved and said, “Bye bye, dog! Bye bye!”

And the mother turned to Jim and me and said, “Thank you. Thank you for staying.”

In my mind, we hadn’t done a thing. Then I realized the Spirit had led us to stay—when others left to escape the crying child—and by staying, to be kind, a witness to the kindness of the Lord who says in Revelation 22:20, “Yes, I am coming soon.”

 The One for whom we are waiting in hope and prayer,

 “Amen! Come, Lord Jesus!”

***

To help prepare us for Christ’s promised return, our reading in Matthew provides images from our Lord’s daily life and from the Scriptures Jesus learned from childhood. He compares his coming to a thief in the night and to the flood of Noah—a story that everyone in his faith community would know, just as most everyone knows the story today. We can imagine how those who didn’t know the flood was coming or believe in Noah’s God were doing ordinary things—eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage. We can picture how it will be for us, when Jesus comes again, and we are working at jobs, some not so unlike the workers in the fields of Christ’s time and others preparing food for their families, like the women “grinding meal.”  

I admit, the image of two in the field, “one will be taken, and one will be left” is unsettling. Is that unsettling for you? This phrase is repeated for emphasis in verse 41, “Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken, and one will be left.”

Honestly? I think it’s supposed to be unsettling. God’s word is meant to challenge and convict us, when we get too comfortable with our routine, our faith, and circle of friends and family. We can take for granted our salvation and forget about our neighbors who may not know the Lord. This passage helps us remember who we are, because of the gift of Jesus Christ.  It reminds us that while we are waiting—not just for Christmas and the celebration of Christ’s birth, but in anticipation of our Savior’s return—we have work Christ himself has called us to do—sowing seeds; discipling the nations; nurturing faith in our children and youth; loving our neighbors; forgiving those who hurt us; feeding the hungry; gathering for worship, study, and prayer; healing and caring for the earth; and more.

When I read this passage about one being taken and one left, while the people are doing ordinary things, I can’t help but read it, also, through the lens of what is happening in our country. It is hard to hear about the violent acts committed against innocent people gathering in public places. And maybe it feels more terrible because of its seemingly randomness—lives taken, while other lives are left to grieve and try to heal from the trauma.

But let the grief stir us not to lash out in anger or to live in fear or to remain quiet and passive when the Lord stirs us to speak and act. My prayer is that our grief will help us to be more kind and seek understanding, wisdom, and reconciliation. For this is what Christ would want us to do—and we want the Lord to find us at our best, being faithful! As we wait and work in hope for peace, anticipating when all things will be made new. When Jesus comes again.

I near the end of my message today still thinking about the woman and her dog on the ferry—and the precious gift she gave that family—and to all of us who stayed.

I know what you are thinking. It isn’t going to change the world—these little acts of kindness. It won’t stop the violence, the seemingly random shootings in public places. But I promise you this: it will make a difference when we pray and respond to the Spirit’s leading and do what is right. It will change us.

When the pastor of Nanume Church invited me to share a message this afternoon, I was excited, and said yes. But then, last night, I suddenly felt nervous. I wondered if my knowing so little of the language and culture would be a barrier to my being able to connect with this congregation, share my heart, and be understood. Then, I thought, as I had when Pastor T.J. asked me, it’s the best way for me to get to know the flock. And it’s a good way for the flock to meet me and know my heart.

God reminded me that Nanume, like First Presbyterian Church, has come to hear what the Spirit is saying—and not my voice. And that, just as God needs us to stay and be present with people in need, the Lord also just needs us to be obedient and go where God desires to use us. We have to trust that when we get there, the Lord will accomplish God’s purposes.

The message is the same for all Christ’s followers. Be watchful and present, in this world, in the here and now. Don’t look back and dwell on yesterday’s flaws or missteps. Don’t worry about the future. While we are waiting in hope and working for peace, let us be ready for the One who is coming at an unexpected time, like a thief in the night.

The One who says, “Yes, I am coming soon.”

 “Amen! Come, Lord Jesus!”

Let us pray.

Holy One, we thank you for the Spirit’s message today, to both our communities of faith under this one roof. Thank you for all the people who are Your Church and this beautiful place where we are being equipped for and doing ministry together in Christ’s name. Wake us up, Lord! Stir us from spiritual sleep. Slow us down in our busy-ness, especially this time of year. Open our eyes to the needs around us and lead us in your will. Strengthen us to be ready for your Son’s return at an unexpected time. And come quickly, Lord, and make all things new. We long to see your face and for every tear to be wiped away. Fulfill your promise, “I am coming soon.” Amen.

Connecting the Faithful

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

Pastor Karen Crawford

Connecting the Faithful

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Meditation on Luke 6:20–31

All Saints’ Day

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Nov. 6, 2022

Pastor Karen Crawford

Here is the link to the live-streamed video:

https://fb.watch/gEVWgATyiF/

Jim and I attended our church’s book group on Wednesday night. Isabel led us in a discussion of a book about JP Morgan’s personal librarian, Belle da Costa Greene. The young woman’s career in 1905 is a rare occupation for women. But Belle isn’t like most women of her time. Her job is to curate a collection of rare manuscripts, books—including Gutenberg Bibles—and artwork for Morgan’s newly built library.

But she isn’t who she says she is. She lives a lie. Her name is really Belle Marion Greener. She is the daughter of Richard Greener, the first black graduate of Harvard, and a well-known advocate for equality. She’s black, passing as white.

We talked about whether she had a choice in the matter, really, since her mother is the one who orchestrated the ruse from the beginning and told Belle and her other children what to do and say. The mother is the one who reports her and Belle’s siblings’ race as white on the census and registers them as white when the children start school in New York after moving from Washington, D.C.

Belle probably worried about being caught in her lies every single day. And because of it, she never married or had children of her own. Being found out would destroy her career and reputation, and ruin the lives of her mother and siblings, who would also be outed as white. Then there’s minor detail that Belle’s family relies on her generous income as Morgan’s personal librarian.

But the lies aren’t discovered within her lifetime. Belle is famous now for amassing the collection for Morgan that is now open to the public. Her story serves as an inspiration to all women to follow their ambitions and passions, work hard and persevere, until their dreams are a reality.

Near the end of our discussion, I was asked whether I had heard of passing before, as in passing as another race, and if I could imagine the life. I hadn’t thought about it, but I suddenly thought of how my own family was quiet about being my father being Jewish in the rural and largely Christian community where I grew up. It wasn’t a secret, but it was kept private. And there were other secrets. I would later learn that my father’s uncles changed their names because they sounded too Jewish.  And that my father’s mother wasn’t born in this country, as she had always told us. She had come over on a ship as a Jewish immigrant with her parents from what is today Latvia, when she was a young girl. She told a story of how she had lost her birth certificate and primary school records when her school had burned down. She wasn’t sure of her birthday or birth year, so she chose July 15—payday for her job with the Bureau of Engraving in Washington, D.C., until she retired.

All those years she kept her secrets—probably out of fear, like Belle, that something bad would happen to her and her family if she admitted to lying about her citizenship and her age, while working for the federal government.

So, here I am, thinking about my father and my Jewish family on the day we remember and give thanks for the gift of the lives of all the saints—and we consider how their lives affected ours and loved us into being. And I know that there was suffering in my family’s past and fear of antisemitism, not just in Europe leading up to and during WWII, but here, at home in the United States.

Yet, my father and his family always stayed true to their faith. Grandma covered her hair, lit candles, and said the Shabbat prayers in Hebrew as the sun went down every Friday. She fasted and prayed on Jewish holidays, attended synagogue when she could, and celebrated God’s faithfulness every year with her family gathered around the table, feasting on Passover.

It was partly due to their courage to be who God made them to be and live with hope that tomorrow will be better that helped make me who I am today.

And I know I am truly blessed!

***

On this All Saints’ Day, we read the familiar passage of the Beatitudes in Luke, The Sermon on the Plain. Jesus is sharing a vision of the Kingdom of God that he ushered in—and it’s nothing like the way of the world of his day—or the way of the world today.

Jesus baffles his audience of ordinary people with words that defy logic. He has their attention—and he has ours. For all of us have experienced suffering of some kind—suffering that comes without warning, that isn’t deserved, just as the audience for Luke’s gospel, the Early church, are experiencing. Many of them, as this minority religion, a sect of Judaism at first, are experiencing poverty, grief, hunger, fear, and persecution.

And this word blessing….This is a surprising thing. it isn’t the word for a priestly blessing. This Greek word makarios “implies a person’s inner happiness due to some good fortune the person has received.” So, everywhere we see the word “Blessed,” in this passage, we can substitute the words “Happy” or “Fortunate.” Which begs the question, how is it they are being encouraged and congratulated on their good fortune of being poor, hungry, sorrowful, and persecuted?” Since when did being poor, hungry, sad, and persecuted become a good thing?

This is what I want you to understand about this passage. The Beatitudes describe the Kingdom of God—which is in this present life and all around us, and it’s also not yet here. It’s coming and will be brought to fruition when Jesus returns to reign over His Church.

So, before we can show and tell others about Christ’s Kingdom and live it out, we have to first understand and imagine it. Jesus paints a picture for us. In the Kingdom of God, the poor are lifted up, those who mourn are brought to joy, and the proud and powerful are brought down. There’s justice, peace, mercy, love.

In the Kingdom of God, we don’t have enemies. We love one another. So that explains the command to love our enemies—and pray for them. When you love your enemies and pray for them, they aren’t your enemies anymore, are they?

When we do good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us, and pray for those who abuse us, we are changing the world right where we live! And yes, people will think we are being foolish—but we are not afraid to be fools for Christ, as the apostle Paul teaches us to do. For by this foolish behavior, everyone will know that we are his disciples—and others will be made ready for the Kingdom of God to become a present reality.

If you’re wondering, well, what do Presbyterians believe about the Kingdom of God and our responsibility as the people of faith? we read about it in our Book of Order. Our Constitution tells us that “in the life of the congregation, individual believers are equipped for the ministry of witness to the love and grace of God in and for the world. The congregation reaches out to people, communities, and the world to share the good news of Jesus Christ, to gather for worship, to offer care and nurture to God’s children, to speak for social justice and righteousness, to bear witness to the truth and to the reign of God that is coming into the world.”

***

Friends, we have an important job—bearing witness to the coming reign. One way that Session has decided to do this is by remembering Kristallnacht on the anniversary this Wednesday. On Nov. 9, 1938, Nazis terrorized Jews in Germany and Austria in the night that became known as Kristallnacht, or The Night of Broken Glass. Nazis killed at least 91 people that night, burned down hundreds of synagogues, vandalized and looted 7,500 Jewish businesses, and arrested up to 30,000 Jewish men, many of whom were taken to concentration camps. Weeks later, Nazis escalated their persecution of Jews, forcing them out of their own homes and businesses and banning Jewish children from German schools. Kristallnacht foreshadowed the coming genocide of 6 million Jewish people in the Holocaust.

We can’t change the past, but we can work toward a more peaceful future. Let us hold onto our vision of the Kingdom of God in the Beatitudes and share the vision with others. There’s no hatred or persecution in God’s Kingdom.

It’s like Martin Luther King, Jr., once said: “I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.”

We will show our solidarity with our Jewish neighbors and take a stand against the rising tide of antisemitism. We will join with synagogues and churches around the world in leaving the lights burning in our house of worship all night.

Light shall replace darkness… Friendship shall replace destruction. Good will triumph over evil.

May the sight of the lights blazing Tuesday night remind you of our hope and the vision of the Peaceable Kingdom that we can see and live by faith.

May you hear the words of Jesus, assuring you of the promise of the present and coming Reign of God and your calling to share it:

“Blessed are you!”

Let us pray.

Holy One, we are blessed—happy and fortunate—with the vision you paint for us in the Beatitudes. Thank you for your love and the gift of Christ’s peace, that defies logic—surpasses human understanding. We are blessed with the promise of the present and coming Reign of God—when the poor and lowly are lifted up and the rich and proud are brought low. And there will be no more hatred, prejudice, or persecution, no more hunger, sickness, or poverty. Strengthen us by your Holy Spirit to see and bear witness to this vision so that we can make a difference, right where we live, and draw others away from the darkness and into your light. In the name of our Triune God we pray. Amen.

Connecting the Faithful

Weekly newsletter for First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

Pastor Karen Crawford