Sharing God's Love and Grace

Meditation on Luke 12: 13-34

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

July 31, 2022

Link to live-streamed video: https://fb.watch/eCz83o4Rv0/

    We hosted a funeral for a man named Michael Turrell in our sanctuary yesterday. That’s why for some of us who were here yesterday, it feels like there were 2 Sundays this weekend! Lynne. Bill. Pablo.

   He was not a member of our congregation, though his grandparents were members long ago. And I have so many people to thank in our congregation for helping with all the details.    Thank you, especially, to those who came to welcome strangers as invited guests to our church family and worship home. Because I asked for help in our newsletter, and you came!

    I met Michael’s two daughters by what I would call chance if I believed in chance. They knocked on the door to our church one Tuesday afternoon in May, when I was just setting up my office. I had to ask Dawn for a yellow pad and pen to take notes.

    They shared stories of their dad who had just passed away after a 10-year struggle with dementia. He and his wife, Anne, divorced in the 1970s. He was awarded full custody of their two adopted daughters. Desiree was 10. Linn was only 5. A logical man, not overly emotional, he had no idea how he was going to be both mother and father to them.

    The man who could fix, make, or do anything, who rebuilt a garage from the ground up and built a model of the Globe Theatre for his Malverne High School drama productions, lived by the Golden Rule. You know what that is, right? Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. He taught his daughters to work hard and to be nice. And practical things, like changing the oil in their cars.

    The man who had poured himself into raising his two daughters when he was a young man became the one who needed their tender care when he was older.

    Some unexpected things happened at the funeral.  For one, we were late starting—at least 15 minutes—or was it 20? Because many of Michael’s family got stuck in traffic or got lost on the way here. At 10 before 11, Pablo asked me if he should start playing gathering music. I said, “Sure!” Little did we know that the gathering music would stretch till quarter past the hour. I was afraid Pablo might run out of music!

   Another odd thing happened. In the third verse of the final hymn, Eternal Father, Strong to Save, our organ had a cypher—a stuck note that continued to sound loudly long after Pablo played it. It brought the song to a halt. I immediately recalled the story of one of our organ pipes falling onto the seating below. The following Sunday, guest pastor Matt Means came to preach wearing a hard hat—just in case our organ would act up again. Pablo calls it the beast!

   After the service, I gathered the family to line their cars to form a procession to the cemetery. This isn’t something I usually do, but I didn’t have help from a funeral home for this funeral. As we were preparing to leave, a man pulled into the front driveway of our parking lot, looking confused by all the cars blocking his way to the back lot. I thought, “What now?” Dressed in my black clergy garb and white stole, I went over to ask him if he were joining the funeral procession.

   He said, no. He was coming to AA! I introduced myself, shook his hand, and I never do this… But I asked how things were going on his sobriety journey! He smiled—he wasn’t offended. And he said, “Good, so far! I rely on Him every day.” He pointed up to the sky.

   I have a feeling that running into me and a funeral procession on his way to AA was a reminder to the man that God was still with him. It was a reminder to me that our opening our doors for community support groups extends our ministry to people outside our church membership.

    Friends, I can see how God is using us, sometimes in surprising ways, to build our treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.

     We are growing rich toward God.

***

     In today’s passage in the 12^th chapter of Luke, the Lord is interrupted in his teaching to the crowd with a man demanding, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” Christ will see to the root of the man’s problem, that he, being the younger brother, isn’t satisfied with what he has. He wants what his older brother has.

     The Lord warns him, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”

     This is consistent with the overall message of Luke’s gospel—that the rich and proud will be brought down and the poor and humble lifted up, such as in Mary’s Song.

    The parable he shares is about a rich landowner who decides he needs bigger barns for his abundant crop, so he won’t have to work for a long time. He imagines saying to himself, “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” God in the parable—and God is not usually in parables—but God interrupts and tells the man how foolish he has been, wasting precious time. And now his life is over, and what will become of all the possessions he has hoarded?

 ^“So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God,” he tells the man who covets his brother’s inheritance.

This is the lead in to one of the most beautiful teachings Christ shares with his disciples in every time and place. He’s no longer speaking to the man who is wanting more. He’s speaking to us. Notice how the reference to the barn connects the two passages, as we discover the word again in verse 24, “Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them.”

This is the teaching that we all need to hear today. We need only look outside at the wonder of God’s Creation when we worry how we will survive as a congregation in this time of declining Presbyterianism and a growing demographic of self-proclaimed “nones”—no religious affiliation at all.

    Don’t be discouraged by the nones, brothers and sisters. Have faith that the Lord has chosen us for this mission field. Christ is sending us out to our Long Island communities. And God is bringing to us our neighbors who need encouragement in their journeys of faith and shelter and refuge from the storms of life. That was the funeral that we hosted yesterday at the church–a family without a church that needed shelter and refuge from the storms of life-and encouragement on their faith journeys.

   We have all that we need in the God who feeds the ravens, though they neither sow nor reap. We have all that we need in the God who clothes the lilies, who neither toil nor spin.

    How much more value are we than birds and flowers to God?!

    Those who have chosen to follow Jesus in the 12^th chapter of Luke are worried and afraid for their future as his disciples. They are afraid they won’t have food to eat or clothes to wear—the necessities of life. We have worries, too, but they are different worries for our future as Christ’s disciples. What will happen if we take risks in our ministry, do things for the sole reason of building “heavenly treasure” – not necessarily bringing in more members or adding more dollars to our general fund?

    What if we do things the Spirit leads us to do just to be rich toward God?

    “You of little faith,” Jesus says to them, affectionately. Our gracious and kind Savior wants to lay their fears and our fears to rest. Which of us by worrying can add a single hour to our span of life?

    God knows all our needs, dear sisters and brothers.

     These moments, when the Lord leads us to serve in surprising ways and touch the hearts and lives of people outside our circle of friends, family and our church family, I can say with all certainty that we are building our treasure in heaven—where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.

    We are growing rich toward God, saying yes to the invitation to join with the Lord in the work God is already doing in the world.

     So I ask you now, where is your treasure? 

     Do you know that our hope in Jesus is the most precious thing of all?

Let us pray.

Holy God who feeds the ravens and clothes the lilies, thank you for caring for all our needs. Thank you for the abundant material and spiritual blessings that we have as your church, filled with your Spirit. Grow us, dear Lord. Guide us in your will so that we are rich in faith, as your Son taught us. Help us build our treasure in heaven with more opportunities to offer hope and healing to the brokenhearted and testify to your goodness. Grant us your peace and confidence as we accept your call to the mission field of our Long Island communities and beyond. In the name of our Triune God we pray. Amen.

Meditation on John 14:18-27

In Memory of Michael C. Turrell

Aug. 22, 1937-May 13, 2022

Pastor Karen Crawford   

July 30, 202 

    Michael Turrell could fix, make or do anything.

    He rebuilt the garage from the ground up. In his career, he worked as an electrical engineer for an elevator company. But his favorite place was his shop in the basement of his Hempstead home.

   For Michael, every tool had its use, and every tool had a special place on the pegboard in his shop. There was no question where the tool belonged; he painted an outline of each on the pegboard.

     You could say that he had special gifts.

    He could put back everything into the box that it came in, with every part in its niche.

    He was one of those people who loved his work so much, it wasn’t work. When he retired from the elevator company, he didn’t retire. He continued working as a consultant.

    His engineering career followed four years of service and electrical training in the U.S. Navy, not long after his high school graduation—Malverne High, Class of ‘56. He graduated with high honors in industrial education. Some will remember that he was the one who built the replica of Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre for school drama productions.

     He was a logical man, not overly emotional. He planned every project carefully. He measured twice before he cut once.

     What a great challenge it must have been when he and his wife, Anne, divorced in the 1970s. Though they remained friendly over the years and spent some holidays together, he had full custody of their two young daughters—10-year-old Desiree and 5-year-old Linn. He was “flummoxed,” Linn says. “He didn’t know what to do.”

     But the good-natured, sweet man threw himself into the task of primary caregiver and provider, raising the girls with all his heart, mind and might. They learned through his example to live by the Golden Rule—to treat others as they wanted to be treated. To be nice—as his nickname was “Nicky Nice Guy.” And he taught them practical living skills, such as how to change the oil in their cars.

    “He was my hero,” Linn says.

     That made his illness, his 10-year decline with dementia until he no longer knew his loved ones—all the much harder, when the roles were reversed. Their father, who had been the strong, faithful single parent for his daughters for so many years became the one who needed their tender care.

***

   In our reading in the gospel of John, Jesus urges his disciples to not be anxious or afraid when he leaves them. He is preparing them for his death on a cross. He offers his peace to them and to us, a peace not like the world gives. The Apostle Paul picks up that theme of peace in his letter to the Romans, reminding us that we have a peace with God in Christ that cannot be taken away. It isn’t a fleeting feeling that comes and goes if we are happy or sad or overwhelmed by the troubles of this world. This is a perfect peace made by a loving and gracious God who sought us while we were yet sinners and made a way for us to come back home to him when we couldn’t make a way for ourselves.

    This is a God who seeks us still and will never stop pursuing us. A God who holds us firmly in the grasp of his hand.

     This is a God who uses hardship and pain to shape and mold our character and work his mysterious purposes. The apostle boasts in his afflictions because they will produce endurance, character, and hope in him. He reminds us of the gift of the Holy Spirit, the Comforter whom Christ promised to his disciples. The Holy Spirit dwelling in us helps us remain faithful in difficult times, but also pours love into our hearts so that we may bear witness to the One whose love is unconditional, everlasting and inclusive of all people.

      Ecclesiastes teaches us that there is a time and a purpose for everything that happens in our lives on earth. Nothing is random or left to chance.  My favorite line of this familiar passage that inspired the popular song by the Byrds in 1965 is the assurance that God has placed in each of us a sense of our past and future with Him. We have “eternity in our hearts.” This space made by God in us can only be filled by the Lord, the only One who knows our beginning and end and all the days in between.

     We spend so much of our time searching for happiness and pursuing things that don’t matter for eternity. And we know that, deep down, the writer of Ecclesiastes is correct when he says it’s all “a chasing after the wind.” But he acknowledges that in our busy lives, God wants us to find happiness in simple, ordinary things as long as we don’t pursue these things and our happiness as if these are our main purpose for existence. The source of all good gifts is our God, whom we are called to gratefully serve. The Lord has given us, says Ecclesiastes, “food, drink, and that we should take pleasure in all our toil.” This is the work we choose for our life—how we make a living—and the good works God chooses for us, such as caring for our loved ones as parents, grandparents, husbands and wives, and children of aging parents in their time of need.

     “I will not leave you orphaned,” Jesus says with tenderness for those who have left their families and former occupations to follow him.

   “I am coming to you,” he says, speaking of his promise of return for the Church—for us.

     “In a little while the world will no longer see me,” he says, “but you will see me; because I live, you also will live.”

    This is the promise of our new, resurrected lives with him who is risen from the dead—and that new life begins right here in this world. Today!

      Though I never had the opportunity to meet Michael Turrell, in my imagination, I can see the man who could fix or make anything, the one who rebuilt his garage from the ground up and painted the outlines of his tools on a pegboard in his basement workshop.

     I can imagine him now in the joy that Christ has prepared for all of us. He is dwelling in a “house not made with human hands,” which the apostle Paul, who made his living as a tentmaker, talked about.

     In this “earthly tent” we live in, our fragile human bodies are vulnerable to sickness and disease, suffering and sorrow. But we have a house that lies beyond the everyday, busy-ness of this world. We have a house eternal in the heavens. 

     God, who has placed eternity in our hearts and has made a space for himself in each of us, has given us a deep longing, as the apostle Paul says so poetically, for what is mortal in us to be swallowed up by life.

Let us pray.

Heavenly Father, thank you for creating us in love, for love, and pouring your love into our hearts by the Holy Spirt. Bless all who are caregivers, especially those caring for aging parents. Comfort and heal us in our sorrow. Strengthen us in difficult times. Stop us when we pursue the wind instead of doing your good works that matter for all eternity. Give us a vision for what lies beyond this earthly tent we live in and the everyday busyness of this world. Grant us faith in our house not built with human hands, a house eternal in the heavens.  Amen.

Meditation on Luke 11-13

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

July 24, 2022

Link to recording of livestreamed service: https://fb.watch/exzE_CkDDf/

On Thursday, Jim and I visited the Smithtown Emergency Food Pantry. We worked alongside Marci and Alexis from our congregation and other faithful women to help neighbors struggling with food insecurity.

I was amazed at how our local food pantry, which relies completely on donations and receives no government funding, is so well organized and equipped to care for the needs of families, small and large.

 The ministry isn’t just about food for bodies. It is a ministry with a kind heart, for those who volunteer have come to know the “regular visitors.” They are welcomed and greeted by name. Volunteers and visitors chat like old friends.

On that hot day, when we drove home sweaty and dirty after serving just 3 hours at the food pantry, I dreamed of a cold shower and Carvel ice cream.

I thought about how in The Lord’s Prayer we say, “Give us this day our daily bread.”

And how that day and every day the food pantry works to help people struggling with food insecurity, we are an answer to someone’s prayer.

***

Today, in our gospel of Luke, the disciples watch and listen to Jesus as he speaks with God, and they ask him to teach them how to pray. This is a prayer for all God’s children, all Christ’s followers, to pray together in every time and every place.

Christ’s teaching on prayer in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew and in this passage in Luke reveals that there IS a right and wrong way to pray. And Jesus wants us to learn the right way.

⁵ “And whenever you pray,” he says in Matthew 6, “do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. ⁶ But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

⁷ “When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. ⁸ Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.”

From the beginning, the disciples notice something different about the prayer Jesus prays because he prays in Aramaic—the common language spoken by Jewish people in their day. Jesus lives in a world where the public reading of Scripture and the offering of prayers to God are always in classical, biblical Hebrew. Jesus teaches us that while Judaism and Islam have sacred languages for their scripture (Hebrew and Arabic); Christianity does not.

Jesus inaugurates a new age when he begins his prayer with the Aramaic Abba, translated Father, but closer in meaning to our modern use of Daddy! In at least four Middle Eastern countries today, says scholar Kenneth Bailey, Abba is still the first word a child learns to say, much like our children say, Da da! Daddy!

The one line at the center of the prayer that I couldn’t get off my mind this week when I worked at the food pantry is, “Give us this day our daily bread.”

Bread is the staple food for Middle Easterners. In the Bible, bread symbolizes all that we eat.

What seems like such a simple phrase, turns out, isn’t so simple. The word translated daily appears nowhere else in the Greek language! Scholars aren’t sure what it means. Some argue the word refers to time, such as the bread of today or the bread of tomorrow. Others say the word refers to amount not time, such as just enough bread to keep us alive, and no more, or the bread that we need.

Still others say there’s a problem with the translation from the Aramaic to the Greek. Bailey says that Jesus may have been saying in Aramaic, instead of daily bread, the “lasting, never-ceasing, never-ending bread.” In other words, Jesus is teaching us to pray, “Give us today the bread that doesn’t run out.”

“One of the most basic human fears is the dread of economic privation,” Bailey says. “Will we have enough? We are managing now, but what about the future? What if I lose my job? What if the kids get sick? What if I am unable to work? How will we survive? One of the deepest and most crippling fears of the human spirit is not having enough to eat.” Jesus is teaching his disciples to be released from that fear of not having enough to eat, a fear that can destroy a sense of well-being in the present and erode hope for the future. Jesus is praying, “Deliver us, O Lord, from the fear of not having enough to eat. Give us bread for today and with it give us confidence that tomorrow, we will have enough.”

Two more treasures are offered from this one line of the Lord’s Prayer. One is that we ask for bread, not cake. “Consumerism and the kingdom of mammon have no place among those who pray this prayer. We ask for that which sustains life, not all its extras.”

And we ask for “our” not “mine.”

Mother Teresa, in her book, The Joy of Living, writes of an occasion from her life in Calcutta.

“I will never forget the night an old gentleman came to our house and said that there was a family with eight children, and they had not eaten, and could we do something for them. So I took some rice and went there. The mother took the rice from my hands, divided it into two and went out. I could see the faces of the children shining with hunger. When she came back, I asked her where she had gone. She gave me a very simple answer. “They are hungry also.” And “they” were the family next door, and she knew that they were hungry. I was not surprised that she gave, but I was surprised that she knew… I had not the courage to ask her how long her family hadn’t eaten, but I am sure it must have been a long time, and yet she knew—in her suffering… In her terrible bodily suffering, she knew that next door, they were hungry also.” (337-38).

“This woman with 8 children may not have known the Lord’s Prayer, but there was only “our rice” not “my rice” even when her children were hungry. The prayer for “our bread” includes our neighbors.

“It is ‘our Father’ and ‘our bread.’”

***

I started out greeting visitors on Thursday at the food pantry, but I quickly realized my calling was serving the regular workers. I filled grocery carts with lists of items for large and small families and restocked pantry shelves. The most important part of the ministry was left to the core workers who are there, day after day, never growing weary of doing good, serving our neighbors with bread, as The Lord’s Prayer stirs us to do.  

For this is the thing about The Lord’s Prayer, my friends! We ask our Father to provide for us—and God will answer that prayer for us through others, and for others through us.

The Lord’s Prayer has the power to change the world, beginning right here-with us who are sent out to be Christ’s Body and witness through our generous giving to the coming Kingdom that Christ ushered in.

As we pray that prayer that Jesus still prays with and for us, may the Lord grant us release from the fear of not having enough of anything we need in this world, a fear that sometimes stops us from sharing what we have with others in need. For the prayer for our bread includes our neighbors.

May we pray with Jesus, “Deliver us, O Lord, from the fear of not having enough to eat. Give us bread for today and with it give us confidence that tomorrow, we will have enough.”

May we come to trust and obey the One whom Jesus called Abba! Daddy! The One who listens to all who ask, seek, and knock, persisting in prayer until the door of blessing opens wide, and thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. The Father who wants to give good gifts to all God’s children desires to give us this day the bread that doesn’t run out, the bread that is ours, not mine.

Will you pray with me as Jesus taught us?

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For thine is the Kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.

Weekly Newsletter with First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

Meditation on Luke 10:38-42

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

July 17, 2022

Link to livestreamed recording: https://fb.watch/eldNUKMFvV/

Jim and I hosted our first fellowship gathering at the manse this week. We welcomed the deacons and their spouses and children on Wednesday night for a cook-out. Jim grilled and our guests brought delicious food to share. We had a feast, and it was a lovely time!

Remembering the days and weeks of preparation before the gathering, I wondered why I worried so much about the details, though I tried not to.

I think because it mattered to me so much. I just wanted it to be special for those who were coming and show my appreciation for all their service to our congregation. It was my way of saying, “Thank you for caring for our church family, for being Christ’s hands and feet.”

***

Is it a coincidence that our lectionary gospel reading this week is the story of Jesus at the home of Mary and Martha? I didn’t plan it, but God certainly has perfect timing. The heartwarming story of Mary and Martha hosting Jesus for dinner is only found in the gospel of Luke.

It’s so short—4 verses—that you can almost overlook it, tucked between the parable of the Good Samaritan and the Lord’s Prayer. And yet, it’s one of my favorite passages in Luke. Why? Because it’s so real. I can imagine it. I can identify with it. Can you?

I’ve always admired Marthas, as I picture them like Martha Stewart. They make everything from scratch, and everything tastes delicious. People are constantly asking for recipes and advice about cooking and entertaining. They set a beautiful table with floral centerpieces and napkins folded like swans.

Am I describing anyone you know?

Martha of Bethany—sister to Mary and Lazarus, the one whom Jesus will raise from the dead in John chapter 11—is struggling as the host for Jesus, despite her being the one to invite him to dinner! It could just be because she wants everything to be perfect for him. And now her sister Mary is shirking her duties, and Martha can’t do everything all by herself.

Martha may be upset that Mary doesn’t seem to know her place—that women belong in the kitchen, not sitting at the feet of the great spiritual Teacher, hanging on his every word. Martha knows her place! She is doing exactly what her society expects of a woman.

If it weren’t for Martha, there would be nothing to eat or drink! A houseful of Marys would result in people going hungry and thirsty, though they might be drinking Living Water—to never be spiritually thirsty again. Martha is probably the eldest in her family and possibly a widow. She has the gifts of leadership and hospitality. Without Martha, Jesus might never have met this faithful family in the village of Bethany on the eastern slope of the Mount of Olives near Jerusalem.

For their story in Luke begins, ^“Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him.”

Let’s consider for a moment the importance of women in Mary and Martha’s time and place. Have you noticed that in the stories of Jesus more women are unnamed than those who are named?

The Samaritan woman at the well. What’s her name?

The widow who gives the least valuable coin as her offering and the greatest gift in the temple treasury because she gives all she has. What’s her name?

What about the woman Jesus heals, the one who has been hemorrhaging for 12 years, when he is on the way to heal Jairus’ 12-year-old daughter? What is her name? And what is the daughter’s name?

Don’t you wish we knew?

So we can conclude this: if a woman is named in the stories of Jesus, she must be important to Christ’s ministry and to the lessons the Lord God wants us to learn for today—to apply to our lives of faith.

The first thought or concern I have to share about this passage is that I want to make sure you know that Jesus is not picking on Martha when he gently corrects her. I have listened to sermons that are sharply critical of Martha and hold Mary up on a pedestal and miss the point of this passage. Martha is not a villain. Mary is not a saint. Jesus doesn’t love one more than the other; he loves both the same!

He isn’t angry at Martha for trying to bless him and the disciples when they are guests in her home.  This is an opportunity for Jesus to teach Martha about God’s love and grace—and that his expectations for her and Mary and the rest of the female disciples are nothing like what the world expects of them in their time or what they expect of themselves.

Jesus is trying to comfort Martha in her distress and teach her a new way of life—the way of peace, rather than the path of anxiety and distraction. It isn’t Martha’s busy-ness that is her problem! It’s the anxiety that drives her to busy-ness and perfectionism. Her anxiety gets in the way of her seeing and accepting Christ’s love, for she begins her question to Jesus, “Don’t you care?” In other words, “Why don’t you love me?”

Jesus assures her, “Martha, Martha’—he says her name twice, so you know right away that he DOES care!—“you are worried and distracted by many things, but few things are needed—indeed only one– Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

What is that one thing, dear friends? The better part?  Knowing the Lord and accepting Christ’s love, a love that can never be taken away from us.

***

Time just flew by at the deacon gathering Wednesday night. People arrived around 7, and suddenly, it was dark and 9:30; people were getting ready to go home. I was wishing I had more time with them. I was sad to see them leave.

I wondered afterward, “Did I let go of the concern for all the details soon enough to just enjoy being in the presence of Christ’s humble servants? Did I let go of the concern for all the details soon enough to enjoy being in the presence of Christ himself, who is with us in all our gatherings in His name?”

I honestly think I stopped worrying as soon as the first people arrived and asked how they could help. They all asked how they could help!! The deacons, with their gifts of humble service, made me feel welcome, comfortable, and cared for—what I hoped to make them feel. There was so much delicious food, smiles and laughter, and the sharing of stories. Kindness reigned. One young man and his mom, during the party, restacked our woodpile that had fallen over in a storm. Many of the deacons stayed to clear and wipe tables, wash dishes, and put away the food.

I will have another opportunity to serve this Tuesday night, when our Session and their families come for a picnic at the manse instead of our regular Session meeting. It will be a chance for me to get to know them more and to say to our servant leaders, “Thank you for everything you do for the Lord and our congregation.”

I can’t promise that I won’t worry about all the details before the gathering. Because it’s in my nature to worry—as it was probably in Martha’s nature to worry and to want to give her very best for the Lord.

Our Savior is waiting for all of us to come to him, like Martha did, and ask for help with the problems of today and tomorrow. There will always be struggles—and new lessons to be learned on our journeys of faith. The Lord welcomes us just as we are—and loves us too much to leave us that way. Jesus is still using moments like these, as we gather around the Word, illumined by the Spirit, to teach us what we need to know to be his disciples, to follow him more faithfully.

Following Christ means challenging societal expectations, like Mary, sitting at the Teacher’s feet, learning spiritual truths with the other male disciples of her day. Following Christ starts with a decision, as we sing in that familiar song, “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus,” no turning back, no turning back. That one decision will lead to many more as we seek to grow the Church and please the Lord.

Friends, we live in anxious times. The story of Mary and Martha shows us the truth about ourselves—how we always want a quick fix and others to change and be what we want them to be. But this isn’t the way of Christ, who revealed God’s love in humility, giving his life for the world. Our Redeemer shows us the way to peace is through a loving relationship with Him who suffers with us, and our own heart’s change toward other people, and not with the Lord making all our trials and difficulties disappear.

We sing,

The world behind me, the cross before me,
the world behind me, the cross before me,
the world behind me, the cross before me –
no turning back, no turning back.

Are you willing to trust the Lord in your distress? Jesus cared for Martha and Mary. The Lord cares for you and me!

Will you accept the comfort of God’s love, the one thing that can never be taken away?

Let us pray.

Holy One, thank you for your example of welcome and service in Martha and hunger for spiritual teaching and to know you more in Mary. Thank you for your love and grace for us who struggle sometimes with anxiety, when we know the way of peace is through intimate relationship with Your Son and a change of our own hearts toward others. In our world of chaos, help us to be still, and find time to sit at the feet of your Son, defying society’s expectations, and our own expectations of busy-ness, for the sake of busy-ness. Let us feel your peaceful presence with us and hear you speaking our names to comfort us in our distress, as your Son did with Martha in the village of Bethany that long ago day. In His name we pray. Amen.

Meditation on Luke 10:25–37

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

Pastor Karen Crawford

July 10, 2022

Link to live-streamed video: https://fb.watch/edw3JlGZJ8/

Long Islanders like our white picket fences and stone walls!

That’s my conclusion from talking walks in our St. James neighborhood. Decorative rocks line the streets on both sides, where the grass ends and pavement begins. I follow the rocks as I walk, noticing when one is missing, raised, or turned the wrong way.

At the end of my street a tall, wrought iron fence surrounds a large house. Wrought iron gates block the entrance and exit to the circular driveway.

I wonder, as I walk by, if the iron walls are for keeping people out or for keeping someone or something in? This reminds me of Robert Frost’s poem, “Mending Wall,” with that wonderful, memorable line, “Good fences make good neighbors.”

 “Mending Wall” begins,

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,

That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,

And spills the upper boulders in the sun;

And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.

The work of hunters is another thing:

I have come after them and made repair

Where they have left not one stone on a stone,

But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,

To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,

No one has seen them made or heard them made,

But at spring mending-time we find them there.

I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;

And on a day we meet to walk the line

And set the wall between us once again.

We keep the wall between us as we go.

To each the boulders that have fallen to each.

And some are loaves and some so nearly balls

We have to use a spell to make them balance:

‘Stay where you are until our backs are turned!’

We wear our fingers rough with handling them.

Oh, just another kind of out-door game,

One on a side. It comes to little more:

There where it is we do not need the wall:

He is all pine and I am apple orchard.

My apple trees will never get across

And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.

He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’

Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder

If I could put a notion in his head:

‘Why do they make good neighbors? Isn’t it

Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.

Before I built a wall I’d ask to know

What I was walling in or walling out,

And to whom I was like to give offense.”

We learn from Luke’s gospel today that there are all sorts of fences and walls in Jesus’ times. The kind Frost was talking about and the kind that divide people, born of prejudice, fear, and hatred. The two groups who are enemies in this passage are Jews and Samaritans, who are actually cousins, descendants, both of them, of the 12 tribes of Israel.

The set up for the Parable of the “Good” Samaritan is Jesus talking with an expert in religious law who wants to test him and trap him into saying something that will get him in trouble with the authorities.

I have heard that lawyers are trained to only ask questions in court that they already know the answers to. Is that true? The expert in religious law in Christ’s day thinks he already knows the answer to his question. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 

Jesus answers with a question of his own. This is how he teaches. He points to Scripture—debating what an expert in religious law would already know. “What is written in the law?” Jesus asks. “What do you read there?”

The lawyer’s confident answer combines two verses in different parts of the law.  Love God is from Deut. 6:5; love neighbor is from Leviticus 18:19. The order is important, and they are connected. First, we love God, and through our relationship with the Lord, we are empowered to love those whom God loves—our neighbors. All our neighbors. Everywhere.

Therefore, if we don’t love God, we don’t have the power to love others—especially the neighbors we may have been taught since childhood cannot be our friends.

The lawyer comes up with the correct answer, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.”

Then Jesus answers the man’s question, “Do this,” he says, meaning, love the Lord your God and your neighbor as yourself, “and you will live.”

The lawyer isn’t ready to give up. “Wanting to justify himself” and his lack of love for certain people, he asks, “Who is my neighbor?” He expects Jesus to interpret Leviticus 19:18 to mean only “the sons and daughters of your own people.” When we keep reading to the end of the chapter, we discover that our neighbor isn’t just people from our own religion, country, culture, and extended family. Lev. 19:34 says, “The stranger who sojourns with you shall be to you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.”

***

Studying this parable this week, I began to see Christ in his work of mercy in the Good Samaritan. Was he talking about himself? Was he foreshadowing what is to come? He would be hated and rejected by his own—God who humbled himself and became human, like us, when we were lost and perishing in our sins. The Samaritan, like the Lord, is filled with compassion, binding up the wounds of the stranger, left for dead. He brings healing and wholeness through ordinary elements made holy in their divine use—the oil of anointing and wine of Communion.

The One born in a lowly stable because there was no room at the inn brings the wounded stranger on his own animal to a room in a Jewish inn, a place of safety, refuge, and comfort, prepared for him.

Bible scholar Kenneth Bailey points out that the Good Samaritan, by bringing the man to a Jewish inn, was risking his life to do so. “Putting the story into an American context around 1850,” he says, “suppose a Native American found a cowboy with two arrows in his back, placed the cowboy on his horse and rode into Dodge City. After checking into a room over the saloon, the man spent the night taking care of the cowboy. How would the people of Dodge City react to the Native American the following morning when he emerged from the saloon? Most Americans know that they would probably kill him, even though he had helped a cowboy. After the Samaritan paid his bill, he had yet to escape the town. Was there a crowd awaiting him outside the inn? Was he beaten or killed? We do not know…(why the Samaritan exposed himself to potential violence.)” (Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes, 296).

The wounded man has done nothing to help himself. He is powerless to save himself; he has nothing of value—no clothing, possessions, money. He hasn’t spoken—doesn’t ask for help. Doesn’t thank the Good Samaritan. He has done nothing to deserve mercy or generosity—and yet, it is offered to him, as the Lord’s grace is lavishly offered to all.

The Samaritan— Jesus—gives a large deposit and pledges to pay the full price for his room and care when he returns. Do you wonder why he leaves the wounded stranger after a day? And why is it the innkeeper’s job to care for the injured man?  

Could it be that we the Church are the innkeeper? The Lord invites us into the work of repair for our wounded world. God chooses to be co-creators with us because of the Lord’s desire to be in relationship with us. Our Creator and Redeemer uses wounded healers like us who trust in the One who is Love. The healing, transforming work begun by Christ will be finished in us on the day he comes again! In the meantime, in this in-between time, it is our work to be done, with the Spirit’s help.

In binding wounds, showing mercy, and the generous giving of ourselves, we are strengthened to hold the things of this world more loosely. The injured man had and needed no possessions in order to possess everything–life everlasting with the Lord. In Christ, he had all that he needed.

In responding to our call to care for the world, we become more eternally minded. We start to care less about the accumulation of things. We can’t take it with us, can we? Sometimes, having too much stuff is a burden. If we have a bigger house and yard, we will only have to erect taller fences with iron gates that wall in and wall out to protect what we own.

In our loving of God and neighboring, we come to see the Other, the Stranger, as God’s beloved child. Friends, in doing this, we will live.

Good fences don’t make good neighbors, though every spring, we mend the wall together.

One day, we will see our Lord face to face. Love will wipe our tears away.

“Well done, good and faithful servants,” the Savior will say. “Enter into the joy I have prepared.”

Let us pray.

Holy One, we learn so much from the teachings of Your Son. Thank you for the example of the Good Samaritan, and the lesson that your costly love has no walls or boundaries. Give us eyes to see every stranger without judgement or fear, your beloved child, like us. Thank you for your love for us and desire to be in relationship with us, and your great patience with us when we fail to love. Thank you for the gracious gift of eternal life in Christ, something we don’t deserve and can’t earn, but is offered to us, nevertheless. Empower us to co-create with you, dear Creator, to be agents of change as we ourselves are changed by you. Stir us to love you with all our heart, soul, mind and might and our neighbors as ourselves. Amen.

Meditation on 2 Kings 5:1-14

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

July 3, 2022

Link to Live-stream video: https://fb.watch/e2EfoOpaXW/

When I first heard the call to parish ministry, I wasn’t working in a parish. I was serving as a campground chaplain for Codorus State Park in Pennsylvania leading ecumenical worship in an outdoor amphitheater.

I had never planned on working in a campground before I had a surprise call in January 2007 to come and interview for the position with a committee from the Church of the Brethren.

I had never been camping before.

When they chose me for the position, I asked my youngest son, James, to help me.

James was in middle school at the time and NOT interested in religion. He said, “OK,” when I offered to pay him 20 bucks a weekend. He came with me when I did children’s messages on Saturdays, and he helped to set up and take down for the outdoor worship services on Sundays and operated the sound system.

One Sunday, the service was delayed when James opened the wooden box to plug in my microphone and found a large snake coiled inside. When the ranger came to gently remove the snake, she said it was a “good snake.” We went ahead with the service as if nothing had happened, but after that, we were all a little nervous whenever James opened the wooden box.

The hardest part about the ministry wasn’t the worship service, though I thought it would be, since I had no experience preaching and had never taken a preaching class. It was when I had to go from campsite to campsite on Friday nights as campers arrived, introduce myself, and invite people to church. It’s a lot easier to share your faith in church with people who come expecting you to share your faith. It’s not so easy going out to labor for the harvest when there’s a good chance you will be rejected. I wasn’t welcomed at every campsite.

Fewer than 50 people came to worship, but it was a different congregation every week. I started from scratch with invitations every weekend. But the people who came brought us so much joy. I remember the little girls who showed up in pajamas and bare feet to help me greet and give out bulletins. I remember the live music from local churches that included banjo, fiddle, guitar, and sometimes autoharp. I remember Mark who taught James how to twist balloons into animals and swords to give to the children. They would line up for his creations! And Georgia who made the delicious peach sauce when we had the ice cream social at the end of the season—and 200 people came! My wrist was tired from scooping vanilla ice cream.

As the summer went on, James had a change of heart. He started to look forward to the church services, though he didn’t want me to know that. He talked with the people for a long time after worship when we had donut holes and lemonade. He began to see the power of ministry, how God was using us to help people find healing, joy, and peace.

He even let me play Christian music on the 45-minute drive to the camp.

***

We encounter the prophet Elisha again today in our Old Testament lesson. His gifts are sought by a powerful enemy of Israel. The king of Aram in what is part of Syria today is requesting a miracle for his army commander who had led the Aramean troops to victories. The request is brought with riches of this world beyond what the people of their day could imagine to entice the Israelites to cooperate: 10 talents of silver weighing about 750 pounds; 6,000 shekels of gold weighing another 150 pounds! Says my Hebrew professor, Matt Schlimm, “It is more money than hundreds of people would make in a year.” Not to mention the 10 sets of garments—more clothes than any regular person would ever be able to afford.

The Israelite king responds with fear, believing the king of Aram is looking for an excuse to go to war. But Elisha says, “Send him to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” Naaman comes to Elisha’s front door with his troops and ancient machines of war—horses and chariots.

And…. Elisha doesn’t come to the door. He sends a messenger who tells the great commander how to find healing. His skin disease isn’t leprosy or Hansen’s Disease as we know it today. But it turns his skin white, and those who suffered from it were often forced to live alone—the great man an outcast from his community.

The messenger says, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored, and you shall be made clean.”

Naaman goes away fuming at the disrespect of the prophet, giving him no attention, making no effort to help him, and insinuating that the Israelite river would have healing properties that the rivers of Damascus in his land of Aram would not.

Who could blame Elisha for his not wanting to come to his door? Naaman and his army had committed horrific acts against Israel. We know from the beginning of the passage that he had in his household a young, Israelite slave girl seized on one of his army’s raids.

The surprise in this passage is that the healing and blessing of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is bestowed on a fierce enemy of Israel. And this is the God of mercy whom we love and serve! We worship a Risen Savior who gave his life for the world God so loves, teaching us that it’s not enough to love our families and friends—people like us, who love us back; we are called to love everyone, including those who seem different from us and speak and act as enemies.

Another surprise in this passage is the gracious attitude and strong voice of those in their society who had NO voice—the Israelite slave who tells her master he will find healing with the prophet of Israel and the servants who persuade the proud Naaman to change his mind and do as the Israelite prophet has said.

He washes in the Jordan 7 times, and his flesh is restored, like the flesh of a young boy. He is made clean!

***

One Friday evening, that first summer of my campground chaplaincy, I was making my rounds to campsites inviting people to church. Campfires glowed and people were settling in for the night. I was tired and ready to go home. So when I saw a large group of Harley Davidson bikers dressed in spiked helmets, bandanas and black fringed jackets and boots, I thought maybe we could cut short the campground visitation.

James said, “But Mom, they need Jesus, too!”

At that moment, I was longing for the kid who wasn’t interested in religion.

I reached out to them and introduced myself, invited them to church. I left my flyer, and I walked away, never expecting to see them, again.

On Sunday morning, some of them came to worship! One brought his guitar and asked what I wanted him to play. More would have been there, he said with a smile, but they had their own service at their campsite. They were members of the Christian Motorcyclists Association.

My fear of rejection almost caused me to miss a beautiful blessing—and see a glimpse of just how big the Kingdom of God is growing!

On this weekend, when we celebrate our country in all its wonderful diversity and the many freedoms we enjoy, including the freedom to worship as we desire and be who God wants us to be, we are reminded to whom we belong. That our lives are not our own.

We are humbled by the knowledge that the many blessings we enjoy are entrusted to us to be faithful stewards of the gospel of Jesus Christ. To grow the Church. To build up the Kingdom of God drawing ever nearer.

God’s healing love is for the world—the proud and the lowly. The rich and those who are struggling to get by. Those with a voice and those whose voices have been silenced or ignored.

It’s up to us—we who have experienced the healing waters of baptism, our cleansing and redemption from sin, to share and live out Christ’s life-giving message of peace and reconciliation. The Lord is sending us out now to our mission fields—our homes, families, and communities–with the power and unity of the Spirit.

Lambs of the Good Shepherd, we go out in the midst of wolves to love and serve God and neighbor. Because the harvest is plentiful, and the laborers are few.

Let us pray.

Lord of the Harvest, thank you for the many blessings that we enjoy and for entrusting us to be stewards of your gospel, of the good news of eternal life. Help us to faithfully labor as your humble servants for healing and peace in our divided nation and broken world. Open our ears to the voices of the lowly and empower us by your Spirit to work for freedom and justice for all until darkness, oppression, and fear are no more. In Christ we pray. Amen.

Meditation on John 14

In Memory of Joyce Robinson

12/2/1937 ~ 6/24/2022

June 29, 2022

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Pastor Karen Crawford

¹‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. ²In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? ³And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. ⁴And you know the way to the place where I am going.’ ⁵Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ ⁶Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. ⁷If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.’…

¹⁸ ‘I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. ¹⁹In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. ²⁰On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you…

²⁵ ‘I have said these things to you while I am still with you.²⁶But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. ²⁷Peace I leave with you; 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.

***

When I shared with our church family on Sunday that Joyce Robinson had gone home to be with the Lord, there was an audible gasp. The news was a surprise and a shock for some of our members, too hard to absorb right away. Somehow, with the pandemic and pastoral transition, we had lost contact with Joyce and her family. We didn’t know how ill she was.

It would have been my joy to be that peaceful presence of Christ for Joyce and her family in their time of need. I wouldn’t have been the only one who would have reached out to her. Our church would have been praying for her, calling her, and sending cards. Those who knew her well would have visited.

I am sorry I wasn’t able to meet her in person so that I could have encouraged her in her faith and thank her for her kind service to the Lord and His Church.

Joyce joined our church family on March 17, 2009. She was ordained a deacon on July 19, 2011. She had some family connections with our congregation; her mother and sister or aunt may have been members some time ago. I will do more research on that!

I wish I knew who it was who may have invited her to come here that first Sunday she walked through our doors. Who was it that made her feel welcome, right from the start? I am pretty sure what made her fall in love with our congregation was the wonderful people in our congregation! I know she felt loved and accepted here. She was!

No matter who invited her and made her feel welcome, I know it was ALL God’s doing. The Holy Spirit used us for God’s loving purposes. The Lord had a plan to bless us—and to bless her, giving her an opportunity to minister with her gifts and talents, using some gifts, perhaps, she didn’t even know she had.

I want Joyce’s family to know that she was there for other people in our congregation in their time of need. Testimonies of her kindness and compassion started pouring in by email after word of her passing was shared. Members wrote, “This is sad news indeed.” Another said, “I just want you to know that Joyce was such a caring woman. Always made the effort to check with you in church or at home.” Still another said, “That’s so sad. She was a lovely woman.”

More than one shared their regret at not being able to attend this service today. One said, “as I knew Joyce, and she was a warm, wonderful person.”

Another shared, “I remember Joyce as a very reliable and caring deacon. (She) provided me with useful and compassionate information regarding home health aides for a close friend of mine.”

Joyce’s children, Pam and Jamie, shared some of their mother’s life story with me on Monday.

She was born in 1937 in the South Shore town of Bellmore. She was the second oldest of 5 children. She met 31-year-old James Robinson on a blind date when she was 20. He was just getting back from serving in the U.S. Army, stationed in Alaska. They began a 43-year-marriage which included children and grandchildren, work, and engineering courses at night for Jim till he finished his college degree. In their retirement, they traveled, camped, cruised, and enjoyed their own boat. Jim, her companion and great protector and provider, passed away in 2001.

Joyce worked as a legal secretary and for a real estate agency and later as a driver and personal care assistant for senior citizens. She took pride in keeping an immaculate home, using her Electrolux vacuum to make neat rows in the carpet. She was a good cook—and made meatloaf, pot roast, and turkey breast Sunday dinners.  She had style and flair and liked to go shopping for clothes and accessories. Her clothing, shoes, and handbags always matched! At Christmastime, there many presents under the tree. Joyce would have started her shopping months before; each gift was artfully wrapped. She enjoyed music and sang soprano with a local choral group, “Sweet Adelines.”

The greatest joy in life was her family and especially her grandchildren. They could always make her smile.

I learned that she had overcome many difficulties in her youth. Many people who knew Joyce didn’t know about the trauma she experienced as a child. Her father died from liver cancer when she was 14. After his death, her mother was not able to support the family on her own. Joyce and her sister were given to another family in foster care. Eventually, Joyce’s mother was able to earn enough money in her job to reunite and provide for all 5 of her children under one roof. But Joyce could never again feel peace or security in her home and family of origin. She had deep emotional wounds, broken places inside of her that she didn’t want other people to see. She struggled with anxiety and perfectionism, with high expectations for herself and others.

It wasn’t until the last year or so, after her health became more fragile and she had to give up driving and independent living, that her family began to see a change in her personality.

I like to think it had something to do with her growing faith—that the Spirit was helping her to accept the things that she couldn’t change, as she prayed in her favorite Serenity Prayer, posted all around her home. The Spirit was giving her courage to change the things she could and the wisdom to know the difference.

Finally, peace had come.

***

This is the peace Christ promises all of us, as he did for his first followers. He doesn’t give as the world gives.

As he prepared his already grieving, confused disciples for his death on a cross, he told them that they already knew the way to the Father—because they knew him.

 “Do not let your hearts be troubled,” he said, knowing how anxious they were at the thought of his death. Don’t be anxious! He says. Don’t be afraid. This is NOT the end.

Nothing in this world can change the wonderful future God has planned. Nothing can ever separate us from the love of God shown in Christ Jesus.

Christ is our peace with God, with one another and ourselves.

He has sent His Spirit to help us. We are not alone in our suffering and sorrow. Christ knows and suffers with us. He wants to heal our broken places.

And we ALL have broken places we don’t want other people to see.

Here in this place of refuge and safety, acceptance and love, we can be vulnerable with one another—and admit that we still struggle with our broken places and long for healing.

The Kingdom of heaven and our new and abundant life in Christ starts here in this world, in this moment. We have the hope that Christ will come again—and take us to himself, to the place that he has prepared when he gave up his life on the cross.

The way, the truth and the life is speaking to us now.

Believe in God, he says. Believe in me.

Do not let your hearts be troubled. Do not let them be afraid.

Amen.

Meditation on 1 Kings 19:15-16, 19-21

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

Pastor Karen Crawford

June 26, 2022

Link to livestream video

¹⁵ Then the Lord said to him, “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus; when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael as king over Aram. ¹⁶ Also you shall anoint Jehu son of Nimshi as king over Israel, and you shall anoint Elisha son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah as prophet in your place.

⁹ So he set out from there and found Elisha son of Shaphat, who was plowing. There were twelve yoke of oxen ahead of him, and he was with the twelfth. Elijah passed by him and threw his mantle over him. ²⁰ He left the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, “Let me kiss my father and my mother, and then I will follow you.” Then Elijah said to him, “Go back again, for what have I done to you?” ²¹ He returned from following him, took the yoke of oxen, and slaughtered them; using the equipment from the oxen, he boiled their flesh and gave it to the people, and they ate. Then he set out and followed Elijah and became his servant.

What a joy to baptize another precious child of God in our congregation! Welcome, Ariya, our newest member of the church!

We have two more baptisms scheduled, so far, this summer! Isn’t it wonderful? God’s Kingdom is growing, right in our midst.

When I was preparing for this baptism service this week, that familiar scripture from Proverbs came to mind. “Train up a child in the way they should go” —and what’s the rest? “When they are old, they will not depart from it.”

My experience as a mother, teacher, and pastor is that it’s hard work to train a child in the way they should go. Each child has a unique personality and gifts and talents for building the Kingdom that are revealed over time. God has a plan, a vision, a dream for every person—a future filled with hope. This, too, will be revealed over time.

So how do we know how to train up a child before we know the way they should go? I struggled with this question a little bit this week. I’ve decided to answer it as if you asked me personally, “What does it mean to me to be a Christian parent”—because it means different things to different people.

For me, it meant trying to be faithful in my own life and talking about God and God’s love with my kids from an early age. The conversations about God weren’t always planned; they would just happen. When they were little, I prayed with them simple prayers that came to my mind, and I prayed for them—and I still do! It meant reading children’s Bible stories and singing children’s Christian songs and doing the motions.

It did mean bringing them to worship, beginning when they were small, though it was exhausting getting 3 young children ready for church. We didn’t go every week. But we went enough so that they would feel comfortable there.

As I look back at those hectic and emotional years, I remember that being a Christian parent meant just being a normal, flawed person, living in the real, imperfect world. Both parents working long hours, commuting to jobs, and rushing to fit our living into each 24-hour day.

It meant loving my children so much and crying when they were hurt by the world and having honest conversations with God, sharing my hurt, anger, and disappointment. It meant, at times, not feeling that I was good enough or worthy enough for this task. It meant accepting help from family and friends when it was offered.

The one regret that I have is that I wasn’t involved in a small, close-knit church family like First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown. We attended larger churches in the Baltimore Metropolitan area. I never knew any of my pastors personally.

I wish I knew, back then, that it takes a whole faith community to raise a child in the Lord. And that the Church had promised when my children were baptized to support us in our calling to train them up in the way they should go.

So that when they were old, they wouldn’t depart from it.

***

In our passage from 1 Kings today about the call of Elisha, we hear from everyone involved, except for his parents! I find myself longing to hear their voices and their side of the story.

I am longing to hear their dreams for their son. Were they realized? What did training up Elisha in the way he should go look like?

We only learn the name of the father in this brief passage—and it’s repeated, so emphasizing his importance in the raising up of a prophet. I am longing to hear his mother’s name, as well. His father’s name is Shaphat of Abel-meholah. Shaphat is Hebrew for “Judge.”

Obviously, they had raised him in the faith, giving him a name that means “My God is Salvation.” The young man doesn’t hesitate to respond to Elijah’s invitation to follow as his disciple. This makes me wonder if maybe Elisha knew his calling from God before the moment God actually called him.

The town of Abel-meholah, an ancient city west of the Jordan River, became famous as the birthplace and hometown of Elisha the prophet.

Here he is, out working in the fields, honoring and obeying his father, concerned for the well-being of his family. It’s just another ordinary day, until it isn’t.  Elijah lays his mantle, a wide, loose-fitting garment, on his shoulders as he passes by him.

Elisha is ready to respond to the call, with one request. Verse 20—my favorite verse of this passage–says, ^“He left the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, ‘Let me kiss my father and my mother, and then I will follow you.’”

His words reveal that he has been raised in a loving home, and his parents have done a good job training him in the way he should go! Elijah wouldn’t have been led by God to choose Elisha as his helper and successor if they hadn’t taken their calling seriously!

When I read Elijah’s response to the younger, would-be prophet-in- training’s request, tears filled my eyes. This is still verse 20, “Go back again,” the older man says, “for what have I done to you?”  In other words, he is releasing him from the call!

The call of God is never an easy thing, and it is an INVITATION, my friends, not a command!

When Elijah sends Elisha back to his family, I wonder if Elijah is remembering his own goodbye to his parents. Verse 20 allows us to see the strange wilderness prophet in a new light—as a sensitive man and not just God’s warrior who fought the forces of evil Queen Jezebel. Elijah, in this rare moment, reveals that he understands the sacrifice Elisha and his parents will make as this young man answers the call to ministry.

When Elisha burns the yoke and slaughters and cooks the oxen for the people to eat, I think of Christ’s disciples dropping their nets to follow him. They are done with fishing –for fish, that is! And Elisha is no longer a farmer! There’s no turning back.

I cannot help but wonder how the Lord prepared Elijah’s parents for this day when their son would leave for prophetic ministry. Did they and his community of faith recognize his spiritual gifts long ago when he was young? And was the slaughtering of the animals for the people to eat a celebratory feast?

Did they ever, at times, like us, struggle with feelings of unworthiness and doubts and fears –still learning to trust in God’s grace for them and that the Lord would continue to guide their son in the way he should go?

So that when he is old… Well, you know the rest.

***

The mantle won’t actually be worn by Elisha and belong to him until his training for ministry is complete. The two will suddenly be separated by a chariot of fire and horses of fire near the Jordan River. Elijah will be taken up into heaven in a whirlwind. His disciple will look up and cry out, “My father! My father! The chariots and horsemen of Israel!” The mantle will be left behind.

Receiving a double portion of Elijah’s power before the older prophet ascends in the whirlwind, Elisha would go on to perform twice as many miracles as his teacher. He would help soldiers and kings of Israel in the official capacity of “prophet in Israel” for six decades (892–832 BC).

The one remaining question I have is, “Did Elisha ever go home to visit his parents?”

I hope that someone was encouraged by my sharing personal thoughts on Christian parenting—how I’ve struggled and wrestled with feelings of unworthiness. I pray that my flock will take to heart the Church’s responsibility in helping our young families raise their children in the faith. We promise at every baptism!

May you be stirred to say a prayer for a young family this week, and perhaps reach out to a young mother or father with a card or call. Maybe to ask, “How can I help?” 

And to the family of little Ariya, I hope that you will feel emboldened to reach out to us—any of us—whenever you need a friend or a nonjudgmental, listening ear.

As Christ’s followers, we welcome the Spirit’s loving presence in our lives, persistently inviting us to follow and leading us in the way we should go, though the journey may not be easy.

May we never depart from it.

Let us pray.

Holy One of Power and Might, Wisdom and Glory, Goodness and Grace, we thank you for your loving presence in our lives. Help us to hear your voice and feel you leading us to right paths—to the way you desire each of us to go. Help us to trust that in our weakness, you are strong, and your power is revealed. Teach us to be your loving, obedient people, forgiving others as you forgive us, caring for others as you care for us; helping to carry one another’s burdens as you long to carry our burdens for us. Stir us to believe that you are always at work in the hearts and lives of our loved ones, especially our children and grandchildren—and trust in the promise that you will forever and always hold us all in the palm of your hand. In your Son’s name we pray. Amen.

Meditation on Ephesians 5 (Selected verses)

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

June 19, 2022

Link to our Livestream Video from Worship: https://fb.watch/dLnrxPfXJv/

I’ve just recently returned from New Mexico. I am glad to be home. I missed my family and my flock! I was away on continuing education leave, working on a Doctor of Ministry seminar in the arid, high desert of Ghost Ranch. The 21,000-acre retreat center of the Presbyterian Church is near the town of Abiquiu. We stayed in what the Website calls, “simple, rustic housing.”

 The Ranch has an interesting history. Archeologists have uncovered dinosaur bones. Navajos and other tribes lived in the area. Spaniards moved in. Then, “cattle rustlers, wranglers, and dudes.”

Two cattle rustling brothers made up stories about evil spirits to keep people from finding their stolen goods in the box canyon. I think that’s where the Ghost Ranch name came from. Or maybe it was because eventually, one brother killed the other and was caught and hung from a cottonwood tree. We passed the tree on the path to the dining hall for our meals each day.

Georgia O’Keefe was a frequent guest to Ghost Ranch, traveling for the first time there from New York in 1929. The artist who became famous painting skyscrapers would eventually build a house there to paint the “towering rock walls, vivid colors and vast skies.”

The ranch was a gift to the Presbyterian Church in 1955.

My Doctor of Ministry class was called, “Re-enchanting words: Creativity and Imagination in Pastoral Ministry.” We wrote 8 different forms of writing to share in small groups and critique. One was a creative piece of our choice. Many people wrote poems. One wrote a song that we sang in worship one morning.

I wrote a short story about my last day of pastoral ministry with my former congregation. I visited a man in a nursing care center with terminal cancer. He had grown so weak that his wife, a retired nurse, could no longer care for him at home.

He hadn’t been to the church in years. He shared that it wasn’t that he didn’t like me or didn’t like the church. He just wasn’t into all the Jesus stuff—didn’t want to read the Bible or pray or listen to sermons. He didn’t like to sit still! He liked to garden and tinker with fast cars. He loved his family.

He didn’t believe in heaven, he said. The only way he would live on was through the memories of his loved ones. He wanted to spend all his remaining days making memories with his children and grandchildren.

What brought him to church years ago was when his children were involved in the music programs. He attended worship to hear them sing!

***

The apostle Paul knew the importance of music in the lives of believers. Music helps us worship the Lord; it helps us express and teach the faith; and it serves to draw us nearer to God and one another. When Paul and Silas sang hymns in prison, they demonstrated another purpose for sacred music—to bring us comfort in times of trouble and to bear witness to our faith, sharing the hope we have in Jesus Christ with the world.

But maybe you haven’t noticed that Paul often quotes from psalms and hymns of the Early Church in his letters. I hadn’t really thought about it until I was preparing for this special service today, when we give thanks to God for the gift of music and pray for God’s blessing on our musicians.

Many of the fathers of our Reformed tradition recognized the importance of singing in worship, but looked primarily to the Old Testament, especially the book of psalms, rather than the Christian hymns and creeds of the New Testament. John Calvin in 1543 said,

“We know from experience that singing has great strength and power to move and to set on fire the hearts of men in order that they may call upon God and praise Him with a more vehement and more ardent zeal. It is to be remembered always that this singing should not be light or frivolous, but that it ought to have weight and majesty … Now, what Augustine says is true, namely that no one can sing anything worthy of God which he has not received from Him. Therefore, even after we have carefully searched everywhere, we shall not find better or more appropriate songs to this end than the Psalms of David, inspired by the Holy Spirit. And for this reason, when we sing them, we are assured that God puts the words in our mouth, as if He Himself were singing through us to exalt His glory.”

Martin Luther (1483-1546) had a different opinion. Scripture inspired him to write his own original hymns; 30 of them were published in his day. Some are still sung today. We all know, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” with echoes of Psalm 46 and Isaiah 46.

During my research this week, I discovered a pastor’s list of early Christian songs and creeds in the New Testament. He counted four songs in Luke, including Mary’s song; one in Hebrews, 3 in Peter’s letters, 3 in Timothy’s, one in John and two in Paul’s letters to the Philippians and Colossians.

The hymn that Paul quotes from the Early Church in Philippians 2 speaks of the Incarnation, God becoming one of us. But his point is for the church to imitate Christ’s humility and do nothing from “selfish ambition or empty conceit.” He tells the Philippians, ^“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” Then he breaks into song….

“who, though he existed in the form of God,
    did not regard equality with God
    as something to be grasped,
⁷ but emptied himself,
    taking the form of a slave,
    assuming human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a human,
⁸     he humbled himself
    and became obedient to the point of death—
    even death on a cross.

⁹ Therefore God exalted him even more highly
    and gave him the name
    that is above every other name,
¹⁰ so that at the name given to Jesus
    every knee should bend,
    in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
¹¹ and every tongue should confess
    that Jesus Christ is Lord,
    to the glory of God the Father.”

The pastor who made the list of New Testament hymns and creeds didn’t see the fragment from the Early Church’s hymn in today’s passage in Ephesians. I learned about it from a commentary by Markus Barth, son of Karl Barth, the famous Swiss-Calvinist theologian.

Ephesians 5 begins, ^“Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children,” and then Paul quotes from a hymn, ^“and walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

The emphasis is on Christ giving himself for us, for love for us. This gracious gift has brought us peace with God and one another. Ephesians tells us that in Christ, the Lord has broken down all the dividing walls of hostility that human beings build up. Letting go of the sins of the past, we are freed to walk in love—the kind of self-giving love that Christ has revealed through the cross. We are freed to lead a life “worthy of the calling to which we have been called.” We are filled and empowered by the Spirit to live a life of love and gratitude—singing hymns, psalms, and spiritual songs to one another. Making melody to the Lord in our hearts.

***

Today, on Father’s Day, I am thinking of the gentleman I visited on my last day of pastoral ministry with my former congregation. I hope and pray that he is enjoying his family and making memories. And that the seeds of faith sown by his children, years ago, singing hymns and spiritual songs in church, will take root and grow in his heart.

I am also thinking of my own father, wishing he was still with us to make memories. Are any of you missing fathers who have passed away? This is our third Father’s Day without him, and it still feels strange.

I thank God for the memory of my father’s voice—both his speaking voice and singing voice. I remembered this week how he used to sing Christmas carols as I played the piano when I was young.

In the short time I have been with you, I have come to know members of our choirs and our music director. I pray that this service will help to show our appreciation for you and encourage you to keep on singing and leading us to sing and make melody in our hearts to the Lord.

We thank God for you!

Please continue to help us, through our music, to grow in faith, gratitude, understanding, and loving relationships with one another and the Lord.

May God richly bless you in your ministry.

Let us pray.

Loving, Creator God, thank you for your love and the gracious gift of Jesus Christ, who is our peace. We praise you for the gift of music in the church and the Spirit that empowers us to make melody in our hearts to you. Fill us with gratitude that moves us to give thanks to you, at all times. For everything. Bless those with special musical gifts as they seek to grow our faith and understanding and help us bear witness to your love and grace through our song. In the name of our Triune God we pray. Amen.