Pastor Karen Crawford
March 31, 2022
What Lies Ahead?
Meditation on Philippians 3:4b-14
Fifth Sunday in Lent
The Presbyterian Church, Coshocton, OH
Pastor Karen Crawford
Link to recording of the live-streamed service: https://fb.watch/c9Lo6AbNTo/
I have been having interesting conversations with some of my Christian friends, since I announced that I have accepted a new call. The one thing that comes up repeatedly is my feeling of things being out of my control. One friend laughs when I say that. That things feel out of control. We are never in control, not really, when we are following Christ. Our lives are not our own! We belong to him.
We struggle to surrender all of ourselves to the Lord.
I was inspired by a story of a widow’s faith this week. She lives in Central Europe in the city of Prague, in the Czech Republic. She says, “In my lifetime, I have experienced the rule of two totalitarian regimes. One was the German Nazis. The second was the Russian communists. The Word of God says 366 times, “Do not be afraid. Do not fear.”
“After 40 years of Communism here and the fact that many believers left the country, the Czech Republic has been called the ‘most atheist place in Europe.’ It breaks my heart.
“My name is Ludmilla. I am 82 years old. I have 7 grandchildren and 5 great grandchildren. My husband went to heaven in 2002. The Lord Jesus told me that now he is my husband, and he wants to continue to use me. He wants me to be his representative, his ambassador.
“Next to the door of my house, there is a bronze sign that says, ‘The Embassy of the Kingdom of Heaven.’ My home is an extension of Christ’s Kingdom. It’s a place where people can come and look for help if they are in trouble or have a need. The Bible says the Kingdom of Heaven is joy and peace in the Holy Spirit. That is the atmosphere I want here at the Embassy.
“The visitors that I get, some of them have called ahead to let me know they’re coming. And some just come. The ones that haven’t called are usually the best ones because I’m not prepared for them. Everything that happens dependent on the Lord. …
“Whenever people enter this house, I just lay everything else aside and spend time with them. I have learned to recognize the inner voice of the Holy Spirit and give Him room to use me.”
Ludmilla never worries about tomorrow. She has a purpose for every day. Forgetting what lies behind, and not dwelling too long in the memories—happy and sad—she strains forward to what lies ahead—serving Christ with joy until she is with her Savior, face to face.
Paul was on his second missionary journey when he had a vision of a man who pleaded with him, saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” Macedonia is the northern region of modern-day Greece. The apostle obeys the Spirit and begins his European ministry in Philippi, a Roman colony in Macedonia. His first ministry encounter is not with the man of his vision, but a woman named Lydia. She is a God-fearer—someone who wasn’t born Jewish but came to believe in the God worshiped by the Jewish people and lived as if she were Jewish. Acts 16 tells us that because of the lack of a synagogue in the city, a group of God-fearing women meet by the river on the Sabbath for prayer.
Lydia is a merchant of luxury textiles made of purple, a costly dye derived from shellfish. Paul sees this group of women gathered for prayer on the Sabbath, and he, Silas, Timothy, and Luke join them by the riverside. Paul shares about Jesus with them. Acts 16:14-15 says, “The Lord opened (Lydia’s) heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul.”
Afterward, she and her household are baptized and she urges Paul, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home.”
Paul, Silas, Timothy, and Luke are persuaded to stay for some time with Lydia. Since no husband is mentioned, we assume Lydia is widowed or divorced, as divorce was easy and common under Roman law.
As we study this passage, I hope you will imagine the Philippian Church’s humble beginnings in Lydia’s home. She would be forever remembered as the first documented convert to Christianity in Europe. I would like you also to consider Paul’s situation and frame of mind as he writes this letter, years later, from prison, perhaps in Rome or Ephesus—and how the years would have grown their friendship and his love for the congregation.
Being in prison for defending the gospel makes him bolder to preach the gospel. He talks about Jesus with everyone, not only to his fellow prisoners, but to the “whole imperial guard.” In prison, he has plenty of time to pray, write, and think about his own life—mistakes he’s made, wrong paths he has taken, and how God has used him, anyway. Remember his dramatic conversion on the road to Damascus? Paul never forgets that he was once an enemy of Christ and his followers.
Prayer and honest self-examination lead to an incredible conclusion about his life—before and after knowing Jesus. He says,
Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ. More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ.”
The apostle is worried about the Philippians, concerned that without him to guide and protect them, they might be led by others to turn back to some of the ways of Judaism they left behind. In particular, he is worried that they will go back to circumcision, which he sees as a kind of works’ righteousness. He wants all people—Jews and Gentiles—to come to know the love and grace of the Lord and the life-changing power of his resurrection that Paul has experienced.
Nothing else matters, now that everything Paul formerly valued in his life has essentially been taken away— except for his faith and his voice to proclaim it. He chooses bold action and holds onto one thing, he says, and urges the church of every age to do the same: Forget what lies behind. Strain forward to what lies ahead. Press on toward the goal of the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.
Dear friends, I hope you are inspired by the faith of Lydia and Paul and Ludmilla, who opens her home to anyone in trouble, anyone in need. Some call ahead but others just come, which is better, she says, because then she isn’t ready for them—and whatever happens fully depends on God.
Brothers and sisters, may we be empowered to press on. Forgetting what lies behind. Straining forward to what lies ahead. And what is it that lies ahead?
The Lord wants us to see beyond our immediate concerns and circumstances and look to the future. We have an eternity with our Savior, drawing others closer to him, seeking to know him and the power of his resurrection, more and more. Let us make the most of our days.
May we, each of us, be stirred to surrender ourselves and our lives to the will of God—leaning not on our own understanding, as Proverbs teaches us. But in all our ways acknowledge him, so that he may direct our paths. May we learn to recognize the inner voice of the Holy Spirit and give God room to use us, like he used Paul, Lydia, and Ludmilla in Prague.
“The Holy Spirit likes to take control,” she says. “Often, I listen to myself, and I say things I wouldn’t even think about. There is no problem to deal with the issues that people bring when they come here because the Holy Spirit is here. It’s an honor for me to be an instrument of God’s love and his wisdom every day. We often don’t realize that all believers are called to be representatives of the Kingdom of Heaven.
“We are all ambassadors,” she says, quoting Paul in 2 Corinthians. “The Lord Jesus didn’t choose to do it any other way. He simply entrusted us.”
Let us pray.
Holy One, we want to know you more and the power of your Son’s resurrection to change our lives today. Thank you for entrusting us with your good news, calling us to be your ambassadors for Christ, inviting the whole world to be reconciled with you. May we be like Paul and other faithful followers, such as Ludmilla in the Czech Republic, trusting you to complete a good work in and with us. Help us to hear the inner voice of your Holy Spirit so that we may know your wisdom and your will. Strengthen us to fear not for tomorrow or dwell too long in the memories of yesterday. Move us to press on to what lies ahead and see beyond our present circumstances, giving you room to use us for your eternal purposes, more and more. In Christ we pray. Amen.
You Are Found
Meditation on Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
Pastor Karen Crawford
March 27, 2022
Link to Recording of our Livestreamed service with message: https://fb.watch/c0uARezgZc/
Some of you already know why our household is in chaos. Jim brought home a puppy on Friday. Rory is a poodle. His little round body is covered with soft, golden/reddish curls.
Some of you have asked, “How are the cats getting along with the puppy?”
Well, it’s going to take some time for them to get used to each other.
This is what Liam looked like yesterday when he saw the puppy coming near him.
He was making low growling sounds in his throat.
What does the puppy think about the cats? He wants to play with them or cuddle up with them, like he does with Jim and me. Kind of reminds me of Garfield and Odie. Odie looks at Garfield and Garfield says, “Go away, Odie, you bother me.”Two panels pass by with nothing happening. And then in the fourth panel, Odie is hugging Garfield. And the cat is saying, “I guess I asked for that.”
Liam seems to be more demanding of my attention, biting my fingers when I am typing, constantly trying to climb in my lap. He’s feeling insecure, wondering why I pay any attention to that other horrible creature Jim brought home.
He’s worried that he might lose his status in the household—if he is still my favorite fur creature. He is!
***
The Prodigal Son in the gospel of Luke is one of Christ’s most powerful parables. We can all identify with the characters and this ancient story because we all live in families and every family has its troubles.
It’s easy to get caught up in the details without staying focused on why Jesus tells this story. This is Christ’s answer to a complaint by the Pharisees and the scribes who say, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” They say this right after they see all the tax collectors and sinners coming near to listen to him. He isn’t just eating with the outcasts and scoundrels of their society. He is empowering them with God’s love and forgiveness for them.
The purpose of the story is to teach the Pharisees, scribes, and disciples of Jesus in every time about the lavish and outrageous love of God for sinners—all people, even the ones whom we might find difficult to like, let alone love.
Here are a few key points from the parable.
- Don’t miss the part about the younger son demanding his inheritance from his father while living. This is the most insulting and hurtful thing for a son in that culture to do. Essentially, he is saying that he wants his father dead!
- The prodigal spends the inheritance on what would bring shame to himself and his family. I looked up “dissolute living” and found this definition, “living in a way that other people strongly disapprove of.” So, we can use our imagination.
- When all the money runs out, AND there’s a famine in the land and the whole country is plunged into an economic and humanitarian crisis, this may be the first time this man has ever had to go without and find a job. Verse 14 says, “he began to be in need.” Living in a foreign country, he wouldn’t be eligible for any of the benefits of citizens. He hires himself out for the only job open to him—feeding pigs. He’s Jewish and he’s feeding pigs! He has left both family and faith behind and is living as a Gentile, which would have been the most sinful thing anyone could do, in the eyes of the Pharisees and scribes.
- Finally, he has a moment of clarity. His father’s hired hands have bread to spare and are eating better than he is working for Gentiles. In fact, the pigs are eating better than he is.
Whether he actually feels remorse for what he is done is debatable. Does he really have a change of heart? For he even rehearses what he is going to say to his father when he gets home, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”
Verse 17 says, “When he came to himself,” as if he finally remembered who he was—his family and the life he threw away. Maybe he does have a moment of regret for the terrible choices he has made. Or maybe he realizes how lost he really is. How far from home he has gone.
When I say home, I mean it on a spiritual level—more than just a place to live. You follow me?
Theologian Henri Nouwen writes in The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming, “leaving home is, then, much more than an historical event bound to a time and place. It is a denial of the spiritual reality that I belong to God with every part of my being, that God holds me safe in an eternal embrace, that I am indeed carved in the palms of God’s hands and hidden in their shadows. Leaving home means ignoring the truth that God has ‘fashioned me in secret, moulded me in the depths of the earth and knitted me together in my mother’s womb.’ Leaving home is living as though I do not yet have a home and must look far and wide to find one.” (37)
Psalm 90 verse 1 assures us: “Lord, through all the generations you have been our home.” And Jesus says in John 14:23, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.”
***
Whenever we hear this parable, we can’t help but see ourselves. Many of Christ’s followers, who have grown up in the church, can’t remember a time when they didn’t identity as Christians. They may see themselves as the older son who is shocked and bitter when the younger son returns and is not only welcomed but is celebrated by the entire community. The older son of the story seems jealous and resentful—perhaps worried that he has lost his favored status in the household.
Those of us who have had more dramatic conversion experiences understand exactly what the writer of Amazing Grace was talking about when we sing,“I once was lost, but now I’m found. Was blind and now I see.” We are the prodigals who are grateful every single day that we serve a God who will never stop running out to greet us with open arms and welcome us home.
Nouwen had a surprising vision of the true prodigal son while he was meditating on the Rembrandt painting, The Return of the Prodigal Son. He was Jesus!
Nouwen says. “He left the house of his Heavenly Father, came to a foreign country, gave away all that he had, and returned through his cross to his Father’s home. All of this he did, not as a rebellious son, but as the obedient son, sent out to bring home all the lost children of God. Jesus, who told the story to those who criticized him for associating with sinners, himself lived the long and painful journey that he describes….
Isn’t the broken young man kneeling before his father ‘the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world?’ Isn’t he the innocent one who became sin for us? Isn’t he the one who didn’t ‘cling to his equality with God, but as human beings are? Isn’t he the Son of God who cried out on the cross, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ Jesus is the prodigal son of the prodigal Father who gave away everything the Father had entrusted to him so that I could become like him and return with him to his Father’s house.” – Henri Nouwen (55-56)
I believe the most important message of the Prodigal Son is that God loves both sons—the elder and the younger. He doesn’t hold any of their sins against them. God loved the Pharisees and the scribes as much as he loved the outcasts and scoundrels with whom Jesus was always eating and drinking.
***
Friends, I find myself struggling for the right words to share with you some important news. I will follow up with a letter so that everyone in the church knows what’s going on.
I have accepted a new call to ministry. I will be here with you through Easter. I will be serving, as of May 1, a Presbyterian congregation in New York where we will be closer to family. Jim and I have made this decision carefully and prayerfully, considering our needs of this season of our lives—and anticipating seasons to come.
I have loved serving as your pastor. I am happy here. You have brought me joy and peace. I will always cherish our friendship. I will remember you. I won’t forget!
We will have time for personal goodbyes. We will take time to grieve together—and encourage one another. I will continue to pray for you, that the Holy Spirit would guide, protect and bless you when I am not with you in person. And that the Lord would provide for all our needs.
We still have time to make memories together, share stories, dream dreams, sing, laugh, hug, eat, pray, and break bread at the Lord’s Table. I will keep on sharing the gospel with you and telling you the stories of God.
The Prodigal Son teaches us that every day, we have choices to make. One choice can lead to another, so make it a good one! Things don’t just happen randomly, and they don’t happen to passive people who just sit back—like Ron Geese taught us. We aren’t called to be spectators or commentators. We are to be sweet taters, showing our love for God and neighbor and revealing the Kingdom of God with kindness!
And if we wander to a far-off country in thought, word or deed and somehow forget our gratitude for all God has done and the many promises in His Word, let us be reminded that God loves the elder and the younger son. God loves everyone.
Come home, beloved ones!
Every day is a new day, with God’s mercies new every morning. Every day, every moment, we have another chance to come to ourselves—realize that we are new Creations in Jesus Christ—and take another step forward, trusting in him. Clinging to him!
No matter where we go, we will always have a home. For God has come to make his home with us—and we with him.
You are NOT lost. For this fellow named Jesus came to welcome sinners and eat with them and give his life for all.
You are found!
Let us pray.
Heavenly Father, thank you for the hope we find in the Parable of the Prodigal Son, hope for your love and forgiveness, just the way we are, because of what you have done for us in Jesus Christ. We welcome you to come and make your home with us and we with you. Comfort us in our grief. Help us to always see the good in what happens in our lives—and to know your will. Keep us walking the path you want us to take, but if we ever wander off to a far country, please guide our hearts and minds back home again. Be with us always, Lord, as you promise. In the name of Your Son, our Savior, we pray. Amen.
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As a Hen Gathers Her Brood
Meditation on Luke 13: 31-35
Second Sunday in Lent
Pastor Karen Crawford
March 13, 2022
Link to a recording of our live-streamed service: https://www.facebook.com/100000229089156/videos/514925946927120/
I almost didn’t have a message to share with you this morning. Almost. You see, I met a little boy named Graham at the reception following the celebration of life for Louise Mickelson here yesterday. Graham shared his Legos with me, told me how much he loves THIS church, and how he goes to school in a CHURCH (it’s preschool).
And he shared his Ritz Bits peanut butter crackers with me.
I told him how there’s a lady in our church who dips Ritz Bits peanut butter crackers in chocolate—making delicious candy out of them. His eyes grew wide as he popped another cracker in his mouth and asked me if I wanted some more.
“Thank you,” I said, and helped myself.
“Maybe you want to come back later,” Graham said, taking in the room with a wave of his hand, “and have another one.”
I promised I would—after I visited with other family members at the reception. And I did. But eventually, the time came to say goodbye.
I kneeled down, looked into his eyes, and said, “It’s been wonderful meeting you and your family, Graham. I gotta go now.”
“Why?” he said. I had to think for a minute how to answer. Not just because a 4-year-old didn’t need to know that I was going to write a sermon, but because what he was really saying was that he didn’t want me to go.
I didn’t want to go, either.
Finally, I said, “I have to work. But stay and play as long as you want. Come back and visit, any time. And if you need anything at all, just ask for Karen.”
As I said my goodbyes to the family, they thanked me for being generous with my time with them. It was my pleasure, I assured them. As I packed up my things, I thought about what Jesus would do. Remember that saying from years back? People used to have bracelets with WWJD? I know that he would hang out with the family and eat and drink. They always accused him of eating and drinking with sinners too much! He would visit with the children—remember how angry he got with his disciples when they tried to keep the children away from him? And that he would be present with those grieving the loss of their loved one, just as Jesus is and has always been present with us and wants to comfort us when we are hurting in mind, body or spirit.
The Son of Man, who held children in his lap and touched sick people to heal them, wouldn’t be worrying if he had left himself enough time to compose his Sermon on the Mount.
***
In today’s gospel lesson in the 13th chapter of Luke, we have the familiar, homey images from his world that Jesus often uses to communicate his messages. We have Herod the fox, Jesus as the hen with her brood of chicks—the children of God—and the Holy City of Jerusalem, which he calls a house.
This Herod is Antipas, whose father was Herod the Great. I promise there won’t be a quiz on this at the end of the service. Did you know there are 6 different Herods in the Bible? And all of them, according to a Bible scholar named James Howell, are “pretty much the same guy: a petty tyrant with a touch of megalomania, paranoid, callous, in cahoots with the Romans, religious but in a conniving way, rich and often cruel.”
As I am reading about Antipas, I can’t help but think of a ruler in this world right now who could be described in similar terms. We watch with horror and helplessness the daily scenes of war on cable news.
I do a doubletake when I read how the Pharisees tell Jesus, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” Why would the Pharisees, who are often cast as enemies of Jesus, be concerned about his well-being and warn him to get away? And then I think, “Oh.” For the mere presence of Jesus, a grave threat to Herod’s rule because of his popularity with the people and his power to heal, would put the Pharisees in danger, if they appear to be associating with him.
The Pharisees are really saying, “Get out of here before you get us all killed!”
I marvel at how Jesus responds to a real threat of danger from this puppet king of the empire. He is saying, essentially, “Don’t bother me. Don’t WASTE my time! I’m busy doing what God has sent me to do.” Beginning at verse 32, Jesus says, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work.’”
What is he talking about with the third day? Yes, he is foreshadowing his resurrection from the dead—when the work of our salvation is complete.
He goes on, “Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’”
It isn’t impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem—but he is referring to himself and his own fate. He knows what is to come, and where it will and won’t take place.
He isn’t angry. He isn’t afraid. And he isn’t playing it safe, looking out for number one—like the Pharisees are. He is focused on what he came to do—heal the sick and cast out demons—put evil in its place.
He is filled with sorrow for Jerusalem—for the corruption and greed of its religious leaders, who are also wealthy puppets of the empire. The Holy City has become, in the words of Jesus, “the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!”
He speaks the name of the city three times in a row, showing increasing emotion for the city that will reject him. Jerusalem. Jerusalem, Jerusalem. “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”
With Jesus comparing himself to a bird longing to protect her young, he echoes the psalmist’s description of the Lord God’s love for His children in 91:4: “Like a bird protecting its young, God will cover you with His feathers, will protect you under His great wings; His faithfulness will form a shield around you, a rock-solid wall to protect you.”
“See, your house is left to you,” Jesus continues in his lament for the beloved city. He speaks of his final entry into Jerusalem on the foal of a donkey, a passage that we read on Palm Sunday, and will read in a few weeks, when he says, “And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’”
***
Friends, as we continue our Lenten journey to the cross, I am reminded of my Ash Wednesday message on the importance of our taking time to grow in friendship with God and one another. Taking time to grow in friendship. The two funerals this week—one in New York for Jim’s sister, Mary, and the other here for Louise Mickelson—also remind me of one of the most valuable things we have in our life to use for God’s glory—and that’s our time!
And I have to say this one thing about you. I am so proud of my church! I am so proud of you! Yesterday, a number of you came to the calling hours and service for Louise. The family was moved to tears that the church remembered Bob and Louise—and came to show their love.
Today, on this Second Sunday in Lent, I am stirred to encourage you to be intentional about how you spend your time for the remainder of this holy season. Make plans, but be open to the Spirit to change your plans to fulfill God’s will for your life.
Remember to make the most of these days—seeking to grow in faith, hope, and love.
The time I spent with Louise’s family yesterday, including little Graham and his Ritz Bits at the reception, were as important and healing for the family and me as anything else I could have been doing.
I invite you to follow the example of our Savior, Jesus Christ, who did what God sent him to do, without fear of the tyrant, Herod Antipas. He came to heal the sick, cast out demons. And on the third day, his work for our salvation was done.
Let us imitate Christ in his lament for the things that break God’s heart—for the cruel tyrants in the ancient world and in our world today. Dear friends, lean into the sadness, outrage, and compassion that God has placed in your heart. Pray for peace, protection, and rescue for the ones whom God so loves, especially the women and children in harm’s way.
Our gathering prayer from yesterday’s celebration of life is my new prayer for us in this Holy Season. May we live courageously as we seek to serve God with all of ourselves and more of our time. May we live as the people of eternity, not just concerned with the things of this world. May we be the people of resurrection, who know that death doesn’t have the final word.
This is the God who longs to draw us to himself in a loving embrace, protecting us from harm.
As a hen gathers her brood under her wings.
Let us pray.
O God, who gave us birth, you are ever more ready to hear than we are to pray. You know our needs before we ask, and our ignorance in asking. Show us now your grace, that as we face the mystery of death we may see the light of eternity. Speak to us once more your solemn message of life and of death. Help us to live as those who are prepared to die. And when our days here are ended, enable us to die as those who go forth to live, so that living or dying, our life may be in Jesus Christ our risen Lord. Amen.
Meditation on John 14:1-6, 25-27
March 12, 2022
Pastor Karen Crawford
The Presbyterian Church, Coshocton, OH
In Memory of Margaret Louise Mickelson
April 3, 1927 – February 18, 2022
Bob and Louise met in Louise’s hometown of Cambridge, Ohio. Bob had come there from Albert Lea, MN, to work as a metallurgist. Louise was a telephone operator for AT&T. That was back in the days when you could actually talk to a real person—and not a computer-simulated voice. Bob and Louise were married in a Lutheran church in Cambridge in 1957. The first time they met was at a couple’s gathering in someone’s home. The second time they saw each other was at a local dance place called the Casa Loma, on route 40, just outside of Cambridge.
“She seemed more quiet than other women,” Bob says. “There was nothing loud or rough about her.”
They had 3 children—two girls, Bev and Linda, and a boy, Steve. Throughout their childhood, adolescence and adulthood, Louise never stopped being interested in everything they were doing.
The family moved away from Ohio briefly for Bob’s work, but then moved back in 1969 to be closer to Louise’s parents. Bob found work at Clow’s in Coshocton and the family made their home on Knob Hill Road where Linda, Pete, and their son, Eric, make their home today. As living out their faith has always been a priority for Bob and Louise, they became active members of the Presbyterian Church in 1970. They never missed worship, and the children never missed Sunday school, even if they were at a sleepover on Saturday night.
Louise was active with Presbyterian Women and Prayer Fellowship and enjoyed helping with food for funeral receptions. She was ordained a deacon in 1979, serving with her gifts of compassion—visiting people, writing cards, making calls, delivering flowers, and taking people to doctor’s appointments. She was also active in Trirosis and volunteered as a Pink Lady, working in the gift shop at Coshocton Hospital.
She had a warm, welcoming personality. For years, she enjoyed hosting other couples for bridge games at their home. She enjoyed feeding people, Bob says, and was a good cook, sometimes making Syrian dishes that she remembered from childhood. She loved gardening with flowers. She grew geraniums that wintered inside their home in containers and replanted them outside in the spring.
Her family always came first. She didn’t take a job until her youngest daughter, Linda, was in 4th grade, and then it was just part time. People in the community remember Louise from her years as a tour guide for the Johnson-Humrickhouse Museum and her 14 years working as a library aide at Washington Elementary School. Bob says that people would approach him and Louise while they were eating in restaurants, wanting to tell her how they remembered her reading them stories when they were children.
While Bev was showing me pictures of their mom, she said it was difficult to find any of Louise alone. She was often holding a baby or small child, grandchild or great grandchild. She was always smiling. She had a kind, gentle spirit and was often concerned for family and friends. She was a worrier—that’s how she showed that she cared.
The family agree that she had her opinions and was comfortable expressing them, but the way she influenced her husband and children, Bob says, was by example, rather than preaching a sermon. She was “a fine wife.” To describe her in one word, he says, it would be “love.”
They would have celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary in June.
They were partners, always together. When her health declined, she was able to stay in independent living with support at Willow Brook in Delaware, OH. Then, the pandemic hit, and she began to struggle more with dementia, and the family wasn’t allowed to go in the building anymore. Bob made the decision to go with her to memory care at Kemper House of Worthington so she wouldn’t go alone.
She slipped away peacefully in the early morning hours of Feb. 18.
Bob said, “She’s in a better place.”
Their love story and desire to always be together reminds me very much of the love of Jesus for his disciples—and their love for him. In the gospel of John, Jesus is saying a long goodbye, telling them not to worry about him and not to grieve, because their separation won’t be forever. Do not let your hearts be troubled, he says. “Believe in God. Believe in me.”
He tries to tell them what it’s like—where he’s going, when he goes home to be with the Father. He says, “In my Father’s house, there’s many rooms—or dwelling places.” In other words, there’s plenty of space for everyone where Jesus is going. But we can’t go there on our own. We need Jesus to go there for us, ahead of us. He is our mediator and the source of our faith and salvation. He is the first one to return to the Father, making peace between God and human beings through the cross and empty tomb—his sacrifice for the sake of the world God so loves. Jesus says, “If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?”
The words are lost on his disciples, though they have been with him a long time—watching all his miracles, helping to feed the multitude, walking and talking with him, and sitting at his feet while he teaches. But their grief doesn’t allow his words to sink in. Jesus is leaving them! That’s all they hear him saying when Jesus reminds them that they know the way to where he is going. He’s not really talking about an actual road, friends, or a bricks and mortar place. But they are creatures of the earth and that’s what they are thinking.
Thomas bursts out, “But we don’t know the way! How can we know the way?”
Jesus is talking about a way of life, following in his footsteps, obeying God, imitating his loving, self- giving example, serving others with our gifts and talents. He says, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”
The disciples remain confused by Jesus’ last words. Only much later—with the resurrection appearances, and the arrival of the Spirit that empowers them to do God’s will—that’s when Jesus’ reassuring words and instructions begin to make sense. Thomas will be the one who needs to see the marks of the nails on Christ’s hands and touch the wounds of the risen Christ in order to believe in him—and the promise of our resurrection with him.
And friends, he’s just like us. We all need reassurance. Especially when our loved ones are no longer with us—loved ones who have shared our life and have made us who we are today—because of their love, support, and example—preaching not by words but through their acts of lovingkindness.
What touched my heart the most in the story Louise’s family shared with me was how they were not able to go inside the building during the worst months of the pandemic to visit Bob and Louise. The children and grandchildren would come and stand outside Bob and Louise’s room and visit through an open window, in spite of cold, rain, and snow.
Love found a way to be together!
Friends, Christ is the way, the truth, and the life—for you, for me, for everyone. The Son has prepared a place for all who will believe, in every time and place. Louise and the Great Cloud of Witnesses are all cheering us on, urging us to keep on running the race of faith. Don’t give up hope! Don’t be discouraged. Hold onto your faith.
Believe in God. Believe in the Son. Believe in the Spirit that helps us with every step we take. Remember, as the Apostle Paul tells us, that we are never separated from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. With us now, he is coming again in glory to take us to the place that he has prepared for us. So that where he is, we may be also.
Love has found a way!
Amen.
Link to obituary: https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/coshocton-oh/louise-mickelson-10595525
E-News with The Presbyterian Church
The Wordless Place
Meditation on Luke 4:1-13
Pastor Karen Crawford, Coshocton, OH
First Sunday in Lent: March 6, 2022
Link to recording of live-streamed worship service: https://fb.watch/bAMNWMdEP5/
Bulletin:
We had sad news on Friday. Jim and I learned that his older sister, Mary, had gone home to be with the Lord. She was 87. Her death was sudden and caught the family by surprise. We are never ready to let go of our loved ones, are we?
Mary’s life changed quickly with the death of her husband, Chuck, of 58 years on Feb. 25, 2017. With her dementia, she couldn’t live alone. She needed others to care for her and watch over her. The house in Pelham Manor, New York, that she had lived in with Chuck since 1970 and had raised their two sons, Scott and Kenny, had to be sold. Her sons had to find a place where she could live comfortably and safely and be adequately cared for—and where they could visit her regularly with their families.
I can’t imagine what it must have been like for Mary—to lose her husband and her home, just like that, and her with dementia, not understanding where she was or why things were the way they were. I can imagine how hard it was for her sons and daughter-in-law, worrying about her, visiting her and comforting her in her distress.
It must have been a wilderness experience for them all, at least in the first few years of Mary getting used to living apart from Chuck—a time of testing, anxiety and uncertainty of the future, but also a time when they loved each other, showed grace for one another and learned to trust in a good and tenderhearted God.
For he is with us in every wilderness season of our lives.
***
Not long after Jesus begins his public ministry with his baptism by John in the Jordan River, he is led by the Spirit to go and live in the wilderness for 40 days. He is there partly to connect with the stories of God’s people, such as those who wandered in the wilderness for 40 years after fleeing captivity in Egypt. Moses says in Deut. 8:2 that the wilderness experience of wandering and testing was “to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commandments.” The wilderness for the Israelites is a “place of salvation and confirmation of Israel’s status as God’s people,” (Shively T.J. Smith.) but also a place that stirs worry and doubt.
We hear echoes of Elijah’s story in Christ’s wilderness experience, as well. Elijah in 1 Kings 19 is weary from battle for the Lord when he fasts for 40 days in the wilderness, after being fed by an angel and before hearing the voice of God on Mount Horeb—not in the wind or the earthquake, and not in the fire, but in the stillness, in the silence.
The primary reason Jesus has come to the wilderness is to be tested and prepared for his ministry of healing and casting out demons and preaching truth to power, peace and justice for the oppressed, and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom to the poor. The wilderness for Jesus, who will be the Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world, will strengthen him to be perfectly obedient to God —all the way to the cross.
It may be difficult for those of us living in a lush, green, forested environment to envision the dry, rugged, mountain terrain of the Judean wilderness where Jesus wandered and prayed, taking shelter in caves.
He is famished after 40 days without any food, so it isn’t a surprise that the first of the devil’s temptations is the offer of a loaf of bread.
Adam Hamilton, in our Lenten study, The Way: Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus, says food is among our basic needs, “but the desire for it can at times be our undoing.” He takes us back to Adam and Eve, falling to the temptation to eat the apple from the one tree in the garden of which God told them not to eat. We remember Esau, who, when he was hungry, was willing to sell his birthright to his twin brother, Jacob, for a bowl of stew. And we recall the Israelites, who were willing to return to slavery if only they could eat cucumbers and leeks, rather than manna, the daily bread from heaven that kept them alive! We don’t always want what is good for us, do we?
It helped me to connect with the wilderness experience to learn that one of the Hebrew words for wilderness may be more literally translated a “wordless place.” Pastor Jennifer Moland-Kovash writes in Christian Century, “While maybe at times in our lives we might clamor for some peace and quiet, this wordless wilderness has a frightening landscape that whispers from the shadows, ‘You’re all alone.’” (18)
Friends, the greatest temptation of all in the wilderness for us may be the fear that we are all alone in our struggle!
Luke is the only gospel to make it clear that Jesus was NEVER alone in this time of testing. Luke portrays Jesus as being LED by the Spirit into the wilderness, while Matthew and Mark say Jesus was DRIVEN by the Spirit into the wilderness. The difference here in Luke is that the Spirit that led him into the wilderness would also stay with him and help him through it all.
This place of testing that is translated a “wordless place,” wasn’t actually wordless, at all. In response to each of the devil’s temptations, Jesus speaks the Word of God. To the temptation to turn a stone into a loaf of bread, Jesus says, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’”
To the temptation to bow down to the devil so that Jesus will have authority over the kingdoms of this world, he answers: “It is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’” To the temptation to throw himself down from the pinnacle of the temple to prove that he is the Son of God when the angels protect and rescue him, Jesus answers, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”
The passage ends with the devil leaving, for now. He’ll be back. He is waiting for an “opportune time.”
***.
Jim and I, while grieving our loss of Mary, are looking forward to time with our extended family later this week. We are making a quick trip to New York for Mary’s wake and funeral on Wednesday and Thursday. It is easier to carry the burden of grief when it is shared by family and friends—and when we worship the Lord together, witness to the Resurrection, and give thanks for the gift of her life.
Thank you for your prayers for Jim and our family, especially Mary’s sons, Scott and Kenny, daughter-in-law, Shelagh, and grandchildren, Molly and Jack.
The account of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness that is in Matthew, Mark, and Luke is meant to encourage us! We are not alone in our struggles. We are never alone! We have nothing to fear, even if the accuser does come along and whisper in our ear at an opportune time—when we are vulnerable. Jesus Christ has already conquered sin and death when he rose from the grave!
Remember that the wilderness has a godly purpose, though we might not understand it at the time. This wild place of questions, fears, doubts and temptations, sorrow and pain, is part of our story. It’s part of our journey! But it’s not the end! Don’t hide your struggle from the One who is shaping and forming you for the future God has ordained. For we who were baptized in Christ are co-laborers with him in his ministry of healing, peace, and the reconciliation of the world.
Do not be afraid. We have the same Spirit that led and stayed with Jesus in and through his wilderness. And it’s never a “wordless place.” For we have the Word of God to strengthen and guide us. And the Lord is with us in every wilderness season of our lives!
Let us pray.
God of our wilderness, thank you for your Son, Jesus, your Living Word, who shows us the way to walk through times of testing and tempting as he prepared for his ministry. Thank you for the power of the Spirit that led him and stayed with him to help him in the wilderness and leads us and stays with us in our times of struggle. Help us to co-labor with Christ and be a force of goodness and light in this hurting world, working for healing, peace, and reconciliation. Grow our faith, Lord. Teach us to trust in you in every wilderness season of our lives. In the name of our Triune God we pray. Amen.
Our Father Who Sees in Secret
Meditation on Matthew 6:1–6, 16–21
Pastor Karen Crawford
The Presbyterian Church, Coshocton, OH
Ash Wednesday, March 2, 2022
Link to livestreamed video of our Ash Wednesday service: https://youtu.be/_2qcnavvrss
After hearing our gospel lesson, you might wonder how Jesus would feel about our smudging our foreheads with ash on Ash Wednesday. Is it a public practice of our piety to show off our holiness, like the hypocrites Jesus talks about? The answer is no, not if you understand the symbolism. With this smudge of ash, we are “proclaiming to the world a radical truth: we know that we are dust. Holy and beloved, but dust all the same. That’s where we are all headed together: back to dust.” (Jennifer Moland-Kovash, Christian Century) When we trace the shape of a cross in the ash on our foreheads, it is a humble confession by the children of the dust of our need for God and the salvation he offers through his Son, Jesus Christ.
Ash Wednesday is one of my favorite services of the church year—for its intimacy and honesty. We are encouraged to come, truly, just as we are and received God’s grace. It’s when we take a pause from our ridiculously busy lives to spend time with God and one another, simply and quietly. We come to worship and remember to whom we belong—in life and in death—that we are always safe in the palm of the Master’s hand. In worship, “we confess and remember that this, too, shall pass: this day, this season of our lives, this struggle, this joy, this heartache. All of this will end, and we will return to the dust from which we were made.” (Jennifer Moland-Kovash, Christian Century).
This year, in our gospel lesson in Matthew that we read every Ash Wednesday, the repeated phrase “your Father who sees in secret will reward you” jumps off the page at me. God is MY Father. God see ME in secret. God wants to reward ME for what I do with and for God alone. We have a personal God! What is the Father seeing us do? Two things, especially important to remember in the Lenten season. Giving alms—money—to people in need. And prayer, alone in your room, with the door shut.
With Jesus talking about both of these things in the same passage, we see that they are connected and indeed, one leads to the other, and they feed one another. When you give to the poor and serve people in need, you often experience God’s presence. I believe this is part of the reward the Lord is talking about—spiritual benefits, such as love, joy, peace, faith, patience, hope, etc. The spiritual benefits come with prayer in the secret place, as well. And when we pray, we receive the compassion of God and often feel stirred to serve and care for people through acts of kindness and compassion.
I have been thinking about prayer lately and how I might encourage adults to feel more comfortable with prayer and enjoy prayer more. Have you ever noticed that children are much better at prayer or at least more comfortable with prayer than adults? Probably because they never worry about whether they are doing it right. You ever worry you might be doing it wrong? Children instinctively know that God will receive their simple prayers with love and grace. Jesuit spiritual director James Martin writes in his book, Learning to Pray, a Guide for Everyone, that he has been praying since he was a little boy and not a particularly religious child. He called upon the name of the Lord as he walked to elementary school each day. It felt completely natural. While he explains more than a dozen ways to pray and listen for God in his guide, the first kind of prayer he prayed as a child was to ask for things. We all know that kind of prayer! He desperately wanted a dog and prayed hard for that dog, and that desire was almost satisfied. “I got as close as identifying a litter of puppies and even naming one,” he says, “but the plan was ultimately scotched because of my sister’s allergies.” He asked for other things, too. He told God what a great safety patrol he would be. “I wanted to convince God to choose me, so that I could be marked for greatness. Wanting to be special and coveting a cool badge are not the most exemplary motivations,” he says, “But it brought me into this second kind of prayer: conversation with God. I tried hard to convince God that I would make a good safety. It was something of a one-sided conversation, however.”
God did answer that prayer—he got to be a safety patrol. But then he wanted to be a captain or lieutenant. He writes, “They wore even cooler medals etched with special colors.” He adds, “If you are motivated by pride, once you reach your goal, there will always be another goal to tempt you.”
Martin experienced a third kind of prayer as a child, a mystical prayer without words when he experienced the presence of God in the wonder of creation. He was riding his bike through a meadow one day on the way to school and suddenly, without warning, he was caught up “in the sweet smell of flowers and grass hanging in the air, with the sun’s morning rays slanting over the field and casting long shadows from the flowers. Bees buzzed around the snapdragons, black-eyed Susans, daisies and Queen Anne’s lace.” (33) He heard the metallic sound of crickets and the snap of grasshoppers moving on blades of grass. He felt compelled to stop his bike and look all around to see so much “life—the sights, the sounds, the smells—and suddenly I had a visceral urge,” he says, “not only to be a part of it, but also to know it…I felt loved, held, understood.”
Martin points out that we can learn from children’s prayer as they often relate to God in any way they please. This allows them to be more open to God than adults. One Christmas Eve, Martin brought his 6-year-old nephew Matthew to see the Christmas crib—Mary and Joseph and Baby Jesus in the manger in front of the altar of his parish church. Martin asked his nephew if he’d like to say something to Jesus. “I expected him to pray silently or maybe ask for another toy. Instead, he said aloud, ‘Make me a good boy, Jesus.’”
One helpful way to think of prayer is beginning a friendship with God. Friendship flourishes when you spend time with friends, as it does with God. It flourishes when you learn more about your friends, as it does with God—and that learning may come from worship, reading Scripture, prayer, and through Christian fellowship, sharing your faith and testimony with other people who are friends with God.
But friendship with the Lord grows best when we allow ourselves to be completely honest with God. This is the God whom the psalmist says in 139, “O Lord, you have searched me and known me.” “If you are saying what you think you should say to God,” Martin says, “rather than what you want to say, then your relationship will grow cold, distant and formal.”
“Honesty with God means sharing everything with God, not simply gratitude and praise and not just things you think are appropriate for prayer.” People often “pray about everything except for the one burning issue in their lives—the one thing they don’t want to look at.” (104)
We never have to hold back with God. He already knows what’s in our hearts and minds, anyway. So why not talk about it—and allow God to help you work through your feelings of anger, frustration, hurt, sorrow, disappointment, fear? These are all feelings that may be difficult to share with the Lord. But they are all things that God wants us to share with him!
So then, we begin this journey together, my friends, with ashes smudged on our foreheads, not to boast of our holiness but to humble us and remind us of our mortality and need for the God to whom we belong, in life and in death.
May we all grow in friendship and trust with God this season, through spending time with him in a secret place or places, wherever they may be. May we grow in spiritual friendship with one another on these Wednesday nights, sharing simple meals, and through our Lenten study. May our prayers stir us to quiet acts of kindness and compassion for people in need, those with whom Jesus identified.
I pray that each of us will, in the seeking of God everywhere, come to know him and ourselves a little bit more. May we be blessed by an experience of the sweet embrace of God’s everlasting presence with us. May we feel loved, held, and understood.
Let us pray.
Heavenly Father, thank you for your love for us, even when we were dust, and your breathing life into us so that we may live with you forever. We praise you that we don’t have to be afraid of anything in this world, for we know that in life and in death, we belong to you. Lead us to a secret place with you, and help us to pause from our busy-ness, more and more, in this holy season. Stir us to acts of compassion and love as spiritual fruit, building our treasure in heaven. May we open our hearts, like a little child, and experience the sweet embrace of your everlasting presence. May we feel loved, held and understood. Amen.
Sharing God's Love and Grace 