Sharing God's Love and Grace

Meditation on Luke 5:1-11

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

Pastor Karen Crawford

Feb. 9, 2025

As we prepare to celebrate our 350^th anniversary, I have been looking through old directories and history books. This week, I came across a black and white picture directory from 1968, featuring many young families. Who was here in 1968?

I recognize some names. Adele and Harold Carson, with their kids—Barbara, David, and Donna.  Guido and Mabel Agostini, with John, Janice, Richard, and Linda. Lillian and Neil Munro, with Michele and Neil. Ethel and Karl Kraft, with Kenneth and Deborah. Charlotte and Edward Cheatham with Andrea and Gregory. Harriet and Henry Yost, with Catherine, Deborah, and Kenneth. Lois and Andy Netter, with Jeffrey, Stephen, and Carla.  Evelyn and Ross Saddlemire, with Marcia, Terry, Lori, Susan, and Sandra. George and Virginia Newcomb with Gretchen. George Ludder with his family. Lucia Spahr with hers. And Bill and Shirley Russell. They look like teenagers! 

Who was the senior pastor in 1968? The Rev. William E. Brown, Jr. from Erie, PA. He graduated from Yale University and Divinity School. He was installed in 1962, following Rev. Raymond Case, who served as our minister for 24 years beginning in 1938. One remarkable thing that I learned about Rev. Case was his close relationship with the Shinnecock Nation. He was recognized as “a blood brother” in 1935 and was given the name Chief Speaking Wind.

Rev. Brown had served as assistant minister at Montview Boulevard Presbyterian Church in Denver, CO, before he accepted the call here. His wife, Margretha, earned a master’s in theology from Union Theological Seminary in NY. She served as Secretary of the Commission on Ecumenical Mission and Relations for our denomination, the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. When the Browns moved here, their son, Neil, was 4, and Stina was born while they served here. Rev. Brown was called to serve as the Associate Executive for Synod Ministries with the Synod of the Covenant in Columbus, OH, in 1973. We also had an associate pastor in 1968: the Rev. Donald Knight.

At the time, our church’s ministry featured a large Sunday Church School that met during both services. We had a Sunday night Senior High Fellowship, Westminster Night on Wednesdays for Jr. High and a three-year Confirmation program, culminating in a 9^th grade pastor’s class. We had Senior Choir, Chapel Choir for 7^th through 12^th grades, and Junior Choir for 4^th through 6^th grades, all directed by Mr. Robert Lawton. Our organist was Mrs. Gloria Sandbeck. The church office was “staffed by Miss Mary A. Hackett of Greenlawn,” says our directory, “who combines quiet efficiency with diplomacy, a gentle humour and genuine concern. Her equal would be hard to find.” Our ministry included United Presbyterian Women, with 8 circle groups, the Kirk Club, a Parish Program with 33 leaders; the Village Presbyterian Pre-School that opened in 1965; a Flower Guild led by Ethel Greenleaf; and a whole host of sports, recreation, community service, and prayer groups.

As I study our history, the leadership and ministries of the congregation, and as I see the smiling photos of all the young children and families, I think about our faithfulness as a congregation. I am thankful for the many children and adults who have grown up and served here, for generations. Some, continue to serve! I wonder, though, what happened to those children in 1968 who aren’t here anymore? Did they get married, take employment, move away? Are they still on Long Island? Did the seeds of the gospel sown here take root? As did the first fishermen who responded to Christ’s call, did they drop their nets and follow him? Did they become fishers of people?

I’ve never actually caught a fish before. Who here has caught a fish? Great! How’s that feel? How’s it feel to fish for hours and not catch a single one? Let us try to imagine working as a fisherperson in Jesus’s time, piloting a small boat without a motor and working at night, all night, while the world slept. In the First Century, those fishing on the Sea of Galilee, today in northeastern Israel, near the borders of Jordan and Syria, may have caught 27 different species of fish. [1] The ones most talked about are carp, catfish, sardines, and tilapia (nicknamed St. Peter’s fish probably because of this passage). Scholars think that the day Jesus fed 5,000 people with five loaves and two fish, they were probably tilapia. The Jewish people may not have eaten the catfish because they were bottom feeders, therefore unclean. On the morning that the risen Christ fed his disciples grilled fish for breakfast, in John 21, they were probably tilapia, too.

If the fishermen were using nets that day with Jesus, they wouldn’t have caught fish as small as sardines. We are left pondering which of the 26 species of fish filled those two small boats and nearly sank them on the Sea of Galilee, the lowest freshwater lake on Earth. Or maybe you aren’t curious about the fish. It’s OK. The point really isn’t what kind of fish. But the enormous catch is a sign for those three, tired fishermen who had nothing to show for their work. And it’s a sign for us today. Still, Simon Peter lets Jesus climb into his boat, and they put away from the shore a little bit, so he could inspire the crowds with his preaching and teaching.

We don’t know what he said to the crowds that day. That doesn’t really matter, either. The actual sermon wasn’t preached with words. The sermon was the miracle catch, which came when a reluctant fisherman revealed a tiny spark of faith in a stranger whose knowledge of commercial fishing didn’t come close to his. Simon answers Christ’s request to go out into the deep water and drop down the nets, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” That tiny spark of faith was all that was needed. “They caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to burst.So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink.”

Simon Peter is overcome with emotion. He didn’t really think they were going to catch anything. He was waiting to say, “I told you so.” He can’t ignore this Jesus, who seems to look right into his soul. And he does. “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” he says.

I don’t know about you, but I can imagine this kind of scenario happening with Jesus and me. Maybe not in the context of fishing, but certainly in the context of ministry here in Smithtown.

I get discouraged, too. I get caught up in the day-to-day work and long hours because I haven’t learned how to say, “No,” yet. I take on more than I need to do. In the back of my mind, I think I am afraid I will disappoint someone—maybe I am worried about letting God down. Because of this problem of not being able to say, “No,” I end up carrying a heavy net around with me, wherever I am. Wherever I go. I’ve answered the call, but that big ole net gets in the way of following the Lord, freely and unencumbered, with no concern for the future or the past—successes or failures.

That’s what God’s grace is all about. We need to accept God’s grace for ourselves, just as Christ had grace and a plan for Simon Peter. He comforted him, saying, “Do not be afraid.”

The congregation looks different today. We don’t have as many groups and activities. We don’t have as many children. We only have one worship service and two, multi-age Sunday School classes. But that congregation in 1968 knew the future would be different from the past. The history in the directory that year concludes, “This Church, with its illustrious past, is our heritage. A heritage not alone of timber and stone, but of Love and Devotion to God. Its past is in our hearts. Its future is in the hands of the inheritors and their heirs.”

Our calling, love, and devotion to God and one another hasn’t changed in more than 2,000 years. We are still invited to trust in the faithfulness of Christ, the work of his cross, the promise of resurrection, and the guidance of the Spirit every day of our lives.

There will be sometimes when we take on more than we can handle, forget to ask for help, fail to rest when we need to take a Sabbath, and feel tired and discouraged, like the three First Century fishermen who worked all night, caught nothing.

The Spirit of the Lord is reminding us of our call. Do not be afraid. At this moment, we are invited to leave our boats on shore. Drop our nets. Follow him. And fish for people.

Let us pray.

Holy One, we are grateful for your invitation to leave the things of this world behind and follow you. Thank you for your love and grace and faithfulness to your church, for many generations. We pray for all those children in 1968 and all the children with whom you have trusted us to love and nurture in the faith today. May the seeds that were sown take root and grow. Help us to respond to your call, with hope and joy, without hesitation. Stop us when we take on too much, forget to rest, forgo the Sabbath, and get discouraged. Teach us how to fish for people, day by day. Amen.

      [1] https://aleteia.org/2020/04/16/what-kind-of-fish-did-the-risen-christ-feed-the-apostles

Meditation on Jeremiah 1:4–10 and First Corinthians 13:1-13

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

Feb. 2, 2025

I wrote a long letter and emailed it to my friend, Britt, this week. She lives in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, where the weather forecast for today is -11 degrees F, with a wind chill making it feel like -33F. Whenever I want to complain about how cold it is in winter, I remember Britt, and I stop complaining.

We met in the first class of my doctoral program three years ago. We entered the program at the same time, and we have been in every class together, twice a year, since then. We have often been study partners and have worked together on group presentations. She taught me how to communicate on WhatsApp, instead of texting or calling her.  But I hadn’t talked to her since last July, maybe, when the seminary approved my research proposal.

She has an ecumenical spirit. She is a pastor of more than 25 years in the United Church of Canada, which came about on June 10, 1925, in Toronto, Ontario, when the Methodist Church, Canada, the Congregational Union of Canada, and 70 percent of The Presbyterian Church in Canada entered into a union.

She is a strong preacher on peace and justice issues. She is compassionate and empathetic. She gave me a pin of a red beaded dress last summer so that I would remember the missing indigenous women who receive unequal treatment by law enforcement in Canada, who make excuses for their disappearances and don’t spend much time or effort searching for them.

Two years ago, when we went to Ghost Ranch, NM, for our summer seminar, she gave me a pin of an orange shirt and told me the story, how we wear orange in September to remember the indigenous children forcibly taken from their families and sent to cruel government boarding schools at an early age to be indoctrinated and americanized. Everything they loved and that made them who they were was taken from them—families, clothing, hair styles, language, foods they were accustomed to eating, all aspects of their culture and personal identities. These government schools operated in the US and Canada until the 1960s—and, as you can guess, living in such harsh conditions, many children died of malnutrition or other preventable illnesses and those who survived, were traumatized.

Britt is the only Canadian in our class. She was teased because of it. Even one of our professors made a joke about how nice Canadians are when he was flying on a Canadian airline. It’s kind of a stereotype—the nice Canadian. She didn’t mind being teased. She always had a great comeback, such as, “You’re just jealous of our free healthcare.” I don’t want to say she has an accent, because we New Yorkers have accents, too. Right? But when she says “a-b-o-u-t” (how do you say it?) “about,” it comes out sounding like she’s speaking of footwear—“a BOOT.” I think I have heard, “You betcha” a few times. She says, “Aye” instead of yes sometimes. And she extends the “o” vowel sometimes, and gives it a musical tone, going from high to low, such as at the end of the word “so.” It comes out like “sooooooooooo…..”

She responded almost immediately to my long email with an equally long email, beginning, “Karen, I am soooo glad to hear from you.” And there were 4 o’s in her so.

But even though she is teased a little because of her Canadian citizenship and accent, everyone listens when she speaks. Not just because of the way she talks, but because of what she says and how she carefully chooses her words so as not to hurt others and really engages with the people around her because of her knowledge and passion for the subject. She isn’t shy, but she doesn’t dominate the conversation. Britt speaks when she has something important to say, and she says it with sensitivity, good humor, and love, the greatest of all spiritual gifts.

We can tell that Britt, like Jeremiah, was called to be a prophetic preacher since she was young. She has learned to hear God’s voice and respond. Ministry was and has always been God’s purpose for her, the God who has known her since the Lord formed her in the womb, as God tells the reluctant prophet Jeremiah at the beginning of his book, which is by the way, the LONGEST book of the entire Bible. 52 chapters. More than 1,300 verses! The book contains many different genres of writing: poetic oracles, sermons, prayers, and prose narratives, sometimes all woven together. A notable image of Jeremiah is as the “weeping prophet,” (Westminster Study Bible, 1031) which has influenced art of Jeremiah over the ages.

Jeremiah contains one of my favorite passages, chapter 29, beginning with the 4^th verse:

Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. 

       Britt writes in a follow up note to me of an earlier call to ministry in a rural, very conservative part of Alberta, “After 9-11, I remember talking very briefly about how anger could not lead us to hate Muslims. Not a popular topic but thankfully nobody ran me out of town. In that place I was the person the nurses came to quietly to ask if I would visit a gay couple where one of them had cancer. So that was my place – to be the quiet corner of love in a community that got to know me as that kind of minister. I was admittedly pretty young then and not so certain about myself. I think as the years have gone by, I have obtained a more steady assurance of faith.”

      Jeremiah grew in confidence as the years went by, as well. He served the Lord in a prophetic career that spanned 40 years—627 to 587 BCE, during the historic reigns of Kings Josiah, Jehoiakim, and Zedekiah, son of Josiah of Judah. “This was a chaotic and tumultuous time of war in the ancient Near East” (Westminster Study Bible, 1031). “Judah…was geographically caught between the superpowers (Assyrian and Babylonian Empires and Egyptian leaders). Judeans contended with political, social, ecological, economic, and theological instability, and these realities are reflected” (Westminster Study Bible, 1031) in Jeremiah’s book.

       Before he served the Lord for 40 years, he had that moment of reluctance, hesitation, the first time he heard the Lord commissioning him a prophet to the nations (plural). He thought maybe the Lord got it wrong, saying, “Ah, Lord God! Truly I don’t know how to speak, for I am only a boy.” The Lord quickly answers, “Don’t say, ‘I am only a boy.’ For you shall go to all whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you.”

      You heard me tell the children today that it doesn’t matter how old we are, or what gender we are; the Lord calls to all who listens and wants to serve God and neighbor. The Lord knew Jeremiah since before he was born. The Lord knew my friend, Britt, since before she was born. And the Lord knew that we would meet and become friends and encourage one another in our ministries. At times, I have really needed her encouragement. At times, she has really needed mine. We can be the loving voice of God at times for one another.

The Lord knew you and me before we were born, too. God promises to lead us to the places the Lord wants us to go. For Britt, that was Alberta. For me, it was Long Island. It doesn’t matter if we have a funny accent. God promises to give us the words to say and lead us to say them when the Lord wants us to speak. Don’t be afraid.

      I leave you now with the encouraging words of Jeremiah to God’s people, to all of us who are serious about hearing God’s voice and desire to be faithful. This is Jeremiah 29:11:

     ^“For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

Let us pray.

Lord God, thank you for knowing us before we were born, and having a plan for our lives, a plan for our welfare and not for harm, a future with hope. Forgive us when we, like Jeremiah, might be reluctant to be your prophet to the nations. Thank you for allowing us to hear your still, small voice, for leading us to the places you want us to go, strengthening us when we get there, and for giving us the words to say, when you want us to say them. Grant us the greatest spiritual gift of all so that whenever we speak, we will speak from a place of love. In Christ we pray. Amen.

Meditation on Luke 4:14-21

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown

Jan. 26, 2025

This is a happy day for our congregation. Today, we will ordain and/or install our Elders and Deacons to active service. Ordination is truly God’s gift to the church—the Lord’s way of equipping and caring for the people of God. When I consider those who have said yes to serving, I am filled with gratitude to God and to all who agreed to serve. I know about the variety of gifts and talents these people possess. The longer I am here, the more I see and appreciate them!

And I know that we are united as Christ’s Body. We have the same passion; we love the Church; we love the Lord. And while we are many members with different gifts, we are ONE, drinking of the same Spirit, as Paul says in his first letter to the Corinthian church. In this passage in chapter 12 that we read today, notice that Paul uses the word ONE at least 10 times. Whenever there is a repeated word in the Bible, the writer is emphasizing that word. Paul wants you to remember ONE, if nothing else, from this passage.

Friends, there is not ONE member who is unimportant. At the Church at Corinth, they were a competitive group of people. There were some egos. They all wanted to be important. Paul tried to set them straight and keep them from being divisive. He wanted them to care for the members who were not being treated as well as they should. Our example for leadership is always Jesus. We are called to be servant leaders. Jesus came not to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.

Trustees, though they are not ordained in the Church, are still answering the call to ministry and using all their God-given gifts and resources to serve the Lord and the family of God. The work of the Deacons, though they are ordained to their special kind of service, isn’t less or more important than the work of the Trustees and the Elders. The work of the Elders, though they are ordained to their special kind of service, isn’t less or more important than the work of the Trustees and the Deacons.

What about the rest of the Church? Do we need everyone else, too, or is it enough to just have the minister, Trustees, Deacons, and Elders? We need everyone in the Church to complete the Body of Christ. We especially need the children!!! We need everyone. We need you. We would not be the same without you. Every member of the Body is needed, just like a human body without an ear, eye, arm, hand, mouth, leg, foot, or toe, is incomplete. All are needed for our ministry in this place.

We are with Jesus in his hometown of Nazareth in our reading in Luke chapter 4 today. He’s been in this synagogue before. He grew up here. Who has been in this church for at least 30 years? How’s it feel to come back, again and again, to this house of worship, to these people? It feels good, right? Comfortable. He’s been in this synagogue for 30 years, ever since he was a child, though he wasn’t born in Nazareth, of course.

Jesus knows everyone in the synagogue here. Indeed, everybody knows everybody. They don’t just see each other on the Sabbath. They see each other probably every day. It’s a small town, maybe a few hundred people. These are all working class folks, most not highly educated. News about Jesus—what he’s been up to—has traveled around the region. They didn’t need Facebook or cell phones back then. It was all word of mouth. People are talking about Jesus, all the good things he has done.

They are proud of him, until he stands up to read from the prophet Isaiah. Everything is going well until he finishes, rolls up the scroll, sits down. And announces that he is the Messiah, the one with the Spirit of the Lord upon him, the One with a capital O, anointed to preach good news to the poor, release to the captive, sight to the blind, freedom to the oppressed. They know this scripture like they know the back of their hands. But Jesus has now changed the whole meaning of this familiar passage. He is saying, “Isaiah was talking about me.”

Here is what happened after that. Beginning at verse 22,

²² All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, “Is this not Joseph’s son?” ²³ He said to them, “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.’ ” ²⁴ And he said, “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in his hometown.”

He then goes on to assure them that he isn’t going to do all the deeds of power, all the healings and casting out of demons, that he has done in other places. He won’t be able to do them because of their lack of faith. He reminds them how the work of the prophet Elijah, during the 3 and a half years of famine in the land, wasn’t sent to help the many needy widows of Israel; he was only sent to a Gentile widow outside of Israel. Many struggled with skin diseases in Israel, but the only one Elijah cured was the Gentile, Naaman the Syrian.

The people in his hometown can’t take any more of their native son. Filled with rage, they get up, drive him to the edge of town and attempt to hurl him off a cliff. He mysteriously passes through them and continues on his way, heading to Capernaum in Galilee, where he teaches on the Sabbath and heals a man with an unclean spirit.

The lesson here for us is that Jesus had plenty of bumps in the road during his ministry. And he was Jesus, the Son of God! The people he loved and knew the most let him down, right from the beginning. He went home and wasn’t welcome there, anymore. But he didn’t stop doing what God had called him to do. He kept going. He persevered.

I’m in my last few months of my doctoral program. At this point, I am working on the research and writing every day. I try to give at least two hours a day to the project. But sometimes, life happens, and plans change. Some days, I work more than two hours on the project. I sit down with my books at the computer, and I start writing and then I look up, and it’s dark outside. Four, five, six, eight hours have passed. How does that happen? And there’s still more work to do.

Most of the time, I feel happy as I do this research and writing piece. Writing is one of my gifts and spiritual practices; it brings me closer to the Lord and reminds me of my identity as God’s beloved child. I feel peace. I usually remember to take breaks, change gears, go outside and walk, make a pastoral call, eat meals, spend some time relaxing with my family. But sometimes I lie in bed at night wondering if I will ever finish this 100-page paper. And if I do, will it be good enough? Then, in the morning, in the light of day, I climb out of bed and, with the Spirit of the Lord upon me as I seek to be obedient to my ministry calling, I have new energy, new thoughts and ideas, new hope, new joy for the journey ahead.

Those of you who will be ordained and/or installed to active service as elders and deacons today, I want to encourage you that your baptism is sufficient for your calling. You have what you need to do the ministry God desires you to do. But sometimes, you might lie in bed at night and ask yourself, “What was I thinking? What was I thinking when I said yes to serving as a Trustee, a Deacon, or Elder?” Just remember, you are not alone. Work together with the other Deacons. Work together with the other Elders and Trustees. And I’m here to help. And your church family is here. We are all praying for you and cheering you on. Remember that no matter what happens, you are God’s beloved children. Nothing you do will ever change that. And other people are having those same anxious thoughts and moments, maybe not at the exact same time you are, but they have, and they will. Remember that things are always brighter in the light of day. You need to get enough sleep! We have new mercies from our faithful God, even when we, like the people of Christ’s hometown, may be running short on faith. We have new mercies from God every morning. New energy, new hope. New thoughts and ideas. New joy for the journey ahead.

What is the word that Paul wants you to remember from today’s passage? ONE. As you seek to be obedient to your calling, remember that while there are many members, there is only ONE body of Christ. Look around you. This is YOUR BODY. A body without an arm, leg, hand, foot, or toe is incomplete. And that while there are many gifts, there is only ONE that is the most important. Check it out in First Corinthians 13. The most important gift needed for serving in this church and the body of Christ in the world? LOVE.

So, keep going, like Jesus. Persevere through the bumps in the road. Trust the Lord to provide for you and guide you on what will be for you and me a surprising journey of faith. Remember to love. And remember the words of the prophet Isaiah that Jesus read at his hometown synagogue. They were true for him and, now that he has claimed you in baptism, they are true for you, too.

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me.”

Let us pray. Holy One, thank you for your love. Thank you for raising up new leaders for our congregation and leading them to say yes to serving. We trust you to guide, empower, and provide for all our leaders, that when they are discouraged, you will stir the Church to lift them up. When they are tired, anxious, or frustrated, you will grant them peace, joy, and rest. Bless them and all of us—the One Body of Christ—in our labor of love for you. May we always feel your presence and give you thanks for your loving Spirit forever upon us as we seek to be obedient to your will. Amen.

Meditation on John 2: 1-11

Pastor Karen Crawford

First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, NY

Jan. 19, 2025

Have you been to any weddings lately?

The story of the wedding at Cana always makes me remember the little things that go wrong at weddings. One time, when I was presiding over a wedding in Ohio, the best man dropped the rings. They rolled across the wooden chancel floor and dropped down into the congregation. There was an audible gasp in the room; 200 people or more waited while one of the bridesmaids found the rings and handed them back up to us.

This was right after I had jokingly said to the best man before the wedding, “Don’t drop the rings.” I had never said that before. I’ve never said it since.

 I always assure the bride and groom during the pre-marital counseling sessions that even if something unexpected happens, everything will be alright. They will still be married. The bride and their wedding will still be beautiful. I encourage them to keep going, as if nothing happened, and more often than not, no one else notices something has gone wrong.

Running out of wine at a wedding reception in biblical times would be pretty difficult to conceal. An abundance of wine was especially important at weddings in Jesus’ time. Everyone drank wine. Wedding parties went on for days and nights, sometimes as long as a week.

Jesus, his mother, and the disciples were invited to this wedding, so they must have known the families involved. The reality is that we don’t know anything about the wedding itself, even though the story is always talked about as “The Wedding in Cana.” We don’t know who presided over the service or where it took place. We never actually meet the bride and groom. (The groom is mentioned near the end of the passage, but he doesn’t have a speaking part, and he never finds out what really happened, not that we know of.)

I’ve always thought the problem was that the bride and groom and their parents would have been embarrassed if they ran out of wine and the party ended prematurely. But I never thought about who would be persecuted if that happened—the servants, some that might have been hired expressly for helping at the big event.

Mary’s relationship with the servants, the bride and groom, and the families is something of a mystery here. Why was she helping behind the scenes and, in fact, in charge of the servants of someone else’s household? This passage presents her as a take-charge kind of individual and compassionate—not only for the bride and groom and their families, but for the servants.

Her behavior and attitude remind me a little of Jesus. But that shouldn’t surprise us, since she is his mother! What a treasure this passage is for us; it acts as a window into their relationship. He is ALWAYS Mary’s son, just like our children will always be our children, no matter how old they are or the importance of their jobs and callings. Mary appears to be unafraid to speak her mind to Jesus and tell him what to do, when he needs it, even if he is the Son of God, Messiah, and Savior of the World.

There’s been a lot of talk about Jesus refraining from calling Mary “Mother” in this passage. He calls her, “Woman.” Right? We don’t know what he is thinking or feeling at the time, just that he disagrees with her, at first. Maybe he’s saying “Woman,” with a smile teasing at his lips and a gentle tone. We can’t tell from the text. Scholars assure us that Jesus calling her “Woman” was a term of respect and not uncommon. That Mary is called “the mother of Jesus” and not “Mary” in this passage was also a sign of respect, affirming her relationship with the Son of God.

Reading the passage this week, I began to think that Jesus and Mary seem to know each other’s minds, which is more evidence of their close relationship. She doesn’t tell him to do anything about the wine problem. She doesn’t tell him what to do, at all. She says, “They have no wine.” I am imagining she’s using a certain tone to her voice and maybe a raised eyebrow, as she looks intently at him.

Jesus knows his mother wants him to fix the problem. But he tries to tell her that it isn’t his problem. Or her problem, either, for that matter. It makes you wonder if they have had these kinds of conversations before. He asks her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me?” Maybe he wasn’t in the mood for miracles. Maybe he didn’t think a wedding reception was the time and place. Maybe he was just messing with her and knew that he was going to do a miracle, all along.

He says, “My hour has not yet come,” foreshadowing when he will tell his disciples in John 12:23, after some Greeks come looking for him at the Festival of the Passover, “The hour is come that the Son of man should be glorified.” And there’s another foreshadowing in this passage—at the very beginning, when we learn that the wedding in Cana of Galilee happens “on the third day.” What else happens on the third day in Christ’s story? Yes, he will rise from the dead!

Mary doesn’t answer her son’s protest, that this isn’t the time or place for miracles. She just ignores him and tells the servants to do whatever he asks of them. The wedding at Cana reveals the faith of Mary, faith in his power and willingness to help, even if it seemed like his answer was no. She doesn’t know how he will do it, but she is sure that a miracle will happen. And for this, she is a model for us—to believe in Christ’s power and willingness to help us in our time of need. And to be surprised by the abundance of our blessings!

There’s no trumpet fanfare. No attention drawn to Jesus, his mother, and the disciples. This isn’t like the feeding of the multitude, where everyone experiences the miracle together. This is a quiet, behind the scenes miracle, a story unknown to the bridal party and guests, but shared with Christ’s followers with joy, over and over again, for generations to come.

Jesus, the one who will say in John 15, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing,” tells the servants to fill six stone jars with water, then draw some out and take it to the chief steward. The steward, not let in on the secret, confirms that the wine that was just water tastes better than the wine served at the beginning. “Everyone serves the good wine first, and the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk,” the chief steward says to the bridegroom, maybe with a wink. “But you have kept the good wine until now.”

So, my friends, now that you have considered the first of Jesus’ signs, the wedding in Cana of Galilee—when Jesus turned water into wine—I ask you, what signs have you seen that have revealed the presence of God to you, the ONE who is living and active in your life? When have you felt your abiding in the vine? When have you and others seen you bearing much fruit because of your abiding?

When have you realized your need for Jesus –and that apart from him, you can do nothing? And that with God, nothing is impossible.

As we continue in the season of Epiphany, a season of revelation, a time to recognize the arrival of God’s plan in Jesus and to look forward to God’s ongoing action through Christ….

Are you ready to be surprised by joy as you encounter the Lord’s goodness and mercy, abundant blessings that overflow from your cup, like David’s cup in Psalm 23, all the days of your life?

Are you ready like Mary for the power of God to be made known in Christ’s everyday miracles, maybe behind the scenes, quietly, but miracles, nonetheless, that signal the pouring out of God’s love, like water into wine, a love that never runs dry.

Are you ready, like his first disciples, to be strengthened in your faith when you see more signs that reveal Christ’s glory?

Let us pray.

Holy One, thank you for calling us to be your branches in the vine of Jesus Christ. And the assurance that if we remain in Christ, we will bear much fruit, but apart from Him, we can do nothing. Thank you for the example of Mary, who trusted in her son, Your Son, and the power of his miracles, such as the turning of water into wine at the wedding at Cana, the first of His signs, a revelation of his identity. Thank you for your willingness to help us in our time of need. Open our eyes, Lord, so that we recognize your goodness and mercy and abundant blessings that overflow daily from our cups, like David’s in Psalm 23. May we see Christ’s glory through everyday happenings and be strengthened in our faith. Amen.

Meditation on Luke 3:15–17, 21–22

Baptism of Our Lord Sunday

Rev. Karen Crawford

Jan. 12, 2025

We have just made a new memory together! One more for the history books!

We remembered our baptisms and recognized those who have been baptized in our church. Most of those present today who were baptized in our church were baptized with water from our beautiful marble baptismal font, dating back to 1939.

Did you know that our baptismal font has eight sides? Do you know why? Eight is for the day after the Sabbath, when Christ was raised, and there was a NEW CREATION.

YOU, my friends, are now raised to live abundantly and eternally with Him.

Edward N. and Samuel H. Abbey gave the font to the congregation in memory of their parents. Dr. Edward Abbey served as minister here from 1903 to 1937. Our history book says, “He was a stately and dignified man who was active in the community. He helped establish the first bank; campaigned for an organized fire department; worked earnestly for a new public school. His wife Augusta Hammill Abbey died in 1934. Three years later, in his 89^th year, Dr. Abbey retired for health reasons.” He died in his sleep that same year. But at his 89^th birthday party, he said, “People are my hobby. I love to meet them and help them with their troubles. And when I can no longer help people, I shall know my mission is over.” [1]

From what I have heard about Rev. Dr. Abbey, I believe his caring, servant spirit captures the spirit of our congregation, the First Presbyterian Church in Smithtown. Yes, we are a Church of Jesus Christ. We belong to Him. But we are all about people. Our calling, as Dulcie McLeod shared in her Epiphany message last Sunday, is to BELIEVE. We believe in people, and we make it our aim to help one another find our callings and live out our baptisms, knowing and doing the Lord’s will for our lives and our church. And we believe in ourselves, as God has made us, and the Spirit is transforming and recreating us, and as we are affirmed by the love and grace of one another. And we believe in our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who brought light into our darkness, claims us in our baptisms, and strengthens us daily to live faithfully.

Merriam Webster says BELIEVE means “to be true or honest, to accept the word or evidence of, or to hold as an opinion,” or “suppose,” such as “I believe it will rain soon.” When we say BELIEVE IN, we change the meaning slightly, “to accept something as true, genuine, or real, to have a firm or wholehearted religious conviction or persuasion,” such as regarding “the existence of God as a fact” or “to have a firm conviction as to the goodness, efficacy, or ability of something” or someone. To NOT BELIEVE is “to be astounded at.”

This word we sometimes translate in English as BELIEVE is pistis in Greek, with some different connotations than our English word. Pistis “in Greek mythology was the personification of good faith, trust, and reliability.” Pistis in the New Testament is often translated as “faith” and shown to be the opposite of fear. After Jesus calms the storm in Mark chapter 4, he says to his disciples, cowering in the boat, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” Faith here is pistin—same root as pistis. But when the New Testament talks about BELIEVING IN something or someone, that word pistis may be translated TRUST.

TRUST, to me, is different from BELIEVE. TRUST involves commitment and loyalty. TRUST isn’t just a matter of the mind or intellect. TRUST engages the heart, mind, and soul and empowers us to do what we never imagined we could have done before. Like the Apostle Paul says in Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Him that strengthens me.”

In our passage in Luke today, the people are coming in droves to be baptized, filled with hope and anticipation that they will meet their long-awaited Messiah. They expect him to be John the Baptizer, but then God surprises them, exceeds their expectations. The heavens open and the Holy Spirit descends on Jesus like a dove. A voice speaks from above, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

A few days ago, I said to my husband, “What was I thinking when I went away to seminary? Driving to Princeton every week for two years and leaving my husband and family behind in York, PA?” That must have seemed crazy to the rest of my family. It certainly did to my editors at the newspaper where I worked as a journalist. It was a hard thing to do. Many times, I cried myself to sleep at night, with only my shelty, Molly, at my apartment in Princeton for company. I wiped away tears as I made the 2 hour and 15-minute drive one way on the Pennsylvania Turnpike every Monday morning.

Looking back, I know I was living into my baptism—seeking to follow God’s will for my life. It’s easy to see that now, but then, it was scary. What empowered me was that I was so grateful for God’s faithfulness to my family and me. I wanted to be a blessing to the Church. The only way I could have done such a thing was with the loving support of my husband, Jim. I could not have done it without him. He believed in me. His love strengthened me to trust in our relationship, trust in myself, and trust in the Lord, who exceeded, without a doubt, my expectations.

This year, as we celebrate God’s faithfulness for 350 years of ministry in Smithtown and 200 years in this sanctuary, let us TRUST in one another. May we encourage everyone to live into and live out our baptisms more than ever before. May our TRUST build our love, unity, and peace, and strengthen us for ministry for the next 200 years.

May our TRUST in ourselves rub off on others, so that they who may be insecure or fearful may be emboldened and delighted to serve, to stand firm as God’s Beloved, who can never fail!

May we, as Proverbs 3:5-6 tells us, Trust in the Lord with all our hearts and lean not on our own understanding. In all our ways, may we acknowledge and give thanks to the Lord God, who directs our paths.

This is my hope for you this year, my friends. May you be filled with expectation, like the crowded coming to be baptized by John, that you will meet your Messiah every time you enter into worship with your church family. May you leave your doubts outside these old walls, doubts about other people, doubts about yourself. Leave them all behind in the parking lot! And don’t pick them up again when you depart from this place in the love of God, peace of Christ, and power and unity of the Spirit.

Sisters and brothers, we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us!

TRUST in the One who will meet all your needs and help you moment by moment, day by day.

TRUST in the One who will fill you with hope and exceed your expectations.

Will you pray with me?

Holy, Triune God, thank you for your love for us and the whole world and for revealing Your Son, the Messiah, at the River Jordan, where for us and our salvation, he was baptized by John. Thank you for your faithfulness to our congregation, for guiding and equipping us for ministry in Christ’s name for 350 years. Strengthen us to live into and live out our baptisms every day, led by the Spirit, seeking to be obedient to your will. And as we learn to TRUST in other people, in ourselves, and in you, most of all, fill us with hope. Grant us peace as we anticipate that you will exceed our expectations. Amen.

     [1] J. Richard Mehalick. Church and Community (1675-1975) The Story of the First Presbyterian Church of Smithtown, 2^nd edition, 2010.

Meditation on John 14 and Second Corinthians 5:1-9

In Memory of John H. Davidsen

November 27, 1927 to November 22, 2024

Pastor Karen Crawford

December 1, 2024

John Davidsen was a builder by trade and calling, a master carpenter. He learned his skills by working alongside his Norwegian immigrant father, his Uncle Dan, and his brother, Alfred. They built houses and churches across Long Island. He eventually became employed with Nastasi White in New York City and took great pride in having helped remodel Carnegie Hall, The Museum of Natural History, and the Cornell University Alumni Center.

He didn’t expect to follow in his father’s footsteps. He had other hopes and dreams.

He was born on November 27, 1927, in Brooklyn—two years before the Wall Street crash. The Great Depression would shape his formative years and his character, personality, and life experiences. Difficult times made him realize what was important in life—family, friendships, faith. He was a calm man, courageous and confident. An explorer and adventurer. He always had a smile. Maybe the most amazing thing that I heard about John was that he rode a bicycle, when he was 13 or 14, from Brooklyn to Baltimore with his best friend, Ralph. Although they did see a movie in Baltimore, the journey itself, including the friend he was with, was likely the reason for traveling and not just the destination.

The third of four children born to Harriet and John Davidsen was a hard worker from his youth. He was willing to work where he could find it and people trusted him to do a good job—setting up pins in a bowling alley, working for a dry cleaner, selling flowers, and assisting at a printing press. The printing press job led to his pursuit of education, training, and graduation in June 1945 from the New York School of Printing in Manhattan, now the High School of Graphic Communication Arts.

But John wanted to serve his country, help with the war effort, and see the world. When he turned 18 later in 1945, he enlisted in the U.S. Navy. Aboard the Destroyer USS Mayrant, DD-402, he traveled to Bikini Atoll, a coral reef in the Marshall Islands, arriving at the end of May 1946. The Mayrant was designated as a test ship for Operation Crossroads, the 1946 atomic bomb tests. John would witness the first underwater nuclear bomb detonation. Afterward, John boarded the destroyer USS Chevalier, DD-805, toured the Western Pacific, and spent time moored off China. He saw parts of the country before the culmination of the Communist Revolution and “The People’s Republic” in 1949. He was stationed in Hawaii before it became our 50th state, when it was still wild and beautiful, before it was all built up.

The good natured, optimistic man met the love of his life, Eleanor Benes, on a blind date. They were married on Nov. 7, 1953. John drove Eleanor to California for their honeymoon to see his pal, Ralph, who couldn’t make it to the wedding. I imagine the journey there and back was a great adventure, perhaps as much fun as the destination.

John and Eleanor rented an apartment in Manhattan in their first years of marriage. But they saved up and bought the property in Massapequa in 1956. John worked every Saturday for 18 months, with the help of family and friends, building their dream home in which they would live out their lives together. They would make many memories and raise three children there—John, Nancy, and Robert.

The children were baptized and confirmed at St. David’s Lutheran Church in Massapequa. Sundays remained “family days” for many years, while Saturdays would be days that John did side jobs for extra money, with the help of his buddy Ryan. Growing up, the three children remember how their father never raised his voice, never lost his temper, never argued with his wife, and always carved out time for family vacations. This was despite the fact that when he took off from work, he didn’t get paid. He and Eleanor wanted the kids to see and learn about the world around them. They piled in the car, and he drove them to Maine and Montreal and down south to visit museums and battlefields.

When their children were grown, John was happy to spend Saturdays fixing and making improvements on his children’s homes. He inspected and knew his wood, could spot the “keepers” and the ones from Lowes or Home Depot that were “no good.” What he built, he built to last. He worked long hours for his family, sometimes 12 hours at a time, and took pride in his work. Nothing was done halfway. Nothing was just good enough.

The apostle Paul, in his second letter to the Corinthians, uses the analogy of building when he talks about life and death, and everlasting life in the glory that is to come. We live in earthly tents now—not just wood and bricks and mortar homes, but flesh and blood bodies that God created for us to live in the loving ways that God has ordained. These earthly tents are, as Paul says, wasting away, as we age. Paul often complained about his physical problems, partially due to the persecution and imprisonment he experienced as a church planter and ambassador for Christ.

Some people assume that our mortal bodies didn’t matter that much to Paul, but that isn’t true. He is just trying to give us hope in our trials, lift us out of the stress and darkness of our world and see the bright hope of what is to come. But he also wants to strengthen us by giving us a vision of what is possible right now, when we walk by faith and don’t just live by sight. You see, each of us are already fully clothed with the Holy Spirit.

Paul describes our existence in this earthly tent as a kind of groaning, while we long for suffering, pain, and hardship to end and yearn for the promise of God to be fulfilled—our resurrection with Christ. One day, we will have new bodies and will be “further clothed with our heavenly dwelling,” so that “what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.”

Please understand that Paul isn’t saying anything bad about people who build houses on earth—houses made with human hands. In fact, Paul was a tentmaker by trade, and people often lived in and traveled long distances by staying in tents along the way.

Jesus, too, was a carpenter who learned his trade from his earthly father. Jesus uses the language of building houses and preparing rooms when he seeks to encourage his disciples when his life on earth was near the end and the cross was in the road ahead. In John 14, Jesus tells his followers and all of us that he is going to prepare a place for them, for us, in his Father’s House of many rooms. And he will come again and take us there, so that where he is, we will always be with him.

On this day, when we celebrate John Davidsen’s wonderful life, let us remember that the earthly tents that we live in—our miraculous bodies—are also beautiful gifts from a loving God, who is with us always in Spirit. This is a God who has made his home with mortals. We are not alone here. And what we see is not all there is.

John, who witnessed amazing things in his nearly 97 years, with all his journeys across the country and around the world, always knew what was important. And it wasn’t the destinations. It was the journey itself and the people who shared it with him.

He lost the love of his life on April 24, 1998, after a long battle with cancer.

Every Sunday continued to be Family Day after that, when she exchanged her earthly tent for her forever dwelling place. A building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

Every Sunday, he drove to the cemetery to visit with Eleanor. Then, he would spend time with his children and grandchildren, eating Chinese takeout at the home he dreamed of and built long ago in Massapequa, on Saturdays, with the help from family and friends.

He slipped away to eternity, holding on to his youngest son’s hand, on November 22, leaving us to remember his stories, his love, his goodness and generosity, his ever present smile and ready tool box and miter saws. And his way of never doing anything halfway. Nothing just good enough. How he always said how he never had any regrets. And his advice to his daughter, Nancy, when her husband, Kevin, left this world too soon, “You’ll never stop missing him. But the pain won’t be as sharp.”

I leave you now with the encouraging words of our Savior, who has prepared a place for each of us to live with him, in His Father’s house of many rooms.

^“Peace 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.”

Amen.