family of faith

Big Dreams

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Big Dreams” Matthew 1:18-25

Eugenia Bergstrom pulled the last batch of Christmas cookies from the oven. Her cheeks had that rosy glow that comes from working all morning in a kitchen superheated by holiday baking. She pushed a damp strand of hair out of her eyes and surveyed her work: crispy gingerbread men, Lingonberry hearts, peanut butter kisses, and sugar cookie stars flooded with bright royal icing. There would be plenty for the church cookie swap and extra for Christmas when her daughter Ella and son Lukas would be home for the holidays.

Christmas was Eugenia’s absolute favorite. Her husband Sten died in a hunting accident when the kids were little, just five and seven. Eugenia had done her best to be both mother and father, especially at Christmas. Each December, they would drive over to the “Kut-It-Yourself Christmas Grove” and pick a tree. Once they were home, out came the homemade ornaments: popcorn and cranberry garland, macaroni wreaths, popsicle stick reindeer, yarn-wrapped God’s eyes. After Christmas dinner, they would have a little toast, Eugenia sipping a tiny glass of sherry and the kids raising fizzy cups of sparkling cider. “To Poppa,” they raised their glasses. Looking back, Eugenia sometimes wondered if she had really made Christmas special, or if she had just forced merriment into the Poppa-shaped hole in their hearts that had been left by Sten’s death.

The phone rang. Eugenia swiped the face of her cellphone at least six times before the call connected. “Hello?”

“Eugenia, it’s Pastor Bob.” She instinctively turned north, as if she could see two doors down to the Presbyterian Church.

“Oh, Bob. I thought you might be one of the kids. What’s up?”

“Marge wanted me to check in and see if you would join us for Christmas dinner. Paul will be home from school, and Marge is making ham and scalloped potatoes.”

Eugenia thought of the decadent layers of thinly sliced potatoes, heavy cream, and gruyere cheese. “Bob, I thought you were watching your cholesterol.”

As he often did around Eugenia, Bob felt a little like a naughty child. “Well,” he hurried on, “It’s only one day. You know it’s Paul’s very favorite dish. Hey, I won’t tell the doctor if you won’t. But really, Eugenia, we hope you’ll join us.” She often did.

“Sorry to disappoint, Bob, but my kids will be home this year. Lukas is coming from San Diego with his family. Ella has asked for a few days off from the hospital. We are having a real family Christmas.”

Bob found this interesting. The “kids,” who were well into their forties by now, hadn’t been home in years. “What great news!” he said.

Eugenia had no time for Bob and his chitchat. She looked at her watch. “I’ve got beds to make and the ornaments to get down from the attic. Bye.” Eugenia punched the red “end call” button with authority.

Bob looked at his phone and immediately dialed his wife Marge. “Hon, guess who is coming home for Christmas, Ella and Lukas Bergstrom! No Eugenia at our table this year.”

Marge, who was as skeptical as Bob was trusting, snorted into the phone. “Phhh. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

The next day brought an old-fashioned Nor’easter, dumping two feet of snow that wrapped the village in Christmassy magic overnight. Eugenia stood on her porch with her pug Calvin and contemplated digging some pathways for him to wander for his morning business. Just then, José Rodriguez from the church pulled up with his plow, gave a wave, and began clearing the driveway. Right behind him in her SUV was his wife Heather. She parked and climbed out, followed by the twins. While Heather slogged her way through the snow to the porch, the twins plied dueling snow shovels and cleared the front walk.

“Eugenia!” Heather greeted her older friend, “Isn’t it beautiful? I’m always dreaming of a white Christmas and just look at this!”

“I’ve been looking at it. I may dream about a lot of things, but a white Christmas isn’t one of them.” Eugenia answered.

“O, Eugenia! You know you love it. But hey, we want you to come over for Christmas dinner. José is going to deep fry a turkey on our outdoor patio stove. Sooooo good.”

Eugenia doubted that deep fried turkey could ever be good, but she smiled and patted Heather’s arm. “What a treat that will be. I’m afraid I have to decline. Lukas and Ella will be home for Christmas this year.”

“Really? Well, isn’t that nice?” In the fifteen years that Heather had lived in the village, Heather had never met either Ella or Lukas. They certainly had never been home for Christmas.

Eugenia saw that José had not only plowed the driveway, he had also cleaned off her car. And those twins had dug a labyrinth of trails for Calvin the pug to wander on his morning perambulation. Eugenia cleared her throat, “Duty and doo-doo await, Heather. Thank you, dear.”

Heather and the twins piled back into the SUV, José honked the horn on the truck, and Calvin tugged at the end of his leash, eager to explore his new trails.

On Christmas Eve morning, Eugenia was back in the kitchen, apron tied tight around her skinny frame. Lukas and family were already aboard a redeye flight out of San Diego. Ella’s shift at the trauma center would finish up at 1pm, and she would be headed north soon afterward. Eugenia was making the final plans for the Christmas Julbord, their traditional holiday buffet. Swedish meatballs? Check! Christmas ham? Check! Pickled herring? Present and accounted for! Smoked salmon? Ready! Potato casserole? Yes! Lussekatter buns? Yes! Eugenia had even gotten some sparkling cider. It was going to be perfect.

The first call came mid-morning. It was Lukas. She could barely hear him above a racket of static and amplified announcements in the background. “Momma!” he shouted into the phone.

“Lukas!” Eugenia shouted back.

“Momma, we’re grounded in Denver. Big storm in the Rockies.”

“Oh no!” Eugenia felt her heart sink. “It sounds like you won’t be home in time for the Christmas Eve service.”

“Momma,” Lukas shouted above the din, “Momma, you don’t understand. Turn on your tv. No one is going anywhere. The airline says they can rebook us for Saturday morning.”

Eugenia’s mind turned over the news, “But Lukas, you were only going to stay until Sunday. How can you come one day and go home the next? Is that even possible?”

“Not really, Momma. I’m so sorry. I think we’ll wait things out here in Colorado. Maybe we can get in some skiing. But let’s look at the calendar for a summer visit when we won’t have to worry about winter storms.” Eugenia could hear someone paging Lukas in the background. “I’ve gotta’ go, Momma. Love you.” The call ended.

Eugenia was buttoning her best blouse, the silk one with the smart bow tie, when the second call came. As she did every Christmas, Eugenia was one of the Christmas readers. She knew her lection practically by heart, having run it through in front of the mirror at least a dozen times. Eugenia peered at her phone. Uh oh. It was Ella.

“Momma?”

“Ella, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you on the road?”

“I’m still at the hospital trauma center. We’ve had a multi-vehicle accident on the throughway. It’s a mess, and I’m short-staffed. I’m going to be here all night.” Ella sounded tired. Eugenia had been proud when Ella landed the head of nursing job, but it hadn’t left her daughter with much of a life. It seemed like she was on duty or on call for every major holiday, but this year was supposed to be different.

“Isn’t there anyone who can cover for you, Ella? I’m just about to head to church. You could go home and rest then drive up first thing in the morning. I bet you could be here by noon. The Julbord will be waiting.”

“I’m sorry, Momma. I’ve got three nurses out with flu, more already on vacation, and this latest incident has got us scrambling. Maybe Friday? I don’t know. I’ll try. Love you.”

Eugenia looked down at her feet, where Calvin the pug was looking up at her with adoring eyes. She bent down and picked him up. He licked her face while she scratched under his fat chin. “Thank you for the kisses, Calvin. Looks like it’s just you and me again this year.”

On Christmas morning, Eugenia stood on the porch in her winter boots and down coat while Calvin sniffed and wandered through his front yard labyrinth. Maybe she should just sell the house and move into one of those senior apartments on the other side of town. Why was she hanging on to the old place anyway? Why was she keeping traditions that no one seemed to appreciate or have time for. She sighed and turned to go back inside. “Calvin, come!” she called. The fat little dog ran up the steps and through the front door.

The first knock on the door came at 4:00pm. She was heating the ham. Already the crockpot with Swedish meatballs and the buffet with herring, salmon, and Lussekatter were waiting for her in the dining room. Calvin sat watching her every move, licking his chops from time to time in anticipation of the tasty treats that he would sample later.

“Now, who in the world could that be?” Eugenia wondered, making her way to the front door.

It was Pastor Bob with Marge and Paul. Marge was carrying a well-swaddled casserole of scalloped potatoes and Bob was wearing a Santa hat. Paul, who had always had a sweet spot for the irascible Eugenia, gave her a hug.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Bob thundered while Paul rolled his eyes. “We were hoping to join you for Christmas dinner.”

Marge walked past Eugenia into the dining room and placed her potatoes on the buffet. “Smells great in here, Eugenia,” she called over her shoulder.

Feeling both flustered and pleased, Eugenia poured glasses of sherry for Bob and Marge and a flute of sparkling cider for Paul. She set three more places at the table. Just as she was checking the temperature on the ham, the doorbell rang again. She bustled into the hallway, saying in mock irritation, “What is this? Grand Central Station?”

On the porch was the entire Rodriguez family—Heather, Jose, and all five kids. Jose held a platter with an immense deep fried turkey that smelled delectable. “Merry Christmas!” all seven family members shouted at once. Heather pushed the kids into the foyer where boots, coats, hats, and gloves were jettisoned while Jose gave Eugenia a kiss on the cheek and began to recount the details of deep frying a turkey.

It was, perhaps, the nicest Christmas that Eugenia had celebrated, at least since Sten had died. Pastor Bob said the blessing. Then they all lifted their glasses of sherry and sparkling cider. But instead of saying, “To Poppa,” Bob said, “To our hostess with the mostest, Eugenia!”

“Here, here! To Eugenia!” every glass was lifted.

Later while Pastor Bob washed dishes and Eugenia dried, they visited about this and that. “You know, Bob, after Sten died, I always felt like I had to somehow make the perfect family.”

Bob listened, “Hmm.” He prompted her to go on.

“But sometimes families aren’t perfect.”

“I hear you, Eugenia.”

“But maybe family isn’t just about flesh and blood.” Eugenia paused to look out into the living room where the Rodriguez twins were tossing a ball for Calvin. “Maybe it’s also about the families God gives us. The families we make. Don’t you agree?”

Bob paused and nodded. He was glad that his glasses were fogged by steam rising from the sink because he suddenly felt a little teary. He dried his hands on his apron and put a brotherly arm around Eugenia’s narrow shoulders. “I couldn’t agree more, Eugenia. Merry Christmas.”

Matthew 1:18-25

18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be pregnant from the Holy Spirit. 19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to divorce her quietly. 20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

23 “Look, the virgin shall become pregnant and give birth to a son,
    and they shall name him Emmanuel,”

which means, “God is with us.” 24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife 25 but had no marital relations with her until she had given birth to a son, and he named him Jesus.

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A House Divided

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “A House Divided” 2 Sam. 18:5-9, 15, 31-33

Jill hasn’t seen her Mom in a decade. Both of Jill’s parents have struggled with alcoholism. Addiction cast a long, painful shadow over her childhood. When Jill started her own family, she hoped that things might change. She scheduled times for her mother to visit with the kids, but there were so many no-shows or last-minute cancellations. The last straw came when Jill’s Mom offered to watch the kids for the evening so that Jill and her husband could see a concert. When they arrived home near midnight, they found Mom passed out on the couch. The kids had never gotten dinner, and the baby was crying in a dirty diaper.

Carl is estranged from his father. Dad left the family when Carl was only eight years old. There were years of shared custody with Carl bouncing back and forth between his parents. But Carl’s father has a new family with a younger wife and small children. Carl’s dad was always too busy to come to Carl’s baseball games and didn’t show up for graduation. When Carl sees his father doting on those younger children, it hurts Carl’s heart. He doesn’t understand why his Dad doesn’t love him or make time for him.

Jenny and her brother Sam stopped speaking after their parents died. Sam always felt that Jenny was their favorite. They always sang Jenny’s praises, she was included in special vacations, and she received generous gifts, including a down payment for her home. When it was time to settle their parent’s estate, Sam learned that there was nothing left. Jenny had power of attorney and had spent his inheritance on a pricey renovation of her own home.

If we come from a family with painful, broken relationships, we are not alone. Seventy to eighty percent of Americans consider their families to be dysfunctional. Issues of violence, abuse, neglect, and addiction create a toxic, traumatic environment for children. Unhealthy boundaries, the inability to give love, and poor communication also lead to breakdowns in families and leave a lasting legacy of guilt and shame. One in four people experience estrangement from a family member. One in ten people say that they have a cut off, a total disconnection, in a relationship with a parent or a child. Our homes have been divided in painful ways, and we can feel powerless to change.

Our reading from Second Samuel is a final sad chapter in a lengthy tale of dysfunction in the family of King David. Last week, we learned that David’s misconduct was to have lasting consequences for his house. This week, it proves to be true. It started with David’s treatment of the women in his life. In his bid to forge alliances and secure his dynasty, David acquired eight wives and at least eleven concubines. In a patriarchal world, where women had no standing apart from their menfolk, we can imagine the bitter rivalry and hurt feelings in David’s house as younger, more nubile women were constantly added to David’s harem. Those bitter feelings passed to children, who longed for the love of an absent and unavailable father.

The trouble with David’s second son Absalom was nine years in the making. When older half-brother and heir-apparent Amnon raped Absalom’s sister Tamar, Absalom hoped that his father David would remedy the injustice. But David didn’t. Amnon was his favorite son, so the king was unwilling to enforce any discipline. After two years of waiting for his father to act, Absalom took justice into his own hands. He struck down Amnon and fled to the neighboring Kingdom of Geshur. David ignored him. After three years, David’s general Joab engineered a reconciliation between father and son. Absalom moved home, but his father continued to ignore him. After four more years of this, Absalom left Jerusalem for Hebron. There he launched a conspiracy to usurp his father.

It almost worked. David with his loyalists fled Jerusalem just ahead of Absalom’s advancing forces. The rebellious son moved into the royal palace and raped his father’s concubines. The victory was short-lived. Absalom’s upstart army was no match for David’s seasoned warriors. In the bloodbath that unfolded in the forest of Ephraim, Absalom’s escape was foiled when his abundant tresses caught in the downward reaching branches of an oak tree. It didn’t take long for Joab and his armor bearers to dispatch the rebel, repeatedly running him through with their spears.

The sad, sad tale ends with the sound of a father’s remorse. David cries, “My son, Absalom! My son, my son, Absalom! If only I had died instead of you!” We can well imagine the self-recrimination behind David’s lamentation. If only he had punished Amnon when he violated Tamar. If only he had protected and comforted his daughter. If only he had been truly reconciled with Absalom. If only he had not allowed Absalom to languish in the vacuum left by too little love, too little kindness, too little attention.

Our family dysfunction seems pretty tame when compared to David’s household. In fact, this is such an unpleasant chapter in David’s story that we might like to skip right over it, but that wouldn’t provide us with the real picture of David, who may have had a heart for God but also made a mess of his own family. In tackling this terrible tale head-on, we are granted the opportunity to ponder our own families. I’d like to suggest a few lessons that we can glean from today’s reading—with hope that they might be helpful as we seek wholeness in the midst of dysfunction

A first lesson is that we all need helpful people and caring places where we can find support and healing. Poor Absalom, raised in a household that pitted wife against wife and child against child! Poor Absalom, waiting for justice for his sexually abused sister! Poor Absalom, longing year after year for the love of his father. Absalom needed caring people with whom he could work through his trauma. Absalom needed a safe and caring place where he could find the love that his father would never provide. Sometimes we need mentors or counselors, pastors or churches, that can help us to heal. We who have known our own broken families, we who have done our own healing work, we can offer the caring presence and unconditional love that help to mend hurting hearts.

We may also find healing when we decide to make different choices for our lives and families. Absalom repeated his father’s sins. He had Amnon killed, much as David had Uriah killed. Absalom raped his father’s concubines, just as David raped Bathsheba. The apple didn’t fall far from that tree. Yet we can choose to not repeat the sins of others. We have the power to remember, reflect, and opt to behave in very different ways. Those of us, who never knew a parent’s approval, can make sure our kids know that they are loved unconditionally. Those who grew up in households with poor communication and deep, dark secrets can opt to live in the light and speak the truth. We who are plagued by shame and guilt can grab ahold of God’s mercy and trust that the grace of our Lord Jesus is always sufficient for us.

We can also rethink family. In some cases where there is intractable abuse or unresolved addiction, in some cases where there is untimely death or even suicide, we don’t find a satisfactory resolution for the pain and brokenness of our families. Yet it may still be possible to find some measure of peace and healing through the families that we make. When Jesus’s family thought he was crazy and wanted to end his ministry by taking him back home to Nazareth, Jesus found in his friends and disciples the kinship and love that he needed. Jesus pointed to his companions and said, “Here are my mother, and brothers, and sisters.” May we find and be for one another the families of necessity that help us to heal, grow, and endure.

Finally, we can remember that we are not alone in the struggle. God is with us. God knows how it feels to be despised and rejected. God knows how it feels when addiction or greed or violence becomes the self-destructive idol of our beloved one. God knows what it is like to lose a grown son. God weeps with David over the loss of Absalom. God weeps with Jill over the chronic problem of her Mom’s alcoholism. God weeps with Carl over his absentee Dad. God weeps with Sam over the betrayal of his sister Jenny. God weeps with us in the chaos of trauma and dysfunction. We can trust that we have a holy helper. Thanks be to God.

Seventy to eighty percent of Americans may consider their families to be dysfunctional, but there is hope for us yet. May we find the helping people and places that we need. May we make some different choices for our lives. May we forge from those around us the family of our necessity. May we trust that God holds the hope and healing for a better tomorrow for our families.

Resources

Ted A. Smith. “Commentary on 2 Sam18:5-9, 15, 31-33” in Preaching This Week, August 9, 2009. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Robert Hoch. “Commentary on 2 Sam18:5-9, 15, 31-33” in Preaching This Week, August 12, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Ralph W. Klein. “Commentary on 2 Sam18:5-9, 15, 31-33” in Preaching This Week, August 9, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Timothy Adkins-Jones. “Commentary on 2 Sam18:5-9, 15, 31-33” in Preaching This Week, August 8, 2021. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Soulaima Gourani. “What Does Having A ‘Real’ Family Mean?” in Forbes Magazine, Nov. 24, 2019. Accessed online at What Does Having A “Real” Family Mean? (forbes.com)

Kui Mwai. “Why So Many People (Myself Included) Are Experiencing Family Estrangement” in Vogue: Culture, May 2, 2024. Accessed online at Why So Many People (Myself Included) Are Experiencing Family Estrangement | Vogue

Photo by Liza Summer on Pexels.com

Welcome to the Family

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Welcome to the Family” Mark 3:20-35

In October of 1892, the Presbytery of Champlain received an unusual gift: Johnson’s Island, a one-acre rocky isle in Upper Saranac Lake. The island was the dream of three of Plattsburgh’s biggest movers and shakers. Chief among them was Smith Weed, the one-time President of Plattsburgh and six-time state assemblyman, known for smoking as many as nine cigars in a day. Smith hoped to enlist the Champlain Presbytery in launching an ecumenical summer chapel to serve both visitors and year ‘round residents to the lake. There was a big string attached to the gift: the Presbytery would need to build a church on Johnson’s Island within the year. The trustees of the Presbytery met the challenge. After all, they were on a building streak, launching little mission churches across the Adirondacks, having begun with our church—this very sanctuary—in 1890. Soon Johnson’s Island had a new name, Chapel Island, and in 1893 the little summer church was christened the Island Chapel.

My introduction to the Island Chapel came in 2005, not long after my arrival at this church. The late John Fitch called me up and persuaded me to trade this pulpit on a summery Sunday for the one at the Island Chapel. John and Anne were longtime servants to the ministry there. In fact, as soon as the Fitches had returned from sunny Florida, the ice was out, and the water was warm enough, John had me out in their Crisscraft, circumnavigating Chapel Island. Most years, I preach at the Island Chapel. And when John, and then Newt Greiner, retired from the role of Clergy Coordinator, they drafted me to do the job for seven years. I found it fascinating that I could find folks to preach on Chapel Island for the ten Sundays of summer faster than I could find one minister to supply the pulpit on any one given Sunday in Saranac Lake.

Over the years, things have changed. In 1956, a picnic fire on Chapel Island bloomed into a major conflagration that consumed the original Victorian chapel. A new Adirondack-style structure rose from the ashes in 1958. With the decline of North Country population and the closing of small churches, the Presbytery of Champlain was forced to join forces with the St. Lawrence Presbytery to form the Presbytery of Northern New York in the 1960s. Yet things have stayed the same, the ecumenical ministry that shares the love of Christ on Chapel Island continues. Indeed, in 2014, the ministry received a Tauny Award for their longstanding commitment to living local cultural heritage. But even good things sometimes need to change. Three years ago, the Presbytery of Northern New York realized that their declining resources meant they could no longer sponsor the Island Chapel.

Change can be hard, whether we are talking about modern day churches or we are considering the changes that Jesus brought to his first century world. As Jesus healed, forgave sins, and preached the good news of God’s Kingdom, he faced increasing opposition. Last week, we learned of powerful enemies rising among the Pharisees and followers of King Herod. This week, we heard the story of two further conflicts, one with Jesus’ family and the other with scribes from the Temple in Jerusalem.

Let’s start with Jesus’s kin. It must have been tough for them when Jesus announced he was trading his carpenter’s hammer for a rabbi’s tallith.  In the first century, sons followed in their father’s footsteps. Mother Mary and the siblings had a host of expectations for Jesus as the oldest son, expectations that he was not fulfilling. Jesus belonged in Nazareth, running the family business.  He should have been out bidding on jobs and teaching his brothers building skills.  He should have been caring for his widowed mother and arranging marriages for his younger sisters. In addition to those failed expectations, Jesus had made enemies of powerful people who controlled the political and religious landscape of Israel.  Messing with King Herod, the Pharisees, and the scribes—was he crazy?

The family thought they were doing the right thing when they knocked on the door of the house where Jesus was staying, intent on restraining him.  The Greek word that Mark uses for restrain—krateo—means to lay hands on, seize, and forcibly detain someone. Mary and the siblings loved Jesus, so they were going to take him home, restore the right order, and keep him safe. The only problem, of course, was that Jesus had a higher calling, a different sort of family obligation to his heavenly Father. That holy purpose superseded any claim that the Nazareth clan could make. Discerning the intent of his family to derail his mission and God’s purpose, Jesus wisely declined their invitation.

In the midst of this family feud, Jesus had the biggest Bible scholars of the day on his back. The scribes didn’t like what Jesus taught, they didn’t care for the rabble who hung on his every word, and they couldn’t explain Jesus’s amazing miracles.  So, they decided to discredit him, accusing him of being in league with the devil. If Jesus sounded put out by this in our reading, it’s because the scribes were making the unforgiveable mistake of saying that God is the devil. Yikes! It’s this sort of essential difference of understanding that would split the family of first century Judaism. Traditionalists, who denied the new thing that God was doing in Jesus, would ultimately reject and cast out those who saw the holy power of Jesus and trusted that he was Messiah and Lord.

Over and against the cultural and religious expectations of kinfolk and scribes, Jesus described a new sort of family that would supplant the ties of Temple and blood. It’s the family of faith. Anyone who does the will of God, anyone who serves God’s Kingdom, can become a member. As Jesus looked around the home where he was staying, he saw men and women devoted to loving God and neighbor. They were like sisters and brothers. When Jesus was under attack by those powerful opponents, when he was at odds with his kin, he turned to God and his friends in the faith. There he found the support and encouragement that he would need to persevere in a gospel ministry that would ultimately send him to the cross. In the long years to follow, Jesus’ followers would likewise depend upon this new notion of kinship, as they faced rejection by families and persecution by Temple and empire.

At this church, we know the beauty and goodness of a family of faith, don’t we? Look around. These are the people who are in our corner when we feel at odds with the world. They show up with hot dishes when we are bouncing back from big surgeries or big losses. They give us a call when they haven’t seen us in a while. They get down on their knees and pray for us. They teach our children. They feed us in Coffee Hour. They join us in wrestling with the big questions of scripture and faith. They walk with us for CROP Walk, Sermons on the Trail, and through the darkest valley. Thank goodness for the family of faith!

Today we welcome to our family of faith our friends who minister at the Island Chapel. Last summer, as they came to grips with the Presbytery’s decision to part ways, I was visited by Ross Whaley and Will Main, who have served the Island Chapel for years. They wondered, would our church be willing and able to come alongside them as sisters and brothers in faith to fill the gap that was being left behind by the Presbytery? Our Session and the executive committee for the Island Chapel appointed a taskforce to discern together what a shared ministry might look like.

Thank you to Anita Estling, Pam Martin, Kim Weems, David Fitch, Will and Leslie Main, Ross Whaley, and Pam Werner, who served with me on the taskforce. We zoomed a lot. We thought about the finer points of Presbyterian polity. We developed a memorandum of understanding. We sought appropriate insurance, titles, and registrations. We dreamed about the Island Chapel finding in this church a new sponsor and supporter for their good news. We dreamed of this church embracing the Island Chapel as an ecumenical summer outreach ministry. We think we’ve got it figured out. Today, with a time of commissioning, we welcome and celebrate our sisters and brothers from Chapel Island.

Change can be hard, whether we are considering the changes that Jesus brought to his first century world, or we are speaking of the shifting networks of support that come in dwindling twenty-first century mainline denominations. Yet change can be a blessing as we follow Jesus and serve God’s Kingdom. As we celebrate a new kinship between the First Presbyterian Church of Saranac Lake and the Island Chapel ministry, may we find the same sort of support, encouragement, and holy purpose that Jesus and his friends found in one another. Welcome to the family. Amen.

Resources

C. Clifton Black. “Commentary on Mark 3:20-35” in Preaching This Week, June 9, 2024. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 3:20-35 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary.

James Boyce. “Commentary on Mark 3:20-35” in Preaching This Week, June 7, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 3:20-35 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary.

Matt Skinner. “Commentary on Mark 3:20-35” in Preaching This Week, June 7, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 3:20-35 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Wikipedia Contributors. “Smith Mead Weed” in Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, January 12,  2024. Accessed online at https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Smith_Mead_Weed&oldid=1195036261

Nathan Ovalle. “Lost in history: Smith Weed’s legacy fading with time” in The Press Republican, Dec. 14, 2014. Accessed online at Lost in history: Smith Weed’s legacy fading with time | Local News | pressrepublican.com

Seaway Abstract Corporation. “Abstract of Title to An Island, Town of Harrietstown, Franklin County #978” December 10, 1985.

Mark 3:20-35

20and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. 21When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.” 22And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.” 23And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables, “How can Satan cast out Satan? 24If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. 25And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. 26And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come. 27But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered.

28“Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; 29but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”— 30for they had said, “He has an unclean spirit.”

31Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. 32A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” 33And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” 34And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! 35Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”