ADVENT WINTER WONDER NIGHT December 7, 2025
ADVENT Winter Wonder Night
As we approach this Lenten Season, we do so having prepared a series of short devotionals to prayerfully and hopefully enhance this Season of our own Spiritual Journeys. We have asked congregants to enrich this Season with their reflections using the theme: “Come With Me A Lenten Journey With Jesus” As the disciples walked with Jesus learning what it meant to live as one called Jesus’s God... may we hear or have a new or enriched life or newly inspired journey with God’s Gift of Jesus, and later, in mystery and wonder, the gift and message of becoming the RISEN CHRIST! May our journey as Disciples be enriched this Lenten Season. Prepared prayerfully by: Rev. Susan Shafer Senior Minister Emerita Ms. Bonnie Matthaidess Spiritual Director David Stith Director of Communications Featuring contributions from: Bob Castle, Charlotte Craig, Martha Woodward Tuke, Glenn Peck, Diana Louise Carter, Johanna, Tim and Sean Mahan, Gary Craig, Carol Kramer, Mary Church-Smith, Bonnie Matthaidess, and Rev. Susan Shafer. All pictures are released under Creative Commons CC0 into the public domain.
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Introduction
Jesus does not begin Lent by asking us to do more, try harder or fix ourselves. He simply says, “Come With Me.” Before the wilderness, before the cross, before the work of love that will cost him everything, Jesus calls us into presence. Lent begins not with striving, but with companionship. To be with Jesus is to sit honestly—bringing our weariness, our questions, our hope, our unfinished faith. It is to allow ourselves to be seen and loved without condition. In this season of slowing down, Jesus invites us to step away from productivity and rest in His nearness. When we are with him, we learn again who we are. When we are with him, our burdens lighten. When we are with him, love quietly reshapes us. Lent is not about proving devotion; it is about deepening relationship. Each prayer, each moment of stillness, each small act of kindness becomes a way of answering His call. Today, hear Jesus gently say your name. Come. Sit. Be with me. Jesus, help me resist the urge to rush ahead. Teach me to stay with you—to listen, to trust, and to rest in your presence. Amen
Bonnie Matthaidess
"Remember You Are Dust" Lawrence OP
Ash Wednesday February 18
Ash Wednesday
Come with me... A Lenten Journey
“Yet, even now,” declares the Lord, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and mourning.” Joel 2:12 At Asbury First, before the sermon begins, there is an invitation to “Breathe.” We are called to be intentional in taking a break, to be present to the moment and be grounded. I find this a welcome interruption from the business of the day. I recently read that Ash Wednesday interrupts us. It cuts through the noise of ordinary days and reminds us that life is not infinite, that our choices matter and that Jesus is calling us to “Come With Me.” The ashes on our foreheads are not meant to shame us but to wake us up and the ashes remind us that “We are dust” that “We are loved dust.” Ash Wednesday is not to darken the days of Lent, but to interrupt our autopilot settings. It calls us to honestly name the habits that have hardened us or to recognize the distractions that numb us or cause hopelessness and... to turn back. It is time to turn towards Jesus’ invitation to “Come With Me.” Come with me. I’m by your side and let us together turn towards the Light as we journey through each day. This Lent, be interrupted. This Lent, let grace be in your turning. This Lent, let us turn toward Jesus invitation, “Come With Me.
"And Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit to Galilee" Vasily Polenov (1890)
Week One
First Sunday in Lent February 22
Growing up, I never would have imagined myself responding to an invitation to follow Jesus. Although I attended church with my family, I preferred ushering as an excuse to loiter in the back with my cousins. While my parents were deeply compassionate people, they seldom explicitly linked their values to a life of faith. When my wife, Barb, and I joined Asbury First, our goal was to provide our three children with a faith foundation so they could eventually choose their own paths. I didn’t expect that it would be my children who would lead me. Each year, they returned from youth mission trips with a profound appreciation for the struggles of others and a call to serve those in need. By the spring of 2006, six months after Hurricane Katrina, their examples prompted me to act. I traveled to the Gulf Coast with Barb and our good friend Rick Kuemmpel to assist in the recovery effort. We worked full days helping rebuild lives, and at night, we slept in the sanctuary of a small rural church that had become a lifeline for its devastated community. That first trip sparked other adult mission trips to New Orleans, Kentucky, the Southern Tier, and several Habitat Blitz Builds in Florida. What began with my parent’s compassion and my children’s example has evolved into Jesus’ invitation to “Come With Me.” Heavenly Father, Thank you for the way You pursue us, even when we loiter. We thank you for the examples of compassion we see in our lives. We thank you for the gift of youth and the way their simple, bold faith can redirect our own hearts toward Your calling. In Christ’s name, Amen
Bob Castle
"Contemplation" Vasily Polenov (1890)
As I reflect on my Lenten journey with Jesus, I thought about the times I needed his presence as I faced problems that felt solvable and the ones that felt insurmountable. I looked for guidance for small daily problems. I asked for help without even realizing I was asking. I knowingly reached out to him for the overwhelming problems, those problems that did not appear to have solutions. The problems that threatened to change my life forever. Those problems. I reflected on my small daily problems: misplaced glasses, a snow-covered car, the cat vomiting. The daily types of problems that have immediate solutions. I probably pray for patience, but it is buried deep in my subconscious as I race to make things right. I know how to solve the little problems. I have faith. I reflected on the less frequent problems that are inconvenient: the garage door broke, the washing machine hose sprung a leak causing a river in our basement, a bat flew by my head while I was watching TV alone one evening. I squelch my panic by reminding myself that these types of problems can be solved with help. Again, I have faith in my ability to figure it out. I pray for guidance, but not fully aware that I am doing so. As for the bat… I was blessed to have a neighbor with a fishing net. I reflected on the insurmountable problems. Both my parents have dementia, two family members were diagnosed with cancer this year, a sibling refuses treatment for mental illness. I grapple with the grief of losing people while they are still alive. Faith in myself is faith in Jesus. I can accept these problems and continue to move forward because I am never without his presence. Dear Jesus, help us trust in your faithful promise to be with us in whatever life brings. Amen
Charlotte Craig
Week Two
Second Sunday in Lent March 1
Martha Woodward Tuke
During this sacred season of Lent, I find myself reflecting on my journey after my mother’s recent passing. I wondered how I would move forward without her. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, despite her readiness. As I sat by her bedside until the end, I softly recited Isaiah 41:10 for her comfort, trusting in God's promise to be with us in our final moments: "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God." It wasn’t until later that I realized in speaking those words for her, I was speaking to my own heart, seeking reassurance for myself in this new and uncertain chapter I now faced. These words became a balm, soothing my fears and filling my heart with peace, then and now. This Lent, I am encouraged to accept Jesus’ invitation—to come closer, to lean on His strength, and to find comfort in His presence. In this journey, I realize that even in loss, His love remains steadfast, transforming our sorrow into trust and hope as we step into what lies ahead. I am comforted that God's hand is holding us, that His love surpasses all, even in the finality of goodbyes. I am grateful for this grace and gentle reminder. In trusting His love, I find comfort and peace, knowing that the light of Easter will shine brighter after the darkness. Lord Jesus, grant us the grace to walk through our darkness with trust in Your light and love.
"The Temptation in the Wilderness" Briton Riviére (circa 1898)
A beloved Senior Minister Emerita often reminded me to look for Jesus in the faces of those around me. We might all agree that success in such an endeavor can be at times elusive, while at other times, the presence of Jesus can be unmistakable. An example of the latter remains in the forefront of my mind, as I frequently revisit a rather bleak Sunday morning in October, 2024. It was then, following a very long first night in the hospital that I awoke to the realization that I was suffering full left-side paralysis. And there, in the face of an angel nurse named Zulma, came a caring Jesus. Soon after, a loving Jesus arrived from home in the face of my favorite angel of all. And indeed, while I couldn’t see it, the sounds of a suffering Jesus pierced the air from the other side of the curtain, reminding me that I was not the only one with a desire for healing this day. The truth is, Jesus was all around (I heard He was even in church, where I had been scheduled to deliver the Stewardship Moment that morning). I can testify to these truths with confidence because I was fully alive and alert to witness it all in real time. Within hours of this potentially demoralizing diagnosis, and for certain, life-altering event, Lynn was reaching out to family and friends with a message indicating that, while the physical condition was sobering, the spirit was strong. “He’s still Glenn!”, I would hear her say. And it was true. Everything that Jesus had taught us was coming back to us in the form of light in a very dark moment. All these months later, that light continues to shine. Jesus is always present. In faces, in-person and via Zoom. In voices. In cards. On social media. In live-stream church. In prayers received. In meditation. From where I sit (nay, stand!), the physical recovery has not kept pace with the spirit. So, yes, we must acknowledge that we can’t do the things we used to do. And there is a painful truth in that. But we can also affirm that we can still be what we have always been, and in that truth lies the key to continued spiritual healing and growth. This is but one lesson of the Gospel. Nonetheless, it is a lesson that will last a lifetime. And beyond. “Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.” – Matthew 5:8 (KJV)
Glenn Peck
"The Sermon on the Mount" Carl Bloch (circa 1870)
Week Three
Third Sunday in Lent March 8
I called myself agnostic for about 15 years before New Year’s Day 1997. On that day, we spent the afternoon and evening with friends on the Southern Tier. But as my husband, Jim, our 5-month-old daughter, Amelia, and I headed home to Rochester, the weather turned nasty. Jim negotiated the worst hills near Naples, only to be foiled by icy slush just south of Bristol Mountain. Our station wagon first slid close to the steep drop off on the right. Then it slid left. Seemingly in slow motion, the car careened into the ditch on the far side and rolled over, coming to a stop on its roof. We all were suspended by our seat belts. Jim turned off the engine; I unbuckled myself and worked on getting our crying baby out of her car seat. The driver’s side window had broken during the roll over, so Jim was able to crawl out. I handed Amelia to him and crawled out myself in time to see emergency workers arriving. An ambulance took us to Thompson Hospital in Canandaigua to check over the baby while a tow truck was summoned for our car. Our friends graciously picked us up from the hospital and drove us home before returning to their four kids. Riding in their car, I looked at my sleeping child and reflected on how we three survived with a single scratch—Jim had nicked his finger on the broken window. In that moment, I prayed, “Thank you, Jehovah.”
Diana Louise Carter
Johanna, Tim and Sean Mahan
When, we Sean’s mother and father asked him if he remembered a time when he felt Jesus was with him, he immediately said “All the time.” We then asked him about a time that he especially felt Jesus was in his heart, and he said, “when I read scripture to Opa”. When Dick Wilke was in hospice care at home, he asked if Sean would come read his favorite scripture to him. Sean was asked to describe the experience, and the following is what he said: “I wasn’t sure what to think because I had never met Opa before, but when I met him, I was so happy. I could feel God’s spirit on me when I was sitting next to him, and God was filling my body with love when I read the scripture. I felt loved by the spirit and I was feeling love from Opa. Even though Opa couldn’t talk because he was so weak, I still liked showing my love for him. I liked holding Opa’s hand as he was preparing to go to Heaven. I felt happy for Opa because he was going up to Heaven and he wouldn’t feel any more pain. I said a prayer for him as he was closing his eyes.” Thank you God for your words and your love.
Week Four
Fourth Sunday in Lent March 15
Gary Craig
I should start with an admission: I’m not the most religious person. It is the tenets of Christianity – and similar tenets reside in the Quran and Torah – that I try to follow. Perhaps, though, this is why those moments when I do feel the presence of something greater than ourselves are all the more clear, including one that now dates back decades. In 1968 I lost my parents and younger brother in a small plane crash. We then attended a Southern Baptist church – the more progressive variety. We traveled from North Carolina to Roanoke, Virginia, where much of my family resided, in a corporate plane provided by the company that my father, a pilot, flew for. Joining us was our minister. I cannot tell you the exact words he spoke, but I know that, somehow, during the flight, he soothed me and my pains and fears. It was as if he were channeling something beyond us, be it God, be it Jesus, be it a spiritual kindness that he derived from his keen faith in both. How meaningful was that presence? So meaningful that I still feel the presence nearly 50 years later, as I write this. Somehow, though only 8, I felt as if all would be all right. And it was. I will always recall speaking to Margie and Susan of “the last, the least, the lost” in regards to some of my work as a journalist. As a youth, amid the tragedy, I could easily have been among the lost, were it not for the guiding hand of our minister and his words. Now, more than ever, let us not forget the last, the least, the lost, just as Jesus never did.
I’ve been following the story of the Buddhist monks Walk for Peace, a spiritual pilgrimage that is unfolding as these monks dressed in orange walk some 2,300 miles in single file across the United States. We’re told their guiding purpose is to demonstrate a living expression of unity, compassion, loving kindness and nonviolence as they press on in our land that is fraught with division. I’m drawn to their witness for unity and peace and hear the invitation to “Come, Press On.” For me, since I was a young child, I’ve been following the story, the person of Jesus and in part because of the dear people who touched my life as living witnesses – those who “walked their talk.” They presented to me Jesus of unity, compassion, loving kindness and nonviolence. They accepted me unconditionally with the assurance that Jesus does as well. I hear “Come, Press On.” And this brings me to the season of Lent of 2026 hearing the invitation from Jesus to “Come with Me. Press On.” Knowing my call is not to walk 2300 miles, it is to authentically “walk my talk.” Knowing it is that Jesus brought Light and that Light dwells in me, it is to shine where I’m planted with my family, neighbors and friends. Knowing each act of kindness reflects Jesus’ kindness calls me to Press On. Friends, may we together, listen carefully to “Come with Me” and respond from the heart. It is through us that Jesus is alive in our world today. Jesus, fill us with your Presence that we may reflect you to our corner of the world. Amen.
Fifth Sunday in Lent March 22
Week Five
Rev. Susan Shafer
In my own Spiritual Journey I have never known on which “road” or interaction or intersection the Spirit of Jesus might be or may appear, or be felt, or inspire me—It just happens! Recently, it was at a birthday party with new friends of a dear friend of mine. We were each invited to tell a bit about ourselves. A woman to my left began by telling us of her walking the whole Camino de Santiago. You may know of this amazing and very difficult challenge in one’s life. She walked the whole trail alone in the hot, hot, heat of the summer months. Without naming it, she described a circle of shade surrounding her as she walked. The scene has been on my heart for over a week. I know that shade and its “saving grace.” What an experience and a visual to hold tight to in the midst of this Lenten season and all seasons of our lives. What a promise! The Psalmist speaks of this shade in Psalm 121... A “shade” and “comfort” Jesus must have known by heart. The Lord is your keeper. The Lord is your shade on your right hand. The sun shall not smite you Nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you. The Lord will keep your life. Psalm 121:5-7
"The Agony in the Garden" Andrea Mantegna (1455)
“Come With Me.” What a gentle invitation at a time when we are overwhelmed by events near and far that send the opposite message. When I read about people in all types of situations being treated inhumanely, I wonder about the humanity of the leaders of our country and institutions. I wonder how officers of any policing or correctional agency lost the ability to see people who are “different” as individuals worthy of respectful interactions. When I meet someone new in my neighborhood, at church, at a social event, or some other random place, I hope they feel welcomed, respected, and safe. It should not be hard to share that feeling with others. I find it easy enough in most situations. I understand there are events and places that are not so welcoming, but I truly believe that approaching others with respect can go a long way towards a peaceful resolution instead of an escalation of violence, hatred, and misunderstanding. I fear for the officers, I fear for the immigrants, I fear for the young men of color so often looked at with suspicion. I fear for the citizens who show up to support those being targeted by law enforcement of any kind. I am appalled by the leaders who embrace the negative point of view that others are not deserving of respectful treatment. I hope and pray we can return to a “kinder, gentler nation” that is filled with people who say “Come With Me” to a welcoming place with hope for the future for everyone.
Carol Kramer
Holy Week
Palm Sunday March 29
The procession for our Palm Sunday worship at Asbury First will fill the air with our Hosannas and our palms waving high. Yes, Palm Sunday is this mix of celebration and quiet humility remembering Jesus riding into Jerusalem simply riding on a borrowed donkey. I read about a woman who experienced a tragic loss and her friends said to her, “Your heart must be broken.” She answered, “Yes, it is. It is broken open!” I found this true for me as well. In a time of deep sorrow following the deaths of both my son and husband within three months, my heart was broken open to receive the Presence of God whether in my tearfulness or in times of fond remembering. This gentle, assurance was there when most needed. I am most grateful. As we step into Holy Week, may we be open to the gentle ways Jesus comes to us.
"Battesimo e Tentazioni di Cristo" Paolo Veronese (circa 1582)
Holy Monday March 30
My Lenten Devotion was greatly impacted by the week of January 26, 2026. Lent is described as a season of darkness, a season of preparation as we move toward the Resurrection on Easter Sunday. In Matthew 4, there is turmoil as Jesus calls his disciples to follow him and “fish for people.” Doesn’t “political turmoil” feel familiar? John the Baptist is arrested and Jesus is propelled forward to proclaim the Good News. Yet it is precisely in this moment that Jesus steps forward to proclaim the good news. Rev. Dr. Michelle recently remarked , “Light does not wait for safety; it moves into the dark.” Jesus is concerned with answering the call, which reminds me of Micah 6:8: “What does the Lord require of you?” Comparing Micah alongside Matthew —especially in a time when political turmoil feels like the norm—I find myself asking, how do I answer that call? How do I “fish for people?” How can I use my God-given strengths to bring more justice, peace, and humanity into our communities, so that every child of God can live into their own gifts? We are not alone when we are called, even when it feels that way. God is with us, and so are countless others quietly engaging in small, sometimes unseen acts of resistance to evil and injustice. Their work does not excuse us from action; rather, it invites us to join in. Our gifts and strengths differ, but they are all needed. Together, we are called to seek justice, get into good trouble, resist evil, and walk humbly with our God. Let us bring light into the darkness, together.
Mary Church-Smith
Maundy Thursday April 2
"Christ Washing the Feet of the Disciples" Garofalo (circa 1520)
It was some years ago now, yet my memory of that Maundy Thursday evening is as clear as if it happened last Maundy Thursday. The Pastoral staff had decided to enact Jesus’ washing the feet of the disciples prior to the sitting at table and sharing Communion. We offered this tradition to any that wanted to try having a pastor wash their feet. Many opted to try it... basins of warm sudsy water were brought to each pastor and we washed and oiled each set of feet that came to us. It was humbling for each pastor as it became humbling for each who risked the unusual sacred practice. The Holiness was transforming... the sense of being a servant of God to another walking on the dusty road of life gave me a deep understanding of what it means to be truly a part of the servanthood ministry with Jesus. Transforming... humbling... sacred... Holy. No thought given to calluses, crooked toes, lumps or bumps. Just being a servant to another as Jesus had taught. “And tied a towel around Himself, He poured water into a basin and began to wash the Disciples’ feet.”
Good Friday April 3
Years ago now, (Yikes! 30 years have gone bye) since we made the decision to change our Good Friday service to incorporate artwork with sacred music, hymns, and Scripture. It has become an inspiring service and leaving one always feeling the invitation of Jesus’ gift of the Crucified Christ, over and over again. It is a time for self-reflection as well as the over-whelming sense of what Jesus has done for us. At this writing, in anticipation for this Holy Day, I remember that well known call of Jesus written By Teresa of Avila that perhaps you remember As well. May we pray that the Crucifixion is our call to “Come With Me” along our dusty road of life and live out the call of Jesus and the Presence Of Christ. Christ has no body now on earth but yours. no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ’s compassion is to look out to the world. Yours are the feet with which Christ is to go about doing good. Yours are the hands with which Christ is to bless all people now. We pray that our lives, blessed by Christ, will bring love, faith and hope to all we meet and to those for whom we pray. Amen
"Eruption" Marla Friedrich
Easter April 5
We rejoice! We sing our Alleluias! Christ has Risen! Christ has Risen Indeed! And in your Easter rejoicing, you are invited to slowly ponder the images of this painting, Eruption, created by my artist friend, Marla Friedrich. Note the shape of the heart buried in darkness.Experience the energy of the upward movement in the dots of color as they erupt joyfully shouting RESURRECTION! It’s as though Jesus tells us He has come from a broken place, that He knows our dark times and that we, too, will break free into Resurrection! Recently, a dear friend moved from long-suffering into the Light of Resurrection. She is sadly missed. Her Christmas gift to me was an amaryllis bulb that had slowly been peeking through the darkness of the earth – to amazingly break into full bloom and incredible beauty the day she died. Through my tears the Light of Christ that dwelt in her, erupted like the dots of color in the painting and in the blossoming. The Light of Christ lives on in this breaking forth and lives on in the eyes of her children and grandchildren and embodied within me. Alleluia, Alleluia!
And Now, Come Follow Me