Christ is born! Let us glorify him!

This ancient Christian greeting echoes across centuries, reminding us that Christmas is not a moment to rush past, but a mystery to dwell within.

As early as 567 A.D., the church formally set aside the twelve days between Christmas and Epiphany as a sacred and festive season. Advent was understood as a time of fasting and preparation, so that Christmas itself could be received not as a single day, but as a full season of joy, celebration, and wonder.

That extended celebration continued through the Middle Ages and well into the early modern era. Yet today—especially here in America—Christmastide often fades quickly into a blur of post-Christmas sales, gift returns, and New Year’s resolutions. The tree comes down, the lights go dark, and we move on.

But in our Christian tradition, Christmas is not a day—it is a season.
A season in which we celebrate the gift of Emmanuel: God with us.

Too often, we spend far more energy preparing for Christmas than actually living in it.

So this season, linger a little longer. Leave the decorations up. Before counting calories or making resolutions, enjoy the Christmas cookies you baked or were given. Keep giving gifts—especially gifts of kindness, generosity, and service. And don’t rush past the greeting just yet. Continue to wish one another a Merry Christmas. Or Happy Christmastide. Or even dare to proclaim the ancient words aloud:

Christ is born!
Let us glorify him!

May this holy season continue to fill your home and your heart with light, joy, and the deep assurance that God is still with us—now and always.

Grace and peace,
Pastor Kevin

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Standing Room Only and Full of Grace

Dear Friends at Grace,

This past week, I found myself grinning almost the entire evening as I had the joy of participating in the Jacob’s Learning Ladder Christmas program. I had the honor of accompanying on guitar while our preschoolers sang familiar carols, and the Christmas story was shared by their teachers and lovingly acted out by alumni of the preschool.

The children sang their hearts out, Silent Night, Feliz Navidad, Twinkle Twinkle Christmas Star, and more, and they did a wonderful job. But what made the night especially meaningful was not just the music. It was looking out and seeing the Great Room completely full, literally standing room only, with parents, grandparents, relatives, and friends gathered to support these children and the ministry of Jacob’s Learning Ladder.

That kind of turnout does not happen by accident. It is a powerful witness to the deep commitment of the teachers and staff of the preschool, and to the congregation’s ongoing support of this vital ministry of our church. Through Jacob’s Learning Ladder, we continue to plant small seeds of faith, seeds that will be nurtured by God and revealed in ways we may never fully see. And yet, on this night, we caught a glimpse of that holy work unfolding. The Spirit was clearly at work in the lives of these children and their families.

I want to express my deepest gratitude to Director Stephanie Cryderman, Assistant Director Betty-Jo Freeman, and the entire Jacob’s Learning Ladder staff, as well as to our church staff here at Grace, for their care, creativity, and dedication. What a gift it is to be part of a congregation that so fully embraces this ministry.

I will confess, it certainly put me in the holiday spirit. More than that, it reminded me of the quiet, joyful ways God continues to show up among us, singing through young voices and gathering us together in love.

See you in church!

With gratitude and joy,
Pastor Kevin

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Where Grief Meets Grace

Beloved Grace Family,
Last Monday we gathered for our Silent Night service—a tender, holy time to hold our grief in God’s presence. Together we shared the light of Christ and the hope of the resurrection as we read scripture, prayed, sang, and gathered at Christ’s Table with the saints who now rest in God’s eternal embrace. It was one of those moments when the Spirit seemed to breathe through the room, reminding us that the long, winding road of grief is one we never walk alone.
I’ll admit I was surprised by my own grief. As I opened the service and read the cries of the psalmist, something in me trembled. My father died last January, and even after months of healing, the ache can rise without warning. Grief is funny like that—sudden, sharp, uninvited. But I cannot imagine a better time or place to feel it than in the company of God’s people: not avoiding or pushing it away, but sitting with it, offering it to the One who holds all our tears.
I am deeply grateful for the Grace family, especially in moments like this, and for everyone whose care and preparation made the service possible.
After the service, I was introduced to a woman who had been in the building for a separate event upstairs. One of our ushers invited her to join us. When I met her, she was sitting quietly with another member of Grace. She told me that 25 years ago to the day, she lost her husband in a plane crash. The final hymn we sang—“When Peace, Like a River,” also known as “It Is Well with My Soul”—was the hymn sung at his funeral. She was moved to tears, and so grateful she had wandered into worship that night.
I could not help but feel that God’s Spirit had woven our paths together for that moment—quiet consolation, shared memory, and the tender strength of Christian community.
Friends, grief will always be part of our journey, but so will grace. And I am thankful to walk this road with you.
See you in church.
Peace,
Pastor Kevin

 

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The Gift of Advent

As early as I can remember, I have loved the season of Advent. Every year, the church seemed to transform overnight—evergreens appearing in familiar corners, candles set out with care, paraments shifting from green to purple. And always, the music changed. My father, who was a church choir director, insisted that we hold off on the Christmas carols until Christmas Eve. At the time, I wasn’t sure why—but over the years I’ve come to cherish those Advent hymns, with their longing, their hope, their gentle invitation to watch and wait.

Some of my fondest memories are of the traditions after worship—hot spiced cider warming our hands, homemade cookies passed across fellowship hall tables, conversations lingering a bit longer in the glow of twinkle lights. Yet the ritual that has stayed with me the most happened not at church, but around our kitchen table.

Each week of Advent, we would gather as a family to light the candles on our home Advent wreath. We read a short scripture, sang a verse of a hymn, and one of us children would ask, “Why do we light these candles?” It was a simple liturgy, but one that formed us year after year. We continued the tradition with our own children, and I’ll admit my heart melted a bit when our youngest asked if we could start Advent early this year—just so she could be part of the candle-lighting before heading back to college on Sunday morning.

That, I think, is the gift of Advent. It gently invites us to step out of the hectic holiday rush and into rhythms of presence. Whether here at church or around your own table at home, Advent gives us space to slow down, to breathe deeply, to sing, to listen again to the ancient stories, and to pray as we await the coming of Christ into the world.

My hope for each of you is that this season brings moments of wonder and intention—traditions old and new that help you pay attention, be present, and live in creative anticipation of Emmanuel, God-with-us.

See you in church.

With hope and gratitude,
Pastor Kevin

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Gratitude Across Generations

Beloved Grace Family,

This past week we celebrated Thanksgiving—a holiday that has always marked the beginning of the season of light, hope, and gathering for me. When I was a child, Thanksgiving meant piling into the car and heading out to my Great Aunt Lelah’s farm. That old homestead, rooted in our family since the 1870s, seemed to hold the memories of generations in its fields and fence lines.

Every year the family crowded in for a traditional meal—turkey fresh from the farm, stuffing, scalloped potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberry relish, and a choice of pumpkin or apple pie. (I always chose both.) I began at the kids’ table, but as the years passed and the older generations slipped into memory, I found my place among the grown-ups—listening as they shared stories of both joy and worry, humor and hard-earned wisdom.

After the dishes were washed and put away, we bundled up and went out to “walk the land,” visiting the old cabin where Aunt Lelah’s parents first lived, checking on the cattle in the barn, and admiring the stark beauty of a Kansas November. Those memories feel fond and distant now. Aunt Lelah has been gone more than thirty years, as have so many of that generation. The farm belongs to another family. I miss the connection to that place, and to those people who shaped my early understanding of what it means to gather, remember, and give thanks.

This year, Rachel and I are celebrating Thanksgiving in our new home in Wichita—with kids home from school, friends around the table, and my mother here with us. The turkey and stuffing have been replaced with vegetarian alternatives, but the green bean casserole endures. And while we won’t be “walking the land” on the farm, we look forward to strolling through College Hill to take in the Christmas lights against the crisp evening air.

This year, I am filled with gratitude—gratitude for being called to Grace Presbyterian, gratitude for the privilege of opening our home, gratitude for abundance that I too often take for granted, and gratitude for the chance to create new memories and traditions with my children.

I hope that however you celebrated Thanksgiving, you found yourself blessed with fellowship, food, and a heart stirred by gratitude for the gifts God has placed in your life. And as we turn toward Advent, I look forward to “walking together” into this season—living with creative anticipation for the gift of God who meets us right here, in our stories old and new, with hope that breaks in.

See you in Church.

With gratitude,
Pastor Kevin

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