Center Moriches Presbyterian Church

09/02/2026

Save the Date: November 28, 2026. Lumos is returning for a special Christmas Candlelight Concert that you won't want to miss!

08/29/2026

Rescue teams are searching for hundreds of missing people along the Nepal-China border after a deadly torrent of water and mud swept through communities following a glacier collapse.

07/22/2026

Exciting News: Another time slot has been added to this concert - 5 PM. Get your tickets soon because they are selling fast!

07/22/2026

https://dialhope.org/
Today's Message: "I Believe in the Sun"
During World War II, some of those hiding from the N***s scratched words into the cellar walls where they took shelter. Someone — we don't know who — wrote this:

I believe in the sun, even when it is not shining. I believe in the power of love, even when I don't feel it. I believe in God, even when he is silent.

I have read those words many times. And every time, I am stopped by them. Because whoever wrote them was not writing from a place of comfort or certainty. They were writing from a cellar. In hiding. From a world that had gone terrifyingly dark.

And still — I believe.

That is not naive faith. That is faith that has been tested to its absolute limit and has chosen, against all evidence, to hold on.

Psalm 80 knows this territory. It is a prayer written in the aftermath of catastrophe — a community defeated, humiliated, struggling to understand where God has gone. And yet they pray. They cry out. They refuse to let go of the God who seems, in this moment, to have let go of them.

The Psalm begins by calling God Shepherd — the one who leads, protects, provides. And even in their darkest hour, they cannot stop addressing him that way. That is faith. Not the absence of doubt, but the refusal to stop speaking to the One you are not sure is listening.

If you are in a season where God feels silent — you are in good company. The Psalmist was there. The people in that cellar were there. Keep speaking anyway. Keep reaching. The sun is still there, even when you cannot see it.

Prayer: O God, there are seasons when you feel very far away. When the silence is long and the darkness deep. We choose, like those who have gone before us, to believe anyway — in the sun, in love, in you. Hold us fast, even when we cannot feel your grip. Amen.

‍Message by Rev. JOE ALBRIGHT

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05/20/2026

Save the Date: https://www.facebook.com/share/18NAq261Lt/

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05/08/2026

Anticipation…
Please join us tomorrow at noon for a fabulous Afternoon Tea! Tickets may be purchased at the door for $25.

04/22/2026

We're getting closer to the big day! We hope to see you there and encourage you to spread the word!

04/06/2026

From Dial Hope Foundation: Easter Dreams
Leonard Sweet writes that Easter gives us the ability to see the world differently. Not to deny its brokenness — but to refuse to let the brokenness have the last word.

He puts it this way. Because of the resurrection, Christians can expectantly dream:

- of abundance, even in the midst of poverty.

- of compassion, even in the midst of divisiveness.

- of justice, even in the midst of inequity.

- of love, even in the midst of hate.

I keep coming back to that word — dream. Because our dreams shape us. They tell us where we're headed, what we're living for, what we believe is actually possible. If we have no dreams, life goes flat. If our dreams are only about ourselves, life goes small. But if our dreams are rooted in the promise of Easter — that God can and does turn despair to hope, hatred to love, death to life — then everything opens up.

A few years ago I asked my congregation to share their Easter dreams. Here is what some of them said:

That my family would continue their journey of faith even after I am gone.

That we would find a way to address systemic poverty and racism.

That God would heal my children from the pain they carry.

That our nation would be healed from hatred. That we would experience revival.

That I would practice humility in all things — and that God would remove whatever pride gets in the way.

Peace. Inner peace. Peace among all people.

Those are bold dreams. But then again, Easter is a bold claim.

It is the claim that the same Power that raised Jesus from the dead is still at work. In you. In the church. In the world. Right now.

That's not wishful thinking. That's the ground we stand on.

So — what is your Easter dream?

Prayer: God of new and abundant life, may the power of the Risen Christ work in us and through us — to bring about what we cannot bring about on our own. To make real what we can only, for now, dream. In his name we pray. Amen.

04/04/2026

From Dial Hope Foundation:
“Between”
Holy Saturday is a strange and often overlooked day.

Not the devastation of Good Friday. Not the joy of Easter. Just… the day in between. The waiting. The silence. The not yet.

I think it may be the most honest day in the Christian calendar. Because most of us know what it feels like to live in between. Between the diagnosis and the outcome. Between the loss and the healing. Between the way things were and whatever comes next. Between the darkness and the dawn we are not yet sure is coming.

The disciples didn't know what we know. They had no idea what Sunday morning would bring. They were simply in the grief. In the silence. In the wreckage of everything they had believed and hoped for.

And yet.

Even on that day — in the stillness, in the darkness, in the sealed tomb — something was already at work that no one could see. The story was not over. The last word had not yet been spoken.

It never is.

That is the quiet, stubborn promise of Holy Saturday. Not yet joy — but not without hope. The darkness is real. And so is the dawn that is coming.

Prayer: God of Hope, meet us in the in-between places today. Where we are waiting, give us patience. Where we are grieving, give us comfort. Where we have lost our way, remind us that the story is not over. May we trust, even in the deepest part of the night, that the morning is coming. In Jesus' name. Amen.