Sashabaw Presbyterian Church - USA

04/04/2026

Holy Saturday. This is the day that calls us to breathe. This is the day that invites us to make a space within the weariness, the fear, the ache. This is the day that calls us to hold our anguish and our hope in the same hand. This is the day that beckons us to turn toward one another and to remember we do not breathe alone.

IN THE BREATH, ANOTHER BREATHING
A Blessing for Holy Saturday

Let it be
that on this day
we will expect
no more of ourselves
than to keep
breathing
with the bewildered
cadence
of lungs that will not
give up the ghost.

Let it be
we will expect
little but
the beating of
our heart,
stubborn in
its repeating rhythm
that will not
cease to sound.

Let it be
we will
still ourselves
enough to hear
what may yet
come to echo:
as if in the breath,
another breathing;
as if in the heartbeat,
another heart.

Let it be
we will not
try to fathom
what comes
to meet us
in the stillness
but simply open
to the approach
of a mystery
we hardly dared
to dream.

—Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons
janrichardson.com/books

Image: “The Sixth & Seventh Words: Into Your Hands/It Is Finished”
© Jan Richardson
janrichardsonimages.com

03/29/2026

03/13/2026

A letter from the Stated Clerk

March 13, 2026

Dear Presbytery of Detroit,

Thursday afternoon, we learned about the act of violence at Temple Israel in West Bloomfield Township. It is a painful reminder of the rise in violence happening in our nation against religious communities. The Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) has a long history of supporting interfaith relationships and denouncing hateful rhetoric and actions directed against Jewish people and synagogues.

As Christians, we often take for granted our safety when we enter a place of worship. Our neighbors and friends in the interfaith community do not have that same luxury. A few months ago, when I met with interfaith leaders at a local mosque, Jewish and Muslim leaders talked about the burden of cost they undertake to increase safety measures and hire security staff. They shared what it is like for their office staff and volunteers to listen to voice mails and sort through mail that is full of hate messages.

Hate sanctioned by policies and political and religious rhetoric, spread across social media.

Hate treated casually and joked about by friends and family.

Hate carried out by people with words and weapons.

As the Presbytery of Detroit, we stand with our Jewish neighbors in this time of grief and fear. We stand in unity with the community at Temple Israel as they care for one another and their children during this time. We are praying with and for them. We condemn the violence and contempt that hate generates and commit ourselves to the work of living our faith commitment to love our neighbors. We love because God first loved us. Scripture shares that the greatest gift is the gift of love, and they will know we are Christians by our love. Thus, by design, our work is guided by an ethic of love, a love understood not as mere sentimentalism but as a decision to pursue and promote God's justice. We remain steadfast in prayer for the community at Temple Israel and the Jewish community of metro Detroit.

The Rev. Dr. Melissa Lynn Allison

Co-Presbytery Leader/ Stated Clerk

Presbytery of Detroit

02/22/2026

Sunday, February 22 at 11:00 am
In person and on zoom
For the zoom link text 248-310-1059 before 10:00 am Sunday

02/18/2026

✝️Lent at Sashabaw: What Is My Only Comfort?” ✝️

This Lent, we’re grounding our sermon and devotional journey in one of the great treasures of the Presbyterian tradition: the Heidelberg Catechism — a historic confession that centers the Christian life around three simple, honest words:

Misery. Deliverance. Gratitude.

These aren’t abstract ideas. They tell the truth about our lives:
We face our brokenness.
We look to Christ’s saving work.
We learn to live in grateful response.

Lent follows this same ancient rhythm — moving us toward Easter so that when we proclaim Christ is risen, we know why it matters and who we are because of it.

⸻

✝️WEEK 1 — WHAT IS MY ONLY COMFORT?

Belonging to Christ (Heidelberg Catechism Q&A 1)

Weekly Practice:
Each day slowly pray:

“I am not my own, but belong—body and soul, in life and in death—to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ.”
Write this sentence somewhere visible this week.

🕯 Wednesday, February 18 — Ash Wednesday

✝️Scripture: Psalm 103:13–18
“For he knows how we were made; he remembers that we are dust… but the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting.”

Ash Wednesday begins with dust — with honesty about our fragility and limits. But the Catechism begins with comfort.
Before confession. Before repentance. Before striving.
We belong.

You are dust.
And you are held.
Both are true.

🙏Prayer:
Merciful God, I remember today that I am dust.
Help me also remember that I belong to you.
Amen.

✝️

There is no Ash Wednesday service this year.
Imposition of ashes and celebration of communion will take place on Sunday, February 22 at 11:00 am.

We would love to walk this Lenten journey with you. 💜

12/24/2025

✨ 🕯️ Christmas Eve at Sashabaw 🕯️✨

Join us for a candle-lit service of Lessons and Carols—beloved carols, familiar readings, and the glow of candlelight shared together. It feels like coming home.

A warm, intimate gathering for all ages, offering a peaceful pause to celebrate the birth of Christ.

All are welcome. Come as you are.

5300 Maybee Rd., Clarkston, Mi

12/21/2025

Here on the eve of the Winter Solstice, a blessing. If you are traveling through a season of shadows, or know someone who is, this is for you.

BLESSING FOR THE LONGEST NIGHT

All throughout these months,
as the shadows
have lengthened,
this blessing has been
gathering itself,
making ready,
preparing for
this night.

It has practiced
walking in the dark,
traveling with
its eyes closed,
feeling its way
by memory,
by touch,
by the pull of the moon
even as it wanes.

So believe me
when I tell you
this blessing will
reach you,
even if you
have not light enough
to read it;
it will find you,
even though you cannot
see it coming.

You will know
the moment of its
arriving
by your release
of the breath
you have held
so long;
a loosening
of the clenching
in your hands,
of the clutch
around your heart;
a thinning
of the darkness
that had drawn itself
around you.

This blessing
does not mean
to take the night away,
but it knows
its hidden roads,
knows the resting spots
along the path,
knows what it means
to travel
in the company
of a friend.

So when
this blessing comes,
take its hand.
Get up.
Set out on the road
you cannot see.

This is the night
when you can trust
that any direction
you go,
you will be walking
toward the dawn.

—Jan Richardson
from The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief

Image: "Longest Night" © janrichardsonimages.com