Cobleskill United Methodist Church

03/19/2026

“I still believe in humanity. When I watched people in Gaza prepare basic meals to break their fast during Ramadan during a genocide, I saw something good. When local neighbors saw our public vigil for disappeared people and chose to join us for a time of lament, I saw something good. When Colin Kaepernick paid for the independent autopsy of one of the Black men recently lynched, I saw something good. The good is people still choosing to be empathetic and compassionate in times of crisis. That is what Christ calls us to be.”

—from the artist’s statement for “Fuera ICE” by Rev. Nicolette Faison (.faison) |

03/18/2026

We have this unwritten agreement,
us members of humanity.
When the toddler at the coffee shop runs round the
corner,
when her mom, at the register, looks up in panic,
we, the adults in the room, will pledge,
with quick smiles and silent head nods, to keep watch.
…
We will do this,
because we cannot ignore the child right in front of us.
We will do this,
because love always includes the least of these.

—excerpt from the poem “Unwritten Agreement” by Rev. Sarah A. Speed |

03/17/2026

“The reign of God belongs to children and everyone who, like children, is not granted polite society’s respect and acceptance.

The children, then, are a metaphor for all who lack societal status, who so-called decent folk find distasteful and undesirable. The migrant worker. The immigrant. The alien. The homeless. The powerless. The undocumented. Harking back to Deuteronomy 24:17-22, where God commands the people to care for the socially downtrodden because they themselves had been beaten down in Egypt, Jesus issues a clear, if not controversial, command for his followers. They are to live as an ekklesia, a “church.” And this church is to exist in this world as a refuge of radical welcome.”

—Rev. Dr. Brian Blount, from his commentary on Matthew 19:13-15 and Deuteronomy 24:17-22 |

03/16/2026

Protecting God, there are so many in my community that need protection and care. I worry for children that are hungry, for the elderly that need assistance, for those whose native tongue is not the primary language. I worry for those living paycheck to paycheck, and for those who just moved to town. Give me the eyes to see the need in my own community, and the energy to join the response. Amen.

—prayer by Rev. Sarah A. Speed |

03/15/2026

This week we continue to explore what is at the root of Jesus’ Good News. In scripture, we learn that Jesus consistently and frequently emphasized a preferential care for the vulnerable. This week we’ll hear classic scriptures, one of which finds Jesus welcoming the little children. In many modern contexts, this just seems sweet; however, in Jesus’ setting, spending time with children would have seemed wasteful or useless. When Jesus blesses a crowd of children (after the disciples rebuke them and try to send them away), he once again reorients socially-constructed hierarchies to center the vulnerable. Throughout his ministry, Jesus emphasized the last, the least, and the lost, building upon the mandates of the Hebrew scriptures to care for the immigrant, widow, and orphan among you. Deuteronomy repeatedly reminds the Israelites, “you were once slaves in Egypt.” Their memory of oppression should impel them to provide for anyone under-resourced or cut off from the protection of a household. Similarly, Jesus uplifting children is a reminder that we were all once children and we have all been vulnerable at some point in our lives, relying on the protection and care of others. If we’re truly living out the good news, then anyone vulnerable will not only be protected from harm, but cared for so they have the chance to thrive. Look ahead at our two scripture readings: Matthew 19:13-15 and Deuteronomy 24:17-22.

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03/15/2026

“The disciples, feeling the weight of being seen as serious leaders alongside their rabbi, Jesus, may have tried to preserve a sense of reverence by shooing away the parents bringing their children to him. Yet here, Jesus reorients his disciples (and us) away from the illusion of control and reminds us that it is the joyful, unruly, sincere presence of a child to whom the kingdom truly belongs.”

—from the artist’s statement for “Let the Little Children Come” by Carmelle Beaugelin Caldwell () |

03/14/2026

We pass the bread basket, leaving crumbs all over the table. They are tiny reminders of communion in our midst. And at the end of the night, when we walk our guests to the car and carry sleeping children to their car seats, our neighbors say, What a holy moment it all was. Surely this must be what heaven feels like. Surely we can create it together.

—excerpt from the poem “Surely, This Must Be It” by Rev. Sarah A. Speed |

03/13/2026

Human minds just can’t imagine
all that God can bring to bear
Through our small and separate beings,
even when we join to share
Still we follow where Christ leads us,
many pieces of one whole
That we might allow our dreaming
to transform our broken world

—from the hymn “Human Minds Just Can’t Imagine” by Rev. Anna Strickland |

03/12/2026

God, we long to see ourselves as you do because we know that like that day in the Galilee, there is still work to do.
Like that day on the hillside, this world is full of people who are hungry. We are hungry for justice, hungry for companionship, hungry for reasons to hope.
Like that day on the hillside, this world is full of people who need healing. We need healing for our bodies, healing for our minds, healing for broken relationships.
And like that day on the hillside, there is surely enough to go around, but we doubt and deny that truth.

So call us again, loving God.
Say our names.
Hand us the baskets of bread and fish.
Tell us it’s our turn.
Help us see ourselves the way you see us, for we know that together the impossible is possible.

—prayer by Rev. Sarah A. Speed |

03/11/2026

“The same power that turned five loaves and two fish into a feast for thousands—with leftovers—empowers us ‘to accomplish far more abundantly than all we can ask or imagine.’ Do we allow this truth to settle into our bones and animate our actions?

I’ll admit, I tried to avoid this passage because it felt overly optimistic in light of today’s world. People still go hungry. Wars rage. The earth groans under our misuse. Yet if we reimagine the systems we created, studies show it is possible for every human being to have what they need. That would require massive restructuring, international cooperation, and the reallocation of resources—but not more than we already possess. We don’t need a miracle of multiplication. We simply need to use what we’ve been given.”

—from the artist’s statement for “Far More Abundantly” by Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman |

03/10/2026

03/10/2026

Out-of-the-box God, I dream of a vibrant church full of intergenerational joy. I dream of a country without hunger and a world without war. I dream of a neighborhood where we know each other’s names, and a city where we eradicate poverty. I have dreams stacked upon dreams and can’t help but wonder—what if they aren’t impossible? Show me the work that is mine to do. Amen.

—prayer by Rev. Sarah A. Speed |