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Saturday, December 26

Author: Brittany Fiscus-van Rossum

John 1:1-18

Reflection: v. 5, ‘a light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it’

Though liturgically Christmas has its twelve-day season, for many of us, today just feels like ‘the day after Christmas.’ For some of us the holiday season has always been difficult—it can remind us of strained family relationships, missing loved ones, or better years long past. For others of us this year in particular probably hasn’t lived up to our expectations and the holidays have likely felt the same. What small glimmer of nostalgia or tradition we were able to capture from a family Zoom dinner or the promise of ‘next year will be better’ quickly fades today as we sit with the obvious pangs of disappointment. Maybe your existential dread, like mine, strikes deeper to the core this year. My own small sadnesses seem trivial when I think of the thousands of people who have lost someone beloved to Covid-19 this year, when I think of the loved ones of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd and so many others, mourning their unjust and unnecessary deaths, or when I think of the families torn apart at our borders without power or promise of reuniting. Without the numbing distractions of holiday social events and ready excuses to make Target trips for unnecessary last-minute gifts, I am left only with the stark reality that the warm-fuzzies of Christmas mornings past did not save us from ourselves. I am left with the dread of the world I help to create and yet feel powerless to change—what chance does my small and flickering Christian hope have of combating the deep gloomy night of this season? My flame remains small, but I will not relinquish it just yet, even now as the dawn stretches far away. For what hope was a small baby boy born to a poor and homeless refugee family all those many years ago? I have to keep hoping that as this Scripture promises us, in all eternity, God chooses to be with us and cares about our well-being. And whatever evil looms—love and mercy and justice and hope will not be overcome.

Prayer Strengthen our flickering hope, O Lord, that we may see your love and justice in the world.

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Christmas Day – December 25

Author: Brittany Fiscus-van Rossum

Isaiah 52: 7-10

Reflection: v. 7, ‘How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation’

When my daughter Emi was born, a flurry of texts went out to family and friends—the fast-footed digital messengers announcing the joyous good news of her anticipated arrival. The after-experience of birth was quite different for poor displaced Mary and Joseph, but I can still imagine the delight they must have felt to cradle their new baby as angelic messengers announced the coming of our salvation to shepherds. Today we celebrate that Christ has come, and we are invited to embrace that good news and share in the joy of it. And no, Christmas tidings do not mean that everything will suddenly be easy or okay now. Even as God’s own messengers proclaimed peace and salvation on the day of Christ’s birth, the powers that be were already plotting our sweet Savior’s demise. For love incarnate will always challenge the ways of the powerful and privileged and the work of bringing peace never ends. As we near the close of this uniquely challenging year, we too are faced with the task of holding in tandem our Christian hopefulness and the unavoidable reality of the difficulties and work still yet to come. Yet the truth of God’s good news is no less actual for we who have waited for it. Though it is not always as we expect it, God still comes and love still prevails. The messenger has arrived, proclaiming peace and good news! It may not always feel like it, but our salvation has indeed come, so let us celebrate—and then get to work.

Prayer Today, O Lord, help us to find joy in your anticipated arrival. Tomorrow, help us to get to your work!

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Christmas Eve – December 24

Author: Chad Hyatt

Luke 2:1-20

Reflection: v. 19, ‘Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart’

John Lennon famously said, ‘Whatever gets you through the night is alright.’ While I might put some limits on precisely ‘whatever’ might be, I can say this without hesitation: praying the rosary gets me through the night—and pretty much every time in between. It’s simple, really. Just the act of holding a rosary—fingering its worn beads, tracing its looping pattern as I pray—connects me to that deeper place in my heart where I know God makes a home with me. Rosary in hand, Hail Mary upon my lips, my distracted and worried mind slows down its harried gait just a little. It’s like the knotted cords of my rosary bind my heart to a deeper truth, the most profound truth of all—the grace of God’s love for me and for all the world.

The rosary is a truly contemplative prayer. Sure, it’s repetitious. But its repetitions aren’t vain. The words themselves are a beautiful gift of our Christian tradition. These well-worn prayers have been offered by the faithful across countless centuries and cultures. But the words become a mere after-thought as the prayerful heart moves closer to God’s heart. Praying the rosary stills my fears. It illumines my hope. It leads me to sit quietly in the presence of the living God.

Throughout the disruption of this pandemic, I’ve spent a lot of time with Our Lady of My Backyard. Sitting in a rocking chair I once recovered from the dumpster at our church, I situate myself near a little image of the Virgin Mary I purchased at the monastery. Praying the rosary is praying in the company of Mary. We contemplate her Son together. I let the long day start to roll off my shoulders, as gently I rock back and forth. I gaze up at the starry sky and sense the gentle rustle of the trees. I hear the cicada song, like a symphonic hymn of praise. Prayer should be as incarnational as the faith we confess. We are embodied, after all. We can only love God embodied. And that’s the way we love our neighbors, too. Let us rejoice this Christmas that God comes to us in Jesus, the Son of Mary—embodied, just like you and me.

Prayer Jesus, thank you for traditions of prayer that draw us closer to you.

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January 6th–Epiphany

By: Chad Hyatt
Ephesians 3:1-12
Reflection—v. 10 ‘made known to the rulers and authorities’

As I write, I call to mind my community. I can see it, loud and brash and rowdy. I marvel at it, so compassionate and generous and forgiving. Truth be told, I am overwhelmed by my community, for we are painfully honest and undaunted by struggle and so very wonderfully human. There is no place I would rather be than with this people, just one among the many that make up this little flock of the followers of Jesus. Perhaps you have seen it, too, as you have prayed and reflected on Scripture with us through Advent and Christmas. And now it is Epiphany, a time for seeing, for the light has come to us. We are called to carry that light—the light of God that shines so deeply in our humanity because God has become one with us. Christ has bestowed upon all of us the gift of life in its marvelous fullness. Our vocation is to make this truth known to the powers that be—the ‘rulers and authorities,’ indeed every system and institution and ideology that seeks to hold sway over the hearts and minds of human beings. Here in a little basement off a back alley, huddled with those who are hungry for bread and hungry for justice, I can see and feel it, be encouraged by it and be overwhelmed by it. Because it is here that I see the church living the truth and truly making it known. My prayer is for every one of us, in every church and community, to shine so radiantly that our world may be awash in the glow of such ardent life.

Prayer: God of variegated wisdom, make known the joy of life and redeem us all.

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Sunday, January 5th

By: Sid Imes-Burkett
Jeremiah 31:7-14

I invite you to read the Jeremiah passage again (starting at verse one for bonus points).

Take it in slowly, savor it, and walk in to the text.
What do you see?
Hear?
Feel?
Where are you in this gathering?
With whom do you walk?
In what ways do you feel God’s arms around you?
Where in your communities do you see places of healing? Abundance? Salvation?

Prayer: God who gathers us in your arms, we give you thanks for your gentleness. Wipe away our tears, shower us in your mercy, and bless us with eyes to see the ways you are bringing life into our midst. In your good and joyous name we pray, amen.

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Saturday, January 4th

By: Bethany Apelquist
Psalm 148
Reflection—v.5b ‘God commanded and they were created’

God Commanded and they were created, I love that, I love that we serve a God who can create beauty out of nothing with a single command. In a world that is so often filled with war, and violence, and heartbreak I think that there is something that is deep within us that longs for God the creator to be close to us, we long for God to create something new. We long for God to show up and take most broken parts of our hearts, and our world and say the word to create something new, something better, something more holy. And while we celebrate that big awesome power of a God who created the mountains with a single word, I think where the real hope lies is that believe in a Creator who emerges in the bleakest hour to create something new, is that not what the incarnation of Christ is all about? That Christ showed up when the world needed him to the most to offer us something new- offer us a new creation, a new way of life. A way of life that resists the temptation of violence and says yes to peace, a way of life that hold heartbreak with tenderness, a way of life that is marked by more love, more justice, more mercy? This Christmas season may we celebrate the presence of the Creator among us, and work hard every day to co-create that new way of being.

Prayer: Creator God, inspire us to be co-creators with you.

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Friday, January 3rd

By: Kevin Whitside
Hebrews 2:10-13
Reflection—v.11 ‘not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters’

It’s clear that it’s not angels that Jesus helps, but people. Jesus was made like his brothers and sisters in every way and is merciful and faithful. In a practical realm, since he was human, it is kind of like he’s ‘been there, done that.’ He knows exactly what we’re going through, because he’s been through it! Particularly, I think of the humility Jesus went through. Jesus hung out with people like us, people like myself—those who didn’t have much, those who had issues, those who had vices—the people under the radar. Jesus decided to walk with people who didn’t have much. People who were talked about and even criminals. I think he put himself with people who needed him. But these were also the people he found value in. That’s what it means when it says, ‘brothers and sisters.’ I’m not perfect, but Jesus still values me as his own brother. ‘Why me, Jesus? Why stick around with me when I do so much that’s not God-like, that’s not Jesus-like?’ But he’s still with me. He still never takes his hands off me. He’s allowing me to turn my life around and that’s why I’m still breathing. I’m not perfect, my past isn’t perfect. But I try to live the best I can, and I’m truly grateful, because he hasn’t taken his hands off of me. He gives me another chance to live God-like, and I have to acknowledge that and live it.

Prayer: Christ, my brother, thank you for loving me. Help me to love myself and others.

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Thursday, January 2nd

By: Kevin Harris
Isaiah 63:7-9
Reflection—v.9 ‘he lifted them up and carried them…’

When I read this passage, I felt as though God had increased me completely. I was able to ponder and be grateful for the many gifts the Lord has allowed me to experience. This year it feels as though I have been tried like Job. But even in the midst of my hardships, God constantly tells me ‘you may bend, but I won’t allow you to break.’ God says ‘I love you’ to life and I trust that God wants my life to be full and abundant. My Lord has shown me the love of a community that carries the Lord’s shield when I’m faced with trouble. Through my community I’m reminded of God’s promise to lift me up–God’s promise to carry us all to health and well-being. Sometimes, I feel overwhelmed by the tasks of mercy and grace, yet it warms my heart to serve. So when God calls, I try to just listen. I hear birds, trees, and family. In conclusion, what the prophet Isaiah is describing in this passage is life. I love love and I love God’s people. Amen.

Prayer: God of abundant life, in our times of trouble and strife bring us health and wholeness through your beloved community.

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Wednesday, January 1st

By: Bethany Apelquist
Isaiah 63:7-9
Reflection—v. 7 ‘I will recount the gracious deeds of the Lord’

In a world that is often complicated and filled with violence and hardship, I love that we see Isaiah doing the brave work of recounting the gracious deeds of God. In November, I was ordained as a minister in the Christian Church by Mercy Community Church and First Christian Church of Decatur. That celebration reminded me so deeply of the gracious deeds of God. I was reminded of those moments, places, and people through which I have seen glimpses of God that are a little closer, a little more tangible, a little more of the God incarnate that we celebrate in this season of Christmas. So many of those moments have often taken place in this small basement church on the crowded street of Ponce. As I reflect during this Christmas season on God’s goodness, I can’t help but think of the faces of Mercy Community Church. Faces of those who have spoken prophetically, sung joyfully, and shared vulnerably. Every meal shared, every sound of laughter, every prayer lifted up in our community is a gracious deed of God. I have had the honor and privilege of worshiping with the Mercy Community for over five years now, and when I think about the gracious deeds of God, I count the Mercy Community on the top of my list. My prayer for you this Christmas season is that when you recount the gracious needs of God in your own life, your list includes all the love and warmth that Mercy Church represents for me.

Prayer: Gracious God, thank you for all the good things you are working in our lives.

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Tuesday, December 31st

By: Jill Oglesby-Evans
Isaiah 63:7-9
Reflection—v. 9 ‘It was no messenger or angel but God’s presence that saved them’

In The Infinite Game, Simon Sinek explores the concept of finite and infinite games. In a finite game there is a clear beginning, middle and end, the players are known, and all the rules agreed upon ahead of time. An infinite game has no clear beginning or end, engages both known and unknown players, and proceeds with ever-changing rules! At Mercy, worship is a joyfully played infinite game with few time constraints, unexpected players, and rules with which the Holy Spirit plays any way She pleases! Preaching at Mercy, for example, is a community event, ala lectio divina. After Scripture is read everyone is invited to call out a word or phrase that grabs us. When a word or phrase someone else brings up jumps out at us, too, we call out, ‘check!’ At Mercy you can trust that the presence of God will be made known not just through the voices of a few enlightened messengers, or simon-pure angels, or over-educated preachers, but through the voices and insights and struggles of the whole community. At Mercy, worship is a decidedly infinite game during which, through ALL our questions, doubts, fears, and wonderment, the lively love of God saves us, redeems us, lifts us up, and carries us through the coming week.

Prayer: Loving God, keep us ever humble, open and ready to play with the infinite ways you come to us through your creation and one another. Amen.