Saturday, December 19

Author: Chad Hyatt

Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11

Reflection: v. 1, ‘The Lord God’s Spirit is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me… to bring good news to the poor.’

Given the choice to write just one reflection for this week of Advent, it would be impossible for me to let Isaiah pass by—not with these liberating words ringing out, like the joyful breaking of chains, across the centuries: ‘The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me for the Lord has anointed me… to bring good news to the poor.’ We know, of course, that Jesus couldn’t let these words pass him by either. When he took the pulpit in his own hometown, he told all who would listen that this prophecy was being fulfilled in him.

From the Hebrew prophets to Jesus, from John Lewis to the millions who have marched this summer, these words take on flesh and blood, body and soul. And wherever they resound, from an exiled prophet to a tiny synagogue in Nazareth, from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial to the street corner where George Floyd was murdered, truth is being boldly told and good news is powerfully proclaimed.

Maybe I run the risk of being a little too Pentecostal, but make no mistake, it’s an anointing. It’s oil running down our heads, poured out by the Lord alone, coming like the rushing of God’s mighty Spirit upon us. It’s a messianic commission—for Jesus, of course—but also for all of God’s people. It is our vocation together. It was for exiled Israel, and it is for us in our own homelessness, existential and literal. It’s the power of God that confronts every other power there is, every system that exploits and destroys God’s good creation, every idol that crushes human beings and robs us of our inherent dignity.

It’s not even remotely apolitical. It is the authentic, revolutionary politics of the kingdom of God that demands power, resources, and relationships be reorganized according to our love for our neighbors, especially the poorest among us. The good news we celebrate this Advent—and indeed all year long—is that the God who loves us all boldly takes the side of the poor—so that every one of us can be set free. And that’s the gospel truth.

Prayer Spirit of the Lord, anoint us to proclaim the good news of your liberation to the poor—and to live like we believe it.

Friday, December 18

Author: Brittany Fiscus-van Rossum

Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11

Reflection: v. 2, ‘good news to the oppressed’

I love the brash and revolutionary tone of the prophet Isaiah’s words. As I imagine the prophet making his bold declaration to a people in need of justice, I cannot help but to think of my fellow pastor and friend, Rev. Maurice Lattimore, and the many faithful others who have been marching for racial justice in the wake of George Floyd’s murder. I think of how Rev. Lattimore has patiently and compassionately instructed and pastored people to see the hurtful truths of systemic racism. I think of his many colorful shirts and masks hand-crafted by his daughter, proclaiming words of justice and honoring the names of those killed at the hands of the police. I think of how Rev. Lattimore would not only march the streets but also show up to Mercy the next day to foster relationships and care for our community members living on the streets—prioritizing both works of justice as essential and never ever forgetting to care for the living, breathing humans standing before him. I think of Rev. Lattimore and some of the push-back and roadblocks he has faced in his steady, faithful advocacy for God’s people, and I cannot help but to think of the prophet Isaiah’s words. Good news for the oppressed will always be hard to accept for those in positions of power and privilege. Prophets proclaiming freedom will always be rejected by oppressors. But this is God’s word. God proclaims good news to the oppressed. When I read these ancient words, I want to hear the potent challenge within them and know that they must matter to me, too. I want to hear the prophet’s urgent cry in the voices of those crying out for justice today. I want to desire the justice that God longs for. As I read this passage today, I am thankful for the faithful and embodied witness and ministry of my colleague, Rev. Lattimore, who proclaims the words of God’s prophets anew.

Prayer Liberating God, help us to listen to the voices of your prophets speaking anew!

Thursday, December 17

Author: Holly Reimer

John 1:6-8, 19-28

Reflection: v. 26, ‘Someone greater stands among you, whom you don’t recognize’

Greatness often gets mistaken for power and privilege. This has not changed. The Pharisees and Sadducees are particularly thrown by John’s words because they are concerned with their own power and privilege, and concerned for what Jesus might do to upset one or both. We are living in a world and a culture that tells us we are great when we reach that promotion, buy that new house, have a certain amount in our bank accounts, and can name a litany of things we possess. Those who would later have Jesus killed, missed the true greatness that was among them. They were blind from a fear of what-ifs, insecurities, and egoism. As a community, we believe that God is present among us. Christ was present with the poor and the marginalized. This is not simply why we believe God is present among us, but rather it reflects the faithfulness by which we engage one another as beloved children, as reflections of the one who created us. And yet, there are those who cannot see the beauty in our gathering, in the beauty of my brothers and sisters. Even now we are currently experiencing resistance to our gathering as a community. God is present, and yet there are those who can’t see it and who refuse to see God present with us. The concern and what-ifs can rob us of the chance to see something rich and beautiful. We can become afraid that a small, faithful, ecumenical community will rise up against us and rob us, both literally and figuratively, of all the power and privilege we believe makes us great. Greatness is not present in power that oppresses but in a power that liberates the oppressed. This is the greatness John spoke of as he witnessed to Jesus. Beloved brothers and sisters, we can find ourselves on a dangerous precipice that will cause us to miss the greatness of God. May we humble ourselves, allowing ourselves to be vulnerable and present to something we could never fathom.

Prayer Humble us, Lord, to see you in the most unexpected places and spaces. Amen.

Wednesday, December 16

Author: Holly Reimer

John 1:6-8, 19-28

Reflection: v. 7, ‘He came as a witness to testify concerning the light’

A love that truly comes from God is one that sees the value, goodness, and beauty in each individual, for no other reason than they are the image of God. Loving in this way means we want others to be included in the goodness of God. I think about the zeal and enthusiasm of children and the ways they are eager to share good and exciting news with those around them. In their youthful joy and childlike fervor, they are not exclusive or selective with who receives this information—it is shared with EVERYONE. John has some really good news about God’s presence among the people. There are those who don’t believe, can’t fathom, and are resistant to such news. John shares it anyway, because good news is meant to be shared. The light and love of God is meant to be shared with EVERYONE. In this particular season, and with this particular text, I am reminded of the Christmas song lyrics, ‘Do you know what I know?’ It is about knowing something really wonderful and the desire to share it—not because it makes the knower more important or powerful, but because we couldn’t think of keeping it to ourselves. It’s saying, ‘I want you to feel and experience the same joy that I do, because I trust and believe that you are just as important as I am.’ Brothers and sisters in Christ, I know something, and I want you to know it too. In a world of great darkness, there is an even greater light. This Light shows us who is beloved, and it isn’t just the rich and the powerful, but it is especially the poor and meek. It isn’t those who ‘claim’ to have it all together, but those who have messed up and made some not-so-great choices. This Light offers grace. Be a humble witness. Be an inclusive witness. The Light is too important for those of us who bear its witness to be anything other than humble and inclusive. What if we shared good news, not because it affects us alone, but because it affects someone else?

Prayer Lord, thank you for the light you have given to us in Christ Jesus. May we not do anything to attempt to diminish such a great light. Amen.

Monday, December 14

Author: Holly Reimer

Psalm 126

Reflection: v. 5, ‘Let those who plant with tears reap the harvest with joyful shouts’

This is a beautiful psalm that offers expressions of trust in who God is and expressions of praise from the people. This has been a tough year for all of us. There have been a lot of changes and grief. We might even find ourselves wondering if we are experiencing God’s wrath. Our world has been turned upside-down with the pandemic, which has also highlighted many of our biases and injustices. We look back on these last eleven months with sadness and uncertainty, remembering what (and who) we’ve lost. In much the same way, the psalmist is looking back on the divine wrath that has ended for Zion—and is looking towards divine restoration. Even for us at Mercy, we look back at the members we’ve had to say goodbye to and our beloved space that was alive with color, laughter, and memories. There is no doubt we are sad, yet we are planting a new harvest with God. We are honoring the memories of the past year with the hope of what will grow from faithfulness. Let’s be clear, neither I nor the psalmist is saying that we have to suffer to find joy. Rather, our suffering will be transformed into an abundant harvest where we can play music, pray, laugh and commune with one another on a grassy lawn where nearly a hundred people gather. We are suffering, and we will suffer. But suffering will not last forever. The harvest is coming. We will be able to celebrate abundance and life.

Prayer Lord, you’ve seen our sorrows and held our tears. May they be transformed into something that brings life and abundance for ALL. Amen.

Sunday December 13 – 3rd Sunday of Advent

Author: Holly Reimer

Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11

Reflection: v. 8, ‘I the LORD, love justice’

Justice is something required of us, but I’m not talking about a ‘wild west’ kind of justice where we misuse Scripture to avenge wrongs done to us and those we love. Justice, as seen here in the prophet Isaiah, is about a social justice—something that fulfills the needs of everyone. Here’s the kicker: it is something God requires human beings to do—not something we lay at God’s feet and say, ‘It’s all yours!’ We are to be participants in God’s justice. So when we say, ‘Black lives matter,’ we aren’t insinuating that all lives don’t matter, or that God only cares about Black lives. But we are emphasizing the kind of justice God is bringing to light here in this passage—a justice that acknowledges there are a group of people who have, and continue to be, oppressed. When we love the ‘least of these,’ we are loving justice as God loves justice. Friends, we’ve messed up. There are an awful lot of children without parents. We’ve buried a lot of innocent Black men and women. LGBTQIA brothers and sisters are still shamed. Men and women are still without adequate healthcare and housing. We are still ‘othering.’ Enough is enough. As we meditate on Christ’s birth this season of Advent, while we await the one who is to come to remind us of love and justice, may we love the kind of justice that comes from God—that is inclusive. Let us live into a kind of justice where we dismantle fences to build bigger tables.

Prayer Thank you, God, for a different kind of justice, one that brings peace and wellness to all. May we continue to find the strength and courage to live out justice as you have called us to do. Amen.

Advent – Saturday, December 12

Author: Chad Hyatt

Mark 1:1-8

Reflection: v. 4, ‘John was… calling for people… to show that they were changing their hearts and lives’

Advent sometimes seems like the season of John the Baptist. But what is John saying to us, exactly? When we unpacked the beginning of Mark together in a community Bible study, we started with some good questions. Why is John wearing a camel hair coat? He’s signaling he stands in the tradition of Israel’s prophets; Elijah’s famous mantle was the same kind of hairy cloak. What’s up with that crazy diet—locusts and wild honey? It resonates with scriptural imagery, in particular the Exodus story: locusts for the plague sent on hard-hearted Egypt, honey for the land of promise flowing with milk and honey—and maybe for the sweet taste of the manna God fed the wilderness wanderers. And what about that wilderness—and the River Jordan? It’s the Exodus story, too—that long in-between as the people moved from liberation to promise and the watery way that led them to a new life. Put all these together, and the picture is clear: John is positioned as the prophetically predicted prophet who announces the beginning of a new Exodus for God’s people—and for all oppressed human beings the world over. That’s how the Gospel chooses to introduce Jesus. John is saying that the God of the Exodus is still hearing the cries of the oppressed and intervening in history to set captives free. Now is always the time for liberation. As we pondered this story together, one of our brothers reflected on how hard the holidays are for many of us, especially Christmas. Our culture paints gauzy images of home and hearth and family and fun, and we feel deeply disconnected from all of those things. But my brother also put his finger on the now possibility of a God who still hears our anguished cries and invites us toward a different kind of future. My brother, like many of us in our community, has made choices toward sobriety. With some clean time under his belt, he’s already reconnected with family. It’s a process that might seem like a wilderness, but there’s a land full of promise on the other side. And that’s really what repentance looks like—the choice to reconnect, to find an overwhelming and merciful forgiveness when we honestly admit our faults, and the promise of restored community in its wake. It seems John’s message is good news for our day, too.

Prayer God of wilderness prophets, help us choose to reconnect.

Advent – Friday, December 11

Author: Jerome Johnson

Isaiah 40:1-11

Reflection: v. 11, ‘like a shepherd’

I like this passage, because when I read it I think about God leading me. I think God is leading me because I have changed a lot since I’ve been coming to this church. I’m like one of God’s sheep and he’s my shepherd. I think God is saying that he is going to have mercy on me and that our sin has been forgiven. I am poor and feel like I’m down low in the valley sometimes, but I believe God is going to lift me up. I think God is leading me—he leads me here every day. I like listening to the word of God, and I think God is leading me to do what is right and make myself a better person. I’m working on myself, because I want to be a better person than I am. When I come here, I get strength. When I walk up, everybody gives me strength, and my community helps lead me, too. I’m working on getting me a place—housing. God is leading me there, too. In this passage, it says that people are like grass and the flower of the field, and one day we will die and fade away from this world when the breath of God has gone from us. But that’s not the end, because one day God will lift us up and all people, both rich and poor, shall see the glory of the Lord together. He will lead us like a shepherd and gather us in his arms, and we will forever be with our Lord.

Prayer Lead us O Lord, to places of health and wellness.

Advent – Thursday, December 10

Author: Brittany Fiscus-van Rossum

Mark 1:1-8

Reflection: v. 3 , ‘the voice of the one crying out in the wilderness’

One of the many reasons I love our church community so much is because of the rich and diverse theological insight I witness each week I am there. Our daily Bible studies and Sunday sermon are discussion-based and incorporate extensive input from our ecumenical community—people can ask and say whatever is on their hearts and share their stories and insight in their own words. These devotionals too have become a community project that include the thoughtful contributions of many different people. When I was still in seminary, I often gave thanks for the privilege of having the perspectives of my Mercy community members informing my education alongside other scholars and theologians. Because frankly, at Mercy I have often heard good and gospel news cried out and proclaimed in ways I had never heard growing up in the institutional church. I learned hard truths and a longing for repentance in lessons the academy could never teach. Not by my own merit or righteousness, I was graced to be led out like those going out of Jerusalem, to hear voices crying out plain and true from those marginalized places we often neglect and avoid. The voices, the preaching, the theology, and the wisdom that comes out of my community continue to call me to repentance, and I am thankful and better for it.

Prayer Lead us, O God, to those wilderness places where your prophets still speak.

Advent – Wednesday, December 9

Author: Brittany Fiscus-van Rossum

2 Peter 3: 8-15a

Reflection: v. 13, ‘a new earth, where righteousness is at home’

In its closing exhortations, the Second Letter of Peter paints an image of waiting with anticipation for the coming of the day of God and the promise of new heavens and a new earth. This imagery is similar to that used in the book of Revelation—the hopeful vision of all things being made new and right, a new earth wherein right-ness can find its abode. As I write this today (still one week before our next election), it is difficult to even dream of an earth where righteousness is at home. A vicious plague goes unchecked, powers and principalities, sworn to protect, instead endanger our basic human rights, wars rage, fires burn, families are wrenched apart, and our earth cries out under the pressures of climate change. Even within my own small sphere of influence in the community where I serve, I feel the dead and heavy weight of tomorrow’s promised thunderstorms and the growing discomfort of privileged neighbors who would rather our community gather anywhere else but within their sight. But though right now it seems near impossible to dare to dream of something better, Peter’s words to these fellow Christ-followers remind me that I must. And in that hopeful vision of a world made more righteous, I remember that that is indeed what my God desires for us. I remember that my God is steadfast, that my God stands on the side of justice, that my God loves flesh and blood human beings and will not neglect us. I remember that there will be better days, and I want to be a part of God’s work to create them.

Prayer We hope for better days, O Lord–help us to create them.