A new year is a fresh invitation to stop being “too busy” for God. He is not limited to Sundays; He longs to be welcomed into the ordinary rhythms of your days. Often the small excuses stack up—another show to watch, another chore to finish, another message to postpone—and your heart grows a little noisier. Today, choose to answer when God calls, especially through the people He places before you. Even a simple prayer, a quiet reading, or a phone call you’d rather avoid can become a doorway to grace. When He calls, may you be ready to say, God, I’m ready—let’s go. [02:32]
Micah 6:8: The Lord has already shown you what He desires: do what is right, cherish steadfast mercy, and walk closely and humbly with your God.
Reflection: What specific 15-minute window will you set apart for God this week, and what simple practice—prayer, Scripture, or a call to someone—will fill it?
It’s easy to admire love in theory and still walk past need in practice. Jesus tells of a man left half-dead on the roadside—seen but ignored—until an outsider draws near, tends wounds, carries him, and covers the cost. When you remember how Jesus found you in the ditch and lifted you up, compassion begins to outweigh convenience. Mercy is not just feeling; it is movement toward the hurting at personal cost. This week, ask God to help you notice the person you would rather not see, and then come closer. Let love interrupt your schedule. [30:43]
Luke 10:25–37: A legal expert asked how to inherit life; Jesus pointed him to loving God fully and loving one’s neighbor. To answer “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus told of a beaten man ignored by religious passersby until a Samaritan stopped, treated his wounds with oil and wine, carried him to shelter, and paid for his care. “Which person proved to be a neighbor?” The reply: “The one who showed mercy.” Jesus said, “Now go and live that way.”
Reflection: Who along your daily path has felt “half-dead” to you lately, and what concrete act of mercy will you offer in the next 48 hours?
We do not come to the table to prove ourselves; we come because we cannot heal ourselves. Communion is not a reward for the strong but nourishment for the rescued. Here we remember that our unity does not start with agreement—it starts with Jesus who gave Himself for all. We bring our weariness, our disappointments, even our disagreements, and receive the same bread and cup. At His table, He is making us one. Come hungry, leave loved, and carry His peace into the week. [31:14]
Luke 22:19–20: At the meal, Jesus took bread, gave thanks, broke it, and said it was given for them—“keep doing this to remember me.” After supper He took the cup, saying it marked a new covenant, sealed with His life poured out for many.
Reflection: As you approach the Lord’s table or pray at home, what grievance, fear, or preference will you lay down this week so someone else can feel truly welcomed?
The child in the manger drew strangers from far away—people with different language, culture, and story. They followed light through risk and uncertainty, received hospitality from unfamiliar places, and brought gifts that would sustain the holy family in their flight. At the manger, difference did not divide; Jesus gathered them. The same Jesus keeps gathering unlikely people still, asking us to cross small distances of fear or pride. Let the wideness of His love widen your welcome. [28:48]
Matthew 2:1–12: After Jesus’ birth, wise men from the east followed a star to find the child. Overjoyed, they bowed in worship and presented treasures of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Warned in a dream, they returned home by another route, showing that God was leading outsiders to honor His Son.
Reflection: Who is outside your usual circle that God may be placing before you, and how will you cross one practical step—conversation, invitation, or help—to honor them this week?
Grace doesn’t just rescue; it redirects. Having been lifted from the ditch, we become people who lift. In a season of change, the question shifts from “Why aren’t things the way I want?” to “How can I help others feel welcome?” This posture takes risks, nurtures what we did not plant, and remembers this is Christ’s church, not ours. Loved people live loved—generous, patient, ready to serve. Go and let grace overflow in word and deed. [34:37]
Ephesians 2:8–10: You have been saved by God’s grace, received through trust—not achieved by your effort, so no one can boast. We are God’s workmanship, made new in Christ Jesus to walk in the good works God prepared ahead of time.
Reflection: In light of our congregation’s new season, what one risk of love will you take this week—specific, small, and concrete—to help someone feel at home among us?
A new year invites more than resolutions; it calls for availability to God. Life is busy, excuses are easy, and spiritual habits often drift. Yet the invitation is to notice God’s presence in people, interruptions, and surprising places, and to answer when He calls. This openness frames a deeper question: as two congregations becoming one, are people genuinely happy together? The grief of a sudden building closure, the strain of change, and the unsettling costs of maintaining large spaces cannot be ignored. Real love faces reality; it asks hard questions about mission, stewardship, and the shape of worship in order to make room for new life.
Scripture reframes those questions through two scenes: the Magi and the Good Samaritan. The Magi are outsiders—different language, culture, and customs—yet they draw near, bring costly gifts, and likely fund the holy family’s flight to safety. At the manger, Jesus unites what difference divides. In the parable, law and religion pass by, but a despised Samaritan stops, draws close, bandages wounds, bears the cost, and promises to return. This is the shape of grace. Jesus is the true Samaritan who rescues the helpless, pays what they cannot, carries what they cannot, and pledges to come again.
From that gospel flow two implications. First, unity is not built by preference, similarity, or nostalgia, but by grace received and shared. The Lord’s Table is not a prize for the strong but food for the rescued; unity begins with Christ, not with human agreement. Second, the question shifts from “Why aren’t things as I want them?” to “How can I make others feel welcome?” Loved people become loving neighbors; rescued people notice those in the ditch; those paid for become generous. The congregation does not belong to any of us. It belongs to Christ. At His table He heals, gathers, and sends—so that, having been fed by love, His people can go and live loved into 2026.
Sometimes that means doing stuff in church that we don't perhaps want to do because that's what we should be doing. So I hope this year we're gonna make time for God. So when he calls, perhaps not literally on our mobile, but when he calls, that we will answer and we will know him and we will see him and we will love him. And we will say, God, I'm ready. Let's go.
[00:02:17]
(24 seconds)
#AnswerGodsCall
And that brings us to our bible readings today. Today, heard two New Testament readings rather than that usual old and New Testament pairing. But, I did it because I believe that these two stories are in some way connected even though it may not look like it at first. Because, both ask a question of us that we must wrestle with as a new congregation. What does unity look like? What does unity look like? And, who is my neighbor?
[00:26:41]
(33 seconds)
#WhoIsMyNeighbor
Yet, it was these outsiders who chose to travel through danger. It was these outsiders who relied on hospitality from strangers and unfamiliar places to find their way. It was these outsiders who brought gifts. Gifts that may well have enabled Mary and Joseph to take Jesus and flee to find refuge. It was these outsiders who were profoundly different from Mary and Joseph. And yet, and yet at the manger found unity. Because Jesus transcended every difference that separated them and brought them together.
[00:28:13]
(52 seconds)
#UnityInDifference
He binds the wounds. He pours oil and wine over the wounds. He lifts the man up and onto his own animal. He carries him to an inn and he pays the full cost. And then, he promises to return. Like Jesus would go on to do on the third day. The injured man does nothing. He does nothing except be rescued. And, this is the gospel message.
[00:30:10]
(36 seconds)
#RescuedNotEarned
``Because Jesus is the true Samaritan. He comes to bind our brokenness. He binds our wounds. He carries what we cannot carry. He pays our debt that we cannot pay. And, he promises to return. And so, this is why we come to his table today. Because communion is not a reward for the faithful. It's the food for the rescue. At this table, we do not need to prove our worth. Nor do we come to settle old scores. We do not arrive at his table strong or successful or united or complete. We come as those who have been found in the ditch.
[00:30:47]
(43 seconds)
#TableOfRescue
We come because Christ has already done what we could not do. We come because we ask ourselves. We ask ourselves, are we happy as a congregation? Here, is broken not because we united but to make us one. Here, the cup is shared not because we agree but because Christ has given himself for all. At this table, we discover again that our unity does not begin with us, it begins with Christ.
[00:31:35]
(40 seconds)
#UnityBeginsWithChrist
Because we have love, being loved, we love. Because we have been rescued, we notice others. Because grace have been poured out on us, grace begins to overflow from each of us. The Good Samaritan and the Magi teach us that love is not about proximity or similarity. It's not about agreeing or being the same. Differences are not obstacles to divide us. They're opportunities to unite us.
[00:32:45]
(34 seconds)
#GraceUnitesUs
It would have been easier for those wise men, those Magi to stay home, but they didn't. It would have been easy for the Samaritan to walk on by, but he didn't. For us for us, unity means asking a different question. How can I help others feel welcome? How can I bring happiness to someone else? Rather than defaulting to thinking and saying, why are things not being the way that I know, that I want? Because to do so only causes people to turn away and feel unwelcome and unloved.
[00:34:12]
(48 seconds)
#ChooseWelcome
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