Rev MaryGean Cope

Tag: communion

  • A Living Hope

    A Living Hope

    New Year’s Eve. Candlelight service. Which is funny because candlelight feels peaceful, right? Contemplative. But I got a call this morning from someone whose husband just had triple bypass surgery. Lying in the hospital on New Year’s Eve. And I’m sitting there holding that phone thinking about peace.

    Here’s the thing about December 31st: we all want to believe next year will be better. Cleaner. We’ll finally get it right. But that’s not really how God works. God doesn’t give us a fresh start by magic. God says: I’ll be with you in the mess. Even the parts you thought you’d escaped.

    I was reading about the old tradition of watching for the New Year at midnight—the whole thing about “year in, year out.” Like time is just this turning wheel and you get to stand at the threshold and imagine something different. But then the phone call this morning reminded me: you don’t get a fresh year. You get a year with your actual life in it. With people you love in hospital beds. With failures from last year still hanging around.

    The real gift—if there is one—is God’s presence in that continuity. Not some magical erasing. Just God saying: I’m here. Still. Again. You don’t have to start clean. You just have to start true.

    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Table of Grace

    The Table of Grace

    When I was little, the pastor would say during communion: “Drink all of this.” And I thought that meant drain the cup. I was so committed to getting every last drop. Some of the boys in the children’s choir with me had the same idea—they really went to town on those little cups.

    But “drink all of this” doesn’t mean gulp it down. It means all of you, drink some.

    Today we talk about the communion of saints. And that’s not just about the bread and juice. It’s about being in communion with each other. When God looks at the church, God doesn’t see Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, Presbyterian. God sees one church.

    I watched it happen at the food bank when all of us—different churches, different denominations—worked side by side. Nobody could tell us apart. We were just people working together, part of one body.

    That’s what the communion of saints means. All of us who know Jesus. Past and present and future. Those who have gone before. Those here now. Those still coming. All of us, one. Forgiven, transformed, together. That’s the communion. That’s what we belong to.

    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope