Counting the Days: December 24, 2025

Called by Name

Rev. Kelli W. Taylor, D.Min.
University Chaplain and Dean of Religious & Spiritual Life

Read: Luke 1:57–80 and Matthew 1:21

“The best of all, God is with us.”
– John Wesley (AD 1790 – AD 1791)

There’s a moment in the Advent story that is often overshadowed by angels singing and shepherds running: the moment Zechariah finally speaks. After months of silence, months of watching, pondering, and learning to trust what his voice could not yet proclaim, Zechariah names his son,  just as the angel instructed. Scripture says that immediately “his mouth was opened, his tongue set free, and he began to praise God.” I imagine that first word leaving his lips trembled with more than sound. The word carried relief, awe, humility, and wonder. After all, waiting changes us. And silence teaches us to listen.

Every year on commencement day at Methodist University, I get a small taste of Zechariah’s moment. For weeks – and truly, for years – I watch our students: studying late, crying in frustration, laughing in hallways, finding their voice, changing their major, changing again, failing, trying, growing, and – most miraculously – becoming. Then the moment arrives: commencement and the walk across the stage. The reader begins: “Emily…” “Michael…” “Juan…” “Aaliyah…” “Luke…” “Kiley…”  And my throat tightens, not because they’ve completed degree requirements, though that matters, but because every name spoken aloud feels holy. Each one is a calling, not just a credential. Commencement reminds me: God still calls people by name.

Zechariah knew this. John was appointed to prepare the way of the Lord. John’s calling was Advent!  So, when John entered the world, it was not just the birth of a child, it was the beginning of a calling. And the same is true of Jesus. Matthew writes, “You shall call him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” His name was not chosen because it sounded lovely (though it does) but because it tells the truth about who he is and why he came. Jesus. The Lord saves. Emmanuel. God with us. The Word spoken into silence, breaking it open with hope.

Tonight, we reach the end of Advent, and of the waiting season. Like Zechariah, we move from silence to proclamation: Christ is born! Not only then, in Bethlehem, wrapped in cloth and held by weary young parents, but here, now, in us. Tonight, something commences. Hope takes a breath. Mercy learns to walk. Grace is no longer theory; it has a heartbeat. And just as I pray for each student whose name echoes across the Coliseum at commencement, I pray now for you: that you would know the God who has called you by name, that you would feel the weight and wonder of being wanted by the One who created galaxies and still notices when you are tired, discouraged, joyful, afraid, or overwhelmed, and that God-with-us, once born in a stable, would be born again tonight in your spirit, your home, your decisions, your relationships, your future. Advent is over. The waiting has given way to wonder. Christ is born, then in Bethlehem, and tonight, once more, in us. A holy and blessed Christmas to you.

A Campus Blessing

Holy and Gracious God,
As this campus settles into winter’s quiet, we pause to remember that You are Emmanuel, God with us. Bless every classroom and every hallway, every office and every residence hall. May Your peace rest upon those who remain here and those who travel far from this place.

Bless the students whose minds are tired, whose hearts are tender, and whose spirits are searching. Bless faculty and staff who have poured themselves out in service, teaching, guidance, and care. Bless the leaders who carry the weight of decisions, and the unseen hands who repair, prepare, clean, and sustain the life of this campus.

Lord, let Your joy break into weary places and Your hope rise in uncertain hearts. Where there has been stress or struggle, bring rest. Where there has been loneliness, bring friendship. Where there has been fear, let Your love cast it out.

As lights shine across our campus, may they become signs of Your promise:
that darkness will not overcome the light,
that every heart has a home in Your love,
and that Christ is born, once in Bethlehem,
and again today, within us.

Go with us until we gather again.
Keep us safe, keep us growing, and keep us mindful that Your presence never leaves us, not for a season, not for a moment.

In the name of our Peace, our Joy, our Everlasting Hope,

Amen.