1 Peter 5:13

This is the closing line of a letter written by the apostle Peter — one of Jesus' closest disciples — to early Christian communities scattered across what is now Turkey. "She who is in Babylon" is almost certainly a coded way of referring to the church in Rome. Early Christians used "Babylon" as a nickname for Rome because, like ancient Babylon, Rome was the dominant empire that had crushed Jerusalem. "My son Mark" refers to John Mark, a young man who worked closely with both Peter and Paul, and who is credited with writing the Gospel of Mark — largely based on Peter's eyewitness accounts. This small, almost throwaway greeting reveals something significant: a persecuted, scattered people were staying deeply connected across vast distances. The early church was never meant to be isolated — it was always a global family writing letters in the dark.

Father, thank You for the reminder that faith was never meant to be a solo endeavor. Wherever I feel scattered or invisible, let me remember I belong to something much bigger — a family that spans centuries and continents. Give me the courage to reach out, and the grace to receive when someone reaches back. Amen.

Think about the last text you got from someone far away — just a few words that somehow made the world feel smaller. Peter's letter closes exactly like that: a quick shout-out from Mark, a wave from the church in Rome. Nothing theological. Just: *we see you, we're with you.* It's easy to read past these closing greetings like fine print, but they're actually the heartbeat of the letter. These were people being watched, marginalized, some of them losing jobs and family over their faith. And what held them together wasn't only shared doctrine — it was this: *you are not alone in Babylon.* You might be in your own kind of Babylon right now — a workplace that doesn't share your values, a family that doesn't understand your faith, a city where you feel like a stranger. Peter's letter was written *to* people like that, *from* people like that. The early church was a network of exiles who kept sending word to each other: *we're still here. We chose this together. Hold on.* That's not a small thing. That might be everything.