MSI Press Blog

  Every January, Christians around the world step into a quiet, steady rhythm of prayer for something both ancient and urgently contemporary: unity. The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, observed each year from January 18–25 in the Northern Hemisphere, is an eight‑day (“octave”) tradition shared across denominations, cultures, and continents. It’s one of the few moments in the Christian calendar when Catholics, Orthodox, Protestants, and many free‑church communities intentionally pray the same prayers, reflect on the same Scriptures, and hold the same hope: “That they all may be one” (John 17:21). 📅 When It Happens January 18–25 every year in the Northern Hemisphere In the Southern Hemisphere, many communities observe it between Ascension and Pentecost to align with their summer season The January dates were originally chosen to fall between two symbolic feasts: January 18: Feast of St. Peter January 25: Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul These two apostles — somet...

  In commemoration of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, MSI Press is making the award-winning ecumenical book,   An Afternoon's Dictation  (Greenebaum), available on Kindle countdown January 18-25. In addition, the paperback edition is available from the MSI Press webstore at 1/3 off for this week:  An Afternoon's Dictation: Inclusive Revelation for the Twenty-First Century - MSI Press MSI Press Book Description:  In 1999 Steven Greenebaum felt he'd hit the wall. Fifty years old, he could not make sense of his life or the world around him. For several months he angrily demanded answers from God, if God were there. One afternoon, an inner voice told him to get a pen and paper and write. Steven then took dictation - three pages, not of commandments but guidance for leading a meaningful life.   An Afternoon's Dictation  grapples with, organizes, and deeply explores the revelations Steven received and then studied for over ten years. His sharing is N...

  The day after Epiphany is always quieter. The star has already been followed. The gifts have already been given. The Magi have already gone home by another road. And yet — in 2026 — the day after Epiphany feels strangely louder. Because we wake up to a world still splintered by fear, suspicion, and competing truths. We wake up to neighbors who no longer trust one another. We wake up to systems that feel brittle, and communities that feel tired. Epiphany is supposed to be about revelation — the moment when the hidden becomes visible, when the light breaks in. But the day after Epiphany asks a harder question: What do we do with revelation once we have it? The Magi saw clearly — and then they acted differently They didn’t overthrow Herod. They didn’t fix the political landscape. They didn’t solve the violence of their time. But they did refuse to participate in it. They chose a different road. A quieter resistance. A small, defiant act of fidelity to what they ha...