Friday, March 28, 2008

Friday, March 28, 2008

Today’s text

John 20:24-29

Thomas, called the Twin, who was one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples said to him, 'We have seen the Lord,' but he answered, 'Unless I can see the holes that the nails made in his hands and can put my finger into the holes they made, and unless I can put my hand into his side, I refuse to believe.' Eight days later the disciples were in the house again and Thomas was with them. The doors were closed, but Jesus came in and stood among them. 'Peace be with you,' he said. Then he spoke to Thomas, 'Put your finger here; look, here are my hands. Give me your hand; put it into my side. Do not be unbelieving any more but believe.' Thomas replied, 'My Lord and my God!' Jesus said to him: You believe because you can see me. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.

Prayer

My Lord, I am Thomas. And it brings me no shame, only joy. I believe because I have seen and continue to see. Is not seeing … something … the source of faith for all us?

There are few of us who would not trade places with Thomas. I want to be the one who touches your ruined hands, who grasps your broken feet and gazes at your side.

I want to see you alive again. I hunger to hear your voice inviting me touch and know. My eyes ache to see the marks of love glorified and be moved, as now, to tears, which praise you in ways my mouth cannot. Thank you for them. They are your gift.

And thank you that, I, like Thomas, have seen you alive. I see the wonder of your resurrection in good and gentle souls who throughout my days have welcomed me to touch their hands and feet, souls and lives. There I touch and taste and know that you are good … and alive.

I keep bumping into a strange, translucent love in odds places and unexpected moments, in friends’ hearts and strangers’ smiles. And each time it fills me with a joy and an unwavering hope that evokes awareness of something that cannot be confined to our time, to any time.

It is the same joy and hope I know when I watch you speaking one word to your friends, “Peace.”

So I see, and believe, and say, “My Lord and My God.”

I am Thomas. And there is no shame in me, only joy.

Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Today’s text

John 20:19-23

In the evening of that same day, the first day of the week, the doors were closed in the room where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews. Jesus came and stood among them. He said to them, 'Peace be with you,' and, after saying this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples were filled with joy at seeing the Lord, and he said to them again, 'Peace be with you. 'As the Father sent me, so am I sending you.' After saying this he breathed on them and said: Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone's sins, they are forgiven; if you retain anyone's sins, they are retained.

Prayer

I see now what holiness is, my Friend. Many spirits haunt human hearts. We see and feel them: the proud and arrogant, the humble and gentle, the fearful and melancholy, the joyous and generous.

You give the Holy Spirit, granting your beloved authority to forgive sins or retain them. But the desire of your holiness is clear. You hunger to release me into freedom. The Spirit that is Holy sets human hearts free to live. She enlarges the life in our lungs, and I have seen and known it.

It is a holy and precious thing to release a human soul from the weight of shame and guilt. I have looked them in the eye, Jesus, and spoken: Your sins are forgiven, full and free.

The words are powerful. They have effect.

Lightness of being enters the room where unholy heaviness just reigned. The soul straightens up and draws the fullness of breath into constricted lungs. They suck it in, unable to get enough. Their tight face relaxes. A small smile replaces the frown lately there and expands across their face. They are alive again, truly, and free.

You see this, Jesus, and smile. This is holy. This is the breath the Spirit breathes. Holiness is this human soul, fully alive. And holiness is the Spirit that seeks fullness of life and being for all you love.

Breathe this Spirit in us that we may be … and make free. Then we truly will glorify your risen name.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Today’s text

John 20:19-23

In the evening of that same day, the first day of the week, the doors were closed in the room where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews. Jesus came and stood among them. He said to them, 'Peace be with you,' and, after saying this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples were filled with joy at seeing the Lord, and he said to them again, 'Peace be with you. 'As the Father sent me, so am I sending you.' After saying this he breathed on them and said: Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone's sins, they are forgiven; if you retain anyone's sins, they are retained.

Prayer

I do not know why we are not more proud of our wounds. We, too, have scarred hands, injured sides and broken hearts. We hide them mostly; fearing people will see our pain and know our weakness. Vulnerable we are, and we all know it. Yet, we hide.

But here you stand, Jesus, exposing the marks of your weakness. And there is no shame in you, no hiding. You offer your broken body as gift. And so it is, a gift of love.

Your ruined hands and gaping side are love’s wounds, won in the bitter battle of love with all that is not. You love much, so you suffer much. That’s the way it is for us, too, Jesus. It’s the human state.

Not even your resurrection removes your wounds. They remain, transfigured, but still there. Marks of love glorified, each speaking the compassion you are. They cannot be wiped clean without destroying your identity, your truth, the healing you bear.

And you shall bear your wounds through all eternity. And we? Our wounds move us to you for healing. Heal them, Jesus, but let love’s wounds remain. They are the best part of me.

Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, March 24, 2008

Monday, March 24, 2008

Today’s text

John 20:18-20

So Mary of Magdala told the disciples, 'I have seen the Lord,' and that he had said these things to her. In the evening of that same day, the first day of the week, the doors were closed in the room where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews. Jesus came and stood among them. He said to them, 'Peace be with you,' and, after saying this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples were filled with joy at seeing the Lord,

Prayer

You speak, Risen One, and the word is that for which our hearts pine: ‘Peace.’

Stillness fills the soul as I sit and listen to your voice: ‘Peace be with you.’

The quiet timbre of the word echoes through corridors of the mind. It exorcises the fevered rancor of daily living, emptying the noise, clearing space to be, just to be, setting all at rest.

And I sink into your words: Peace. Peace be with me. Peace be with me.

Peace: over and again, repeating your first risen word as the secret knowledge you impart to the soul. Peace: freeing me to humbly be that which you have made, neither more than less. The soul quiets, at rest.

Freedom comes at the sound of your voice bearing the first and most central word you would have me hear and know well: Peace.

You create in me this quiet space where I dwell at rest with you, where I can welcome all you love, where our joy together may abound.

So let me ever hear your first risen word.

Pr. David L. Miller

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Today’s text

John 20:9-16

But Mary was standing outside near the tomb, weeping. Then, as she wept, she stooped to look inside, and saw two angels in white sitting where the body of Jesus had been, one at the head, the other at the feet. They said, 'Woman, why are you weeping?' 'They have taken my Lord away,' she replied, 'and I don't know where they have put him.' As she said this she turned round and saw standing there, though she did not realize that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, 'Woman, why are you weeping? Who are you looking for?' Supposing him to be the gardener, she said, 'Sir, if you have taken him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will go and remove him.' Jesus said, 'Mary!' She turned round then and said to him in Hebrew, 'Rabbuni!'-which means Master.

Prayer

‘I do not know where they have put him.’

No longer do they put you anywhere, Jesus. There is no where you can be put. You go where you please to all that you love, and you love all. It is your risen pleasure to go to all and in all places to appear in heart-rending surprise.

My heart cries with Mary, searching for you and not finding, only to be found by you, and then to cry again at the mystery of your risen nearness.

‘Who are you looking for?’ You ask.

I look for you, dearest Friend. I look for you in every face and on dreariest days. I look for you, thirsty for your presence. But you already abide in risen nearness in the depths of my confused soul. Your risen life plays in every face I see and every street I walk.

You are the source of my searching, the love that burns my soul fanning my thirst for More: more love, more presence, more of whatever you are in risen glory.

For you live. There just is no killing you, not now. For you are the life of eternity, searching dusty corridors of soul and unknown corners of the cosmos to break our hearts again. And you do, for you are that love that holds nothing back and holds all things together.

And you are risen.

I have no words on this Easter Day to give voice to the wonder of your life, nor for the surprise that you should appear also to me, here and now.

Accept my poor praise, the emblem of a grateful soul.

Pr. David L. Miller