Friday, June 13, 2008

Friday, June 13, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 10:1-8

He summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits with power to drive them out and to cure all kinds of disease and all kinds of illness. These are the names of the twelve apostles: first, Simon who is known as Peter, and his brother Andrew; James the son of Zebedee, and his brother John; Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas, and Matthew the tax collector; James the son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus; Simon the Zealot and Judas Iscariot, who was also his betrayer. These twelve Jesus sent out, instructing them as follows: 'Do not make your way to gentile territory, and do not enter any Samaritan town; go instead to the lost sheep of the House of Israel. And as you go, proclaim that the kingdom of Heaven is close at hand. Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those suffering from virulent skin-diseases, drive out devils. You received without charge, give without charge.'

Prayer

Who are we Jesus? We have gathered around you now for the past two millennia. We call upon you in diverse languages and try to discern your way amid the maw of cultures that are at far odds with you.

As often as not, we lose our way. Our times, places and societies exercise far greater power over our identities than do you. Yet, there remains in me a desire to be shaped by you, to live a life that expresses you, a life in which you might recognize a soul that belongs to you.

But I cannot do that alone. It has taken me nearly all of five decades to know this. I need a community that believes the kingdom of heaven is, indeed, near, and hence can give of heart and soul without charge. I need a community that knows and is your compassion, a community where my faults can find forgiveness and a wandering soul can find welcome.

I need those who know your mission to cure and cleanse and raise the dead. (And who are more dead than they who imagine they can truly live without you and the nearness of your rule?).

I want more and more to find myself among this people of hope you create, a people defined by your mission, a people who crave your nearness and who hunger and thirst for the mercy that is your face on our earth.

For this is who we are, why we gather and why our hope is you, alone.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 9:35-10:1

Jesus made a tour through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing all kinds of disease and all kinds of illness. And when he saw the crowds he felt sorry for them because they were harassed and dejected, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, 'The harvest is rich but the laborers are few, so ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers to his harvest.' He summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits with power to drive them out and to cure all kinds of disease and all kinds of illness.

Prayer

We are modern people, Jesus. Our first move, always, is to distance ourselves from such outlandishness. We don’t believe the church has power over demons (whatever they are) or authority to cure the bodies of the broken. This is hardly our task or power. For us, that authority belongs to the medical community.

Our first move upon hearing that someone has been healed after prayer is to explain it away. We abolish the mystery by assuring ourselves it was the result of rational processes human minds can understand and chart.

In the process, we remove any promise or claim your actions might have on us. The sending of your followers becomes just an old story about someone else, long ago and far away.

Still, I wonder: What happens when people believe they have received power from you to free and heal? What happens when we imagine that we are sent with a story that is true, a love that is real? What happens when our hearts are convinced of your conviction to birth a new community fashioned by a compassion that shines on just and unjust alike, not by our ideas of justice?

I wonder if we would then know a power to speak and act and love that does, indeed, heal and set free. We then could heal and release souls from the bondages that reduce us to so much less than your desire for us.

Convince our hearts, Jesus, and send us to a world with a word that is true.

Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, June 09, 2008

Monday, June 9, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 9:35-37

Jesus made a tour through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing all kinds of disease and all kinds of illness. And when he saw the crowds he felt sorry for them because they were harassed and dejected, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, 'The harvest is rich but the laborers are few, so ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers to his harvest.'

Prayer

I have seen the harvest, Jesus. Many times. I have climbed the side of grain boxes heaped with wheat and corn. I have dug my hands deep into the grain and pulled them out, kernels running between my fingers. Then I’d do it again for the soul satisfaction of touching earth’s goodness.

In early summer, I’ve stacked bales of fresh hay on the wagon as the rhythmic hump of the baler pushed them from its bowels. We went back and forth across the field under a scorching sky, careful to bale up all the wind rows lest any be lost. Cows get hungry when the grass lies dead and buried under mid-winter snows.

So I’d pound my hands on the bales of sweet alfalfa and clover, stack them high and smile with pleasure at the honey scent in my senses and the joy of being about the business of life.

So I wonder, Jesus, what did you see and sense as you looked at the harvest, the wheat not yet cut, grain still standing in the fields?

I have an inkling. It’s not unique. It’s the same sighing as any human soul who has ever put seed into the ground: “Don’t let it be lost. Let it not be wasted. Let it come to life and grow and yield its fullness. And let me taste and know the goodness of what has been planted.”

It’s a farmer’s prayer, I suppose. I come by it naturally. After all these years of city streets, it remains indelible in my soul. And it tells me my purpose and yours. Your heart is moved by the sweet scent of the harvest. So may we labor with joy to gather the rich yield of human souls, ours and all you love lest any be lost.

Pr. David L. Miller