Friday, February 06, 2009

Friday, February 6, 2009

Today’s text

Mark 1:35-39

In the morning, long before dawn, [Jesus] got up and left the house and went off to a lonely place and prayed there. Simon and his companions set out in search of him, and when they found him they said, 'Everybody is looking for you.' He answered, 'Let us go elsewhere, to the neighboring country towns, so that I can proclaim the message there too, because that is why I came.' And he went all through Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and driving out devils.


‘That is why I came.’ It makes no sense, but the words bring strange comfort. There’s nothing remarkable about them, except the quietness I hear in your voice.

You don’t force the words, Jesus. There’s no dramatic emphasis, no steely resolve, just a simple statement expressing an unshakable awareness of who you are and what you are about.

You are about the revealing of God’s intention to change the world, to fill it with compassion and justice like water covers the sea. This is what you are about in every moment and circumstance. Your eyes fix on a single point on the far horizon that informs each word and act. Your focus never changes.

Mine does. I think that is why I am moved by your words. You know who you are, and you never lose track of the center of your soul no matter what else is happening, no matter how others respond, regardless of momentary distractions.

Approval or rejection, success or failure do not deter you from that which you came to do.

And you came to draw us into the love that burns at your heart. Little wonder that your words should bless me. You know why you are here, and you are here for me, for all of us.

God knows we all need it.

Draw us in, Jesus. May God’s loving rule be the horizon point that steers us each moment through the landscape of our days.

Fix our vision on the compassion that is your intention for our world that we, as you, may know why we are here.

Pr. David L. Miller

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Today’s text

Mark 1:32-37

That evening, after sunset, they brought to [Jesus] all who were sick and those who were possessed by devils. The whole town came crowding round the door, and he cured many who were sick with diseases of one kind or another; he also drove out many devils, but he would not allow them to speak, because they knew who he was. In the morning, long before dawn, he got up and left the house and went off to a lonely place and prayed there. Simon and his companions set out in search of him, and when they found him they said, 'Everybody is looking for you.'


You knew how to attract a crowd, Jesus. A healing or two, driving demons from the souls of the tormented: such behavior does not go unnoticed.

And when it was, you sought quiet respite for your soul. I understand that. I could use some quiet respite.

But soon enough those who need and want you come looking. Anxiety drips from their words, ‘Everybody is looking for you. Where have you been? We searched everywhere.’

They didn’t want you to escape them. But what did they want? The spectacle, to know the thrill of seeing your acts of power? To listen to your words? To enjoy your nearness and the souls they became when they were with you?

Maybe they wanted to use your power for their own purposes. It is a normal human impulse, however selfish.

All of this is true, I suppose, and more.

All we are told is that they came looking. And so do I. That’s why I am here, fingers on the keys, listening again to stories from an ancient book which have long held the power to move me into awareness of what I need to know: You.

Mysterious you, who seem close as my breath one moment and far off the next, yet who abides.

I come looking, wanting you for more reasons than I know how to say, some of them selfish, others born of a spirit beyond me. The reason doesn’t matter. What matters is that I come looking, and you receive me no matter my reason.

Today, I just want to sit with you in the dark silence and know your soul. I want to know the silence from which your words and power spring that I may be this other soul that I am when I am with you.

And nothing else matters.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Today’s text

Mark 1:29-32

And at once on leaving the synagogue, he went with James and John straight to the house of Simon and Andrew. Now Simon's mother-in-law was in bed and feverish, and at once they told him about her. He went in to her, took her by the hand and helped her up. And the fever left her and she began to serve them.


Some moments freeze in time. Time stops so that you can look at what is happening and examine it before it is lost in the next action and the next.

I see two hands, Jesus. Your brown hand reaches beneath the hand of this unnamed woman, known to us only by her relationship to one of your followers.

I see you reach down as she lifts her hands to you. You take it and raise her up, gently, slowly, with little effort, it seems. Before I see her uncertain eyes searching for yours, I see only the hands.

And they tell the story of who you are and what you are doing.

They speak your care and desire to lift us above the maladies that weigh us down, holding us to earth, preventing flights of joy and purpose.

You would lift us beyond ourselves into life.

So lift us, Jesus, that we may know the strength and care of your hand, raising us to what we yet may be.

Pr. David L. Miller