Wednesday, February 03, 2016
Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
Every moment we stand in the presence of the holy. This earth, our breath, the morning sky with its promise of a new day … these do not create themselves. There was a time when they were not. Nor do they just appear … from nowhere.
They appear from Creative Source, from the Unimaginable Wonder for whom no name will do.
Every day I stand in awe before you, Holy One. I make no attempt to describe the immensity of your heart, the reach of your power or the wisdom of your plan. There are days I do not even want to speak of you. It is better to know your presence than to stand back and describe it.
I know nothing of you really. Only this: I know and feel you near even as I stumble among these keys, and I know that I love you.
I know that the glory that shines in Jesus is the Love you are, Love that brings Life from nothingness, Love that fills and lifts human beings into the full beauty you intend.
And I know that that every beauty, grace and wonder shines with you, every breath of life and each new morning, too.
Jesus’ disciples witnessed your glory shining in him and were afraid. They did not yet understand. Seeing him gives eyes to see you, the glory of Love, in all that is.
Pr. David L. Miller
Monday, February 01, 2016
2 Corinthians 3:16-18
[W]hen one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.
I don’t remember his name, only his face and simplicity. He was a Discalced Carmelite, a Roman Catholic religious order known for prayer and nurturing the spirituality of others.
At mid-life, I was learning to pray again, finding ways from the long tradition of the church I had not known.
I asked him how he prayed, expecting a method or procedure he learned from the wisdom of his tradition.
“I sit and look at Jesus,” he said, “and he looks back at me.”
That’s it. There was no more explanation, and that’s the essence of prayer.
I look at you, Jesus, and you look back. The Love in your eyes envelops me and evaporates every concern and worry, releasing me to live and love the life you have given me.
And that’s all you ever ask: To be what I am, the soul that blossoms as I sit in your gaze and know you … as you know me.
Face-to-face with you. I glow within and begin to shine with the Love that beholds me.
I pulled my car into a parking lot on Friday to watch the sky, the play of light in infinite colors and beauty played across streaks of cloud as the sun sank and slipped beneath the horizon.
I sat and looked at the sky… and you, and you looked back. We were praying, together, face-to-face.
And you were making me what you are.
Pr. David L. Miller