The blessing of fear

Do not be afraid of them,

for I am with you to deliver you, says the Lord.’

Then the Lord put out his hand and touched my mouth; and the Lord said to me,
‘Now I have put my words in your mouth.
See, today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms,
to pluck up and to pull down,
to destroy and to overthrow,
to build and to plant.’ (Jeremiah 1:8-10)

The blessing of fear

These are the Lord’s words to his young prophet, Jeremiah, who lived in tumultuous times. His unfortunate task was proclaiming destruction to the great city of Jerusalem at the hands of a neighboring nation boiling hot for conquest.

It was a job no one should want, and all it ever got him was a boatload of trouble from fellow citizens who variously cursed and imprisoned him. Eventually, they threw him in a cistern where, fortunately, there was no water. He probably died in Egypt where his countrymen drug him as they escaped the carnage of their own country.

It’s the kind of story that makes for good cinema, but no one would want to live it.

What must it feel like to have a message written so deeply in your heart that you had to share it, even though you knew people would hate you for it? This was Jeremiah’s fate and the great pain he suffered for knowing God in the depth of his heart.

That should make us second guess our desire to get really close to this Holy Mystery, who might require a courage and conviction of us that we know we don’t have.

Still, the desire to feel God close stirs within. We long to hear that Voice whisper within, “Do not be afraid for I am with you.”

I suppose that’s the great thing about fear, the blessing of challenges that are too big for us. It is exactly then, exactly there that we are most likely to hear that Voice that quiets everything else.

Pr. David L. Miller

Freely and fully

There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.’ When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led [Jesus] to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. (Luke 4:27-29)

Freely and fully

Only a free God is worth having; anything less is just a reflection of ourselves.

Trouble is, a free God can’t be tied to a particular place or people, to a preferred culture or way of operating. Divine freedom means we are not in control of much of anything. God can and will do crazy things, scary things, showing up in ungodlike  places, loving the wrong people, challenging our cherished opinions and pet theories about how God acts … or should.

Jesus offends his neighbors, telling them they have no particular claim on the attention and goodness of God. Furthermore, they never did, which was quite contrary to popular opinion.

God is free to be God for everyone, everywhere, which means the reach of the divine heart stretches beyond any and every horizon we can see.

That’s bad news for those who like to draw lines and exclude people, claiming some imagined superiority. But it is good news for every humble heart eager to receive what God in utter freedom lavishes upon every soul.

The first blessing is life itself, breath, the gift of waking under an expansive blue sky on a summer day, golden light filtering through the blinds, bidding the heart to live, one more day, knowing that this precious green planet and one’s own miniscule life are an incalculable miracle, an immense mystery, for there is no reason that they should be.

Except, they are. We are. Here. Existing. And every moment of this day is a holy gift, every breath, too, from a Living Source, who creates and blesses in infinite freedom, pouring out goodness that every people in every place might see and smile, knowing that nothing and no one can stem the generosity of the divine heart.

Jesus’ whole life is a parable of God’s freedom to give life and love beyond every human expectation.

Freely this great Love gives, so freely receive, then smile … and share the joy of God.

Pr. David L. Miller

Live, love, trust

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground unperceived by your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:29-31)

Live, love, trust

A mallard sits in the middle of the street on our little cul-de-sac. Today, he sits alone. Other days his mate sits beside him. After a rain, they waddle down the street amid the puddles.

They are unconcerned with we, who call this street home. Apparently, it is their home, too, although their home is larger than the meager square feet of the townhouses that line Old George Way.

Their home includes the bushes where they shelter from the sun and the tiny pond where they shower beneath the spray shooting skyward. They also claim the sidewalk and the day lilies in back of the house.

Occasionally, our movements stir them, but they have no problem staring down cars forced to divert around them on the street. We pay our taxes and mortgages, but they own the place.

That’s fine with me; I suspect with the neighbors, too. We live together in harmony, although the mallards appear to have fewer worries. They live in the moment, inviting us to watch and learn, although I wonder how many human hearts are capable of such.

More than one spiritual writer suggests that anything that invites you to trust love is, for all practical purposes, Christ for you, at least in that moment. If so, then my mallard neighbor is the voice of the Love, who says, ‘Do not be afraid, you are of more value than the sparrows.’ I assume Jesus would include ducks in this, too.

My mallard neighbor has little idea that he is my teacher, the voice of Love who says, “Live, love, trust. You have no idea how precious you are.”

I just hope he returns often to sit outside my window. I can always use a reminder.

Pr. David L. Miller