Saturday, February 15, 2014

Today’s text

Matthew 5:21-24

'You have heard how it was said to our ancestors, “You shall not kill;” and if anyone does kill he must answer for it before the court. But I say this to you, anyone who is angry with a brother will answer for it before the court; anyone who calls a brother “Fool” will answer for it before the Sanhedrin; and anyone who calls him “Traitor” will answer for it in hell fire. So then, if you are bringing your offering to the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar, go and be reconciled with your brother first, and then come back and present your offering.’

Reflection

Let me tell you about Bill. He is three years old. I've changed his name to protect the guilty.

Bill’s life recently changed. His parents brought a new baby home from the hospital, and Bill is resisting the new situation.

Before the baby, Bill woke up every morning knowing that the day would be about him. The world revolved around him. His parents’ primary concern was him.

Now, there is this intruder. If he cries, people come running. If he is hungry, he is quickly fed. If visitors come to the door, they want to see this new guy who does nothing but eat, sleep, grunt, cry and make messes. And if grandma shows up, she first wants to hold the baby, not Bill.

Bill’s reply to all this, “he’s not yours,” he tells his mother. “He’s not yours.”

Once, Bill knew that life was all about him. It was about keeping him happy and giving him what he wanted and needed.

Now, he must learn that the story of his home is about others, too. It is about finding a way for everyone to get what they need, so there is unity and peace, care and concern for everyone in the household.

It’s a tough learning process for three year-olds, with lots of disappointments, anger and tears, but this is the way of maturity.

It is hard for us, too. Maturity, spiritual maturity is about learning to live in a larger story that is not all about me. …. And this is what Jesus invites you and me to learn as we walk with him.

When Jesus says, “Follow me,” he invites us to see what God is doing. He calls us out of our narrow, ego-centric worlds and shows us that God’s plan for the universe is to draw everyone and everything into a unity of peace where his care and love is shared with all.

He invites to live out this larger story in every relationship of our lives so that God’s kingdom might come and his will might be done.

He invites us to spiritual maturity, where his will for unity and peace, for mercy and justice for everyone stands at the center of your hearts and minds.

This is a big shift. And it also why he talks about our anger.

Our self-centered angers are a chief obstacle that prevents us from walking his way. It gets in the way of the unity and peace that is God’s will for us.

It takes very little thought to see this.

Every day, I drive north on Mill St. as I come to church. And every week, at least once, someone cuts me off at one of the four-way stops. Someone can’t wait their turn.

And every week, some part of me is aggravated that they think they are more important--or where they are going--is more important than my business.

I know you’ve never had this experience or that reaction. And no one here has ever said a few choice words or gesticulated when you get cut off on the highway.

We all have an in-born sense of fair play, and our internal fairness monitor sounds an alarm we are treated unfairly or don’t get our share. Anger springs to life because we feel diminished or taken advantage of.

Ego, pride, our sense of self and value can easily get violated, even by something as small as someone going out of turn.

The anger that follows separates us from each other. It moves us to push others away, to reject or pout. It even divides entire nations, peoples and ethnic groups, making enemies of each other and creating alienation that last for centuries. I certainly saw that in my years of reporting from troubled places around the world.

Anger creates the hell of separation and hatred. It moves millions to resist the unity and peace, of compassion and joy into which God is drawing us.

So what do we do with that anger? What do we do when partners or family, friend or strangers offend and trouble us, which always happens sooner or later?

We walk the way of Jesus. We pray our anger in all its rawness and bitterness. We offer it to God knowing all we are is accepted and will be healed as he wraps us in love as we pray.

We exercise or run or work off our excess energy. We share it with a friend or partner willing to listen and let us get it off our chest, people who will remind us that … we are not our anger. We are not the momentary emotions that pass through us.

We are players in a big story, the story of a love that wants us, and wants us to follow and live the way of peace, the way of mercy, the way of Jesus that heals a broken world.

Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Today’s text

Matthew 5:21-24

'You have heard how it was said to our ancestors, “You shall not kill;” and if anyone does kill he must answer for it before the court. But I say this to you, anyone who is angry with a brother will answer for it before the court; anyone who calls a brother “Fool” will answer for it before the Sanhedrin; and anyone who calls him “Traitor” will answer for it in hell fire. So then, if you are bringing your offering to the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar, go and be reconciled with your brother first, and then come back and present your offering.’

Reflection

Last night, the evening news carried faces of anger into my living room. Nothing unusual about that, the news always includes stories about the destruction wrought by people and nations enflamed by rage.

But these images were disturbing because they were close-up and involved people doing something most of us do everyday--driving.

The subject of the story was road rage. And the disturbing images were faces of people carried away by their anger, twisted and distorted faces yelling and cursing as they physically beat on the cars of those who had become objects of their rage.

Their twisted faces are, in fact, a distortion of humanity, a degradation of what human beings are and are created to be.

This is easy to see when the anger is that of someone else and when we are calm and uninvolved. But when we are violated by injustice or disrespect anger makes us forget that other human beings are so much more than objects for our approval or disapproval.

It is easy to forget that each is an expression of the creative love of God, even when they don’t act like it and seem to deserve condemnation. It is also easy to forget that our lives are not about winning and losing or about protecting ourselves and our dignity.

We are players in a big story. The Spirit of God is working unity among all people and creation.

The anger that separates us from each other, the anger that denounces and rejects, that pushes others away and divides people and nations from each other violates the Spirit’s work. Such anger creates the hell of separation, the twisted distortions I saw on my TV screen.

There is a good anger, a righteous anger that knows and feels what God is doing from one end of creation to another. We have seen such anger in the lives of great saints and leaders, the Martin Luther Kings of the world, but also in common lives moved to feed the hungry, seek justice and live with mercy.

Their anger is directed toward all that destroys the holy oneness, the unity of compassion and joy into which God is drawing us. In that unity, no one is an object, and twisted faces can relax and find their dignity.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Today’s text

Matthew 5:14-16

'You are light for the world. A city built on a hill-top cannot be hidden. No one lights a lamp to put it under a tub; they put it on the lamp-stand where it shines for everyone in the house. In the same way your light must shine in people's sight, so that, seeing your good works, they may give praise to your Father in heaven.

Reflection

I am struck by a phrase, “Why not me?” It reflects a kind of Jesus-consciousness even when the person is not at all religious or doesn’t think much about Jesus.

I heard it again recently from television as a young man was being interviewed about a charity he founded before he had reached his teens. The organization works to free children in Asia from abusive child-labor practices.

The interviewer asked, “Why you?”

Looking straight into the camera with complete conviction, he answered, “Why not me?”

I have heard that reply before from people who have done something significant, even something amazing that saves lives or eases the pains and needs of the world.

And each time I cannot get it out of my mind. Why not me?

Most often, the answer is because we … make that I … lack the consciousness that Jesus offers.

You are light for the world. That means ‘I am light for the world.” Light is in me.  Light is my deepest identity, and it is ready to shine out and glow in the darkness of a world that needs a little more light.

There is no maybe here, no suggestion that if I pray harder or put more effort into it I will become light.

Jesus turns us back to ourselves as if to say, “Wake up! Don’t you see who you are? You are light, now, already. The light of my life is in you. It is already there, so let it shine.”

This is Jesus-consciousness, the awareness that the light of God is in us, whether we acknowledge it or not, whether we are aware of it or not.

Jesus-consciousness is about becoming aware of the light within ourselves that can shine in our corner of the world to awaken joy and gratitude to God in those around us.

We think far too little of ourselves because we do not know who we are. We are not convinced of our identity. We … you … are light.

Never again look at the struggles of the world, the pain of others that moves you and ask, “Why me?”

People of the light ask a different question.

Pr. David L. Miller

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Today’s text

Matthew 5:1-9 

Seeing the crowds, he (Jesus) went onto the mountain. And when he was seated his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak. This is what he taught them: How blessed are the poor in spirit: the kingdom of Heaven is theirs. Blessed are the gentle: they shall have the earth as inheritance. Blessed are those who mourn: they shall be comforted. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for uprightness: they shall have their fill. Blessed are the merciful: they shall have mercy shown them. Blessed are the pure in heart: they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers: they shall be recognized as children of God.

Reflection

There is only One who is truly blessed, and there is only one true blessedness.

God is the Blessed One, and blessedness is to know God from the inside, as a participant, and not from the outside looking in.

Christian theology long ago fixed on the concept of Trinity, tri-unity, as a way to describe the indescribable God. A stream, a river of infinite and unending love, flows through God.

No, that is wrong. God, the Blessed One, is this flow of mutually shared love coursing among the three expressions of God, Father, Son and Spirit.

Blessedness is to feel and know yourself within that flow as it bears you up, pulls you along, fills your heart, stirs your energy and gives you life in the face of all that would drain it from you.

Poverty and sorrow, weakness and fear, denial of justice, hunger for mercy denied, rejection and conflict--they all mar the beauty of creation and human life.

But the stream of blessedness, the current of love that flows from the heart of God through every corner of creation is not dammed up by the misfortunes of life. It is not held back by the things that we imagine must destroy human happiness and our joy.

The current of Divine love flows through all of this, through misfortunes and pains, through successes and moments of great elation. Ironically, it is often the pains of life that are most likely to draw us into the stream of true blessedness

Where ever and however the currents of love find and fill us, touch and renew us, there is God, there is blessedness, there we find ourselves in God, inside the wonder we cannot define but only experience.

Nor can we make blessedness happen for ourselves. It is always gift, the gift of being in the God-heart, feeling carried, lifted and filled by a current of love that never runs dry.

But we can do something. We can open our mind and senses to the face, places and ways the divine current of blessedness runs through our lives and times--and go there, often!

And we can notice the ways and places we pull away--in sarcasm or cynicism, in anxiety and self-seeking, in hurts and hatreds--from the people and means through which the wonder of blessedness reaches us and pulls us into its flow.

This choice still belongs to us. It is the choice between jumping in the river on one hand, or complaining that life is too hot and dry while standing on the bank.

Pr. David L. Miller

Thursday, January 23, 2013

Today’s text

Matthew 4:17-22

From then onwards Jesus began his proclamation with the message, 'Repent, for the kingdom of Heaven is close at hand.' As he was walking by the Lake of Galilee he saw two brothers, Simon, who was called Peter, and his brother Andrew; they were making a cast into the lake with their net, for they were fishermen. And he said to them, 'Come after me and I will make you fishers of people.' And at once they left their nets and followed him. Going on from there he saw another pair of brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John; they were in their boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. And at once, leaving the boat and their father, they followed him.

Reflection

Sometimes I sit in my favorite basement chair early in the morning, and I read. I read a few verses and I try to see it.

For some reason, it is easy to see these verses: Jesus walking by a lakeshore. He walks alone and sees two fishermen. “Come with me. I will show you how to fish for people,” he says.

They look at each other, brush off their hands, jump off the boat and follow him.

I have often wondered why they did so. Were they tired of fishing? Were they sick of their family? Did they want to get away from the old man telling them what to do?

Did they have empty heart that needed to be filled? Or maybe they had emotional or physical wounds they thought this strange man, Jesus, could heal.

But as I see this scene … and feel what might have been in them as they dropped their nets to follow … I don’t think they went after him to fill some inner emptiness or to heal their wounds.

I feel fascination. I feel excitement, a hunger for adventure, a desire to go and see.

Something about Jesus fascinated them so that they wanted to be near him. Something made them want to know what it was like to spend time with him, to see what he saw, to feel what he felt, to be part of his work and mission.

They did not go after him to fix something negative in their lives, but to become part of something positive, something unknown and exciting, something that ignited their sense of adventure and willingness to take a journey to new places and experiences.

There was just something about Jesus they wanted to be near.

As I sit in my chair and imagine, I see and feel the scene; I get it.

As I see them get up and follow Jesus, there is nothing else I want to do than to be there, with him, seeing and feeling him.

His presence in the quiet of the basement room opens my mind and heart to possibilities for living a life that is free and beautiful, a life of adventure where each day is new and filled with possibilities to bless and be blessed.

Sitting in my chair, I know why they got up and left their boats, not knowing where hey were going or what would happen.

They just wanted to be with the mystery of whomever and whatever he was … because being with him was better than being anywhere else.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday January 21, 2014

Today’s text

Matthew 4:17

From then onwards Jesus began his proclamation with the message, 'Repent, for the kingdom of Heaven is close at hand.'

Reflection

How close is your kingdom, O Lord?

Every day I wake to a where the innocent and even infants fall to outrageous fates of disease and hardship, where the curse of war and the obscenity of hunger destroy whole societies.

We see it and pray in our sanctuaries, “they kingdom come,” often not knowing that it for these--the hungry, the broken, the forgotten that we are praying, not just for the grace of your nearness to rule in our hearts.

We pray for the world,  also little knowing that the kingdom is not far off culmination but a present reality in the midst of that broken world, a presence that is always near, always here, always waiting to be acknowledged and entered.

For the kingdom from heaven has come to earth and is present here.

It is not definable in geographic terms. It is not here or there. It is wherever you are, and you are near to all, but always as possibility, waiting to be acknowledged and received and entered.

The kingdom appears each time your justice and mercy is received so that it begins to transform human lives and relationships, cultures and societies.

Like a mustard seed, it seems small, but rooted in the soul of created life it grows into a great and beautiful tree giving shade and rest, coolness in the heart of the day, its leaves cleansing the foul air of human bitterness and discord.

The kingdom is wherever you are, Holy One, and you are here telling me once more to open my eyes and ears to see and hear the kingdom of your mercy and justice in the sounds of the day, beckoning me receive to enter once more.

Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, January 15, 2013

Today’s text

John 1:29-33

The next day, he saw Jesus coming towards him and said, 'Look, there is the lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world. t was of him that I said, "Behind me comes one who has passed ahead of me because he existed before me." I did not know him myself, and yet my purpose in coming to baptize with water was so that he might be revealed to Israel.' And John declared, 'I saw the Spirit come down on him like a dove from heaven and rest on him. I did not know him myself, but he who sent me to baptize with water had said to me, "The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and rest is the one who is to baptize with the Holy Spirit."

 Reflection

For years this baptism of the Holy Spirit was a mystery to me, and to some extent it always will be. In my mind, Pentecostal Christians had cornered the market on this language.

For them, this baptism looked like the Day of Pentecost, people speaking in different languages, exuberant displays of unexplainable supernatural gifts of healing and interpretation, highly emotional expressions of prayer and praise, fire and brimstone.

As a teen, my Illinois village had a storefront church for a short time. Sometimes I dropped by their mid-week prayer meeting where I was repeatedly told that if I didn’t speak in tongues or show some sign of baptism in the Spirit, “you will burn.” The fires of Hell were being stoked for people like me.

But Jesus didn’t speak in tongues. He certainly healed, but I don’t think this is the heart of what it means to be baptized in the Spirit, as Jesus was.

And it is a matter of heart.

We cannot know the secrets of Jesus’ inner life, but we do know he shared a deep and abiding intimacy with the heavenly Father. They abided together in his heart as one, a loving unity which was the source of Jesus compassion and wisdom, his peace and his power.

We know he retreated into solitude to savor this unity that likely required no words. The fact that his disciples asked to be taught a prayer probably means they had not--or only seldom-- heard him pray aloud.

Perhaps Jesus prayer was this quiet awareness of the Father’s abiding in his depths.

Baptism in the Spirit is immersion into this unity that Jesus shared with the heavenly father.

It is the gift of this deep and intense relationship of mutual love with the Father in which his heart transforms our hearts, so that his will and ours are one, a unity of loving and passionate purpose.

This is a gift not once given but is sought daily. We enter it again and again in open-hearted prayer and live it out in the mundane details of the day.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday January 14, 2013

Today’s text

John 1:29-31

The next day, he saw Jesus coming towards him and said, 'Look, there is the lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world. It was of him that I said, "Behind me comes one who has passed ahead of me because he existed before me." I did not know him myself, and yet my purpose in coming to baptize with water was so that he might be revealed to Israel.'

Reflection

In Jesus presence--and in the presence of the sacraments of Jesus, separation is disappears.  Sin is removed.

Sin is a power in our lives. It not so much bad or evil things that human beings do, as it is the cold distance between us and the warm heart of God.

It is the condition of not dwelling within the personal knowledge of God’s grace and blessing. Within the arc of grace, we know ourselves and our world as beloved and holy, a place where we and all things are made to glorify and praise God. All creation is a gift for sharing.

Freedom appears in Jesus presence. The heart expands, no longer confined by its ordinary anxieties.

It is like standing on a hill and taking in a broad and beautiful landscape that enlarges your vision and allows you to breathe deeply. Hills rise and fall before your eyes, and your heart reaches out to take it in.

You feel as expansive and broad as the scene before you. Freedom fills you, and you are no longer hemmed in, held down by narrow vision and expectations. The constriction of anxiety about yourself, your performance, about tomorrow or the troubles of the day fade away.

You are in a gracious place where their power wanes, and you feel joy and gratitude that is naturally shared with whomever is near.

This is what it is like when the power of sin is taken away. This is what happens in the presence of Jesus--and in the presence of the community who truly knows him.

There are people who truly know Jesus and in whose presence we know the power of Jesus taking away the power of sin in our lives, which is why we hunger for their nearness.  It is also why I am drawn to small groups that gather to pray and talk, welcoming each others joys and sorrows.

They are sacraments of Jesus, a circle of Jesus presence that takes away the sin of the world, eliminating the separation from the heavenly Father, and coaxing us to enter our humanity once more in freedom and joy.

Pr. David L. Miller

Saturday, January 11, 2013

Today’s text

Matthew 3:13-17

Then Jesus appeared: he came from Galilee to the Jordan to be baptized by John. John tried to dissuade him, with the words, 'It is I who need baptism from you, and yet you come to me!' But Jesus replied, 'Leave it like this for the time being; it is fitting that we should, in this way, do all that uprightness demands.' Then John gave in to him. And when Jesus had been baptized he at once came up from the water, and suddenly the heavens opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming down on him. And suddenly there was a voice from heaven, 'This is my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on him.'

Reflection

Shortly after Christmas, I was sent a photo of the recent baptism of Autumn. At the end of baptisms, I routinely lift up the child baptized and invite the congregation to welcome this precious life with all the warmth and joy that is in us. On this day, someone captured this moment. 

As I lifted the child, the camera caught the instant when light from the sanctuary windows enveloped the little girl in a veil of light. 

Her eyes were wide open and fixed on me. I was smiling, as I am sure Autumn's family was smiling … the same way that God smiles on Jesus at his baptism and calls him ‘beloved,’ the one with whom he is well pleased.

This was a graced moment of joy, holding a tender child in the fullness of love and delight for a precious new life.

It is also how the heavenly Father sees Jesus.

I wonder where Jesus was looking at the moment of his baptism. Heavenward, perhaps. Where ever he was looking his heart was attuned to the heavenly father whose love enveloped him and filled his consciousness.

It was an identity moment, a moment when Jesus knew exactly who he was. He knew he was filled with the substance of God. He was filled with the joy and delight, the love and heart of the Source of the Universe.

It was an identity moment, too, for the precious life that I lifted that Sunday into the light of God’s grace, a moment when there is no doubt: This life is known and loved from the depth of the heart of God and always will be.

This is a life the Holy One treasures and will seek every day of her life. This is a life rapt in a love we shall never understand, a love that says not even death can snatch her from me.

“You are mine and I am yours,” Christ said on the day of her baptism… and on the day of your baptism.

You are the child, the man, the woman who is wanted and sought, treasured and held in the light of a love that refuses to let you go. Child of God, this is your identity. 

This is the identity Jesus came to shape so deeply in your mind and heart that you live everyday feeling the veil of God’s love enveloping your life, so that this light and love may be the face with which you meet ever moment of your days.

Powerful social forces and billions of dollars spent in our commercial culture tell us we are not acceptable unless we are thin enough, strong enough, fit enough, successful enough, rich enough, popular enough, beautiful enough, young enough, smart enough or hip enough.

But we do not know ourselves, our identities, until we see and feel ourselves as this little child baptized and held, surrounded by the light of God. We don’t get it until we hear the heavenly Father’s voice saying, “You are my child, the beloved.”

That voice is for Jesus and the mission he carried out revealing God’s kingdom and heart. But it is for you, too, for his mission is to bring you into the same relationship with the heavenly Father as he shared. 

As he knew himself as beloved of God, so are we to know ourselves as God’s beloved. As God used him to change the world, so are we to understand ourselves as beloved souls God will use to change the world.

This is your identity, the identity Jesus comes to give you.

You are God’s child, worthy of love and respect. God will use you to change the world.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, January 7, 2013

Today’s text

John 1:29-33

The next day, he saw Jesus coming towards him and said, 'Look, there is the lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world. t was of him that I said, "Behind me comes one who has passed ahead of me because he existed before me." I did not know him myself, and yet my purpose in coming to baptize with water was so that he might be revealed to Israel.' And John declared, 'I saw the Spirit come down on him like a dove from heaven and rest on him. I did not know him myself, but he who sent me to baptize with water had said to me, "The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and rest is the one who is to baptize with the Holy Spirit."

 Reflection

For years this baptism of the Holy Spirit was a mystery to me, and to some extent it always will be. In my mind, Pentecostal Christians had cornered the market on this language.

For them, this baptism looked like the Day of Pentecost, people speaking in different languages, exuberant displays of unexplainable supernatural gifts of healing and interpretation, highly emotional expressions of prayer and praise, fire and brimstone.

As a teen, my Illinois village had a storefront church for a short time. Sometimes I dropped in their mid-week prayer meeting where I was repeatedly told that if I didn’t speak in tongues or show some sign of baptism in the Spirit, “you will burn.” The fires of Hell were being stoked for people like me.

But Jesus didn’t speak in tongues. He certainly healed, but I don’t think this is the heart of what it means to be baptized in the Spirit, as Jesus was.

And it is a matter of heart.

We cannot know the secrets of Jesus’ inner life, but we do know he shared a deep and abiding intimacy with the heavenly Father. They abided together in his heart as one, a loving unity which was the source of Jesus compassion and wisdom, his peace and his power.

We know he retreated into solitude to savor this unity that likely required no words. The fact that his disciples asked to be taught a prayer probably means they had not--or only seldom-- heard him pray aloud.

Perhaps Jesus prayer was this quiet awareness of the Father’s abiding in his depths.

Baptism in the Spirit is immersion into this unity that Jesus shared with the heavenly father.

It is the gift of this deep and intense relationship of mutual love with the Father in which his heart transforms our hearts, so that his will and ours are one, a unity of loving and passionate purpose.

This is a gift not once given but is sought daily. We entered it again and again in open-hearted prayer and live it out in the mundane details of the day.

Pr. David L. Miller

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Today’s text

Matthew 2:1-3, 9-11

After Jesus had been born at Bethlehem in Judaea during the reign of King Herod, suddenly some wise men came to Jerusalem from the east asking, 'Where is the infant king of the Jews? We saw his star as it rose and have come to do him homage.' When King Herod hear this he was perturbed, and so was the whole of Jerusalem …Having listened to what the king had to say, they set out. And suddenly the star they had seen rising went forward and halted over the place where the child was. The sight of the star filled them with delight, and going into the house they saw the child with his mother Mary, and falling to their knees they did him homage. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh.

Reflection

Driving home from the office this week, I pulled into a snow-covered parking lot and stared into my phone. I’d received a text from a member asking for prayer. Family members were facing a daunting challenge, and they wanted to be able to do and say the right thing, the helpful thing, the loving thing. But ho could they do that amid tense and emotionally-taxing circumstances?

Sitting in the darkness, I took my phone and wrote a prayer on the little screen on which my clumsy fingers hit more wrong letters than not. I wrote:

God al all peace, sometimes the hurt is so great and our confusion so deep we do not know what to do or say or feel. Nor do we know what we should ask of you. But you know us, and you know our need. So we will ask only for your love and peace to abide in our hearts, trusting that you will never fail or abandon us to face our trials alone. For you are ever with us and your love will always find us, even when our souls tremble within. Be with us now, for you are our peace.

I sent the text, put the car in gear and drove out of the lot. Half block down the street, a wave of gratitude washed over me, lightness filled my being, and I prayed aloud as I drove, “Thank you that I know how to pray. Thank you that I know how to reach out for you. Thank you that I feel you in this heart of mine … and in those for whom I prayed.”

I was thankful that somehow, somewhere, someone taught me to pray … and that Christ had been born in me so that I felt his presence in my life and the lives of those who sought my prayers.

I thought back, too, asking, who taught me the language and attitude of prayer? My mother or father? My pastor when I was a boy? A couple of Sunday school teachers I remember? Or was it only later, in mid-life that I learned how to open my heart and pray from my depths, finding my way into Christ’s presence?

Frankly, I can’t remember who first taught me. Thinking back, I see there were many who taught and guided me, including some who rejected my faith altogether. Their questions moved me further along the way into a deep relationship with Jesus Christ. God’s Spirit used them all.

Unlike the three wise men who came seeking Jesus, you might say there were many stars in my firmament, not just one. Each one shined with the light of Christ’s holy love for me, pulling me along, into the relationship with him that now blesses me … and I hope you, too. 

They moved me to want to kneel at the feet of Jesus as they knelt before him and to offer my gifts as they offered theirs.

I have them to thank for a moment of rich blessing on a cold winter night.

Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, January 1, 2013

Today’s text

Matthew 2:1-3, 9-11

After Jesus had been born at Bethlehem in Judaea during the reign of King Herod, suddenly some wise men came to Jerusalem from the east asking, 'Where is the infant king of the Jews? We saw his star as it rose and have come to do him homage.' When King Herod hear this he was perturbed, and so was the whole of Jerusalem …Having listened to what the king had to say, they set out. And suddenly the star they had seen rising went forward and halted over the place where the child was. The sight of the star filled them with delight, and going into the house they saw the child with his mother Mary, and falling to their knees they did him homage. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh.

Reflection

At the dawn of this new year, the contrast is striking. Wise men come from the east, filled with delight at the appearance of a star. Herod, the king, is unsettled and angry, upsetting all Jerusalem.

Herod was determined to maintain his death grip on the power, position and privileges past years and his brutalities had secured. He would gladly kill that which the star heralded. Little wonder all Jerusalem trembled.

The wise men traveled into the unknown of a new day, hearts open to receive what gift or surprise, what joy or challenge might lie in the straw of a manger.

Had they wanted the future to be just like the past they would have stayed home. But their hearts were open to the promise that bright stars portend. So they followed.

They are patron saints of January 1.

Open your hearts and follow the light of Holy Presence in your life, they seem to say. It will lead you on unlikely journeys to unknown places and people who will bless you in surprising ways.”

You will cry tears of joy, sorrow and longing. You will feel more love and hope than you ever thought possible.

The pain of the world and its suffering will strike your heart, but you will know that even this rests in the hands of the healing love that shines from that star--and in every human soul who dares to follow its light.

Your heart will find its home, and you will become more human than ever before.

So release the past and look for the star every day of this new year. Its light is there, so keep your eyes open. You will see it in smiles and grace, in good times and bad, in set backs and success.

The stars, bearers of Christ’s holy light, shine--somehow, some way--in every place and circumstance, piercing the darkness and inviting you to let he who is Love grow and change you into the holy light you are yet to be.

It's New Year's Day, so let hope burn warm and bright. Love shines in every star of your life. Follow its light where ever it goes. It is leading you home.

 

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Today’s text

Matthew 2:1-6, 9-11

After Jesus had been born at Bethlehem in Judaea during the reign of King Herod, suddenly some wise men came to Jerusalem from the east asking, 'Where is the infant king of the Jews? We saw his star as it rose and have come to do him homage.' …Having listened to what the king had to say, they set out. And suddenly the star they had seen rising went forward and halted over the place where the child was. The sight of the star filled them with delight, and going into the house they saw the child with his mother Mary, and falling to their knees they did him homage. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh.

Reflection

I wish I had been with the wise men. I wish I had followed that star. I wish I had traveled long days beside them and felt what was in their hearts--the uncertainty and longing, the hope and the anticipation of the unknown.

 I would have joined them in their blessed and holy search to witness this unique moment of time when heaven laid in a manger.

Walking with them into the humble stable, I would have knelt beside them and kissed the dirt at the place where the favor of God stooped to touch the crying needs of human hearts.

To kneel before the child would have brought the greatest joy and treasure of all, far greater than any treasures the wise men carried on their journey in search of heaven’s face.

For there, kneeling in the dirt, I would know the soul of the universe and the truest desire of my soul to dwell in the presence of the One who is all beauty and wonder, all love and peace.

But the ecstasy of this moment of splendid knowing is not so far away in time or space. I have knelt before him many times and places, at elaborate gilt altars and in thatched churches under crystal blue skies where grace found me.

In days of traveling far from home, I knelt in the dust of foreign lands and literally kissed the ground of places where the Christ became more real to me than ever before because of the loving struggle of peoples to live and give life amid immense tragedy and hatred.

There are those near at hand at whose feet I would kneel because of the presence of Christ so clearly in them, but they would think it odd to be so honored.

I kneel, too, some days in this holy place lit by a candle before putting my hands on these keys.

It is my Bethlehem, holy ground where heaven and earth meet. On precious days, like today, the Soul of the Universe chooses to be laid in the straw of my words that I might see and feel him … and be made alive.

It is then that I know the hearts of the wise men who followed the star. But I also know that I suffer no loss because 20 centuries separate me from their journey.

For the manger is not far away, nor is it long ago. The place of kneeling in joy before the Christ is close at hand.

The Holy One, the face of heaven, lies in the flesh of those who receive and love him. Our flesh and these poor words are the straw in which he lies. We are the manger; he is the treasure.

No words can express sufficient gratitude for this blessing

Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, December 30, 2013

 Today’s text

John 1:9-10

The Word was the real light that gives light to everyone; he was coming into the world. He was in the world that had come into being through him, and the world did not recognize him.

Reflection

All true spiritual knowledge is re-cognition, seeing and knowing what is already deep within us, around us, what we might have suspected and felt to be real and true but could not quite name.

Two people meet. They talk. They find friendship or even love, and in the process they see, feel and just know something of themselves in the other person, something that fits, a missing part of themselves in the other.

Something just fits and brings completion.

This feels rather abstract, but it is as real as everyday encounters and as powerful as the love that draws and keeps two souls together in friendship, love and life.

It is also the dynamic between us and Christ.

All that is shares in his life. Every created thing bears the being of Christ. Our life is an expression of his life.
Just so, our being finds completion and peace as we share unity with him. He is the missing of our own being, which our souls might well recognize because he is in us and we are a part of him.

Sin, selfishness, deep wounds and fears blind so that we fail to see Christ as our true nature, as the missing piece, the unrecognized truth of our souls. They prevent us from recognizing ourselves as expressions of his being.

But when Christ appears to us in his word or another human life, when we hear and feel his truth authentically presented, our souls are drawn toward unity with him for he is our Source.

The depth of our souls know: His heart is the secret of our own deep heart, the truth of our being. Uniting with him in love feels like coming home and knowing yourself, recognizing that he was there in and with you … all along.

Pr. David L. Miller

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Today’s text

Luke 2:16-20

So the shepherds hurried away and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the manger. When they saw the child they repeated what they had been told about him, and everyone who heard it was astonished at what the shepherds said to them. As for Mary, she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart. And the shepherds went back glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as they had been told.

Reflection

The sweetest praise and joy comes from a Source beyond and within us. It is spontaneous, a gift. It washes over and fills the heart when you are least looking for it.

Riding in the car, looking out the window, the sun illumines a field of snow. Corn stalks protrude through the gentle white blanket, shimmering silver in sunlight, reaching to a fence line a hundred acres west.

A cloudless sky, crystal blue, stretches from one horizon to the other, a dome of wintry peace over this little patch of earth.

My mind and heart rest, no thoughts great or small when unsummoned emotion rises from a place within me that I cannot touch or command, a surge of gratitude and joy for this unrepeatable moment.

Of its own accord, my mouth forms two simple words, “thank you.” The words, barely a whisper, are totally inadequate and absolutely unnecessary. They cannot speak the joy of this moment, the beauty and grace of just being alive.

But it doesn’t matter. The Heart who creates such moments from all eternity knows … . This One knows what is in my heart at this moment. Of that I am as certain as I am of my own existence.

For the heart I feel within is the Great Heart who seduces me in moments of greatest beauty and joy.

So, once more, thank you, for this life, this love, this grace.

And although they feel utterly inadequate, the words matter. I need to speak them even as I need to write them now.

We can will ourselves to praise God. We can make ourselves do it, meditating on God’s beauty and glory, grace and blessings that have come to us, and give simple thanks.

But the sweetest joy and praise is total gift. It comes when the heart is overwhelmed with beauty and grace, with love and hope.

Looking out the car window, carried on a wave of gratitude, I know how the shepherds felt as they departed the stable after seeing the infant Jesus. I know why they had to speak what was in their hearts.

They had seen and held the grace that holds us all. And when the heart is full, it must speak.

So glory to you, Holy One, and highest praise, for the favor that shines in your son’s blessed face and in every graced moment of living.

Pr. David L. Miller