Today’s text
Matthew 14:15-21
When evening came, the disciples went to him and said, 'This is a lonely place, and time has slipped by; so send the people away, and they can go to the villages to buy themselves some food.' Jesus replied, 'There is no need for them to go: give them something to eat yourselves.' But they answered, 'All we have with us is five loaves and two fish.' So he said, 'Bring them here to me.' He gave orders that the people were to sit down on the grass; then he took the five loaves and the two fish, raised his eyes to heaven and said the blessing. And breaking the loaves he handed them to his disciples, who gave them to the crowds. They all ate as much as they wanted, and they collected the scraps left over, twelve baskets full. Now about five thousand men had eaten, to say nothing of women and children.
Prayer
You gave the bread and fish to your companions. The bread is in our hands, Jesus. You give us the substance of your life to be shared with those who hunger.
We hunger, Jesus. We are the hungry crowd and the hands who distribute your fullness. Both. At once. And we never cease to hunger for very long. We never stop wanting and needing to be fed. We receive your life and love only to grow empty and hollow at heart again.
We need those with eager hands who can give us the substance of your life that the vitality of your joyous freedom and abundance may fill us. Filled and lifted into life, you make our hands eager to share the bounty we find in you. And then we hunger again and await your great giving.
We live in a great circle of hunger, sharing and life that continues for us as long as we draw breath. And it all starts and ends in you. It begins in the splendid abundance of your divine generosity. It ends, finally, in the fullness of life when we will hunger no more.
But for now, never let us forget our state. We have no life in ourselves without you. Apart from your nearness joy and vitality quickly fade. We hunger and we need. We receive and we share. That is how the circle works. So let us never deny our need or the hands and places that feed us.
It is blessed way you make for us, Jesus. For even our crying and wants and needs are holy. They lead us to you. Blessed is the want, holy the hunger that drags me home.
Pr. David L. Miller
http://prayingthemystery.blogspot.com/
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Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Today’s text
Matthew 14:15-21
When evening came, the disciples went to him and said, 'This is a lonely place, and time has slipped by; so send the people away, and they can go to the villages to buy themselves some food.' Jesus replied, 'There is no need for them to go: give them something to eat yourselves.' But they answered, 'All we have with us is five loaves and two fish.' So he said, 'Bring them here to me.' He gave orders that the people were to sit down on the grass; then he took the five loaves and the two fish, raised his eyes to heaven and said the blessing. And breaking the loaves he handed them to his disciples, who gave them to the crowds. They all ate as much as they wanted, and they collected the scraps left over, twelve baskets full. Now about five thousand men had eaten, to say nothing of women and children.
Prayer
‘Bring them to me.’ Are there any more gracious words you might say to us, Jesus? I know of none.
But I want to bring you not bread or fish, but me. I bring myself to you. Do what you will with what I am and have.
I see your hands as you receive the bread, the fish. Dust folds into the creases of your palms. Calluses cracked and brown frame your fingers. These are hands that have been outdoors most of your years, far from Mary’s watchful eye.
There is no hurry in you as you receive the gifts; no anxiety possesses or consumes your heart. There is time for grace and gratitude, reverence and love for the gifts of earth that lie gentle in your open hands, hands that know how to receive without grasping.
Looking to heaven, you bless bread, yes. But you bless God more, for the rich goodness of earth and the secret intimacy at your depths which you are soon to reveal.
How can I not love you? You are a portrait of the Holy Mystery that lies hidden also in my soul. It waits for you to bless me and release the beauty of the loving grace I see as I watch you.
So I deliver myself into your hands in obedience to your command, ‘Bring them to me.’ Receive and bless me with grace and gratitude, reverence and love, then hand me to the world that your beloved may eat.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 14:15-21
When evening came, the disciples went to him and said, 'This is a lonely place, and time has slipped by; so send the people away, and they can go to the villages to buy themselves some food.' Jesus replied, 'There is no need for them to go: give them something to eat yourselves.' But they answered, 'All we have with us is five loaves and two fish.' So he said, 'Bring them here to me.' He gave orders that the people were to sit down on the grass; then he took the five loaves and the two fish, raised his eyes to heaven and said the blessing. And breaking the loaves he handed them to his disciples, who gave them to the crowds. They all ate as much as they wanted, and they collected the scraps left over, twelve baskets full. Now about five thousand men had eaten, to say nothing of women and children.
Prayer
‘Bring them to me.’ Are there any more gracious words you might say to us, Jesus? I know of none.
But I want to bring you not bread or fish, but me. I bring myself to you. Do what you will with what I am and have.
I see your hands as you receive the bread, the fish. Dust folds into the creases of your palms. Calluses cracked and brown frame your fingers. These are hands that have been outdoors most of your years, far from Mary’s watchful eye.
There is no hurry in you as you receive the gifts; no anxiety possesses or consumes your heart. There is time for grace and gratitude, reverence and love for the gifts of earth that lie gentle in your open hands, hands that know how to receive without grasping.
Looking to heaven, you bless bread, yes. But you bless God more, for the rich goodness of earth and the secret intimacy at your depths which you are soon to reveal.
How can I not love you? You are a portrait of the Holy Mystery that lies hidden also in my soul. It waits for you to bless me and release the beauty of the loving grace I see as I watch you.
So I deliver myself into your hands in obedience to your command, ‘Bring them to me.’ Receive and bless me with grace and gratitude, reverence and love, then hand me to the world that your beloved may eat.
Pr. David L. Miller
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Today’s text
Matthew 14:15-17
When evening came, the disciples went to him and said, 'This is a lonely place, and time has slipped by; so send the people away, and they can go to the villages to buy themselves some food.' Jesus replied, 'There is no need for them to go: give them something to eat yourselves.' But they answered, 'All we have with us is five loaves and two fish.'
Prayer
‘All’ the word rings in my mind from too many speakings.
So it is, my Brother, we are possessed by our insufficiency. All I have is … . The message is clear. I haven’t enough. It is too little, too small, too weak to do what is needed.
The words mirror our souls. We spend our days looking at ourselves, reinforcing our fears. And our fears intensify our focus on our smallness. It is all a self-reinforcing circle.
If only we looked first to you, Jesus, we would see the lavishness of your love and break free from the circle of our anxieties. Our hearts would no longer be possessed by our insufficiency. Instead, we’d ask, ‘What would you have us do with the gifts you have put in our hands? Where will your unbounded love take us? What does it move us to be and to do?
You call us far beyond, ‘All we have … ’ to ‘this you have given; … what now?’
That question leads to adventures of which we can’t see the ending. Except we trust and know: It all ends in you, in the love you are.
So free us from our insufficiency. Set our eyes on the all-sufficiency of a love that possesses our every moment.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 14:15-17
When evening came, the disciples went to him and said, 'This is a lonely place, and time has slipped by; so send the people away, and they can go to the villages to buy themselves some food.' Jesus replied, 'There is no need for them to go: give them something to eat yourselves.' But they answered, 'All we have with us is five loaves and two fish.'
Prayer
‘All’ the word rings in my mind from too many speakings.
So it is, my Brother, we are possessed by our insufficiency. All I have is … . The message is clear. I haven’t enough. It is too little, too small, too weak to do what is needed.
The words mirror our souls. We spend our days looking at ourselves, reinforcing our fears. And our fears intensify our focus on our smallness. It is all a self-reinforcing circle.
If only we looked first to you, Jesus, we would see the lavishness of your love and break free from the circle of our anxieties. Our hearts would no longer be possessed by our insufficiency. Instead, we’d ask, ‘What would you have us do with the gifts you have put in our hands? Where will your unbounded love take us? What does it move us to be and to do?
You call us far beyond, ‘All we have … ’ to ‘this you have given; … what now?’
That question leads to adventures of which we can’t see the ending. Except we trust and know: It all ends in you, in the love you are.
So free us from our insufficiency. Set our eyes on the all-sufficiency of a love that possesses our every moment.
Pr. David L. Miller
Monday, July 28, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Today’s text
Matthew 14:13-14
When Jesus received this news he withdrew by boat to a lonely place where they could be by themselves. But the crowds heard of this and, leaving the towns, went after him on foot. So as he stepped ashore he saw a large crowd; and he took pity on them and healed their sick.
Prayer
A mystery rests in our souls, Jesus. No, the mystery is our soul. It is the mystery of desire, of wanting.
We are fashioned around a center of burning want that no act of will or discipline can escape or deny. We are our want.
That is how the Loving Mystery created us. You made us to want, and our desire is the most beautiful thing about us. It is also the most ugly and frightening when it turns from its intended object.
Our inescapable inborn desire insists on relationship and nurture from our mothers when we are infants. It moves us to crave the human nearness that provides protection of body and spirit. Desire drags us from isolation into the lives, hearts and arms of others so that we may be truly human.
Want also moves us to you, Jesus. There are a several reasons why a first century crowd in Palestine might have sought you: curiosity, fear of the diseases that haunted their families, hunger, anger at the political forces that oppressed them.
But beneath and preceding all such historical reasons is this desire, this want for more that moves us to seek that which satisfies the heart, gives it rest and fulfills its purpose. We didn’t create this craving. You did. We cannot slake this desire. You can.
So we come to you as did the crowds: wanting. Seldom can we give a name to our desire. We only know that we need you. So we come. Let us know you that our hearts may find healing and home.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 14:13-14
When Jesus received this news he withdrew by boat to a lonely place where they could be by themselves. But the crowds heard of this and, leaving the towns, went after him on foot. So as he stepped ashore he saw a large crowd; and he took pity on them and healed their sick.
Prayer
A mystery rests in our souls, Jesus. No, the mystery is our soul. It is the mystery of desire, of wanting.
We are fashioned around a center of burning want that no act of will or discipline can escape or deny. We are our want.
That is how the Loving Mystery created us. You made us to want, and our desire is the most beautiful thing about us. It is also the most ugly and frightening when it turns from its intended object.
Our inescapable inborn desire insists on relationship and nurture from our mothers when we are infants. It moves us to crave the human nearness that provides protection of body and spirit. Desire drags us from isolation into the lives, hearts and arms of others so that we may be truly human.
Want also moves us to you, Jesus. There are a several reasons why a first century crowd in Palestine might have sought you: curiosity, fear of the diseases that haunted their families, hunger, anger at the political forces that oppressed them.
But beneath and preceding all such historical reasons is this desire, this want for more that moves us to seek that which satisfies the heart, gives it rest and fulfills its purpose. We didn’t create this craving. You did. We cannot slake this desire. You can.
So we come to you as did the crowds: wanting. Seldom can we give a name to our desire. We only know that we need you. So we come. Let us know you that our hearts may find healing and home.
Pr. David L. Miller
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