Saturday, June 30, 2018

Saturday, June 30, 2018


John 11:32-37

When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’ When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, ‘See how he loved him!’ But some of them said, ‘Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?’

Why I believe

The way to understand Jesus’ divinity, his God-ness, is through the depth of his humanity, which is fully on display in these words. He comes, he sees the sorrow of people he loves and he stands at the tomb of a friend … and weeps.

I love Jesus for this. I don’t love Jesus for his power. I don’t love him because he did wondrous things, like raising his friend, Lazarus, from death.

I love him for his tears … for being profoundly human, for sharing human vulnerability and sorrow. 

Here I know: I am not alone. None of us are. This Love that he is … stands with us, mourning the destruction of life and beauty, aching for restoration.

The humanity of God glistens in his tears, revealing the depth of divine love.

In Jesus’ heart, there is a Voice who speaks, “This should not be! Life must not be reduced to dust. Beauty and joy, color and laughter must prevail, for that is my will, my hope, my dream.”

This is God’s voice, the Loving Spirit who filled Jesus from first to last through his life. Healing and hope begins here.

Our hope for new life each and every day, our hope for final resurrection begin in the wounded heart of God that refuses to be content with anything less than life, life healed, life restored, life raised from every death that lays us low.

Jesus invites us to the privilege of knowing God through his tears that we may know we are loved beyond all imagination by the One whose heart refuses to let us go.

Pr. David L. Miller


Monday, June 25, 2018

Monday, June 25, 2018


Mark 1:14-15

Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’ 

Today

Do you know what kind of world this is? Can you believe that today is extraordinary? Can you go beyond the mind you have and truly see the wonder into which you woke this morning?

Despite the bitter divides of the political realm, despite the dying and struggling that goes on in every land, place and family, despite the injustice and denial of mercy that wounds millions ... even helpless children longing for shelter, this is a world in which the kingdom of God is present.

Many things seem to contradict such faith, but the energy of God’s love is here and now.

You see and feel it in every act of grace, every small mercy and every impulse to care and love. You know it every moment your heart with gratitude yearns to cry aloud, “thank you!” Thank you for the sacred gift of life that animates our bodies and for every glimpse of light and color that delights our senses.

The anger and bitterness that poisons so much of our public and political life fixates our minds on the ugliness of the times, poisoning our souls, hardening our hearts.

From this Jesus graciously calls us to repent, that is to go beyond your present mind to a new mind, a new way of seeing, a way that must be re-claimed each new day. Look beyond what divides. Look beyond the bitterness of the news. Look beyond all that fixates the mind on what is small, petty and divisive.

Look into your own heart and see the hunger for love and beauty. Look at the beauty of flower and hear the laughter of children when they are really being children, unperturbed by all that preoccupies their elders. Look and see where beauty lies and what is graceful and good. Look and see.

You live in a world where the kingdom of God, the living presence of the Love, is alive and well. Look and see. Believe the good news.

Pr. David L. Miller