Today’s reading
1 John 1:5-7
“This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not live according to the truth; but if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of his Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:5-7).
Prayer
You are light. And today it is easy to believe in the fellowship of the light. Today, you lift me into the lightness of being and joy by the luminosity of your presence that glows and elevates my heart to heights of knowing you--and knowing you are love and intend me for the love you are.
The heaviness of recent days is gone, evaporated like so much morning mist in the radiance of your abiding. This time transformation happens in fellowship with companions who love and hope for the same things I do, which is to say, for you. They open their hearts and mouths, and I no longer hear them. I hear you, and again I know that I am not alone.
You keep telling me that, and I keep closing myself within the walls of my thoughts and meager resources until I am overwhelmed by the challenges of life you never intended me to face alone. You never intended any of us to face the day alone, to enter alone the dark night of our sorrows or despair unaccompanied by you, who are light.
Truly, you have made us for yourself. And you shine through the dark corridors of centuries and souls, lifting the lives of billions into the lightness of joy that comes only in the fellowship of the light.
Your brilliance glistens in all in which you are pleased to dwell. And it is your delight that we find the sound of your joy in the laughter of souls with whom we share the fellowship of the light, joined in a common heart, sharing a common hope, alight with radiance not our own.
Thank you for affording me the privilege of sharing fellowship in you who are light; may it be your pleasure that I should bask in and be the light you are. Amen.
--Pastor David L. Miller
http://prayingthemystery.blogspot.com/
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Friday, February 16, 2007
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Today’s reading
1 John 1:5-7
“This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not live according to the truth; but if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of his Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:5-7).
Prayer
You are light, not merely light’s source, but light itself. How can I understand this? I stand beneath a cobalt winter sky, cloudless and cold. The blinding sun of mid-morning burns crystal white on a sea of snow coating the earth and freezing clumps of wet hair beneath my cap as I shovel, sweat and freeze all at once. I look at my boots, at the dull gray shovel in gloved hands, my head down lest I be blinded an intensity for which human eyes are not intended.
You are light. No more can I look into your face than I can face the sun. Yet, as I know the sun on my back, its wan winter weakness notwithstanding, I know you as the power of life, the light of being in all that is. The blinding sun of glistening winter mornings is your art, but did you have to make it so cold?
Without light Earth grows cold and the green shoots of spring never appear. Without you nothing ex-ists; life remains only a ambiguous possibility, for you are the light that shines in all that has life, all that is has being only because it shares in you who are Being Itself.
Light brings life, warmth, illumination, growth, freedom to move about and to see, to be, to live. To say you are light is to say you are life, power, wonder and joy. Yes, you are the joy of what tiny goodness moves me and my machine to my neighbor’s driveway. And though muscles ache, the soul soars, laughter fills my lungs and a shout of (could it be?) joy and determination throws me and my snow blower into the next snowy expanse.
Could it be that this joy is your light alight within me, and that I, too, am your art, the shining sculpture of you who are Light Itself? I think so, but I cannot see. The light is too much for me. Amen.
--Pr. David L. Miller
1 John 1:5-7
“This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not live according to the truth; but if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of his Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:5-7).
Prayer
You are light, not merely light’s source, but light itself. How can I understand this? I stand beneath a cobalt winter sky, cloudless and cold. The blinding sun of mid-morning burns crystal white on a sea of snow coating the earth and freezing clumps of wet hair beneath my cap as I shovel, sweat and freeze all at once. I look at my boots, at the dull gray shovel in gloved hands, my head down lest I be blinded an intensity for which human eyes are not intended.
You are light. No more can I look into your face than I can face the sun. Yet, as I know the sun on my back, its wan winter weakness notwithstanding, I know you as the power of life, the light of being in all that is. The blinding sun of glistening winter mornings is your art, but did you have to make it so cold?
Without light Earth grows cold and the green shoots of spring never appear. Without you nothing ex-ists; life remains only a ambiguous possibility, for you are the light that shines in all that has life, all that is has being only because it shares in you who are Being Itself.
Light brings life, warmth, illumination, growth, freedom to move about and to see, to be, to live. To say you are light is to say you are life, power, wonder and joy. Yes, you are the joy of what tiny goodness moves me and my machine to my neighbor’s driveway. And though muscles ache, the soul soars, laughter fills my lungs and a shout of (could it be?) joy and determination throws me and my snow blower into the next snowy expanse.
Could it be that this joy is your light alight within me, and that I, too, am your art, the shining sculpture of you who are Light Itself? I think so, but I cannot see. The light is too much for me. Amen.
--Pr. David L. Miller
Monday, February 12, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
Today’s reading
1 John 1:5-7
“This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not live according to the truth; but if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of his Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:5-7).
Prayer
You are light. But my busy soul is stuck in darkness, refusing the loving fellowship you offer. Anxiety grips the heart amid commitments that appeared so reasonable when first made. We look at our meager store of time and resources and wonder: How is it possible to live and breathe deeply the sweet air of life when our bodies scramble to fulfill our promises?
Is this really life in your light? Is this mad scramble what you intend for us? Surely you desire that we find and surrender heart, mind and body to creative labor that reveals your eternal life and love for a world you so love.
But darkness often grips our souls, anxieties, fears, self-doubts, conflicts with self and others, doubts about your nearness and our worthiness. All this and more drags our hearts into the dark prison of self where there appears no way out beyond our feverish and futile labors. Our cramped souls find no room for one more person, one more need, one more request—or for you. The fullness of our days crowds out possibilities for fellowship with your divine light with those among whom you have placed us.
Still, You are the light of all, and our darkness cannot shut you out. The illumination of your light seeks out dusty corners of our souls. Our hunger for More reveals again that we are created for more than the mad rush. What is this desire if not the light or your presence calling us to the eternal life and love for which you intend us?
You are light, and all that is light, every experience and face that illumines our way, shines with your glory. Break into our crammed lives this day. Shine on us and in our midst. Draw us into the fellowship of beloved where the light of your love illumines our darkness and lifts us beyond our fears. Amen.
--Pastor David L. Miller
1 John 1:5-7
“This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not live according to the truth; but if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of his Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:5-7).
Prayer
You are light. But my busy soul is stuck in darkness, refusing the loving fellowship you offer. Anxiety grips the heart amid commitments that appeared so reasonable when first made. We look at our meager store of time and resources and wonder: How is it possible to live and breathe deeply the sweet air of life when our bodies scramble to fulfill our promises?
Is this really life in your light? Is this mad scramble what you intend for us? Surely you desire that we find and surrender heart, mind and body to creative labor that reveals your eternal life and love for a world you so love.
But darkness often grips our souls, anxieties, fears, self-doubts, conflicts with self and others, doubts about your nearness and our worthiness. All this and more drags our hearts into the dark prison of self where there appears no way out beyond our feverish and futile labors. Our cramped souls find no room for one more person, one more need, one more request—or for you. The fullness of our days crowds out possibilities for fellowship with your divine light with those among whom you have placed us.
Still, You are the light of all, and our darkness cannot shut you out. The illumination of your light seeks out dusty corners of our souls. Our hunger for More reveals again that we are created for more than the mad rush. What is this desire if not the light or your presence calling us to the eternal life and love for which you intend us?
You are light, and all that is light, every experience and face that illumines our way, shines with your glory. Break into our crammed lives this day. Shine on us and in our midst. Draw us into the fellowship of beloved where the light of your love illumines our darkness and lifts us beyond our fears. Amen.
--Pastor David L. Miller
Friday, February 09, 2007
Friday, February 9, 2007
Today’s reading
1 John 1:1-4
“We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands concerning the word of life—this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us. We declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and his son Jesus Christ. We are writing this that our joy may be complete” (1 John 1:1-4).
Prayer
What was from the beginning, this we have seen and touched. Where, dearest One? Where do we touch you? Where do we cradle your flesh? Where do we embrace you, or are we more likely to strike or ignore you, however unknowingly?
The idea that mortal hands should touch Eternity exceeds imagination and awakens disbelief. You, the Unnamable Wonder, the Dark Space before whom I wordlessly stand seeking the wisdom of silence: I touch you?
Yet, each day I touch the flesh and lives of human souls, each bearing a mystery they cannot begin to speak, the mystery of being itself. I cradle my grandsons (all too infrequently) always throttled, unable to speak the wonder and beauty of their lives, the miracle of life itself, which you privilege me to hold in my startled hands.
Holding them, or receiving the welcoming embraces of those among whom you have placed me, I wonder: Do I there touch you, the power of Being Itself, incarnate and constantly seeking fullest expression in their lives? As you incarnated your life in fullest human beauty in my brother Jesus, do you do the same here among us so that when we extend our hands to each other we welcome eternity?
If so, then I touch you daily. And our lives, times and places are holy space where you are present, touchable, knowable in what you continue to create as your love seeks and finds expression in the frail fallibility of human flesh, in me, in all I will touch this day.
Help me to see and know you this day. Awaken my senses and soul to you, who are from the beginning and right here, right now. And this you do, that we know the power of your life, the light of your love, the joy or your companionship. Amen.
--Pastor David L. Miller
1 John 1:1-4
“We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands concerning the word of life—this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us. We declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and his son Jesus Christ. We are writing this that our joy may be complete” (1 John 1:1-4).
Prayer
What was from the beginning, this we have seen and touched. Where, dearest One? Where do we touch you? Where do we cradle your flesh? Where do we embrace you, or are we more likely to strike or ignore you, however unknowingly?
The idea that mortal hands should touch Eternity exceeds imagination and awakens disbelief. You, the Unnamable Wonder, the Dark Space before whom I wordlessly stand seeking the wisdom of silence: I touch you?
Yet, each day I touch the flesh and lives of human souls, each bearing a mystery they cannot begin to speak, the mystery of being itself. I cradle my grandsons (all too infrequently) always throttled, unable to speak the wonder and beauty of their lives, the miracle of life itself, which you privilege me to hold in my startled hands.
Holding them, or receiving the welcoming embraces of those among whom you have placed me, I wonder: Do I there touch you, the power of Being Itself, incarnate and constantly seeking fullest expression in their lives? As you incarnated your life in fullest human beauty in my brother Jesus, do you do the same here among us so that when we extend our hands to each other we welcome eternity?
If so, then I touch you daily. And our lives, times and places are holy space where you are present, touchable, knowable in what you continue to create as your love seeks and finds expression in the frail fallibility of human flesh, in me, in all I will touch this day.
Help me to see and know you this day. Awaken my senses and soul to you, who are from the beginning and right here, right now. And this you do, that we know the power of your life, the light of your love, the joy or your companionship. Amen.
--Pastor David L. Miller
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Today’s reading
1 John 1:1-4
“We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands concerning the word of life—this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us. We declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and his son Jesus Christ. We are writing this that our joy may be complete” (1 John 1:1-4).
Prayer
Timeless Mercy, we are more connected with you than we can know. Our joy, our delight, the completion of our lives—your life and ours—are not two things but one. Your own divine life is not fulfilled unless the joy for which we are created overflows our souls, even as your heart bubbles over and flows in a living stream of life and love through all creation.
You tie the completion of your divine life to us, to me. And you dwell in holy unrest until the fullness of life and joy you intend fills and lifts me to the fullness of life that is your joy to share. Failing this, neither you nor I know the completeness that is you divine desire and intention for all that is.
You live dangerously, my Lord, my Friend, for in loving me, you need me, even as I need you. Yet, again and again I flee the joy of fellowship with you and yours, pouring my anxious heart into the crush of daily duties and myriad detail in which I lose myself, my heart—and you. My words lose weight and wisdom. I grow soulless, restless, joyless.
And I hunger for what you love to give—the eternal splendor of your own life. That hunger haunts me today. But even this dis-ease is gift and joy. I name the hunger and a strange thing happens. The tattered fellowship between us suddenly grows rich and full, as if the hunger in my depths is not my yearning but your divine life, pulsing at that unsearchable point where you heart and mine are not two, but one.
This oneness, this sharing of life is my highest joy, the secret hiding behind my smile. In fellowship with you, I am alive in a way I am nowhere else. Thank you. Let me live with you today so that our joy may be complete. Amen.
--Pastor David L. Miller
1 John 1:1-4
“We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands concerning the word of life—this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us. We declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and his son Jesus Christ. We are writing this that our joy may be complete” (1 John 1:1-4).
Prayer
Timeless Mercy, we are more connected with you than we can know. Our joy, our delight, the completion of our lives—your life and ours—are not two things but one. Your own divine life is not fulfilled unless the joy for which we are created overflows our souls, even as your heart bubbles over and flows in a living stream of life and love through all creation.
You tie the completion of your divine life to us, to me. And you dwell in holy unrest until the fullness of life and joy you intend fills and lifts me to the fullness of life that is your joy to share. Failing this, neither you nor I know the completeness that is you divine desire and intention for all that is.
You live dangerously, my Lord, my Friend, for in loving me, you need me, even as I need you. Yet, again and again I flee the joy of fellowship with you and yours, pouring my anxious heart into the crush of daily duties and myriad detail in which I lose myself, my heart—and you. My words lose weight and wisdom. I grow soulless, restless, joyless.
And I hunger for what you love to give—the eternal splendor of your own life. That hunger haunts me today. But even this dis-ease is gift and joy. I name the hunger and a strange thing happens. The tattered fellowship between us suddenly grows rich and full, as if the hunger in my depths is not my yearning but your divine life, pulsing at that unsearchable point where you heart and mine are not two, but one.
This oneness, this sharing of life is my highest joy, the secret hiding behind my smile. In fellowship with you, I am alive in a way I am nowhere else. Thank you. Let me live with you today so that our joy may be complete. Amen.
--Pastor David L. Miller
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Today’s reading
1 John 1:1-4
“We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands concerning the world of life—this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us. We declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and his son Jesus Christ” (1 John 1:1-3).
Prayer
Dearest One, whatever else I may know today, let me know you. Allow me the privilege of fellowship with you who are the overflowing fountain of eternal life and boundless love.
The fellowship you offer is in our hands and hearts, tangible and visible. We touch and hear your eternal life. We feel you coursing our souls, moving us to hope and to love, to give and to be given to you and all you love.
I know the life you are in words preached and spoken, in sacraments of meager bread filling up empty hands and my heart with a joy and love uncrushed even by busiest days and bouts of melancholy. I know you in faces appearing at my door no matter how banal or common their need or request. In them I see your desire to enter this world deeply and without reservation, to bathe yourself in its pathos and struggle to live and to laugh. It is a desire beyond their own, and I wonder if they know they Wonder they bear.
The eternal life you are rushes through my veins and arteries filling me with your divine longing to give this love that bubbles from source unsearchable in the darkness of my depths. You awaken desires to bathe in and become this love in which I know myself more fully alive than I am anywhere else.
Tell me, is this fellowship with you? If so, I want nothing else. So give me, give us this day such fellowship with you. Release in us the energy of eternity that the environments of our lives may fill with you, the bubbling fountain eternal life and joy. Amen.
--Pastor David L. Miller
1 John 1:1-4
“We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands concerning the world of life—this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us. We declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and his son Jesus Christ” (1 John 1:1-3).
Prayer
Dearest One, whatever else I may know today, let me know you. Allow me the privilege of fellowship with you who are the overflowing fountain of eternal life and boundless love.
The fellowship you offer is in our hands and hearts, tangible and visible. We touch and hear your eternal life. We feel you coursing our souls, moving us to hope and to love, to give and to be given to you and all you love.
I know the life you are in words preached and spoken, in sacraments of meager bread filling up empty hands and my heart with a joy and love uncrushed even by busiest days and bouts of melancholy. I know you in faces appearing at my door no matter how banal or common their need or request. In them I see your desire to enter this world deeply and without reservation, to bathe yourself in its pathos and struggle to live and to laugh. It is a desire beyond their own, and I wonder if they know they Wonder they bear.
The eternal life you are rushes through my veins and arteries filling me with your divine longing to give this love that bubbles from source unsearchable in the darkness of my depths. You awaken desires to bathe in and become this love in which I know myself more fully alive than I am anywhere else.
Tell me, is this fellowship with you? If so, I want nothing else. So give me, give us this day such fellowship with you. Release in us the energy of eternity that the environments of our lives may fill with you, the bubbling fountain eternal life and joy. Amen.
--Pastor David L. Miller
Monday, February 05, 2007
Monday, February 5, 2007
Today’s reading
1 John 1:1-4
“We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands concerning the world of life—this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was reveed to us” (1 John 1:1-2).
Prayer
Who are you, my beloved? I know the writer’s desire to speak, to testify, saying, “This much I know is true.” But your desire moves me far more than my own.
Who are you? You are the One who longs to be known in the eternal life you give and are. You want to be known, but not for your greatness or glorious splendor beyond all light, nor for the dazzling wonder that reduces my futile imagination to worthless rubble each time I try to grasp you. No, you would be known for your kindness, not for your vastness, for your nearness, not your inscrutable eternity.
You would be known as near kindness, present eternity, touchable wonder, tangible source of the eternal hope coursing through our souls, awakening us from the little death of sleep that we might enter a new time and do it all again.
You want me to know you. Such is your desire. The thought alone brings tears. It stops every thought of which my mind is capable. You want me … to know you, to touch you, to love you, to give my life to you who are Life itself. Your joy and chief desire in relation to me and all creation is to be known as eternal life, now, in the face of the Word made flesh, in my own flesh—and in the frail flesh of all whom I will see and touch this day.
I cannot penetrate the wonder of it. You who are eternal want to be known, touched and carried by these frail hands that even now stumble across the keys seeking those that will honor you, my dearest Friend and highest Hope. You, who are life, want me, who bears the seeds of my death, to see and hold and have fellowship with you who are light eternal.
I know you in your desire. And this much I know is true: You are the kindest of all generosities. You are the Nameless Wonder who is before all. You are Source of all life and love who longs to give the fullness of your eternity to me for the fulfillment of my mortal flesh. It is your joy to give and see this joy alight in our eyes.
This day may we touch and see you are in the places you are pleased to be known that we may live. Amen.
--Pastor David L. Miller
1 John 1:1-4
“We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands concerning the world of life—this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was reveed to us” (1 John 1:1-2).
Prayer
Who are you, my beloved? I know the writer’s desire to speak, to testify, saying, “This much I know is true.” But your desire moves me far more than my own.
Who are you? You are the One who longs to be known in the eternal life you give and are. You want to be known, but not for your greatness or glorious splendor beyond all light, nor for the dazzling wonder that reduces my futile imagination to worthless rubble each time I try to grasp you. No, you would be known for your kindness, not for your vastness, for your nearness, not your inscrutable eternity.
You would be known as near kindness, present eternity, touchable wonder, tangible source of the eternal hope coursing through our souls, awakening us from the little death of sleep that we might enter a new time and do it all again.
You want me to know you. Such is your desire. The thought alone brings tears. It stops every thought of which my mind is capable. You want me … to know you, to touch you, to love you, to give my life to you who are Life itself. Your joy and chief desire in relation to me and all creation is to be known as eternal life, now, in the face of the Word made flesh, in my own flesh—and in the frail flesh of all whom I will see and touch this day.
I cannot penetrate the wonder of it. You who are eternal want to be known, touched and carried by these frail hands that even now stumble across the keys seeking those that will honor you, my dearest Friend and highest Hope. You, who are life, want me, who bears the seeds of my death, to see and hold and have fellowship with you who are light eternal.
I know you in your desire. And this much I know is true: You are the kindest of all generosities. You are the Nameless Wonder who is before all. You are Source of all life and love who longs to give the fullness of your eternity to me for the fulfillment of my mortal flesh. It is your joy to give and see this joy alight in our eyes.
This day may we touch and see you are in the places you are pleased to be known that we may live. Amen.
--Pastor David L. Miller
Monday, December 25, 2006
Monday, December 25, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:21-23
“Greet every saint in Christ Jesus. The friends who are with me greet you. All the saints greet you, especially those of the emperor's household. The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit” (Phil. 4:21-23).
Prayer
O Great Mystery, we shall greet one another with warmest embrace and tears for you have greeted us in the depth of our flesh. In waiting rooms and by baggage carrels, by phones and at the front window, we shall await our heart’s desire until they appear. Then again, we shall know the joyous rush of greeting and holding those you have given us to love.
And you shall be in every embrace and all tears. For you have greeted this tired Earth with the freshness of divine embrace, holding all its contradictions in the tender flesh of your appearance.
In the flesh of my Lord Jesus, You take into intimate embrace all that is and all we are in the warmth of a divine greeting to which no one and nothing is foreign. The wonder of your fleshly embrace of our flesh and fearful finitude opens our souls. Our hearts fly open so that all that is in us flows out to you and into you. All we are, our confusion and sin, our contradictions and failures, our ideals and hopes, all of it finds warmest greeting every morning, and most certainly on Christmas morning.
So we shall greet our beloved with warmest affection and know that our arms too, having been taken into the wonder of your Incarnation, are your divine embrace warming the coldness of earth. And we shall know that the arms that receive us are your own. Amen.
(Praying the Mystery will be taking a break, having now prayed through Paul’s Letter to the Philippians. It will appear again in late January and will focus on the small New Testament letter of 1 John. My warmest greetings to you who have read and prayed with me. Thank you for your notes of appreciation and encouragement. I treasure you partnership in the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.)
Philippians 4:21-23
“Greet every saint in Christ Jesus. The friends who are with me greet you. All the saints greet you, especially those of the emperor's household. The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit” (Phil. 4:21-23).
Prayer
O Great Mystery, we shall greet one another with warmest embrace and tears for you have greeted us in the depth of our flesh. In waiting rooms and by baggage carrels, by phones and at the front window, we shall await our heart’s desire until they appear. Then again, we shall know the joyous rush of greeting and holding those you have given us to love.
And you shall be in every embrace and all tears. For you have greeted this tired Earth with the freshness of divine embrace, holding all its contradictions in the tender flesh of your appearance.
In the flesh of my Lord Jesus, You take into intimate embrace all that is and all we are in the warmth of a divine greeting to which no one and nothing is foreign. The wonder of your fleshly embrace of our flesh and fearful finitude opens our souls. Our hearts fly open so that all that is in us flows out to you and into you. All we are, our confusion and sin, our contradictions and failures, our ideals and hopes, all of it finds warmest greeting every morning, and most certainly on Christmas morning.
So we shall greet our beloved with warmest affection and know that our arms too, having been taken into the wonder of your Incarnation, are your divine embrace warming the coldness of earth. And we shall know that the arms that receive us are your own. Amen.
(Praying the Mystery will be taking a break, having now prayed through Paul’s Letter to the Philippians. It will appear again in late January and will focus on the small New Testament letter of 1 John. My warmest greetings to you who have read and prayed with me. Thank you for your notes of appreciation and encouragement. I treasure you partnership in the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.)
Friday, December 22, 2006
Friday, December 22, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:15-20
“I have been paid in full and have more than enough; I am fully satisfied, now that I have received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent, a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God. And my God will fully satisfy every need of your according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen” (Phil. 4:18-20).
Prayer
Why does our giving please you, Holy Mystery? Why is it that I know your eternal smile, your gentle joy, in every kindness and generosity of soul that I see?
Could it be that all true giving is carried by the great river of life that has poured from your heart since time began? Can it be that our joy in bringing joy to another heart is not our joy but yours? Is it possible that the fullness of generosity that bursts the seams of our souls is the Fullness of your divine heart? And is this Fullness the highest ecstasy human flesh may know?
I believe so. I believe we are in you, most intimately knowing and enjoying you, when you fill us that we transcend the narrow circle of self truly to love, to give, to share our life. Lifted beyond ourselves we, finally, become ourselves, full and complete, knowing the utter incomprehensibility of You who are Boundless Love. And our flesh, too, shines with the glory of your life, a fragrant offering that pleases you.
You privilege us to please you. For our giving, all giving, shares in the dancing love that courses mysteriously in your inner, divine life. It pours from you into this and every cosmos to give life and abundance to all you love, and you love all.
So take us into the holy joy of your great generosity. For we come again to Christmas. Stir our hearts to celebrate the appearance of your eternal kindness, shining in the face of Jesus. This day and most certainly Christmas Day, may we, too, shine with the glory of your life. Amen.
Philippians 4:15-20
“I have been paid in full and have more than enough; I am fully satisfied, now that I have received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent, a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God. And my God will fully satisfy every need of your according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen” (Phil. 4:18-20).
Prayer
Why does our giving please you, Holy Mystery? Why is it that I know your eternal smile, your gentle joy, in every kindness and generosity of soul that I see?
Could it be that all true giving is carried by the great river of life that has poured from your heart since time began? Can it be that our joy in bringing joy to another heart is not our joy but yours? Is it possible that the fullness of generosity that bursts the seams of our souls is the Fullness of your divine heart? And is this Fullness the highest ecstasy human flesh may know?
I believe so. I believe we are in you, most intimately knowing and enjoying you, when you fill us that we transcend the narrow circle of self truly to love, to give, to share our life. Lifted beyond ourselves we, finally, become ourselves, full and complete, knowing the utter incomprehensibility of You who are Boundless Love. And our flesh, too, shines with the glory of your life, a fragrant offering that pleases you.
You privilege us to please you. For our giving, all giving, shares in the dancing love that courses mysteriously in your inner, divine life. It pours from you into this and every cosmos to give life and abundance to all you love, and you love all.
So take us into the holy joy of your great generosity. For we come again to Christmas. Stir our hearts to celebrate the appearance of your eternal kindness, shining in the face of Jesus. This day and most certainly Christmas Day, may we, too, shine with the glory of your life. Amen.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:15-20
“You Philippians indeed know that in the early days of the gospel, when I left Macedonia, no church shared with me in the matter of giving and receiving, except you alone. ... I have been paid in full and have more than enough; I am fully satisfied, now that I have received ... the gifts you sent, a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God. And my God will fully satisfy every need of your according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen” (Phil. 4:15-16, 18-20).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. You are the fragrant offering we receive in every true act of giving. You. Open our hearts to receive you in every generosity. And move our souls to participate in that great cycle of giving and receiving that is the presence of your life among us.
You are the great giving of God. In you the Holy One shares the treasure of divine life. Here we meet the purity of love given in a joy beyond our capacity to comprehend.
So come, Lord Jesus. Let us look upon your beauty and receive the love you are, the Love of whom you are the face. We yearn to enter the mystery of a love beyond all measure. We crave Christmas for we long to be filled with the Fullness of God who is love. So fill us with your Fullness that our tears of joy may give you proper praise. Draw us into your great generosity that we, in our receiving and giving, may participate in the incarnation of your divine life in the places of our habitation.
Every real gift, every act of giving, cries out your name and bears the truth of your divine life. Every act of sharing and love glorifies you, enlarging the wonder of your presence among us, making earth itself and our withered hearts fragrant with your beauty.
So come Lord Jesus. Give us the eyes to see you in every generosity. Give us your heart that we might share in the unspeakable giving of the Unspeakable Giver, who is Love beyond all measure. Amen.
Philippians 4:15-20
“You Philippians indeed know that in the early days of the gospel, when I left Macedonia, no church shared with me in the matter of giving and receiving, except you alone. ... I have been paid in full and have more than enough; I am fully satisfied, now that I have received ... the gifts you sent, a fragrant offering, a sacrifice acceptable and pleasing to God. And my God will fully satisfy every need of your according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen” (Phil. 4:15-16, 18-20).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. You are the fragrant offering we receive in every true act of giving. You. Open our hearts to receive you in every generosity. And move our souls to participate in that great cycle of giving and receiving that is the presence of your life among us.
You are the great giving of God. In you the Holy One shares the treasure of divine life. Here we meet the purity of love given in a joy beyond our capacity to comprehend.
So come, Lord Jesus. Let us look upon your beauty and receive the love you are, the Love of whom you are the face. We yearn to enter the mystery of a love beyond all measure. We crave Christmas for we long to be filled with the Fullness of God who is love. So fill us with your Fullness that our tears of joy may give you proper praise. Draw us into your great generosity that we, in our receiving and giving, may participate in the incarnation of your divine life in the places of our habitation.
Every real gift, every act of giving, cries out your name and bears the truth of your divine life. Every act of sharing and love glorifies you, enlarging the wonder of your presence among us, making earth itself and our withered hearts fragrant with your beauty.
So come Lord Jesus. Give us the eyes to see you in every generosity. Give us your heart that we might share in the unspeakable giving of the Unspeakable Giver, who is Love beyond all measure. Amen.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:10-13
“I have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. In any case, it was kind of you to share my distress” (Phil. 4:11b-13).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Teach us your secret. You come to us as an ordinary infant. But you bear in your flesh a unity with divine wonder that is the secret of contentment of joy. You walked this earth gently. You did not need to prove anything, to win great victories or even the approval of others. You knew from the start that true life exists not in pride of possession or personal power. Life resides in the enduring unity, the habitual holy communion you shared in hidden depths of soul with the One who is eternal and who is all love.
You knew this Holy and Unspeakable Mystery not by intellectual grasping but by abiding. Moment to moment, soul-to-soul, you dwelt in undivided union in a love I cannot imagine, yet which I know with certainty in darkest intuition.
My senses collapse in frustrated failure trying to penetrate the dazzling darkness that surrounds this One who is love. But, Lord Jesus, you knew this One always with absolute certitude, dwelling in hidden depths of intimate communion so that there was no separation between you. This is your secret, Lord Jesus. You were and are eternally one with the One. I look into your face and know that I gaze into the depths of Eternal Wonder.
Can I enjoy such communion, my soul abiding, resting, dwelling in blessed communion with the One Love in whom you constantly dwelt? Sometimes I dwell in that space, experiencing the contentment, the joy, the peace you give your friends. Only Lord Jesus, I would know this communion not intermittently but as enduring presence.
So come Lord Jesus. Draw near this soul of mine again. Let me rest in the love I find in you that I may learn the secret you alone can share. Amen.
Philippians 4:10-13
“I have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me. In any case, it was kind of you to share my distress” (Phil. 4:11b-13).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Teach us your secret. You come to us as an ordinary infant. But you bear in your flesh a unity with divine wonder that is the secret of contentment of joy. You walked this earth gently. You did not need to prove anything, to win great victories or even the approval of others. You knew from the start that true life exists not in pride of possession or personal power. Life resides in the enduring unity, the habitual holy communion you shared in hidden depths of soul with the One who is eternal and who is all love.
You knew this Holy and Unspeakable Mystery not by intellectual grasping but by abiding. Moment to moment, soul-to-soul, you dwelt in undivided union in a love I cannot imagine, yet which I know with certainty in darkest intuition.
My senses collapse in frustrated failure trying to penetrate the dazzling darkness that surrounds this One who is love. But, Lord Jesus, you knew this One always with absolute certitude, dwelling in hidden depths of intimate communion so that there was no separation between you. This is your secret, Lord Jesus. You were and are eternally one with the One. I look into your face and know that I gaze into the depths of Eternal Wonder.
Can I enjoy such communion, my soul abiding, resting, dwelling in blessed communion with the One Love in whom you constantly dwelt? Sometimes I dwell in that space, experiencing the contentment, the joy, the peace you give your friends. Only Lord Jesus, I would know this communion not intermittently but as enduring presence.
So come Lord Jesus. Draw near this soul of mine again. Let me rest in the love I find in you that I may learn the secret you alone can share. Amen.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:8-9
“Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you” (Phil. 4:8-9).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Peace escapes us. It lies in a land beyond our grasp. But perhaps that is our problem. We grasp and seek to hold for our own what can only be received with an open hand and a humble heart--and shared the same way, lest it be lost.
So young we learn life is about grasping what we want. Lines between “mine and not mine” quickly appear. Life is soon defined by enlarging what is mine, and competing with those who might take what I need to expand my importance, command and kingdom. It’s a movement of body and soul that stretches from the playpen to the world’s bloodiest streets.
And it kills us, Dear Friend. It separates our souls from the hearts of those we most need. It teaches us to fear. It erodes trust. It turns creation into a thing to be possessed, and human beings made in your image into mere objects of our manipulation.
Come Lord Jesus. Teach us the way of peace. Our hearts long for what you alone can give. You point us to all that is beautiful of Earth, all that is pure, all that is right and just, that pleases soul and mind, all that is worthy of praise and appreciation. You come and reveal the wonder of Eternity in your human face and hands, wide open in blessing.
And I know: All is gift, not to be possessed but received and savored as the outpouring of an eternal generosity that I cannot begin to comprehend, except with a heart of overwhelmed gratitude.
Peace begins in your boundless, divine generosity, O Loving Mystery. You take pleasure in giving the fullness of your life and beauty. May I see and savor all that is your joy to give that gratitude may teach me the way of peace. In the advent of your great self-giving, may your peace guard my heart and mind. Amen.
Philippians 4:8-9
“Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you” (Phil. 4:8-9).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Peace escapes us. It lies in a land beyond our grasp. But perhaps that is our problem. We grasp and seek to hold for our own what can only be received with an open hand and a humble heart--and shared the same way, lest it be lost.
So young we learn life is about grasping what we want. Lines between “mine and not mine” quickly appear. Life is soon defined by enlarging what is mine, and competing with those who might take what I need to expand my importance, command and kingdom. It’s a movement of body and soul that stretches from the playpen to the world’s bloodiest streets.
And it kills us, Dear Friend. It separates our souls from the hearts of those we most need. It teaches us to fear. It erodes trust. It turns creation into a thing to be possessed, and human beings made in your image into mere objects of our manipulation.
Come Lord Jesus. Teach us the way of peace. Our hearts long for what you alone can give. You point us to all that is beautiful of Earth, all that is pure, all that is right and just, that pleases soul and mind, all that is worthy of praise and appreciation. You come and reveal the wonder of Eternity in your human face and hands, wide open in blessing.
And I know: All is gift, not to be possessed but received and savored as the outpouring of an eternal generosity that I cannot begin to comprehend, except with a heart of overwhelmed gratitude.
Peace begins in your boundless, divine generosity, O Loving Mystery. You take pleasure in giving the fullness of your life and beauty. May I see and savor all that is your joy to give that gratitude may teach me the way of peace. In the advent of your great self-giving, may your peace guard my heart and mind. Amen.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Monday, December 18, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:8-9
“Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing he things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you” (Phil. 4:8-9).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Ah, but you always come. And you are always near, abiding even in the unsuspecting who reveal your beauty unawares. From across a room, I watch a mother raise a tiny new born to her lips, a little girl, I suppose, for all the pink. She kisses one tender cheek then lays the little one’s head over her heart. The fragile infant rests there soothed by the first sound she ever heard, the rhythm of a human heart pumping the warm blood of life into her, a parable bearing the truth of the universe.
The mother’s gesture was a totally unconscious. It was not done for display or consumption. No one was standing with them. No one was watching but me, anonymously, from far off. But I was close enough to witness the purity of a love given in joy. The pair shimmered with gentleness and peace, a holy family alive with the life of you whom I can only name Love Abiding.
I savored what I saw, Dearest Friend. For there you were again, in human flesh, revealing the heart not only of one woman but of Eternity. I savored the scene for it made me more alive than I had been but moment before, more aware, more peaceful, more gentle, and utterly certain that the world is shot through with your holy presence, convinced that the love you are is everywhere.
Wherever there is beauty and purity, justice and peace, gentleness and mercy, truth and honorable life, you are there. And there we rest our heads on the heart of the cosmos to hear the rhythm of Eternity, pumping the warm blood of life into our souls. Thanks be to God. So come, Lord Jesus. We want to live. Amen.
Philippians 4:8-9
“Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing he things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you” (Phil. 4:8-9).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Ah, but you always come. And you are always near, abiding even in the unsuspecting who reveal your beauty unawares. From across a room, I watch a mother raise a tiny new born to her lips, a little girl, I suppose, for all the pink. She kisses one tender cheek then lays the little one’s head over her heart. The fragile infant rests there soothed by the first sound she ever heard, the rhythm of a human heart pumping the warm blood of life into her, a parable bearing the truth of the universe.
The mother’s gesture was a totally unconscious. It was not done for display or consumption. No one was standing with them. No one was watching but me, anonymously, from far off. But I was close enough to witness the purity of a love given in joy. The pair shimmered with gentleness and peace, a holy family alive with the life of you whom I can only name Love Abiding.
I savored what I saw, Dearest Friend. For there you were again, in human flesh, revealing the heart not only of one woman but of Eternity. I savored the scene for it made me more alive than I had been but moment before, more aware, more peaceful, more gentle, and utterly certain that the world is shot through with your holy presence, convinced that the love you are is everywhere.
Wherever there is beauty and purity, justice and peace, gentleness and mercy, truth and honorable life, you are there. And there we rest our heads on the heart of the cosmos to hear the rhythm of Eternity, pumping the warm blood of life into our souls. Thanks be to God. So come, Lord Jesus. We want to live. Amen.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Draw near that we may speak heart to heart. But this does not describe the intimacy we know in these morning moments. For when I speak to you it is you who speak in me to the Holy Greatness who is beyond me. Your Spirit abides, speaking in the depth of this human heart to you who are ever beyond me. There is no space between us, no here and there, no separation, but two hearts holding intimate exchange in one mortality.
You are the Near Abiding and Infinitely Transcendent, the Far Near One, whose immense divine heart thirsts to abide in and with me. Your divine desire is that I may know you even as I am known, possessing such knowledge as only love may have.
No wonder you insist that we pour out prayer and supplication to you, making our hearts known to you. Certainly, you already know the quagmire of our soul’s confliction. But in prayer we give voice to you who hungers to pray us, to pray in us, to pray us into intimacy with an infinite love we have no other way of entering.
You demand our prayers that we may abide in each other. You insist because you hunger to know us, to dwell intimately, heart to heart, your immensity communing in and with my smallness. My desire to know you and nothing but you is nothing more--or less--than your Spirit taking residence in this soul. Your Spirit within my own moves to complete that blessed communion which is your desire for me.
So Lord Jesus, you who always come, I will come to you. I will pour out my prayers and requests, knowing all the while that it is you who speaks in me, praying me into the dearest desire of your heart, and mine. Amen.
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Draw near that we may speak heart to heart. But this does not describe the intimacy we know in these morning moments. For when I speak to you it is you who speak in me to the Holy Greatness who is beyond me. Your Spirit abides, speaking in the depth of this human heart to you who are ever beyond me. There is no space between us, no here and there, no separation, but two hearts holding intimate exchange in one mortality.
You are the Near Abiding and Infinitely Transcendent, the Far Near One, whose immense divine heart thirsts to abide in and with me. Your divine desire is that I may know you even as I am known, possessing such knowledge as only love may have.
No wonder you insist that we pour out prayer and supplication to you, making our hearts known to you. Certainly, you already know the quagmire of our soul’s confliction. But in prayer we give voice to you who hungers to pray us, to pray in us, to pray us into intimacy with an infinite love we have no other way of entering.
You demand our prayers that we may abide in each other. You insist because you hunger to know us, to dwell intimately, heart to heart, your immensity communing in and with my smallness. My desire to know you and nothing but you is nothing more--or less--than your Spirit taking residence in this soul. Your Spirit within my own moves to complete that blessed communion which is your desire for me.
So Lord Jesus, you who always come, I will come to you. I will pour out my prayers and requests, knowing all the while that it is you who speaks in me, praying me into the dearest desire of your heart, and mine. Amen.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. I am here again, and you are here always. In prayer I enter the presence of you who are Presence beyond my ability to grasp or comprehend. I cannot understand you. But as certainly as the feel of my fingers on the keys, I know you are and that you are here. And I rest, sinking into a love that has known and treasured me since before the birth of time.
I read the words again, unable in these Advent days to move beyond them. Rejoice, ... do not worry, ... let your gentleness be known, ... peace will guard your heart and mind. They transport me into another world more lovely and gracious than I can bear. Insatiable longing fills me. I want to live in that world and only there.
Amid tears I did not choose, you take me into what I most need--you. You encircle me in your embrace where without word or concept I know the Love, the Mystery, the Unspeakable Wonder from whom all flows like a river from eternity into time. This offers no knowledge for which I have words. I simply know you who are Love, and life finds completion for I know you.
Jesus, you come, inviting me to savor the contours of your face and know that the compassion I find there is the compassion in which I was, am and will always be held. I dwell in the climate of divine compassion. Constant and inescapable. Such knowledge moves me to rejoice beyond worry, letting peace wash over me and gentleness through me so that my life becomes revelation of another world where all you desire is complete and your love is all in all.
We hunger for that world. So come, Lord Jesus. Take us into your heart that we might taste our eternal tomorrow. Amen.
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. I am here again, and you are here always. In prayer I enter the presence of you who are Presence beyond my ability to grasp or comprehend. I cannot understand you. But as certainly as the feel of my fingers on the keys, I know you are and that you are here. And I rest, sinking into a love that has known and treasured me since before the birth of time.
I read the words again, unable in these Advent days to move beyond them. Rejoice, ... do not worry, ... let your gentleness be known, ... peace will guard your heart and mind. They transport me into another world more lovely and gracious than I can bear. Insatiable longing fills me. I want to live in that world and only there.
Amid tears I did not choose, you take me into what I most need--you. You encircle me in your embrace where without word or concept I know the Love, the Mystery, the Unspeakable Wonder from whom all flows like a river from eternity into time. This offers no knowledge for which I have words. I simply know you who are Love, and life finds completion for I know you.
Jesus, you come, inviting me to savor the contours of your face and know that the compassion I find there is the compassion in which I was, am and will always be held. I dwell in the climate of divine compassion. Constant and inescapable. Such knowledge moves me to rejoice beyond worry, letting peace wash over me and gentleness through me so that my life becomes revelation of another world where all you desire is complete and your love is all in all.
We hunger for that world. So come, Lord Jesus. Take us into your heart that we might taste our eternal tomorrow. Amen.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Free our hearts and loose our minds from besetting worries that with full and pure hearts we may prepare to celebrate the feast of your coming among us. We are born to worry as smoke rises. We are finite and mortal. From earliest infancy, there is never a moment when our souls can forget this most fundamental fact. We weep for food, for warmth, for comfort, for protection that already we know we cannot provide for ourselves.
We are fragile creatures. We climb high and travel far in promethean efforts to deny the truth of our frame. But even our greatest triumphs cannot drown out the inner whisper, “You are mortal. You are never enough. You need. You can never secure your life against all you fear. Your existence is ever dependent upon powers that you cannot begin to understand or control.”
From anxieties native to our nature we fly into your arms, O Immeasurable Mercy. For you are life beyond dying. You are Loving Presence when all loves fail. You are hope beyond all human provision. You are joy in the darkest nights of our journey. You are Eternal Gentleness and Infinite Nearness when our vigils are lonely and the days are harsh.
You are Love beyond all knowing and speaking. And you are mine. Is there anything else I really need to know?
So come, Lord Jesus. Show us again that we are yours. This alone frees us from our fears that with full and and grateful hearts we may praise you who came, who will come, and who is Love Abiding. Amen.
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Free our hearts and loose our minds from besetting worries that with full and pure hearts we may prepare to celebrate the feast of your coming among us. We are born to worry as smoke rises. We are finite and mortal. From earliest infancy, there is never a moment when our souls can forget this most fundamental fact. We weep for food, for warmth, for comfort, for protection that already we know we cannot provide for ourselves.
We are fragile creatures. We climb high and travel far in promethean efforts to deny the truth of our frame. But even our greatest triumphs cannot drown out the inner whisper, “You are mortal. You are never enough. You need. You can never secure your life against all you fear. Your existence is ever dependent upon powers that you cannot begin to understand or control.”
From anxieties native to our nature we fly into your arms, O Immeasurable Mercy. For you are life beyond dying. You are Loving Presence when all loves fail. You are hope beyond all human provision. You are joy in the darkest nights of our journey. You are Eternal Gentleness and Infinite Nearness when our vigils are lonely and the days are harsh.
You are Love beyond all knowing and speaking. And you are mine. Is there anything else I really need to know?
So come, Lord Jesus. Show us again that we are yours. This alone frees us from our fears that with full and and grateful hearts we may praise you who came, who will come, and who is Love Abiding. Amen.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Let your peace guard my heart and mind. They stand in constant need of guarding, and you are the Prince of Peace. You are my peace. Apart from you, my heart knows no calm or assurance. You are ever near. But peace eludes me when I do not know myself encompassed in your all-embracing care. So allow me again pray myself into awareness of your abiding here in this silent cell where I pour out my heart to you, letting my vulnerability be the royal road into your divine heart.
I am in you at all times. Baptized, you enclose me into the circle of blessing that is your inner life, O Blessed Trinity. But I would know myself in you at all times. Then peace pours forth from your heart into mine, and I grow calm and gentle, peaceful and peace giving.
I do not dwell in this holy blessing at all times. But often I have tasted it, and I crave it like my next breath. My heart and mind are ruled too much by my fears. Anxieties about my life, my skills, my knowledge, my awkward ways and desire for others respect, these stir me from silence to speak too much at inopportune times, bumbling and stumbling over poorly formed thoughts, wondering if I am as much a fool as I feel.
Put a guard on my heart, and a seal on my lips, O Peace of Eternity. You are my peace. Guard my heart behind high walls of your constant watchfulness. Then I will know my being, entire and full, within the protective arms of your loving and eternal embrace. Hidden there in your love, inner silence crowds out the anxious voices. Peace fills and spills from me, a living stream of your holy life, pouring from me into your world to bless those lives you have place near to befriend and care.
Come Lord Jesus. Let us know ourselves in you that peace may guard our every word and act, our thought and ways. This day may we live beyond our fears in your blessed peace. Amen.
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Let your peace guard my heart and mind. They stand in constant need of guarding, and you are the Prince of Peace. You are my peace. Apart from you, my heart knows no calm or assurance. You are ever near. But peace eludes me when I do not know myself encompassed in your all-embracing care. So allow me again pray myself into awareness of your abiding here in this silent cell where I pour out my heart to you, letting my vulnerability be the royal road into your divine heart.
I am in you at all times. Baptized, you enclose me into the circle of blessing that is your inner life, O Blessed Trinity. But I would know myself in you at all times. Then peace pours forth from your heart into mine, and I grow calm and gentle, peaceful and peace giving.
I do not dwell in this holy blessing at all times. But often I have tasted it, and I crave it like my next breath. My heart and mind are ruled too much by my fears. Anxieties about my life, my skills, my knowledge, my awkward ways and desire for others respect, these stir me from silence to speak too much at inopportune times, bumbling and stumbling over poorly formed thoughts, wondering if I am as much a fool as I feel.
Put a guard on my heart, and a seal on my lips, O Peace of Eternity. You are my peace. Guard my heart behind high walls of your constant watchfulness. Then I will know my being, entire and full, within the protective arms of your loving and eternal embrace. Hidden there in your love, inner silence crowds out the anxious voices. Peace fills and spills from me, a living stream of your holy life, pouring from me into your world to bless those lives you have place near to befriend and care.
Come Lord Jesus. Let us know ourselves in you that peace may guard our every word and act, our thought and ways. This day may we live beyond our fears in your blessed peace. Amen.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Monday, December 11, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Tell me, my Truest Joy, are the gentle joyful, or are the joyful gentle? Which is first and cause and which the affect? Or do both gentleness and joy find their source elsewhere? I ask because I desire both, and both too often escape me. Amid demands of the day, my heart grows quick and hard, my voice takes an edge and my inner space rattles with defensive chatter born of fear.
I know the difference in my soul when I am joyful. My heart grows expansive and generous. I embrace more of your world and of my own soul, receiving and holding near even the ugly and painful parts from which I normally recoil. Joy fills me, and gentleness becomes my desire.
It happens the other way too. There are days when the fragile beauty of every soul and all creation softens my voice and gentles my hand. I grow quiet and tender, seeking to bless every life you place in my care. Such gentle giving stings my eyes with tears of joy-filled gratitude, for I know then that I am part of your great giving of life to all you love.
Gentleness and joy appear together, natural siblings in my soul. Mutual apostles they are; one leads quickly to the other. And neither appears in my heart apart from you, Truest Joy. They appear where I know you. When I know your nearness, they appear. And when they appear, I know you are near. So I know, dearest One, a joyful and gentle heart is the miracle of a love that is not my own, but yours. Your love, the gracious heart of infinity, fills and spills from my heart as a reservoir overfilled, watering the land, issuing forth a living stream of gentle joy.
So come, Lord Jesus. Bring gentleness and joy to our lives and limbs. Our world is dying for both. Our souls shrivel in darkest winter cold unless you fire our hearts with the presence of your love. May we know you today. Amen.
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Tell me, my Truest Joy, are the gentle joyful, or are the joyful gentle? Which is first and cause and which the affect? Or do both gentleness and joy find their source elsewhere? I ask because I desire both, and both too often escape me. Amid demands of the day, my heart grows quick and hard, my voice takes an edge and my inner space rattles with defensive chatter born of fear.
I know the difference in my soul when I am joyful. My heart grows expansive and generous. I embrace more of your world and of my own soul, receiving and holding near even the ugly and painful parts from which I normally recoil. Joy fills me, and gentleness becomes my desire.
It happens the other way too. There are days when the fragile beauty of every soul and all creation softens my voice and gentles my hand. I grow quiet and tender, seeking to bless every life you place in my care. Such gentle giving stings my eyes with tears of joy-filled gratitude, for I know then that I am part of your great giving of life to all you love.
Gentleness and joy appear together, natural siblings in my soul. Mutual apostles they are; one leads quickly to the other. And neither appears in my heart apart from you, Truest Joy. They appear where I know you. When I know your nearness, they appear. And when they appear, I know you are near. So I know, dearest One, a joyful and gentle heart is the miracle of a love that is not my own, but yours. Your love, the gracious heart of infinity, fills and spills from my heart as a reservoir overfilled, watering the land, issuing forth a living stream of gentle joy.
So come, Lord Jesus. Bring gentleness and joy to our lives and limbs. Our world is dying for both. Our souls shrivel in darkest winter cold unless you fire our hearts with the presence of your love. May we know you today. Amen.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Thursday, December 7, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Teach our hearts that we belong to your new age. Convince our souls that we are citizens of a land alien to the one we typically inhabit. We live what we see. The challenges of our days loom large. We see threats to our ability to succeed, to be accepted, to master that corner of the world we need to control to feel safe. And fear immediately follows, shadowing our hearts, sucking our souls dry until they are mere husks, empty of the abundant joy and vitality that is your desire for all you love.
Come, Lord Jesus. Draw us beyond the illusion of our fears into the world of your grace. Lift us from dread and exhaustion into joy and tears. Our being springs from the Ground of Love you are. We are alive with you. Apart from that love we do not exist. You, Abiding Love, surround and envelop us and all life. We dwell in the atmosphere of Holy Presence. You are near.
Fear evaporates like so much morning mist when our souls release their fearful grip and live into into this awareness. Joy fills our frame, and the beauty you have loved into us is released, sparkling in hope-filled faces alive with anticipation. Even in my face. Thank you.
As we await the fullness of your coming to fill all things, I ask again. Come, Lord Jesus, fill us with the awareness of your nearness that we may live in the presence of Everlasting Love, drawing you in with our every breath. Then, truly, we shall live, with joy, beyond our fearful illusions. Amen.
Philippians 4:4:1-7
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God that passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4-7).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus. Teach our hearts that we belong to your new age. Convince our souls that we are citizens of a land alien to the one we typically inhabit. We live what we see. The challenges of our days loom large. We see threats to our ability to succeed, to be accepted, to master that corner of the world we need to control to feel safe. And fear immediately follows, shadowing our hearts, sucking our souls dry until they are mere husks, empty of the abundant joy and vitality that is your desire for all you love.
Come, Lord Jesus. Draw us beyond the illusion of our fears into the world of your grace. Lift us from dread and exhaustion into joy and tears. Our being springs from the Ground of Love you are. We are alive with you. Apart from that love we do not exist. You, Abiding Love, surround and envelop us and all life. We dwell in the atmosphere of Holy Presence. You are near.
Fear evaporates like so much morning mist when our souls release their fearful grip and live into into this awareness. Joy fills our frame, and the beauty you have loved into us is released, sparkling in hope-filled faces alive with anticipation. Even in my face. Thank you.
As we await the fullness of your coming to fill all things, I ask again. Come, Lord Jesus, fill us with the awareness of your nearness that we may live in the presence of Everlasting Love, drawing you in with our every breath. Then, truly, we shall live, with joy, beyond our fearful illusions. Amen.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
Today’s reading
Philippians 3:20-21
“But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform the body of our humiliation so that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, by the power that enables him to make all things subject to himself” (Phil. 3:20-21).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus transform our bodies. Conform us to your glory. Your glory is clear. You lived transparent to the Loving Mystery you called “Abba, Father,” the infinite source all creation, the fountain of all being, the Living Spring of Love. All you did and are--every act of healing and care, every word of teaching or argument with those who opposed you--conformed in detail to the desire of the Everlasting Love who has haunted us all our days. From your call to enter to your kingdom to your acceptance of your torturous death, you are the face of the Infinite Wonder no eye has seen.
But we have seen you, and seeing you we behold the Loving Mystery who desires to shape our lives and bodies into the image of your eternal beauty. It takes my breath away and scares me. For you reveal a love I don’t and can’t grasp. Your love grasps me and doesn’t let go. It is hungry, discontent and unresting until it fills every empty space where it is not, every corner of every soul that still turns away, clogged by its own fears and preoccupations. You will have all of us, and all of us will be the love you are. But I wonder: What little will be left of my self-absorbed, fear-disfigured life when I, finally, am subject to the love you are?
Still I pray. I must pray, “Come, Lord Jesus.” I know that you do. I look about and see the glory of your hungry, restless love in the lives of your beloved, sometimes even in my own body. Continue to fill us with the divine desire from which your every word flowed like a living spring. Conform our bodies to your own that we might known and shine with the Everlasting Love with whom we cannot live without.
Come, Lord Jesus, our hearts are hungry for you. Amen.
Philippians 3:20-21
“But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform the body of our humiliation so that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, by the power that enables him to make all things subject to himself” (Phil. 3:20-21).
Prayer
Come, Lord Jesus transform our bodies. Conform us to your glory. Your glory is clear. You lived transparent to the Loving Mystery you called “Abba, Father,” the infinite source all creation, the fountain of all being, the Living Spring of Love. All you did and are--every act of healing and care, every word of teaching or argument with those who opposed you--conformed in detail to the desire of the Everlasting Love who has haunted us all our days. From your call to enter to your kingdom to your acceptance of your torturous death, you are the face of the Infinite Wonder no eye has seen.
But we have seen you, and seeing you we behold the Loving Mystery who desires to shape our lives and bodies into the image of your eternal beauty. It takes my breath away and scares me. For you reveal a love I don’t and can’t grasp. Your love grasps me and doesn’t let go. It is hungry, discontent and unresting until it fills every empty space where it is not, every corner of every soul that still turns away, clogged by its own fears and preoccupations. You will have all of us, and all of us will be the love you are. But I wonder: What little will be left of my self-absorbed, fear-disfigured life when I, finally, am subject to the love you are?
Still I pray. I must pray, “Come, Lord Jesus.” I know that you do. I look about and see the glory of your hungry, restless love in the lives of your beloved, sometimes even in my own body. Continue to fill us with the divine desire from which your every word flowed like a living spring. Conform our bodies to your own that we might known and shine with the Everlasting Love with whom we cannot live without.
Come, Lord Jesus, our hearts are hungry for you. Amen.
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