Thursday, March 15, 2007

Today’s text

1 John 2:18-20

“Children, it is the last hour! As you have heard that the antichrist is coming, so now many antichrists have come. From this we know that it is the last hour. They went out from us, but they did not belong to us; for if they belonged to us, they would have remained with us. But by going out they made it plain that none of them belongs to us. But you have been anointed by the Holy One, and all of you have knowledge” (1 John 2:18-20).

Prayer

Jesus, you have been the source of many divisions. It troubles me, always has. You come that we might abide in you and know the Loving Mystery you bear in our mutual abiding. Yet, you who are all life and joy, who are eternal wonder and everlasting peace, are more often a point of bitter discord even among those who believe into you. Or so it seems.

If only, … if only we truly knew you and the wonder you bear, would we then live beyond bitterness, pride and fear in which we tear at each other? Would we find ways to love and honor each other and your holy body, refusing to rend the garment of loving unity in which you seek to dress us and all things? We rip apart the concord you would create among us.

It has been so since the beginning. Bathed in your love, there remain deep wounds in our souls that do not yet know the healing wonder of being loved beyond all reason. We long for this freedom.

Heal us holy Jesus. Only you can. We need to know you; every part of us needs to know and abide in your love. Then, knowledge of you shall fill us, and we will learn the ways of peace. Amen.

--Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Today’s text

1 John 2:15-17

“Do not love the world or the things in the world. The love of the Father is not in those who love the world; for all that is in the world--the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, the pride in riches--comes not from the Father but from the world. And the world and its desires are passing away, but those who do the will of God live forever” (1 John 2:15-17).

Prayer

How can I not love your world, Holy One? You have made it so rich, alive and different from the boring moon. The gull floats above, silver, white and dark shadow all at once; drifting in sweet morning air that gently embraces the Earth with the promise of day. We begin again. Earth rises afresh, if not entirely pure of yesterday’s dirt, yet somehow washed clean enough for us to imagine today may bring our souls’ deep longing.

How can I not love this? I see you in all of it. The gull glides motionless, flicking but a feather to catch shifting columns of lifting air. She hangs not against morning blues and grays—but in you, soaring in the atmosphere of your eternity.

It is all in you—the sky, the day, the morning glow, the gull, the joy I find in all of it. All of it is in you. The cosmos itself is your body, expressing your creative joy and wonder, your power and delight. This blessed moment and all that happens occurs in you, for apart from you nothing is.

You have made us for love, allowing us to share your delight. Help us to know all things in you, no longer seeing through the eyes of pride or fear and selfishness. For then we seek only ourselves in the things you have made. Instead, let us seek and see you and your love, delighting in all that is for the sake of your creative joy and loving purpose. Amen.

--Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, March 12, 2007

Today’s text

1 John 2:15-17

“Do not love the world or the things in the world. The love of the Father is not in those who love the world; for all that is in the world--the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, the pride in riches--comes not from the Father but from the world. And the world and its desires are passing away, but those who do the will of God live forever” (1 John 2:15-17).

Prayer

To what shall I belong? Shall I belong to today or tomorrow, to a passing moment or eternity? The choice is ever before me, Everlasting Love, as are you.

I have known saints whose gaze is fixed on a vision I did not then see--and now only in glimpses. Not swayed by the convenience or correctness of the moment, their words and actions flowed from a depth of center untouched by popular concerns or the need to please. I sensed stability and steadiness in them. They were not blown about by ever-shifting winds of opinion.

Their words resonated not with the mood of the day but with the stillness of eternity, for they knew what is real and true and lasting: Your loving purpose, your all-enduring and ever-abiding love.

I long for a calm heart and quiet fortitude that I might live beyond my anxious and driven ways. Perhaps such quiet is not your gift to me, but stability of vision is your desire for all your children, me included.

Grant, Everlasting Love, that my heart may be fixed on your tomorrow, on the love that lasts. Turn my eyes from passing desires that distract and dissuade me from loving what you love that I may live with heart firmly fixed on your eternal purpose. By your great love, create in me a calm heart and a quiet mind that all I do may echo the holy stillness of your divine heart. Amen.

--Pr. David L. Miller

Friday, March 9, 2007

Today’s text

1 John 2:12-14

“I am writing to you little children, because your sins are forgiven on account of his name. I am writing to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I am writing to you, young people, because you have conquered the evil one. I write to you, children, because you know the Father. I write to you, fathers, because you know him who was from the beginning. I write to you young, people, because you are strong and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one” (1 John 2:12-14).

Prayer

What is this joy that bubbles from source unseen? What is this buoyancy in which I bob atop restless waves that are powerless now, to drag me to the depths? What is this consolation lifting me above the daily struggle to claim the day as a place of grace?

There is no need for the struggle this morning. The war is done and won, and you have carried the day by some process beyond my perception or understanding. There is just this joy in the morning that flows from the simple awareness that you abide, Eternal One, and abide in me. The evil that disfigures life, undermining the vitality and vibrancy of just being alive is no where in sight. It has fled the field of my soul.

For I know you who are from the beginning. Ask me what I know, and I can only answer, ‘not much.’ My knowledge is poor in concept, poorer still in content. It is but simple awareness of a mystery on which I would bet my life, and have. It is loving awareness of Love Abiding. May I name you this way? It seems fitting.

You abide. Amid the daily and the drab, the demands and destruction, you abide. Amid seemingly forsaken moments of such pain and loss that you are abolished from our vision, you abide. Love abides to overcome the evil that disfigures and destroys--and to give awareness of you who are Love Abiding, the ocean of grace in which we float. Amen.

--Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, March 7, 2007

Today’s text

1 John 2:9-11

“Whoever says, ‘I am in the light,’ while hating a brother or sister, is still in darkness. Whoever loves a brother or sister lives in the light, and in such a person there is no cause for stumbling. But whoever hates another believer is in the darkness, and does not know the way to go, because the darkness has brought on blindness” (1 John 2:9-11).

Prayer

Love is sight. Anything less is spiritual blindness. I always suspected as much. For when my heart is closed to another human soul not much penetrates my brittle shell. Refusing to love, I remain in the dark, unable and unwilling to see the frailty and truth and of human hearts beating next to mine.

So again and again I pray: Help me Dearest Heart of Mercy. Help me to receive. Open my ears to listen. Make me agnostic again: one who knows he does not know and thus must closely attend to the mystery of those who sit, stand and struggle alongside the enigma of my own life.

Dearest Heart, may I listen and hear, which is to say may I love all whom I encounter for the mystery they are, a mystery hidden in your love. You know them all, and me, which is to say that you love each of us fully, completely, without a moment’s pause. Only love knows and sees the deep heart of another soul--and the heart of the universe, your heart.

To love is to see. To refuse to love is to stumble in dark illusion about who we are and what our life is to be. This day, Holy Light, may I see as you see, to love as you love. Amen.

--Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Today’s text

1 John 2:8-10

“Yet, I am writing you a new commandment that is true in him and in you, because the darkness is passing away and the true light is already shining. Whoever says, ‘I am in the light,’ while hating a brother or sister, is still in darkness. Whoever loves a brother or sister lives in the light, and in such a person there is no cause for stumbling” (1 John 2:8-10).

Prayer

Passing away? Do you mean it, Holy Mystery? I heard the news today, and the darkness is well with us. Ancient hatreds erupt in murderous orgies. Greed and the will to power poison as many as ever, maybe more, immunizing human hearts from the suffering and death of multitudes. Violence desecrates our homes. Fountains of tears flow behind the doors of even the best-kept homes.

The voice on the radio reflects on the potential brutality hidden in every human heart. I don’t want to believe him, but there is too much evidence to make much of an argument. Darkness pulls at our hearts, dragging us back toward the primordial chaos from which you first made light, beauty and order. There remains a voice in me, too, that loves conquest more than peace.

Until my heart draws near to you, who are always near. Dwelling in your love, that voice falls silent. Standing before you who are Love Unimaginable, the voice disappears. It vanishes. For where you are, the darkness finds no room. It is driven out.

You, who will fill all time and space, seek to fill me with your love. And there are moments when, to my greatest joy, you succeed. Your love is the light that banishes the ancient darkness in human hearts. You exorcise the voice of violence that loves personal conquest more than the victory of divine grace.

Today, let me live in awareness of you that I may live in your light, a sign of your blessed future. Amen.

--Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, March 5, 2007

Today’s text

1 John 2:7-8

“Beloved, I am writing you no new commandment, but an old commandment that you have heard from the beginning; the old commandment is the word you have heard. Yet, I am writing you a new commandment that is true in him and in you, because the darkness is passing away and the true light is already shining” (1 John 2:7-8).

Prayer

True in me? If so, that’s the best news I have heard lately. For I know what your commandment is. You command what you give, and you give yourself. You delight to share the eternal, uncreated love that is the source and goal of all that is, my source and goal.

Can it be that your love--the holy and eternal necessity of your life--is also true in me? If so, then I bear the mystery of your life and love, and you command me to live according to that which you have done and continue to do in me.

And I know this is freedom, a liberty I seldom fully know but which I constantly crave. I long to be free, loving, moving through my life unencumbered by the impatience, grudges, anxieties, angers, indignities and tender wounds I carry. They are a sack of dead weight, freighting my heart, binding me to the ground when I long to soar. I hunger to delight in the freedom of flight known only as I live the love that you are in me, acting and speaking from the commandment, the principle, the holy and priceless gift at the core of my soul.

Only you can pry this weight of death from my shoulders, and you do. But you, Loving Mystery, don’t pry or struggle: you simply love, and love me. In awareness that I am fully loved and bear this love, the burdens of the past evaporate, and my soul is free to be that command, that beauty that is true in me and in all in whom you are pleased to dwell.

Only your love can drive off the burdens that tie our souls to earth. So let us live aware of your love that our souls may soar. Surely, that will make you smile. Amen.

--Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Today’s reading

1 John 2:7-8

“Beloved, I am writing you no new commandment, but an old commandment that you have had from the beginning; the old commandment is the word that you have heard. Yet, I am writing you a new commandment that is true in him and in you, because the darkness is passing away and the true light is already shining.” (1 John 2:7-8).

Prayer

Your desire is ancient and enduring, Eternal One. You have inscribed the everlasting yearning, the beating ache of your holy heart in the depths of all that has being—and in us. Thank you. There are days that ache is hard to bear, but in gratitude I know: It is your eternal hunger that keeps me alive, hope-filled and human, as much as I can be.

The primeval command you have placed in our souls is the beating heart of a dawning age, an era of grace when all that you are transfuses all that you have made, and all that is glistens with the loving beauty shining in the face of our brother Jesus.

In him, Loving Mystery, you reveal the brilliance of eternity, the desire of the ages. He walked the tired earth in a faraway, long ago space and lit the world forever. Your uncreated radiance gleams in every step he took, every word he spoke, every movement of his hands to bless, to heal, to make whole. In him you reveal the enlightenment of mind and heart that most matters.

Just for today, help me abide in the ancient desire of your heart that I may be alive with the light of your tomorrow. Amen.

-- Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Today’s reading

1 John 2:5-6

“[B]ut whoever obeys his word, truly in this person the love of God has reached perfection. By this we may be sure that we are in him: whoever says, ‘I abide in him,’ ought to walk just as he walked” (1 John 2:5-6).

Prayer

There is no choice, is there, Inescapable One? We each abide in something, either in you or in that which is not you. In either case, we become that in which our heart seeks solace, joy and fulfillment. We are transformed into the image of our abiding, walking according to the music we hear there.

And in either case, you continue to abide, refusing to turn away. You remain as near as our breath, inviting us to find our home in you, eager to teach us how to walk as you walk, to see as you see, to be as you are. And you? You are love, and your love pervades all time and space, holding life and being together, inviting us to abide in you, there to find the home for which our hearts are made.

Today, you privilege me. For today I have abided in relationships where I am accepted and corrected, where I sin and find forgiveness, where I give and receive gifts of grace, welcome, laughter, knowledge and hope. Today, you have made me more human than I was only hours ago. And I have done so little. I simply abide, dwelling in these relationships that I have only because I belong to you.

Now, I finish my day, abiding in gratitude for having stumbled into those abiding places you intend for me where, again, I learn to walk. Thank you. Someday I just may get it right. Amen.

--Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, February 26, 2007

Today’s reading

1 John 2:5-6

“[B]ut whoever obeys his word, truly in this person the love of God has reached perfection. By this we may be sure that we are in him: whoever says, ‘I abide in him,’ ought to walk just as he walked” (1 John 2:5-6).

Prayer

My soul is not simple, pure and perfect. I am complex, divided and in pain. This day I thank you for the pain, for it is purest evidence of your presence, your love within this messy soul so far from the perfection of love you intend.

Walk as you walked. I see your walk, my Jesus: blessing children, healing human brokenness with a word and touch, showering compassion on hungry crowds who seek you for much more than bread, suffering rejection for the sake of a world you so completely and irrationally love. A parade of exquisite images runs through my mind. Each brings tears, for you shimmer with an eternal beauty for which my heart has ached since I was small and had no words to speak my hidden hunger.

I have known your walk in my own flesh. There are moments when you, O Blessed Beauty, glisten in words of blessing and healing bubbling from depths of soul where you and I are not two but one. Only then, being perfected in love, is my heart pure, my soul filled with the joy of simplicity, which filled your own soul, my brother. Until then, we are both in pain.

For your joy, my Jesus, is to walk your walk with my feet, my arms and legs, bringing in me the perfection of your love. Grant today, that I may dwell in awareness of your unspeakable love for me that I may learn to walk, as if for the first time. Amen.

--Pastor David L. Miller

Friday, February 23, 2007

Today’s reading

1 John 2:3-5

“Now by this we may be sure that we know him, if we obey his commandments. Whoever says, ‘I have come to know him,’ but does not obey his commandments, is a liar, and in such a person the truth does not exist; but whoever obeys his word, truly in this person the love of God has reached perfection” (1 John 2:3-5).

Prayer

You render me a liar, great and constant. For I know you, and I know you are love. I know your command is that which you are and which you give. For you are love, and you give the love you are, bathing and soaking me to the soul, sometimes so fully I wonder if ever again I will speak a cross word, or allow impatience to overwhelm me, or surrender to disordered impulses, or awake in the wee hours filled with anxiety about my life.

But all too soon, the moment of truth fades. Too soon, I live the lie again. I turn from the drenching awareness of your unspeakable goodness to the petty concerns and desires of my pusillanimous heart. Mine is not a great heart, vast and expansive like yours. I am cramped and crowded, leaving little room for anything but me. And it gets lonely here.

So enlarge my heart, Spacious One. Make room in me for all that you love and all you would have me love. Soak my soul in the ceaseless flow of your divine affection. Only this releases my heart’s constriction and grows my soul to truly human proportions. Only this can make me less a liar. Only this enables me keep your commandment to receive and be the love you are.

Whatever else you might share of your goodness, Great Heart, grant me this, for I long to be human. Amen.

--Pastor David L. Miller

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Today’s reading

1 John 2:1-2

“My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the world” (1 John 2:1-2).

Prayer

For the sins of the world? Is anything big enough to cover this? Is there a heart sufficient to hold them all?

“My heart,” I hear you say. “I hold it all in my immensity, enveloping the sorrowful rebellion of billions in a cloud of belovedness. All that happens … happens in me. I hold it all. I cover it all. I love it all. I heal it all. Bring it all, all that you are, all that has been. It is all in me anyway.”

Blessed Jesus, in your flesh you reveal the truth of every age and life, the dark and holy mystery human eyes cannot penetrate. In your body, we see: the Blessed One unites every corruption of creation with infinite love and constant compassion, holding, bearing and engulfing all that contradicts the loving intention of the divine heart.

Holy Mystery, you take all that is into the inestimable vastness of your heart. It is your desire that nothing should suffer separateness from your boundless joy. For this is your joy, to unite our failed humanity with your love, absorbing bitter human pain and sin into the healing dance of love that is your triune life.

The expansive wonder of your heart holds all that is--and me. May this truth be my vision. Amen.

--Pastor David L. Miller

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Today’s reading

1 John 2:1-2

“My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world” (1 John 2:1-2).

Prayer

Enduring Love, you abide here, with and in us, constantly inviting us to fellowship in your eternal kindness. But our sin isolates our hearts in a cocoon of loneliness that consumes our souls. We turn from you to live by our own devices and strengths, failing to know your nearness.

Little wonder that often we feel so alone. We turn from the mystery of Love Abiding to our own way, fleeing the depth of our hearts, where you invite us to rest in you who long to cherish, to welcome, to fill our emptiness with the fullness of a heart that knows only to love.

Sin tears at our togetherness. It breaks holy fellowship in which we share all, life and fear, mercy and pain, gentleness and joy, confusion and questions.

Still, you abide, constantly inviting us to fellowship with you and your beloved community that we might share all that we are—especially our broken and confused hearts—and know ourselves as you know us, wandering but wanted, torn but treasured, and always yours.

Your love abides, Lord Jesus, constantly calling us home. We offer our sins to you knowing that in your love they become the road to intimacy with you, whom we most need. Amen.

--Pastor David L. Miller

Monday, February 19, 2007

Today’s reading

1 John 1:8-10

“If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us” (1 John 1:8-10).

Prayer

Our lives are constantly barrier or bridge, dearest Holy Mystery. Even our sins are a barrier or bridge. When we hide them our hearts freeze, trapped behind walls of fear and deception. When we confess them the walls about our heart fall flat and become the bridge we walk into intimacy with you who are always near, waiting for us to come home where you may share the mercy that is your life.

You are our home, and your word indwelling our souls speaks the truth of our heart--and of yours. Listening to you, we at once know both you and our own voice, authentic and real, speaking the truth: that we are sinners, failed and fallen, that we are mortal, anxious and fearful, and that we are yours, wanted and welcomed, constantly, by your faithful, unfailing presence.

Help us to listen and love the truth you speak to and in us, even when that truth seems unkind or cutting, even when you tell us what we don’t want to hear. More than anything else, we need your truth, your word--you-- to abide in us that our hearts may rest and find life in you.

We need to know you ever near, within the mystery of our own hearts. So let us hear and receive the truth your word speaks that we may enjoy your presence in us, loving us and welcoming us home. Amen.

--Pastor David L. Miller

Friday, February 16, 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. 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

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

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

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

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

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