Friday, August 15, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 14:21-28

Jesus left that place and withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. And suddenly out came a Canaanite woman from that district and started shouting, 'Lord, Son of David, take pity on me. My daughter is tormented by a devil.' But he said not a word in answer to her. And his disciples went and pleaded with him, saying, 'Give her what she wants, because she keeps shouting after us.' He said in reply, 'I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.' But the woman had come up and was bowing low before him. 'Lord,' she said, 'help me.' He replied, 'It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to little dogs.' She retorted, 'Ah yes, Lord; but even little dogs eat the scraps that fall from their masters' table.' Then Jesus answered her, 'Woman, you have great faith. Let your desire be granted.' And from that moment her daughter was well again.

Prayer

Two desires meet, and miracles happen. Your heart, Jesus, and the soul of a frightened woman, what have they in common? Only this: a burning desire that creation should live in fullness, in abundance, in wonder, in joy, in wholeness, immersed in the joy of living and loving. Only this.

Her desire echoes your own heart, Jesus. Both of you are transparent (in various degrees, of course) to the Eternal Wonder, the Loving Mystery, revealing the gracious will of eternity for our lives. She knew it; so did you.

Oh, sure, you turned from her. You jousted with clever sayings. You objected that your mission was first to the lost of Israel, not to the dogs doomed to slink about the edges of society.

But how could you turn away a soul who knew what love could do--and demanded it for her child? You couldn’t. She knew what her love was capable of, and she a mere mortal. How much more, then, might mere crumbs of God’s abundance accomplish for her little one?

You saw that, Jesus, and you called it great. But greater still is this: We find in our hearts this same love and desire to be whole and to see your world whole, made so by a love we cannot fathom.

Our hearts, too, are transparent to Eternal Wonder; the seeds of your loving have taken root in us.

So let them grow into something beautiful for you. And perhaps we, too, will shine with the greatness of this woman.

Pr. David L. Miller

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 14:21-28

Jesus left that place and withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. And suddenly out came a Canaanite woman from that district and started shouting, 'Lord, Son of David, take pity on me. My daughter is tormented by a devil.' But he said not a word in answer to her. And his disciples went and pleaded with him, saying, 'Give her what she wants, because she keeps shouting after us.' He said in reply, 'I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.' But the woman had come up and was bowing low before him. 'Lord,' she said, 'help me.' He replied, 'It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to little dogs.' She retorted, 'Ah yes, Lord; but even little dogs eat the scraps that fall from their masters' table.' Then Jesus answered her, 'Woman, you have great faith. Let your desire be granted.' And from that moment her daughter was well again.

Prayer

But not everyone’s desire is granted, Jesus. Many cry to you in the heat of the hell they live. They seek any the least drop of water to cool the torment of souls that know no peace. Even now I name two souls before you in the dark silence of my heart.

But their darkness is deeper still. They grieve, again, new life delivered silent into this world, a life that could have been but which lays still and breathless. She lays there, a little girl who will never know her mother’s soft cheek, her father’s protective embrace. Her parents will never watch her dark hair bounce in the sunlight as she runs across a playground.

How many times must they go through this? How long, O Lord, must they suffer and mourn? How long before their love embraces the new life you allow men and women to make from their love? How long before their hearts can hope and sing again?

I do not understand this. Why should those who abuse children, your little ones, be allowed to have them, and these two cannot, though love is their nature?

All we have are questions, pain, disappointment and the frustration of seeing you heal a child in response to her mother’s pleas. But we pled; many pled for the life of this one now lost. But there was no answer, or none we wanted.

What are we to do? Where are we to go? There is no one but you who can console the hearts of those who mourn, and there is no one who can hold this tiny, lifeless child in the arms of eternity’s grace. No one, but you.

So hold this child, Jesus, and hold us, too. Surround these parents with the comfort of a love that will not quit. For we will not stop insisting; we will not be turned away unsatisfied. Be for us the love you are. Make that love happen, here, now.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 14:21-28

Jesus left that place and withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. And suddenly out came a Canaanite woman from that district and started shouting, 'Lord, Son of David, take pity on me. My daughter is tormented by a devil.' But he said not a word in answer to her. And his disciples went and pleaded with him, saying, 'Give her what she wants, because she keeps shouting after us.' He said in reply, 'I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.' But the woman had come up and was bowing low before him. 'Lord,' she said, 'help me.' He replied, 'It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to little dogs.' She retorted, 'Ah yes, Lord; but even little dogs eat the scraps that fall from their masters' table.' Then Jesus answered her, 'Woman, you have great faith. Let your desire be granted.' And from that moment her daughter was well again.

Prayer

Did you mean it when you called her a dog, Jesus? Or was this play and a ploy? We play with words all the time, joking, mock insults, verbal jousting, all to see who can be most clever. Such banter is well understood among friends, the better the friend the more rapid the repartee.

But this woman was not your friend, Jesus. She was an outsider, an undesirable. She had no place at the table of God’s grace. The abundance of blessing intended for God’s chosen was not hers to claim. She could only skulk beneath the table hoping for a few crumbs.

I am not sure how this amounts to great faith. But I see the surprised pleasure and amazement on your face as you wheel about and proclaim the greatness of what is in her. That look is real to me as my fingers on these keys.

So, too, is the constancy and fidelity I see in her. She stays put even when it is hard, hoping even expecting that some good, some blessing, maybe even something amazing can yet happen.

And it does: Because even the crumbs from the table of your abundance are enough for us, whoever we are, wherever we go.

Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, August 11, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 14:21-28

Jesus left that place and withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. And suddenly out came a Canaanite woman from that district and started shouting, 'Lord, Son of David, take pity on me. My daughter is tormented by a devil.' But he said not a word in answer to her. And his disciples went and pleaded with him, saying, 'Give her what she wants, because she keeps shouting after us.' He said in reply, 'I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.' But the woman had come up and was bowing low before him. 'Lord,' she said, 'help me.' He replied, 'It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to little dogs.' She retorted, 'Ah yes, Lord; but even little dogs eat the scraps that fall from their masters' table.' Then Jesus answered her, 'Woman, you have great faith. Let your desire be granted.' And from that moment her daughter was well again.

Prayer

I love this woman, Jesus. She does nothing to deny the human state. To be human is to need, and there is no denial in her, no attempt to hide the crying want at the core of her being, no phony presumption, no charade.

You should recognize her need, Jesus. It is the same one that moved you. Her need is shaped by a burning love for a child, a child who could not know the abundance of life and joy you intend--that love and life we would deny ourselves to give to our little ones.

You know that love, Jesus. It is the purest fire of burning desire. And it this of which your heart is composed, unsullied by anything less.

It this why you toyed with her? To see if it were real in her, too? To draw from her depths what you suspected was there? To provoke a loving heart to reveal the love that is its life and pain?

I don’t know. But I am certain it is love that kept her pushing on despite your rebuff. It is love that considered personal insult of no consequence in the face of her beloved’s need. And it is love that knows that even the crumbs of God’s love are more than enough for us.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, August 6, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 14:22-27

And at once he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side while he sent the crowds away. After sending the crowds away he went up into the hills by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, while the boat, by now some furlongs from land, was hard pressed by rough waves, for there was a head-wind. In the fourth watch of the night he came towards them, walking on the sea, and when the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. 'It is a ghost,' they said, and cried out in fear. But at once Jesus called out to them, saying, 'Courage! It's me! Don't be afraid.'

Prayer

You must have said it, Jesus. The words are so real, immediate and convincing, “It’s me! Don’t be afraid.”

I hear the echo of other voices, familiar and near. “Don’t be afraid, Benjamin. It’s Grandma. Nothing is going to hurt you. I’ve got you now.”

Simple words these, the kind one speaks to a frightened child who wakes to find himself in an unfamiliar bed. We speak them quickly but softly to dissipate fear. Distress must not endure for more than a moment, not for our beloved.

And these are words spoken to a beloved whose safety and joy are the delight of our heart.

So tell me, Jesus, is becoming a grandfather merely a giant ruse you use to teach me love--and to show me how you love me?

If so, it works pretty well. Thank you.

Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, August 5, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 14:22-27

And at once he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side while he sent the crowds away. After sending the crowds away he went up into the hills by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, while the boat, by now some furlongs from land, was hard pressed by rough waves, for there was a head-wind. In the fourth watch of the night he came towards them, walking on the sea, and when the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. 'It is a ghost,' they said, and cried out in fear. But at once Jesus called out to them, saying, 'Courage! It's me! Don't be afraid.'

Prayer

The contrast catches me, Jesus. You abide in solitude; your friends are caught in the wind, rowing hard, making little headway. You rest; they work. You are at peace; they are slaves to fruitless labor. One might say you are a slacker compared with them, disappearing when there’s work to be done.

Still, I’d rather be with you. I weary of straining against the wind, even when I think I am doing so for you.

Much of the fight and struggle was worn out of me years ago. Now, I want to rest in the places where you are near to me, even as you sought the face of the Loving Mystery in private. You fled the noise of human assembly that you might hear that gentle inner stirring that told you who you are and what you are to do.

I long for that silence with you. It is the source of such courage and hope as I have. And it strikes me that your command, “courage,” comes out of the silence. It is spoken from a quiet heart that knows the Silent Presence in whom all things are. Listening in the silence, you know what we need to know: threat is illusion; fear is fantasy, for we are enveloped in an all-confounding Love whom we cannot name.

That’s what you knew in the silence. I hunger to know it as well as you.

Pr. David L. Miller

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 14:15-21

When evening came, the disciples went to him and said, 'This is a lonely place, and time has slipped by; so send the people away, and they can go to the villages to buy themselves some food.' Jesus replied, 'There is no need for them to go: give them something to eat yourselves.' But they answered, 'All we have with us is five loaves and two fish.' So he said, 'Bring them here to me.' He gave orders that the people were to sit down on the grass; then he took the five loaves and the two fish, raised his eyes to heaven and said the blessing. And breaking the loaves he handed them to his disciples, who gave them to the crowds. They all ate as much as they wanted, and they collected the scraps left over, twelve baskets full. Now about five thousand men had eaten, to say nothing of women and children.

Prayer

You gave the bread and fish to your companions. The bread is in our hands, Jesus. You give us the substance of your life to be shared with those who hunger.

We hunger, Jesus. We are the hungry crowd and the hands who distribute your fullness. Both. At once. And we never cease to hunger for very long. We never stop wanting and needing to be fed. We receive your life and love only to grow empty and hollow at heart again.

We need those with eager hands who can give us the substance of your life that the vitality of your joyous freedom and abundance may fill us. Filled and lifted into life, you make our hands eager to share the bounty we find in you. And then we hunger again and await your great giving.

We live in a great circle of hunger, sharing and life that continues for us as long as we draw breath. And it all starts and ends in you. It begins in the splendid abundance of your divine generosity. It ends, finally, in the fullness of life when we will hunger no more.

But for now, never let us forget our state. We have no life in ourselves without you. Apart from your nearness joy and vitality quickly fade. We hunger and we need. We receive and we share. That is how the circle works. So let us never deny our need or the hands and places that feed us.

It is blessed way you make for us, Jesus. For even our crying and wants and needs are holy. They lead us to you. Blessed is the want, holy the hunger that drags me home.

Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 14:15-21

When evening came, the disciples went to him and said, 'This is a lonely place, and time has slipped by; so send the people away, and they can go to the villages to buy themselves some food.' Jesus replied, 'There is no need for them to go: give them something to eat yourselves.' But they answered, 'All we have with us is five loaves and two fish.' So he said, 'Bring them here to me.' He gave orders that the people were to sit down on the grass; then he took the five loaves and the two fish, raised his eyes to heaven and said the blessing. And breaking the loaves he handed them to his disciples, who gave them to the crowds. They all ate as much as they wanted, and they collected the scraps left over, twelve baskets full. Now about five thousand men had eaten, to say nothing of women and children.

Prayer

‘Bring them to me.’ Are there any more gracious words you might say to us, Jesus? I know of none.

But I want to bring you not bread or fish, but me. I bring myself to you. Do what you will with what I am and have.

I see your hands as you receive the bread, the fish. Dust folds into the creases of your palms. Calluses cracked and brown frame your fingers. These are hands that have been outdoors most of your years, far from Mary’s watchful eye.

There is no hurry in you as you receive the gifts; no anxiety possesses or consumes your heart. There is time for grace and gratitude, reverence and love for the gifts of earth that lie gentle in your open hands, hands that know how to receive without grasping.

Looking to heaven, you bless bread, yes. But you bless God more, for the rich goodness of earth and the secret intimacy at your depths which you are soon to reveal.

How can I not love you? You are a portrait of the Holy Mystery that lies hidden also in my soul. It waits for you to bless me and release the beauty of the loving grace I see as I watch you.

So I deliver myself into your hands in obedience to your command, ‘Bring them to me.’ Receive and bless me with grace and gratitude, reverence and love, then hand me to the world that your beloved may eat.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 14:15-17

When evening came, the disciples went to him and said, 'This is a lonely place, and time has slipped by; so send the people away, and they can go to the villages to buy themselves some food.' Jesus replied, 'There is no need for them to go: give them something to eat yourselves.' But they answered, 'All we have with us is five loaves and two fish.'

Prayer

‘All’ the word rings in my mind from too many speakings.

So it is, my Brother, we are possessed by our insufficiency. All I have is … . The message is clear. I haven’t enough. It is too little, too small, too weak to do what is needed.

The words mirror our souls. We spend our days looking at ourselves, reinforcing our fears. And our fears intensify our focus on our smallness. It is all a self-reinforcing circle.

If only we looked first to you, Jesus, we would see the lavishness of your love and break free from the circle of our anxieties. Our hearts would no longer be possessed by our insufficiency. Instead, we’d ask, ‘What would you have us do with the gifts you have put in our hands? Where will your unbounded love take us? What does it move us to be and to do?

You call us far beyond, ‘All we have … ’ to ‘this you have given; … what now?’

That question leads to adventures of which we can’t see the ending. Except we trust and know: It all ends in you, in the love you are.

So free us from our insufficiency. Set our eyes on the all-sufficiency of a love that possesses our every moment.

Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, July 28, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 14:13-14

When Jesus received this news he withdrew by boat to a lonely place where they could be by themselves. But the crowds heard of this and, leaving the towns, went after him on foot. So as he stepped ashore he saw a large crowd; and he took pity on them and healed their sick.

Prayer

A mystery rests in our souls, Jesus. No, the mystery is our soul. It is the mystery of desire, of wanting.

We are fashioned around a center of burning want that no act of will or discipline can escape or deny. We are our want.

That is how the Loving Mystery created us. You made us to want, and our desire is the most beautiful thing about us. It is also the most ugly and frightening when it turns from its intended object.

Our inescapable inborn desire insists on relationship and nurture from our mothers when we are infants. It moves us to crave the human nearness that provides protection of body and spirit. Desire drags us from isolation into the lives, hearts and arms of others so that we may be truly human.

Want also moves us to you, Jesus. There are a several reasons why a first century crowd in Palestine might have sought you: curiosity, fear of the diseases that haunted their families, hunger, anger at the political forces that oppressed them.

But beneath and preceding all such historical reasons is this desire, this want for more that moves us to seek that which satisfies the heart, gives it rest and fulfills its purpose. We didn’t create this craving. You did. We cannot slake this desire. You can.

So we come to you as did the crowds: wanting. Seldom can we give a name to our desire. We only know that we need you. So we come. Let us know you that our hearts may find healing and home.

Pr. David L. Miller

Friday, July 25, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 13:47-51

'Again, the kingdom of Heaven is like a dragnet that is cast in the sea and brings in a haul of all kinds of fish. When it is full, the fishermen bring it ashore; then, sitting down, they collected the good ones in baskets and throw away those that are no use. This is how it will be at the end of time: the angels will appear and separate the wicked from the upright, to throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and grinding of teeth. 'Have you understood all these?' They said, 'Yes.'

Prayer

There is no doubt, Jesus; I am more comfortable with the net than the fire. I like your seeking but fear your judgment.

Your seeking consoles me, and it makes sense of this restless soul, ever hungry for a connection it cannot make. Yes, your seeking I know. It is a fever in my blood, a deep yearning in my bones. And it is you, your Spirit seeking and drawing me home.

You cast your net wide to capture the very soul of the universe you have made, a universe alive with your soul, your breath. As am I.

But at the fullness of time not all enter the joy of your nearness, not all enjoy the connection of their heart with your own, not all finally come home to you the source of their soul. And this is sadness.

Sometimes I think it is a sadness you will not bear, that at the end you will have all that is and all will know the joy for which you intended them. Everything will come to the fullness of your life, and you will not allow any to be lost. That’s what I want. But you seem to say I am wrong.

Still, I pray for the salvation of all that is. I pray for the total joy of your universe and every soul in it.

I pray not only for others, but for myself. For all too well, I know: parts of me are not good or upright. Wickedness remains in this soul. So I pray, have your way Jesus. Save us all and all of us.

In all things, may your mercy prevail.

Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 13:44-46

'The kingdom of Heaven is like treasure hidden in a field which someone has found; he hides it again, goes off in his joy, sells everything he owns and buys the field. 'Again, the kingdom of Heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls; when he finds one of great value he goes and sells everything he owns and buys it.

Prayer

We all give our substance for something, Jesus. We surrender what is of lesser value to possess life, or at least what our heart imagines will give us life. But if we don’t have you, our desires have taken us on a road to nowhere.

You are the treasure in the field. You are the pearl of great price. You are the life of all that lives. You are the satisfaction of our heart’s desire.

To belong to you, to your rule, is dwell in the embrace of the Love from whom all things burst into being. It is to know satisfaction for the soul’s restless craving for more.

I can never know you enough. I remain ever dissatisfied--and will, until every part of me is saturated with the knowledge of you.

Lead me. Take my feet to the places where I meet and know you as well as this soul can. I grow weary of the longing for more, more love, more life, more hope, more freedom, more of you. Take me there and give me the unfettered freedom to throw my life into your embrace.

My heart craves a treasure not made with hands. And there is still so much I have yet to give you before I can truly live. How the heart aches to be given away for that which is true treasure.

Pr. David L. Miller

July 22, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 13:31-33

He put another parable before them, 'The kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed which a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the biggest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air can come and shelter in its branches. He told them another parable, 'The kingdom of Heaven is like the yeast a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour till it was leavened all through.

Prayer

You do not care much for appearances, do you Jesus? The large, the impressive, the great, the unusual--these categories hold little attraction for you.

You are captured by the small, the insignificant, the weak, the unimpressive and unpromising. For you the small is great; the weak are strong; the insignificant holds the secret of the universe.

And what is more insignificant than an iterant preacher who is arrested, taken from his rag tag followers, and executed by the authorities under the absurd charge of sedition? Certainly, you were small, insignificant in the world of the powerful and important, and weak, having no force but your words.

You sowed those words, and they could not be killed, not then or now. They took root and grew into a harvest of faith, of hope and love in the life of the world and the soil of our souls.

Nothing can kill this seed and the verdant growth of eternal life they produce even now in our lives. I don’t know Jesus: is our faith the tree that grows from your seed, giving rest to our sols and the lives of all who find shelter in your love growing with us?

Or is the tree that grows your kingdom, your rule, in which we and all life is invited to find shelter. Perhaps both ideas work.

I know only that the seed that was sown grows, and it provides shelter for this soul, a soul in which others, too, have found rest and shelter. And that thought makes me smile, for I know that your seed has had its way also in me.

May it always be so … that your joy and mine may be complete.

Pr. David L. Miller

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 13:36-43

Then, leaving the crowds, he went to the house; and his disciples came to him and said, 'Explain to us the parable about the darnel in the field.' He said in reply, 'The sower of the good seed is the Son of man. The field is the world; the good seed is the subjects of the kingdom; the darnel, the subjects of the Evil One; the enemy who sowed it, the devil; the harvest is the end of the world; the reapers are the angels. Well then, just as the darnel is gathered up and burnt in the fire, so it will be at the end of time. The Son of man will send his angels and they will gather out of his kingdom all causes of falling and all who do evil, and throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and grinding of teeth. Then the upright will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Anyone who has ears should listen!

Prayer

We await your promise, Jesus. You will complete what you have started, and all that causes falling and all that is evil will be gone.

We can’t imagine such a world. We watch the morning news, and we know: If it bleeds, it leads. Headline news is tragic news, bad news, sorrowful news, news laced with tears and struggle. That’s what first attracts our attention and too much of our conversation.

But you invite another way. Amid the bad news, amid the struggle of living entangled in the life’s inevitable weeds, raise your eyes and hope. Raise your hopes and praise. Raise your praise to the sower of the seed. For even now the seed pushes and strains to the harvest--even in the depths of your soul.

That one, the Holy Mystery, the Loving God, will bring in a harvest of life beyond imagining. Even now it stirs in your heart. Rejoice, there is nothing to fear. The harvest comes.

Pr. David L. Miller

July 16, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 13:36-43

Then, leaving the crowds, he went to the house; and his disciples came to him and said, 'Explain to us the parable about the darnel in the field.' He said in reply, 'The sower of the good seed is the Son of man. The field is the world; the good seed is the subjects of the kingdom; the darnel, the subjects of the Evil One; the enemy who sowed it, the devil; the harvest is the end of the world; the reapers are the angels. Well then, just as the darnel is gathered up and burnt in the fire, so it will be at the end of time. The Son of man will send his angels and they will gather out of his kingdom all causes of falling and all who do evil, and throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and grinding of teeth. Then the upright will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Anyone who has ears should listen!

Prayer

Judgment comes, but not just at the end of the age. It comes now.

It arrives with each moment of awareness in which I realize (again) that I have not lived the love which you sow in the soil of this soul. I have judged harshly, contributing to the great volume of hard-hearted lovelessness that fills the world, turning our teeth on edge and teaching (again) that distrust is wisdom and suspicion is prudent. All of which leaves us poorer.

The seed you sow is good. It grows into a harvest of beautiful soul and gracious care for your world. Like waves of wheat swaying in the wind, we are your growing field, swaying with the currents of your Spirit, a gorgeous dance of life and love. And yet, the darnel, the weeds are sown in our souls, too. And too soon we depart the dance and march to the beat of our anger, fear and woundedness, contributing poisonous fruit to a world already toxic.

So are we, Jesus, those to be gathered in the fire for burning? Or will the seed of your life grow despite the weeds? May we yet be the fruit of your good seed, shining like the sun? What have you to say to us, the mixed fruit?

Water the seed, you say. It will grow into the beauty of my harvest, and you will know it in yourselves. Listen. The power of my love is in the seed.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 13:1-9

[Jesus] put another parable before them, 'The kingdom of Heaven may be compared to a man who sowed good seed in his field. While everybody was asleep his enemy came, sowed darnel all among the wheat, and made off. When the new wheat sprouted and ripened, then the darnel appeared as well. The owner's laborers went to him and said, "Sir, was it not good seed that you sowed in your field? If so, where does the darnel come from?" He said to them, "Some enemy has done this." And the laborers said, "Do you want us to go and weed it out?" But he said, "No, because when you weed out the darnel you might pull up the wheat with it. Let them both grow till the harvest; and at harvest time I shall say to the reapers: First collect the darnel and tie it in bundles to be burnt, then gather the wheat into my barn."


Prayer

I listen, Jesus, and you ask me a question: How do you see?

Your meaning is clear enough. Do you see the beauty of the wheat swaying in the wind, having burst from the cramped confines of the seed? Or do you see the weeds blemishing the scene, unwelcome interruptions amid the tall grain aglow in summer sun.

Perhaps you see both. But if so, does your heart brim with hope as you celebrate the promise of the seed’s growth, or does the presence of weeds spoil it for you? Do your eyes move more quickly to the ugly tangle of ragged weeds than to the beauty of life and hope?

How do you see? You ask again. And your meaning is clear.

You call me to repent and see as you see. You invite us to enter the world of your kingdom, eager to witness your beauty amid the tangled raggedness of life.

And seeing, we rest in the hope. For the seed of your gracious rule will grow into its proper harvest, in us and in our world, in us. Joy lies ever at hand for those who perceive it.

So open our eyes, Lord.

Pr. David L. Miller

Monday, July 14, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 13:1-9

[Jesus] put another parable before them, 'The kingdom of Heaven may be compared to a man who sowed good seed in his field. While everybody was asleep his enemy came, sowed darnel all among the wheat, and made off. When the new wheat sprouted and ripened, then the darnel appeared as well. The owner's laborers went to him and said, "Sir, was it not good seed that you sowed in your field? If so, where does the darnel come from?" He said to them, "Some enemy has done this." And the laborers said, "Do you want us to go and weed it out?" But he said, "No, because when you weed out the darnel you might pull up the wheat with it. Let them both grow till the harvest; and at harvest time I shall say to the reapers: First collect the darnel and tie it in bundles to be burnt, then gather the wheat into my barn."


Prayer

Ever-Present Grace, this is how I shall name you this morning. I have no names suitable for you. The best I can do is to speak what you are to me, and thus to know you in the speaking. And you are Ever-Present Grace.

You also are a sower. Every second you sow seeds of faith and love in our lives, yielding a harvest of freedom and joy. But our moments also sow seeds of cynicism, fear and hard-heartedness.

In the supremacy of your divine freedom, you create us to bear the seed of your life to fruition, growing into the full harvest of what you intend for us. We do not know what that is. It lies hidden in the seed. We know only that we will bear resemblance to our brother, Jesus, glistening with the compassion of your divine grace.

And this is all your doing, Loving Mystery. You are the mysterious power of the seed, and I take courage I this.

For, I look at the tangled snarl of my life, unable to determine with confidence what is good and what is not, what is your seed and what yields the foul fruit of cynicism and fear.

But I will not worry, since you command me to turn from anxiety and rest in hope. The seed you sow in love and freedom will yield the loving joy you are.

Pr. David L. Miller

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 13:1-9

That same day, Jesus left the house and sat by the lakeside, but such large crowds gathered round him that he got into a boat and sat there. The people all stood on the shore, and he told them many things in parables. He said, 'Listen, a sower went out to sow. As he sowed, some seeds fell on the edge of the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Others fell on patches of rock where they found little soil and sprang up at once, because there was no depth of earth; but as soon as the sun came up they were scorched and, not having any roots, they withered away. Others fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Others fell on rich soil and produced their crop, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Anyone who has ears should listen!'

Prayer

I pray, my Lord, for the seed of your gracious kingdom that I have sown, begging also for the faithful sowing of your beloved of every time and place.

Grant that your seed my take root in the souls of those we have touched in your name that they may come to faith and know you, and that knowing you they may love and serve you.

The seed we sow bears the power of your resurrected life. It finds soil, sprouts and grows. But in the weariness of life and grief, struggle and trial, the youthful plant withers so that we find no life in the preaching of your word and the worship of your glory.

Tempted by dryness, many fall to despair or apathy, some who are near and dear to our hearts. But dearer still to yours.

Grant awareness of your unfailing love to those who feel nothing of your nearness. Restore to them the joy of your salvation.

And if they must wait a time to know your presence, grant them hope that the seed of your life within them has not died.

Empower us also for that task of uplifting the weary that we may be the arms of your gracious embrace.

Pr. David L. Miller

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 13:1-9

That same day, Jesus left the house and sat by the lakeside, but such large crowds gathered round him that he got into a boat and sat there. The people all stood on the shore, and he told them many things in parables. He said, 'Listen, a sower went out to sow. As he sowed, some seeds fell on the edge of the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Others fell on patches of rock where they found little soil and sprang up at once, because there was no depth of earth; but as soon as the sun came up they were scorched and, not having any roots, they withered away. Others fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Others fell on rich soil and produced their crop, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty Anyone who has ears should listen!'

Prayer

I wonder Jesus, did you look over the crowd and hope?

I hope. I hope everyday to meet hearts and minds where the seed of your kingdom has grown into the beauty of love and the joy of wonder. I hope to be surprised by souls in which I meet and know you.

I hope because I know the power hidden in the seed of a love that dies and rises again. Knowing this, I watch for the beauty of your life secretly growing in the garden of your creation.

It doesn’t look like much of a garden on some days. A tangle of weeds, brambles and thorns seem to overwhelm the luscious promise of spring. But still I see the signs of the seed: a shared laughter, a knowing look, a small kindness, a love that refuses to be repressed, souls who humanize their tiny corner of creation though no one else may notice.

I notice, and I know I am not alone. Your seed grows into a new creation wherever it finds a bit of soil to sprout.

It grows even amid the tangled bramble of my confused soul, making the mess easier to bear. In fact, I have come to laugh at myself more. And there are plenty of failures and oddities there for my amusement. But I think the laughter is a sign of faith. I believe my real life is hidden in the seed of a love that dies and rises … and grows into your tomorrow.

Pr. David L. Miller

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Today’s text

Matthew 13:1-9

That same day, Jesus left the house and sat by the lakeside, but such large crowds gathered round him that he got into a boat and sat there. The people all stood on the shore, and he told them many things in parables. He said, 'Listen, a sower went out to sow. As he sowed, some seeds fell on the edge of the path, and the birds came and ate them up. Others fell on patches of rock where they found little soil and sprang up at once, because there was no depth of earth; but as soon as the sun came up they were scorched and, not having any roots, they withered away. Others fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Others fell on rich soil and produced their crop, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty Anyone who has ears should listen!'

Prayer

I give you thanks, almighty God, for the miracle of growth. Everywhere the seed you sow
is imperiled. Yet, I look into my soul and the souls of your beloved and find the wonder
of faith, the fire of hope, the beauty of love.

You say nothing about the sower. Is he anxious about the seed? Does she fear nothing
will grow and that her labor will be in vain, a chasing after the wind? Does he fear that
storms and infestation will destroy the crop before harvest?

No, you say nothing. This is like no farmer I have ever known, and I’ve known more than
a few.

You know what we struggle to believe: the power of your life is in the seed.

Believing this shouldn’t be a problem. A simple gaze into my own heart evokes enough
wonder to bring tears. For growing there is hope I did not plant, a love I did not create, a
faith in the gracious power of your life.

A simple gaze within reveals all I need to know. The seed you plant grows into the
harvest of the love you are. So we sow and rejoice in the miracle of a seed that grows.

Pr. David L. Miller