March 2, 2015

Mark 6:30-34

The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, ‘Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.’ For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things. 

Come close … and know

Sheep without a shepherd do not know where to find food or safety. So I suppose it is not surprising that these few words are followed by the story of Jesus breaking bread and giving it to the crowd. There was enough for everyone with plenty left over.

That’s the point. Jesus has enough for me, for you, with plenty left over, and the bread he breaks is the teaching, words of truth and grace that come from his depths … and give us his life.

His invitation is the same today as then: “Come close … and know me. You will know a glow of grace that illumines your soul and tells you your life is treasured and safe in the arms of the Mystery who made you and all that is.

“Come close. That which is in me will feed you and fill the empty place within, the lonely place where you do not know who you are or what life is about.

“Come close … and know … there is a love and mystery here that defies every attempt to explain it, a Presence that revives the soul and makes every day fresh and new, filled with hope.”

Life and hope start by coming near, bringing the hunger of our days … and hearing what he says, so the emptiness within may be fed and filled by him.

That’s is why I am here again by radiant candle. It’s an old story by now. I come to be fed, my soul made alive, filled with light and my eyes with tears by this Jesus who looks with compassion not only on crowds long ago but on me.

Every morning he invites me to come close and know. So I pray and write, I read of him and find him, too, in the wonder of full hearts … who know what I know, who know who he is and feel the wonder of what is him.

I come close … so I may always know and never forget.

Pr. David L. Miller

February 25, 2015

Psalm 31:9-10

Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress;
   my eye wastes away from grief,
   my soul and body also. 
For my life is spent with sorrow,
   and my years with sighing;

The secret

Why does the soul ache? For what purpose is this pain except to tell me what I do not and cannot have … peace of heart … at least now?

Is the secret of joy to cease wanting, to kill the desire to know greater beauty, hope … fulfillment?

But how I can kill desire without killing my soul and what beauty is there?

For what am I …what are we … if not desire for More? All of our lives we ache … for welcome, for care, for love, for respect, for beauty … for the joy that completes the heart.

It is you, O Lord, who made us this way. It’s your fault.

You, whose name is Seeking Love, are not content to lose us. So you seek us in every place, writing your love in signs and sky and human lives that we may know and be seduced into loving you.

And we are just like that, just like you, stirred to seek what mind and heart require.

Ancient voices tell me I am not alone. The human heart is little changed as the centuries pass. We are made in the image of Searching Love, created to need, to want and to seek joy and completion.

Our hearts are restless until they rest you. That is the secret—You. We are to rest in you. Everything else in this world disappoints, sooner or later, no matter how good, how rich, how beautiful, how joy-filled.

There is always something More the heart wants … and needs. And those restless hearts of ours, you created as a gift to keep us moving and seeking, hoping and loving until all our restlessness leads us home… to rest … in the Love you are.

Today, draw me into that space where rest can come …so my heart may have what it needs.

Pr. David L. Miller

February 23, 2015

Psalm 65:8

Those who live at earth’s farthest bounds are awed by your signs;
you make the gateways of the morning and the evening shout for joy. 

Signs

It was only a bird …

heard him before I saw him,

calling clear, crisp in frigid air,

a sound out of time,

spring weeks away,

maybe months.

Why are you here little bird

so red, perched high against

bluest sky,

singing your solitary song?

Ah, but I know …

you are here for me,

aren’t you?

For us, really …

stirring hope for spring’s

great love of earth

warming, awakening us

to love the Love

who makes the heart alive

that hope may live

in winter white,

Your song, a sound,

a sign …

at which heart leaps

and knows ... life

and joy are not gone

but live.

Sing your song

little bird,

sing for me, for us.

Your prayer

is better than mine.

It was only a word,

a small one at that—we,

two letters.

What power is this

that bathes the heart

with solace and something

like (could it be?) peace …

and patience that lives

only in hope’s

sweet embrace,

leaping to life at the sound

of a word—we?

We … sings its song, too,

sounding truth that is

and never leaves,

awakening awareness

that this soul is not solitary

but joined, one in

sweet communion,

bound in Love’s embrace,

one heart, not two,

knowledge awakened

by a word,

one word, a small word

fanning hope’s flame

that this day, everyday

can be lived with joy.

Sing your song

little word,

sing for me, for us.

Your prayer is my own.

Signs …

they are everywhere.

Listen. Look. Know.

Pr. David L. Miller

February 21, 2015

Mark 1:35

 In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. 

John 17:20-21

‘I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word,that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.'

I know …

I know why you rose

from sleep, slipping

from the dwelling into

darkness before dawn.

Stepping without sound

in the night watches,

longing for the Love

you sensed in silence,

there to rest, refreshed,

knowing beyond doubt

the Love who is,

Mystery who dwells

not far but near

at soul’s deep center.

Water laps on lake shore,

as you gaze into star light,

pale moon reflecting

on water’s face, sinking

into western sky, its daily

journey near end.

There you sit

not alone, never alone,

knowing always within

this Love, Mystery,

no soul nor sun

can contain, the One

who always is within,

at depth of soul,

interior temple,

waiting for us to come

commune that we may

know and live the lives

of love for which we,

in Love’s Image,

are intended.

You commune in

dark silence, knowing

inner light no darkness

can shut out … ever,

Radiant Love

(of which angels sing),

who dwells in all that is,

deep within, igniting

the flame of hope …

every human soul needs

to carry on,

to live its mission

when days are hard and

future dim, uncertain.

And I sit with you

in early hours, knowing

you stepped into darkness

for the same reason

I come to these keys,

fumbling fingers,

filled with errors,

searching for words

with sounds just right

to speak what is in

this soul …and to it,

heart of heart longing

to know with completeness

what you went out

to feel and know

and there to rest

in the Love who is …

always.

And with tears

and candlelight

I am with you there …

in the silence.

Pr. David L. Miller

February 17, 2015

Mark 1:35-38

 In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found him, they said to him, ‘Everyone is searching for you.’ He answered, ‘Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.’

Into the temple

Gentle chant rises,

reaching for “amen,”

as I wait again for you

to speak, aching …

for you,

for you are the peace

my heart desires

and cannot find.

I follow you into

the dark quiet,

longing to listen

to One who is Life;

sitting with you

in silence, waiting …

to hear echoes of deepest

love, to feel the Presence

of Mystery beyond any

command or control,

Who just is …

there at the heart

of the heart when chatter

of anxious mind falls

away and the soul hears

itself and knows …

it is so much more.

For You are

Abiding Presence within,

formless, hovering, waiting

for us to enter the inner

dwelling, the temple where

you are and are known,

quieting every restlessness,

all tension fading as

we find what the world

of success and failure

cannot give, peace …

passing all understanding,

that comes in the silence

of the deserted place

where we come to hear

and know … you.

Jesus, you left your

quiet place in peace,

knowing this Mystery

whom I can never hold,

yet who is held within

me---not by my choice

or creation--but because

You Are and there is

nothing I can do about it

except to enter the

temple of your dwelling

and know …

what I will never be able

to name.

Pr. David L. Miller 

February 16, 2015

1 Kings 9:11-13

He said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.’ Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?

Silent Voice

Wrapped in a mantle

of silence the prophet

stands humble to hear

the Silent Voice, Being

speaking to inmost being

where truth is known

and the heart hears

what it needs to live

and love, to move and act

knowing for what it is sent.

Wind and fire, storm and

thunder, trembling earth

shake our certainties,

reminding once more

we are for a time only

in this place before we

pass, but for all their fury

these do not close our

mouths and turn us inward

to hear the Voice who

spoke us into being.

In blessed silence

we hear you beyond the

world’s clamor and storm’s

fearsome roar, Deep calling

to deep reminding us that

you want us to hear and

know … you, knowing, too,

the sweet tears that come

only when soul’s depth

is touched.

And these tears?

Joy, each the joy

of knowing you 

want me … that I am 

not and never alone, 

that you who speak 

in silence hunger

to be known by me, 

needing me, too,

for holy purpose

known only in silence

where you speak, sending

me­--uncertain, halting,

wounded and longing--

back into the clamor …

knowing you,

O, Silent Voice,

the Love who speaks

as I lie in the silent darkness.

Pr. David L. Miller