Today's text
John 3:17
For God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but so that through him the world might be saved.
Prayer
We are so unlike you, Loving Mystery.
How much time do we spend a day, a week, a year … judging? What is breakdown in my words--70 percent blessing and 30 percent judging? The other way around? Do I bless more souls on an average day than I wound?
And every judgment flows from the seeping wounds of ego. Our anxious, unfulfilled selves, knowing we are barely lovable, seek acceptability in every judgment we pass as we try to reassure ourselves that we are okay, or at least better than the targets of our verdicts.
A young man walks into a classroom in a quiet college town and randomly kills, seven dead now. And I wonder: is this his judgment on the world, on himself? Is it the radical acting out of sick, wounded ego succumbing to final despair?
I don’t know. I just know, my Lord, that our judgments do no good. They don’t help … anyone. When we judge we don’t convince our hearts that we are okay, while others are not. It is but a knowing lie we tell ourselves. A lie that continues the wounding of your world, leaving lacerated souls in our wake, who, in their own place and way, act out their wounds. And the whole ugly cycle goes on.
Except for you, you break the cycle. You enter our world not to judge (we already have plenty of that) but to save those who cannot end the wounding cycle.
You come to us with the blessing of free forgiveness and warm inclusion into the embrace of your love. That love embraces the dead and the killers, the wounded and the wounding, the grieving, the confused and the outraged.
And in that love we find the freedom to give up our judging ways. For you heal the wounds that drive us to wound.
So grant us grace, Loving Mystery, to rest in that love for which we have no concepts, and end, as best we can, the whole ugly cycle.
Pr. David L. Miller
http://prayingthemystery.blogspot.com/
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Friday, February 15, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Today's text
John 3:13-17
No one has gone up to heaven except the one who came down from heaven, the Son of man; as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so must the Son of man be lifted up so that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him. For this is how God loved the world: he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. For God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but so that through him the world might be saved.
Prayer
I want to be John’s editor, Dear Friend. He needs to adjust his tense.
‘This is how God loved’? Really, John, you miss your opportunity to transform our vision. You pull your punch, failing to say without qualification what is clearly your intent.
Just come out and say it: Not this is how God loved, but this is how God loves, eternally and without surcease. The loving is not once and done, but from first dawn of morning to our final gasping breath, and eternally beyond.
Beyond time. Beyond space. Beyond being and nonbeing. Beyond the immensity of this universe. Beyond the yawning dark stretch of freezing space. Beyond human misery, cruelty and apathy.
Beyond all that we are, all that has happened to us or ever will. Beyond it all: You love and keep on loving.
And not this or that: but this world, the messy, dirty, disordered one that plops in my driveway each morning when the paper boy makes his round.
You love this world and gave not this or that, but the life you are. All for our taking.
And it goes on forever, the life and the love.
Together, may we know them today.
Pr. David L. Miller
John 3:13-17
No one has gone up to heaven except the one who came down from heaven, the Son of man; as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so must the Son of man be lifted up so that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him. For this is how God loved the world: he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. For God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but so that through him the world might be saved.
Prayer
I want to be John’s editor, Dear Friend. He needs to adjust his tense.
‘This is how God loved’? Really, John, you miss your opportunity to transform our vision. You pull your punch, failing to say without qualification what is clearly your intent.
Just come out and say it: Not this is how God loved, but this is how God loves, eternally and without surcease. The loving is not once and done, but from first dawn of morning to our final gasping breath, and eternally beyond.
Beyond time. Beyond space. Beyond being and nonbeing. Beyond the immensity of this universe. Beyond the yawning dark stretch of freezing space. Beyond human misery, cruelty and apathy.
Beyond all that we are, all that has happened to us or ever will. Beyond it all: You love and keep on loving.
And not this or that: but this world, the messy, dirty, disordered one that plops in my driveway each morning when the paper boy makes his round.
You love this world and gave not this or that, but the life you are. All for our taking.
And it goes on forever, the life and the love.
Together, may we know them today.
Pr. David L. Miller
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Today's text
John 3:5-8
Jesus replied: In all truth I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born through water and the Spirit; what is born of human nature is human; what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be surprised when I say: You must be born from above. The wind blows where it pleases; you can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.
Prayer
The wind blows where it wills, where you will, Blessed One. And it blows here.
Fingers over the keys, perched and waiting for words to flow from inmost source, the heart fills and overflows. Peace prevails. Love bubbles.
And again I know the wordless truth you are.
I have nothing to say; no words will do. Nothing can be said beyond gratitude for the awareness that You Are. You Are this life that comes and fills the heart making me new as gentle music fills the room and lightness my body.
I know your delight: to fill all you love with this life and lightness of being, that all may join the dance of your love in time and space.
The wind of your life blows from an eternal desire to carry all of us off in its flow. Impermeable boundaries of race and religion, nation and clan cannot stop you. The holy wind passes through them all, seeking every crack and opening. And we cannot stop it.
For you blow even through the corridors of this heart, coming unbidden by anything save your love for me.
Pr. David L. Miller
John 3:5-8
Jesus replied: In all truth I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born through water and the Spirit; what is born of human nature is human; what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be surprised when I say: You must be born from above. The wind blows where it pleases; you can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.
Prayer
The wind blows where it wills, where you will, Blessed One. And it blows here.
Fingers over the keys, perched and waiting for words to flow from inmost source, the heart fills and overflows. Peace prevails. Love bubbles.
And again I know the wordless truth you are.
I have nothing to say; no words will do. Nothing can be said beyond gratitude for the awareness that You Are. You Are this life that comes and fills the heart making me new as gentle music fills the room and lightness my body.
I know your delight: to fill all you love with this life and lightness of being, that all may join the dance of your love in time and space.
The wind of your life blows from an eternal desire to carry all of us off in its flow. Impermeable boundaries of race and religion, nation and clan cannot stop you. The holy wind passes through them all, seeking every crack and opening. And we cannot stop it.
For you blow even through the corridors of this heart, coming unbidden by anything save your love for me.
Pr. David L. Miller
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Today's text
John 3:1-4
There was one of the Pharisees called Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews, who came to Jesus by night and said, 'Rabbi, we know that you have come from God as a teacher; for no one could perform the signs that you do unless God were with him.' Jesus answered: In all truth I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above. Nicodemus said, 'How can anyone who is already old be born?
Prayer
Morning comes. The sun has not yet split the darkness and sent it scurrying into the far corners where it waits it’s time. And I? I am new, born again, from on high.
I walk into this space and decades of encrustation fall from the soul. Unburdened by the weight of yesterday or the freight of fear, no anxiety or regret grips the heart, which flies so free tears fall.
And why? I don’t care. Analysis distances the soul from your sweet gift. Basking is better. Resting is best, sitting enveloped in the cloud of newness that makes the heart young.
I have known young and old. And I know they have nothing to do with the calendar page. I have closed death’s eyes of souls eternally young, fresh and supple even in dying. And I have wearied under the cynical weight of hearts from whom enthusiasm and expectation had long fled, though youth endured.
How can anyone who is already old be born fresh and new? I don’t know how, only who.
I enter your nearness, and my heart knows only morning. Dear Friend, may I grow old with a morning heart.
Pr. David L. Miller
John 3:1-4
There was one of the Pharisees called Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews, who came to Jesus by night and said, 'Rabbi, we know that you have come from God as a teacher; for no one could perform the signs that you do unless God were with him.' Jesus answered: In all truth I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above. Nicodemus said, 'How can anyone who is already old be born?
Prayer
Morning comes. The sun has not yet split the darkness and sent it scurrying into the far corners where it waits it’s time. And I? I am new, born again, from on high.
I walk into this space and decades of encrustation fall from the soul. Unburdened by the weight of yesterday or the freight of fear, no anxiety or regret grips the heart, which flies so free tears fall.
And why? I don’t care. Analysis distances the soul from your sweet gift. Basking is better. Resting is best, sitting enveloped in the cloud of newness that makes the heart young.
I have known young and old. And I know they have nothing to do with the calendar page. I have closed death’s eyes of souls eternally young, fresh and supple even in dying. And I have wearied under the cynical weight of hearts from whom enthusiasm and expectation had long fled, though youth endured.
How can anyone who is already old be born fresh and new? I don’t know how, only who.
I enter your nearness, and my heart knows only morning. Dear Friend, may I grow old with a morning heart.
Pr. David L. Miller
Monday, February 11, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Today's text
John 3:1-4
There was one of the Pharisees called Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews, who came to Jesus by night and said, 'Rabbi, we know that you have come from God as a teacher; for no one could perform the signs that you do unless God were with him.' Jesus answered: In all truth I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above. Nicodemus said, 'How can anyone who is already old be born? Is it possible to go back into the womb again and be born?'
Prayer
No one can see the kingdom … . No, and yet Nicodemus, hiding in the cloak of night, sees and knows you, Jesus. He knows that you stand in the presence of the All-Merciful One. He sees, but doesn’t know that or what he sees.
Yet, his soul is being born from God. The birth pangs have begun; new birth is in process or he would not—he could not—know that you are from God, with God.
He cannot yet know that the blessed future of God’s determined promise already appears right before him. The Spirit has not yet worked such sight that he may see and be born anew to the mystery of your rule that stands looking him in the eye. For you bring the delight of God’s heart to human space and time.
Would that we, too, could see it, and see it always and in all things.
But we cannot: unless, of course, we are born anew, from on high, so that with illumined and confounded eyes we witness the delight of God’s desire coming true in our midst, in the eyes and souls of those we walk quickly by, in the entangled circumstances of our days.
So many things block our vision, most notably our disbelief that you, O Loving One, should bring your kingdom to circumstances of our lives for which we have long stopped hoping for redemption and transformation.
So give us hope to believe that believing we may see, and seeing that may share in your holy kingdom, here and now where we least expect it.
Pr. David L. Miller
John 3:1-4
There was one of the Pharisees called Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews, who came to Jesus by night and said, 'Rabbi, we know that you have come from God as a teacher; for no one could perform the signs that you do unless God were with him.' Jesus answered: In all truth I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above. Nicodemus said, 'How can anyone who is already old be born? Is it possible to go back into the womb again and be born?'
Prayer
No one can see the kingdom … . No, and yet Nicodemus, hiding in the cloak of night, sees and knows you, Jesus. He knows that you stand in the presence of the All-Merciful One. He sees, but doesn’t know that or what he sees.
Yet, his soul is being born from God. The birth pangs have begun; new birth is in process or he would not—he could not—know that you are from God, with God.
He cannot yet know that the blessed future of God’s determined promise already appears right before him. The Spirit has not yet worked such sight that he may see and be born anew to the mystery of your rule that stands looking him in the eye. For you bring the delight of God’s heart to human space and time.
Would that we, too, could see it, and see it always and in all things.
But we cannot: unless, of course, we are born anew, from on high, so that with illumined and confounded eyes we witness the delight of God’s desire coming true in our midst, in the eyes and souls of those we walk quickly by, in the entangled circumstances of our days.
So many things block our vision, most notably our disbelief that you, O Loving One, should bring your kingdom to circumstances of our lives for which we have long stopped hoping for redemption and transformation.
So give us hope to believe that believing we may see, and seeing that may share in your holy kingdom, here and now where we least expect it.
Pr. David L. Miller
Friday, February 08, 2008
Friday, February 8, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 4:5-7
The devil then took him to the holy city and set him on the parapet of the Temple. If you are Son of God,' he said, 'throw yourself down; for scripture says: He has given his angels orders about you, and they will carry you in their arms in case you trip over a stone.' Jesus said to him, 'Scripture also says: Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'
Prayer
Why do I seek you in the morning?
Each day I come, begging the blessing that is in your hand, praying for myself and my beloved, this day for the health of an unborn grandson, dwelling perhaps under threat even in the warmth of my daughter’s womb.
Save them. Save them both, I pray. Bring us to the day of celebration.
But I know: Knowing you is no guarantee that the wings of your desire will carry me and mine unscathed by the blows and grief that comes to every life. Neither our faith nor your love saves us from the pains of being what we are: human, fragile, mortal.
We cannot coerce you into violating the dictates of your creation with your own promise of enduring compassion. We cannot use your word to stave off the consequences of our folly or fragility.
Your grace invites us not to test your love but to trust it in the darkness. To hold it fast in the shadow lands of mortal existence, and to know: You are, and You are Love, and we shall know You.
So I seek you in the morning.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 4:5-7
The devil then took him to the holy city and set him on the parapet of the Temple. If you are Son of God,' he said, 'throw yourself down; for scripture says: He has given his angels orders about you, and they will carry you in their arms in case you trip over a stone.' Jesus said to him, 'Scripture also says: Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'
Prayer
Why do I seek you in the morning?
Each day I come, begging the blessing that is in your hand, praying for myself and my beloved, this day for the health of an unborn grandson, dwelling perhaps under threat even in the warmth of my daughter’s womb.
Save them. Save them both, I pray. Bring us to the day of celebration.
But I know: Knowing you is no guarantee that the wings of your desire will carry me and mine unscathed by the blows and grief that comes to every life. Neither our faith nor your love saves us from the pains of being what we are: human, fragile, mortal.
We cannot coerce you into violating the dictates of your creation with your own promise of enduring compassion. We cannot use your word to stave off the consequences of our folly or fragility.
Your grace invites us not to test your love but to trust it in the darkness. To hold it fast in the shadow lands of mortal existence, and to know: You are, and You are Love, and we shall know You.
So I seek you in the morning.
Pr. David L. Miller
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 4:1-4
Then Jesus was led by the Spirit out into the desert to be put to the test by the devil. He fasted for forty days and forty nights, after which he was hungry, and the tester came and said to him, 'If you are Son of God, tell these stones to turn into loaves.' But he replied, 'Scripture says: Human beings live not on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.'
Prayer
If you are the Son of God … . Temptations come and go, Dear Friend, and all of them attack our identity. Who am I? Am I really who others say of me, or what I myself think? And is this word or act consonant with who I am? Or does it express a stranger foreign to my own soul?
And this soul that is me: What is it if not an expression of your word, your act, your purpose?
Made by and through your loving word I live (truly and only) on every word you speak. Living outside your word I dwell in the shadow lands of despair and confusion, where I do not know the truth with which you would fill me so that I know and become your loving delight. You are that truth.
So I will listen to you tell me who I am: sinner forgiven, fallen but friend, fool but cherished, mortal but beloved for eternity, confused but claimed, despairing but ever held in your loving delight.
Your word, your encompassing compassion gets the last word over me every time. I am yours, beloved, even as Jesus, my brother and Lord. Let me throw that into the damnedable teeth of every temptation that comes.
And for the sake of your grace, tell me again who I am that, like my brother Jesus, I may never forget.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 4:1-4
Then Jesus was led by the Spirit out into the desert to be put to the test by the devil. He fasted for forty days and forty nights, after which he was hungry, and the tester came and said to him, 'If you are Son of God, tell these stones to turn into loaves.' But he replied, 'Scripture says: Human beings live not on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.'
Prayer
If you are the Son of God … . Temptations come and go, Dear Friend, and all of them attack our identity. Who am I? Am I really who others say of me, or what I myself think? And is this word or act consonant with who I am? Or does it express a stranger foreign to my own soul?
And this soul that is me: What is it if not an expression of your word, your act, your purpose?
Made by and through your loving word I live (truly and only) on every word you speak. Living outside your word I dwell in the shadow lands of despair and confusion, where I do not know the truth with which you would fill me so that I know and become your loving delight. You are that truth.
So I will listen to you tell me who I am: sinner forgiven, fallen but friend, fool but cherished, mortal but beloved for eternity, confused but claimed, despairing but ever held in your loving delight.
Your word, your encompassing compassion gets the last word over me every time. I am yours, beloved, even as Jesus, my brother and Lord. Let me throw that into the damnedable teeth of every temptation that comes.
And for the sake of your grace, tell me again who I am that, like my brother Jesus, I may never forget.
Pr. David L. Miller
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 6:5-6
'And when you pray, do not imitate the hypocrites: they love to say their prayers standing up in the synagogues and at the street corners for people to see them. In truth I tell you, they have had their reward. But when you pray, go to your private room, shut yourself in, and so pray to your Father who is in that secret place, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.
Prayer
There are no more precious moments of life than those I spend in your nearness, Loving Mystery. I know: I always stand in your nearness, for we are never separate from you. Separation from you is the abyss of non-being.
But I live too many of my moments in the shadow land, lacking sweet awareness of the love that surrounds and envelops me every moment. Too often the soul sleeps, unconscious of the Hidden Ground of Love who, moment-to-moment, breathes me into being.
You are that Hidden Ground, ever in the shadows but ever there. And stopping even for a moment I know you there by secret intuition, without seeing a thing.
I am a different soul when I live aware; free and full, generous and present I am, calm (as I can be) and certain of the One I need to live.
Prayer is the exquisite wonder of entering awareness of the Love who breathes me and all life, who surrounds and envelops, embraces and abides.
A rare gift, prayer. And you give it for our joy. How dare we profane it for some lesser purpose than abiding with you? May I honor you daily with truest prayer from a heart of gratitude.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 6:5-6
'And when you pray, do not imitate the hypocrites: they love to say their prayers standing up in the synagogues and at the street corners for people to see them. In truth I tell you, they have had their reward. But when you pray, go to your private room, shut yourself in, and so pray to your Father who is in that secret place, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.
Prayer
There are no more precious moments of life than those I spend in your nearness, Loving Mystery. I know: I always stand in your nearness, for we are never separate from you. Separation from you is the abyss of non-being.
But I live too many of my moments in the shadow land, lacking sweet awareness of the love that surrounds and envelops me every moment. Too often the soul sleeps, unconscious of the Hidden Ground of Love who, moment-to-moment, breathes me into being.
You are that Hidden Ground, ever in the shadows but ever there. And stopping even for a moment I know you there by secret intuition, without seeing a thing.
I am a different soul when I live aware; free and full, generous and present I am, calm (as I can be) and certain of the One I need to live.
Prayer is the exquisite wonder of entering awareness of the Love who breathes me and all life, who surrounds and envelops, embraces and abides.
A rare gift, prayer. And you give it for our joy. How dare we profane it for some lesser purpose than abiding with you? May I honor you daily with truest prayer from a heart of gratitude.
Pr. David L. Miller
Monday, February 04, 2008
Monday, February 4, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 6:1-4
Be careful not to parade your uprightness in public to attract attention; otherwise you will lose all reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give alms, do not have it trumpeted before you; this is what the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win human admiration. In truth I tell you, they have had their reward. But when you give alms, your left hand must not know what your right is doing; your almsgiving must be secret, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.
Prayer
You call me beyond myself to that which I cannot do, Jesus. You invite me to unitive action, to utter oneness, so that I am fully absorbed, totally given to where I am and what I am doing—with no part of me left over to watch or judge.
So seldom is this true for me. My heart is not one but divided, fractured, given in part to the person or matter at hand while other parts stand back, watching, judging or carefully observing the reactions of others.
I hunger for one thing, to be one thing, to do one thing: to be where I am, doing what I am doing, fully absorbed, totally given, my consciousness undivided and pure, willing but one thing.
I wake from my bed in the early hours, focused and ready. Yet quickly, again, unforeseen circumstances and needful demands frazzle focus and splinter the mind. Attention scatters; the heart divides; peace flees, and again I am more part of this world’s brokenness than of its healing.
So at this mid-day, recollect my heart and mind, drenching them again in the ocean of your graciousness. For there I rest knowing only One … you.
Then, again, if only for a little while, I can be where I am, doing what I am doing, one with you and finally with myself, giving this recollected heart to each task of the day, absorbed in your love.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 6:1-4
Be careful not to parade your uprightness in public to attract attention; otherwise you will lose all reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give alms, do not have it trumpeted before you; this is what the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win human admiration. In truth I tell you, they have had their reward. But when you give alms, your left hand must not know what your right is doing; your almsgiving must be secret, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.
Prayer
You call me beyond myself to that which I cannot do, Jesus. You invite me to unitive action, to utter oneness, so that I am fully absorbed, totally given to where I am and what I am doing—with no part of me left over to watch or judge.
So seldom is this true for me. My heart is not one but divided, fractured, given in part to the person or matter at hand while other parts stand back, watching, judging or carefully observing the reactions of others.
I hunger for one thing, to be one thing, to do one thing: to be where I am, doing what I am doing, fully absorbed, totally given, my consciousness undivided and pure, willing but one thing.
I wake from my bed in the early hours, focused and ready. Yet quickly, again, unforeseen circumstances and needful demands frazzle focus and splinter the mind. Attention scatters; the heart divides; peace flees, and again I am more part of this world’s brokenness than of its healing.
So at this mid-day, recollect my heart and mind, drenching them again in the ocean of your graciousness. For there I rest knowing only One … you.
Then, again, if only for a little while, I can be where I am, doing what I am doing, one with you and finally with myself, giving this recollected heart to each task of the day, absorbed in your love.
Pr. David L. Miller
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 17:1-7
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain by themselves. There in their presence he was transfigured: his face shone like the sun and his clothes became as dazzling as light. And suddenly Moses and Elijah appeared to them; they were talking with him. Then Peter spoke to Jesus. 'Lord,' he said, 'it is wonderful for us to be here; if you want me to, I will make three shelters here, one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.' He was still speaking when suddenly a bright cloud covered them with shadow, and suddenly from the cloud there came a voice which said, 'This is my Son, the Beloved; he enjoys my favor. Listen to him.' When they heard this, the disciples fell on their faces, overcome with fear. But Jesus came up and touched them, saying, 'Stand up, do not be afraid.'
Prayer
‘Listen,’ you say. ‘Listen.’ And to whom? To him whom you name ‘Beloved.’ And by whom? By you who do not love but who is Love Itself.
You set my heart to hear the voice of the one Beloved of Love Illimitable.
And what can possibly come from your mouth, O Beloved? We cannot know or predict. Such love is ever beyond us. We know but this: There is one thing that you cannot do … not love.
You cannot do that, Beloved, for that would contradict your nature and the Mystery who illumines and shines from your core.
So I will listen to you, knowing that what I hear flows from a depth of love for me that I cannot fathom, believing that whatever befalls me I will fall nowhere outside you, trusting that even your hard call to suffer in your cause is laced with the love that shines eternally from your belovedness.
Today, Dear One, let me live in the light of your love that I may hear you and stand beyond my fears.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 17:1-7
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain by themselves. There in their presence he was transfigured: his face shone like the sun and his clothes became as dazzling as light. And suddenly Moses and Elijah appeared to them; they were talking with him. Then Peter spoke to Jesus. 'Lord,' he said, 'it is wonderful for us to be here; if you want me to, I will make three shelters here, one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.' He was still speaking when suddenly a bright cloud covered them with shadow, and suddenly from the cloud there came a voice which said, 'This is my Son, the Beloved; he enjoys my favor. Listen to him.' When they heard this, the disciples fell on their faces, overcome with fear. But Jesus came up and touched them, saying, 'Stand up, do not be afraid.'
Prayer
‘Listen,’ you say. ‘Listen.’ And to whom? To him whom you name ‘Beloved.’ And by whom? By you who do not love but who is Love Itself.
You set my heart to hear the voice of the one Beloved of Love Illimitable.
And what can possibly come from your mouth, O Beloved? We cannot know or predict. Such love is ever beyond us. We know but this: There is one thing that you cannot do … not love.
You cannot do that, Beloved, for that would contradict your nature and the Mystery who illumines and shines from your core.
So I will listen to you, knowing that what I hear flows from a depth of love for me that I cannot fathom, believing that whatever befalls me I will fall nowhere outside you, trusting that even your hard call to suffer in your cause is laced with the love that shines eternally from your belovedness.
Today, Dear One, let me live in the light of your love that I may hear you and stand beyond my fears.
Pr. David L. Miller
Monday, February 4, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 6:1-4
Be careful not to parade your uprightness in public to attract attention; otherwise you will lose all reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give alms, do not have it trumpeted before you; this is what the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win human admiration. In truth I tell you, they have had their reward. But when you give alms, your left hand must not know what your right is doing; your almsgiving must be secret, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.
Prayer
You call me beyond myself to that which I cannot do, Jesus. You invite me to unitive action, to utter oneness, so that I am fully absorbed, totally given to where I am and what I am doing—with no part of me left over to watch or judge.
So seldom is this true for me. My heart is not one but divided, fractured, given in part to the person or matter at hand while other parts stand back, watching, judging or carefully observing the reactions of others.
I hunger for one thing, to be one thing, to do one thing: to be where I am, doing what I am doing, fully absorbed, totally given, my consciousness undivided and pure, willing but one thing.
I wake from my bed in the early hours, focused and ready. Yet quickly, again, unforeseen circumstances and needful demands frazzle focus and splinter the mind. Attention scatters; the heart divides; peace flees, and again I am more part of this world’s brokenness than of its healing.
So at this mid-day, recollect my heart and mind, drenching them again in the ocean of your graciousness. For there I rest knowing only One … you.
Then, again, if only for a little while, I can be where I am, doing what I am doing, one with you and finally with myself, giving this recollected heart to each task of the day, absorbed in your love.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 6:1-4
Be careful not to parade your uprightness in public to attract attention; otherwise you will lose all reward from your Father in heaven. So when you give alms, do not have it trumpeted before you; this is what the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win human admiration. In truth I tell you, they have had their reward. But when you give alms, your left hand must not know what your right is doing; your almsgiving must be secret, and your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.
Prayer
You call me beyond myself to that which I cannot do, Jesus. You invite me to unitive action, to utter oneness, so that I am fully absorbed, totally given to where I am and what I am doing—with no part of me left over to watch or judge.
So seldom is this true for me. My heart is not one but divided, fractured, given in part to the person or matter at hand while other parts stand back, watching, judging or carefully observing the reactions of others.
I hunger for one thing, to be one thing, to do one thing: to be where I am, doing what I am doing, fully absorbed, totally given, my consciousness undivided and pure, willing but one thing.
I wake from my bed in the early hours, focused and ready. Yet quickly, again, unforeseen circumstances and needful demands frazzle focus and splinter the mind. Attention scatters; the heart divides; peace flees, and again I am more part of this world’s brokenness than of its healing.
So at this mid-day, recollect my heart and mind, drenching them again in the ocean of your graciousness. For there I rest knowing only One … you.
Then, again, if only for a little while, I can be where I am, doing what I am doing, one with you and finally with myself, giving this recollected heart to each task of the day, absorbed in your love.
Pr. David L. Miller
Friday, January 25, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 4:17-22
From then onwards Jesus began his proclamation with the message, 'Repent, for the kingdom of Heaven is close at hand.' As he was walking by the Lake of Galilee he saw two brothers, Simon, who was called Peter, and his brother Andrew; they were making a cast into the lake with their net, for they were fishermen. And he said to them, 'Come after me and I will make you fishers of people.' And at once they left their nets and followed him. Going on from there he saw another pair of brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John; they were in their boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. And at once, leaving the boat and their father, they followed him.
Prayer
These words are so spare. They tell me nothing of what went through their minds, or yours, Jesus, as they trundled along behind you. What did they feel? What did they expect to find? What did they want to happen? Or were their minds a mass of conflicting impulses stirred by the hunger to escape their old life?
I don’t know why they came. There is no apparent reason in these simple words. And I can’t imagine they thought they were leaving home for good, as “at once” they came.
And then from depths of consciousness comes your whisper, “And you? Why are you still here?”
Some days I find it hard to answer. In that, I suppose, I am no different than Peter and Andrew and all the rest. Why am I here? What do I want?
And there it is. They, too, came because of their wants, their desires. We fly to you on the wings of our desires, Jesus.
And mine? I find in you the face of a mystery to which I want to draw near. And why? Because in its presence my soul grows quiet, and I become myself, a self I know at no other time, knowing myself lovingly encompassed by Unnamable Mystery.
So I am still here. I don’t follow all that well. But there are moments when what has captured me captures another through what is in me. And then I know quite well why I am here.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 4:17-22
From then onwards Jesus began his proclamation with the message, 'Repent, for the kingdom of Heaven is close at hand.' As he was walking by the Lake of Galilee he saw two brothers, Simon, who was called Peter, and his brother Andrew; they were making a cast into the lake with their net, for they were fishermen. And he said to them, 'Come after me and I will make you fishers of people.' And at once they left their nets and followed him. Going on from there he saw another pair of brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John; they were in their boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. And at once, leaving the boat and their father, they followed him.
Prayer
These words are so spare. They tell me nothing of what went through their minds, or yours, Jesus, as they trundled along behind you. What did they feel? What did they expect to find? What did they want to happen? Or were their minds a mass of conflicting impulses stirred by the hunger to escape their old life?
I don’t know why they came. There is no apparent reason in these simple words. And I can’t imagine they thought they were leaving home for good, as “at once” they came.
And then from depths of consciousness comes your whisper, “And you? Why are you still here?”
Some days I find it hard to answer. In that, I suppose, I am no different than Peter and Andrew and all the rest. Why am I here? What do I want?
And there it is. They, too, came because of their wants, their desires. We fly to you on the wings of our desires, Jesus.
And mine? I find in you the face of a mystery to which I want to draw near. And why? Because in its presence my soul grows quiet, and I become myself, a self I know at no other time, knowing myself lovingly encompassed by Unnamable Mystery.
So I am still here. I don’t follow all that well. But there are moments when what has captured me captures another through what is in me. And then I know quite well why I am here.
Pr. David L. Miller
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 4:12-17
Hearing that John had been arrested he withdrew to Galilee, and leaving Nazareth he went and settled in Capernaum, beside the lake, on the borders of Zebulun and Naphtali. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: Land of Zebulun! Land of Naphtali! Way of the sea beyond Jordan. Galilee of the nations! The people that lived in darkness have seen a great light; on those who lived in a country of shadow dark as death a light has dawned. From then onwards Jesus began his proclamation with the message, "Repent, for the kingdom of Heaven is close at hand."
Prayer
Let me live within the circle of your illumination, Holy Mystery. And that, indeed, requires a change of mind and a revolution of seeing.
Your rule is close at hand. It is here and now. It is the life of your appearing in the love and care of human hands, the decency of human hearts savoring and sustaining life. For what is your rule, if not the labor of love pushing back the darkness that life may happen, blossoming free and full in all that is?
And all that is about me lives, the faces I see and nature itself, all seeking to live into fullness, alive as all of us are with your breath. Your rule is the fullness of life flowing from the depths of your mystery creating time and history and drawing it all back into your embrace.
So let me see your holy nearness in all that lives. Let me witness your labor of life in the loving determination of all who struggle in small and great ways to enlarge life, so all that lives may breathe fully into the joy you intend. Let me rise up and call them saints, emblems and blessed incarnations of your kingdom, our future.
Let us all see. Then no one will need teach our hearts that the fresh light of tomorrow has dawned. For we will know your rising in the life and love all about us.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 4:12-17
Hearing that John had been arrested he withdrew to Galilee, and leaving Nazareth he went and settled in Capernaum, beside the lake, on the borders of Zebulun and Naphtali. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: Land of Zebulun! Land of Naphtali! Way of the sea beyond Jordan. Galilee of the nations! The people that lived in darkness have seen a great light; on those who lived in a country of shadow dark as death a light has dawned. From then onwards Jesus began his proclamation with the message, "Repent, for the kingdom of Heaven is close at hand."
Prayer
Let me live within the circle of your illumination, Holy Mystery. And that, indeed, requires a change of mind and a revolution of seeing.
Your rule is close at hand. It is here and now. It is the life of your appearing in the love and care of human hands, the decency of human hearts savoring and sustaining life. For what is your rule, if not the labor of love pushing back the darkness that life may happen, blossoming free and full in all that is?
And all that is about me lives, the faces I see and nature itself, all seeking to live into fullness, alive as all of us are with your breath. Your rule is the fullness of life flowing from the depths of your mystery creating time and history and drawing it all back into your embrace.
So let me see your holy nearness in all that lives. Let me witness your labor of life in the loving determination of all who struggle in small and great ways to enlarge life, so all that lives may breathe fully into the joy you intend. Let me rise up and call them saints, emblems and blessed incarnations of your kingdom, our future.
Let us all see. Then no one will need teach our hearts that the fresh light of tomorrow has dawned. For we will know your rising in the life and love all about us.
Pr. David L. Miller
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 4:12-16
Hearing that John had been arrested he withdrew to Galilee, and leaving Nazareth he went and settled in Capernaum, beside the lake, on the borders of Zebulun and Naphtali. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: Land of Zebulun! Land of Naphtali! Way of the sea beyond Jordan. Galilee of the nations! The people that lived in darkness have seen a great light; on those who lived in a country of shadow dark as death a light has dawned.
Prayer
I, too, walk in great darkness, Jesus. My heart daily reveals to me secrets of the darkness I bear. There is no need to recount them here. You know them all, and those who know me must tolerate them all too often. My failures of faith and humanity, my hunger to magnify myself, my fear of being simply me, neither more nor less: I weary of it all. It weighs heavy on the soul.
Truly, I want to be quiet, to assume mere human proportions and be that soul that I am when the light of your presence glows within this heart of mine. Then alone am I human. Then alone do I know who I am. Then alone, the darkness of my soul scatters, driven from musty corridors of mind by light and lightness of heart.
Just naming you here and recalling the light of your presence enlightens my soul and frees me from my self. And another self arises, lifted by the light of your abiding, here in me.
I have no knowledge of how this so instantly happens nor do I need it. I need only you. For the light that shines from you awakens that same illumination in me.
Lighten my darkness, O Lord, I pray. Save us from the night that we may see and be the light of your presence.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 4:12-16
Hearing that John had been arrested he withdrew to Galilee, and leaving Nazareth he went and settled in Capernaum, beside the lake, on the borders of Zebulun and Naphtali. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: Land of Zebulun! Land of Naphtali! Way of the sea beyond Jordan. Galilee of the nations! The people that lived in darkness have seen a great light; on those who lived in a country of shadow dark as death a light has dawned.
Prayer
I, too, walk in great darkness, Jesus. My heart daily reveals to me secrets of the darkness I bear. There is no need to recount them here. You know them all, and those who know me must tolerate them all too often. My failures of faith and humanity, my hunger to magnify myself, my fear of being simply me, neither more nor less: I weary of it all. It weighs heavy on the soul.
Truly, I want to be quiet, to assume mere human proportions and be that soul that I am when the light of your presence glows within this heart of mine. Then alone am I human. Then alone do I know who I am. Then alone, the darkness of my soul scatters, driven from musty corridors of mind by light and lightness of heart.
Just naming you here and recalling the light of your presence enlightens my soul and frees me from my self. And another self arises, lifted by the light of your abiding, here in me.
I have no knowledge of how this so instantly happens nor do I need it. I need only you. For the light that shines from you awakens that same illumination in me.
Lighten my darkness, O Lord, I pray. Save us from the night that we may see and be the light of your presence.
Pr. David L. Miller
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 4:12-16
Hearing that John had been arrested he withdrew to Galilee, and leaving Nazareth he went and settled in Capernaum, beside the lake, on the borders of Zebulun and Naphtali. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: Land of Zebulun! Land of Naphtali! Way of the sea beyond Jordan. Galilee of the nations! The people that lived in darkness have seen a great light; on those who lived in a country of shadow dark as death a light has dawned.
Prayer
Why did you withdraw, Jesus? Did you need space to wonder and worry about John? Were you afraid for yourself? Did you need time to consider your next move, lest it be forced upon you before you could choose a way consonant with your own heart?
It is easy to imagine you there by the lakeshore, staring into the dark water wondering what the Hoy Mystery wants of you now that John has departed the stage. And you must have considered the likelihood of his death. The ways of despots were well known to you.
So you withdrew, but you could never withdraw from yourself, which is good news for us, Jesus. For it did not matter if you drew back or fully engaged the swirling circumstances: You were and remain this living intimacy with Loving Mystery no matter where you were and are.
On Capernaum’s streets, you walked, seeing, talking, eating, drinking, blessing, loving, eternity’s living light shining on whatever darkness dimmed the faces you encountered.
Did they know they were seeing the light of life in your eyes? Some surely caught a glimpse and were moved to want more of you. I have no reason to imagine they were much different from me in that way.
The shadows that darken human life and joy are little changed over the centuries. Yesterday’s sins and fears continue to haunt the heart today, moving us to hope for a freedom of mind and soul that are known only in your presence.
So don’t withdraw from me, Jesus. Be yourself near and in this heart of mine.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 4:12-16
Hearing that John had been arrested he withdrew to Galilee, and leaving Nazareth he went and settled in Capernaum, beside the lake, on the borders of Zebulun and Naphtali. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah: Land of Zebulun! Land of Naphtali! Way of the sea beyond Jordan. Galilee of the nations! The people that lived in darkness have seen a great light; on those who lived in a country of shadow dark as death a light has dawned.
Prayer
Why did you withdraw, Jesus? Did you need space to wonder and worry about John? Were you afraid for yourself? Did you need time to consider your next move, lest it be forced upon you before you could choose a way consonant with your own heart?
It is easy to imagine you there by the lakeshore, staring into the dark water wondering what the Hoy Mystery wants of you now that John has departed the stage. And you must have considered the likelihood of his death. The ways of despots were well known to you.
So you withdrew, but you could never withdraw from yourself, which is good news for us, Jesus. For it did not matter if you drew back or fully engaged the swirling circumstances: You were and remain this living intimacy with Loving Mystery no matter where you were and are.
On Capernaum’s streets, you walked, seeing, talking, eating, drinking, blessing, loving, eternity’s living light shining on whatever darkness dimmed the faces you encountered.
Did they know they were seeing the light of life in your eyes? Some surely caught a glimpse and were moved to want more of you. I have no reason to imagine they were much different from me in that way.
The shadows that darken human life and joy are little changed over the centuries. Yesterday’s sins and fears continue to haunt the heart today, moving us to hope for a freedom of mind and soul that are known only in your presence.
So don’t withdraw from me, Jesus. Be yourself near and in this heart of mine.
Pr. David L. Miller
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Today's text
John 1:35-39
The next day as John stood there again with two of his disciples, Jesus went past, and John looked towards him and said, “Look, there is the lamb of God.” And the two disciples heard what he said and followed Jesus. Jesus turned round, saw them following and said, “What do you want?' They answered, 'Rabbi' - which means Teacher - “where do you live?” He replied, “Come and see;” so they went and saw where he lived, and stayed with him that day. It was about the tenth hour.
Prayer
To our want you direct us, Jesus. But our wants are disordered and conflicting. They are fickle and momentary, following whims not under our control. And we do our best when we dismiss many of the lot as mere wishes of no enduring significance.
Yet, your voice: “What do you want?” And comes the answer, “Where do you live?”
That is my answer, the best one I have. I want to know where you live that I may dwell there with you. For apart from you I do not know life. It’s that simple.
I want to dwell in the places where I can best live near your heart, flowing as it does with the Spirit and life of the Living One. Near you I feel and am alive, thriving with joy and purpose. Hesitance and doubt disappear; energy and love bubble as a spring from depths of soul.
I am tired of death , Jesus. So many days I know more death than life, more lethargy than vitality, more anxiety than hope, more hesitance than faith, more disgust than attraction, more fear than love. But dwelling near the heart of love you are I come alive with the joy that draws me back again and again.
So show us, Dear Friend, where you live amid the common places of our lives. We want to be with you. And we believe your invitation: you want us, too. Always have.
So let us come and see you. Our eyes ache.
Pr. David L. Miller
John 1:35-39
The next day as John stood there again with two of his disciples, Jesus went past, and John looked towards him and said, “Look, there is the lamb of God.” And the two disciples heard what he said and followed Jesus. Jesus turned round, saw them following and said, “What do you want?' They answered, 'Rabbi' - which means Teacher - “where do you live?” He replied, “Come and see;” so they went and saw where he lived, and stayed with him that day. It was about the tenth hour.
Prayer
To our want you direct us, Jesus. But our wants are disordered and conflicting. They are fickle and momentary, following whims not under our control. And we do our best when we dismiss many of the lot as mere wishes of no enduring significance.
Yet, your voice: “What do you want?” And comes the answer, “Where do you live?”
That is my answer, the best one I have. I want to know where you live that I may dwell there with you. For apart from you I do not know life. It’s that simple.
I want to dwell in the places where I can best live near your heart, flowing as it does with the Spirit and life of the Living One. Near you I feel and am alive, thriving with joy and purpose. Hesitance and doubt disappear; energy and love bubble as a spring from depths of soul.
I am tired of death , Jesus. So many days I know more death than life, more lethargy than vitality, more anxiety than hope, more hesitance than faith, more disgust than attraction, more fear than love. But dwelling near the heart of love you are I come alive with the joy that draws me back again and again.
So show us, Dear Friend, where you live amid the common places of our lives. We want to be with you. And we believe your invitation: you want us, too. Always have.
So let us come and see you. Our eyes ache.
Pr. David L. Miller
Friday, January 11, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 3:16-17
And when Jesus had been baptized he at once came up from the water, and suddenly the heavens opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming down on him. And suddenly there was a voice from heaven, “This is my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on him.”
Prayer
An image appears as I pray, Jesus. My prayer is nothing more than this image. I did not summon or conjure it from feeble imagination. It comes of its own accord—or yours, and I hold it before my mind’s eye, savoring the healing joy I see.
We stand in the water of your baptism, soaking wet, you and I—and one more with whom I seek healing. But the image is not that of seeking but of celebrating. We are joined in a tiny circle of three, soaking wet in the river’s current.
And we smile. We laugh, holding each other, circling in the water, united and at peace, in joy. It is you who brings us together, transcending the differences and tensions that fan anxieties and keep us leery of each others intentions.
So tell me: Is this an image of the future? Of my hope? Of yours? Of the grace and communal life to which you invite us?
It is of course all of this and more. It is an image of the holy future into which you draw all of us in the healing waters that swirl about you.
May we stand in the water with you and share your smile.
Grant our hearts gracious calm that we may live into the blessed vision of your future.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 3:16-17
And when Jesus had been baptized he at once came up from the water, and suddenly the heavens opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming down on him. And suddenly there was a voice from heaven, “This is my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on him.”
Prayer
An image appears as I pray, Jesus. My prayer is nothing more than this image. I did not summon or conjure it from feeble imagination. It comes of its own accord—or yours, and I hold it before my mind’s eye, savoring the healing joy I see.
We stand in the water of your baptism, soaking wet, you and I—and one more with whom I seek healing. But the image is not that of seeking but of celebrating. We are joined in a tiny circle of three, soaking wet in the river’s current.
And we smile. We laugh, holding each other, circling in the water, united and at peace, in joy. It is you who brings us together, transcending the differences and tensions that fan anxieties and keep us leery of each others intentions.
So tell me: Is this an image of the future? Of my hope? Of yours? Of the grace and communal life to which you invite us?
It is of course all of this and more. It is an image of the holy future into which you draw all of us in the healing waters that swirl about you.
May we stand in the water with you and share your smile.
Grant our hearts gracious calm that we may live into the blessed vision of your future.
Pr. David L. Miller
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 3:16-17
And when Jesus had been baptized he at once came up from the water, and suddenly the heavens opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming down on him. And suddenly there was a voice from heaven, “This is my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on him.”
Prayer
How do you stand, my Brother? Do you look to the heavens as you receive the pronouncement of divine favor? Or are your eyes down on the water, your head drenched, your shoulders sloping beneath the weight of the words and what they will bring?
Or perhaps you look ahead and smile, enjoying the grace of total union with the Loving Mystery who calls you the Beloved. I don’t know, but I imagine that you smiled at the words. Certainly, there is joy in them.
The voice speaks a mystery beyond us. You are not just any beloved, but the one, the exception to the fracturing that divides all other human hearts. In you the Holy One dwells undiluted, as you sing in perfect rhythm and time with the music of eternity.
Surely, you smile to know such union with the love that made the stars and greens earth. Surely, you must have warmed at the thought of drawing human hearts to the living flame of love that lights you from within. Surely, you imagined the faces of those, like me, who would crowd near you to feel the warmth of abiding with the One who fills you.
So I crowd near and hope many others will, too, that your living flame may melt the brittle ice of our hardness and make us all human, like you.
Warm our community with the living flame of your love.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 3:16-17
And when Jesus had been baptized he at once came up from the water, and suddenly the heavens opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming down on him. And suddenly there was a voice from heaven, “This is my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on him.”
Prayer
How do you stand, my Brother? Do you look to the heavens as you receive the pronouncement of divine favor? Or are your eyes down on the water, your head drenched, your shoulders sloping beneath the weight of the words and what they will bring?
Or perhaps you look ahead and smile, enjoying the grace of total union with the Loving Mystery who calls you the Beloved. I don’t know, but I imagine that you smiled at the words. Certainly, there is joy in them.
The voice speaks a mystery beyond us. You are not just any beloved, but the one, the exception to the fracturing that divides all other human hearts. In you the Holy One dwells undiluted, as you sing in perfect rhythm and time with the music of eternity.
Surely, you smile to know such union with the love that made the stars and greens earth. Surely, you must have warmed at the thought of drawing human hearts to the living flame of love that lights you from within. Surely, you imagined the faces of those, like me, who would crowd near you to feel the warmth of abiding with the One who fills you.
So I crowd near and hope many others will, too, that your living flame may melt the brittle ice of our hardness and make us all human, like you.
Warm our community with the living flame of your love.
Pr. David L. Miller
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 3:13-15
Then Jesus appeared: he came from Galilee to the Jordan to be baptized by John. John tried to dissuade him, with the words, “It is I who need baptism from you, and yet you come to me!” But Jesus replied, “Leave it like this for the time being; it is fitting that we should in this way, do all that uprightness demands.” Then John gave in to him.
Prayer
I see your hand on John’s arm. “Let it be so,” you say. John is confused; your composure complete. You know something that he does not grasp. And you know fully, with all your being, from the virginal point of your soul where you are one with the One who sent you.
You know: righteousness demands you, Jesus, all of you.
You did not need a baptism for forgiveness of sins. And even John says you had a better baptism to give than his own. But you submit calmly, with no fuss or second thought, certain that it is right.
Your certainty moves me. It marks your total surrender to a mission and a way. You give yourself without reserve or condition to the mission of God’s reign, prepared to live a way that allows you to hold nothing back. Even if it means your destruction and pain.
You stand in the stream, utterly given to this Loving Mystery, utterly given to human messiness and rejection for the sake of world to be born. You stand there for me, that I may know the One who is Love Untold.
Grant that I may know that love and share your calm assurance. May I stand with you amid the messiness, the heartache and the joy of serving you, quietly surrendering to your invitation, “Come.”
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 3:13-15
Then Jesus appeared: he came from Galilee to the Jordan to be baptized by John. John tried to dissuade him, with the words, “It is I who need baptism from you, and yet you come to me!” But Jesus replied, “Leave it like this for the time being; it is fitting that we should in this way, do all that uprightness demands.” Then John gave in to him.
Prayer
I see your hand on John’s arm. “Let it be so,” you say. John is confused; your composure complete. You know something that he does not grasp. And you know fully, with all your being, from the virginal point of your soul where you are one with the One who sent you.
You know: righteousness demands you, Jesus, all of you.
You did not need a baptism for forgiveness of sins. And even John says you had a better baptism to give than his own. But you submit calmly, with no fuss or second thought, certain that it is right.
Your certainty moves me. It marks your total surrender to a mission and a way. You give yourself without reserve or condition to the mission of God’s reign, prepared to live a way that allows you to hold nothing back. Even if it means your destruction and pain.
You stand in the stream, utterly given to this Loving Mystery, utterly given to human messiness and rejection for the sake of world to be born. You stand there for me, that I may know the One who is Love Untold.
Grant that I may know that love and share your calm assurance. May I stand with you amid the messiness, the heartache and the joy of serving you, quietly surrendering to your invitation, “Come.”
Pr. David L. Miller
Monday, January 07, 2008
Monday, January 7, 2008
Today's text
Matthew 3:13-15
Then Jesus appeared: he came from Galilee to the Jordan to be baptized by John. John tried to dissuade him, with the words, “It is I who need baptism from you, and yet you come to me!” But Jesus replied, “Leave it like this for the time being; it is fitting that we should in this way, do all that uprightness demands.”
Prayer
What did you see, Jesus, when you came to the river? John’s fiery voice fills the air with denunciations of the powerful and demands for changed lives. The small and great come to him. And he rails at them all, also painting you in terms that don’t seem to fit: a pitchfork in your hand and a heart eager to burn the chaff.
Then you appear, in silence and simplicity. No fanfare, no announcement, no fire. You step from the desert and from among the crowd and crawl down the bank into the water. Or had all the others left John for a while when you appeared? Did all this happen when no one was watching?
I don’t know, but my heart falls silent as I watch you wade toward this wild man. You stand in the muddy stream where all the others stood, assuming no position of privilege, giving yourself to our human messiness.
Giving yourself: that is what I see, surrender to a wild and holy cause. You give yourself not only to us but to the untamed will of the One who burns to bring a kingdom where love displaces threat and fear, and Earth shimmers with divine glory.
And standing in the stream, you extend your hand to me. “Come,” you say. “Stand by me in the messiness.” A gracious and fearful invitation into your way of being.
And I come, again today. Whatever happens, just let me be with you.
Pr. David L. Miller
Matthew 3:13-15
Then Jesus appeared: he came from Galilee to the Jordan to be baptized by John. John tried to dissuade him, with the words, “It is I who need baptism from you, and yet you come to me!” But Jesus replied, “Leave it like this for the time being; it is fitting that we should in this way, do all that uprightness demands.”
Prayer
What did you see, Jesus, when you came to the river? John’s fiery voice fills the air with denunciations of the powerful and demands for changed lives. The small and great come to him. And he rails at them all, also painting you in terms that don’t seem to fit: a pitchfork in your hand and a heart eager to burn the chaff.
Then you appear, in silence and simplicity. No fanfare, no announcement, no fire. You step from the desert and from among the crowd and crawl down the bank into the water. Or had all the others left John for a while when you appeared? Did all this happen when no one was watching?
I don’t know, but my heart falls silent as I watch you wade toward this wild man. You stand in the muddy stream where all the others stood, assuming no position of privilege, giving yourself to our human messiness.
Giving yourself: that is what I see, surrender to a wild and holy cause. You give yourself not only to us but to the untamed will of the One who burns to bring a kingdom where love displaces threat and fear, and Earth shimmers with divine glory.
And standing in the stream, you extend your hand to me. “Come,” you say. “Stand by me in the messiness.” A gracious and fearful invitation into your way of being.
And I come, again today. Whatever happens, just let me be with you.
Pr. David L. Miller
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