Remember Your Hill; Ezekiel 37:1-14

 

Rev. George Miller

Dec 7, 2025

Ezekiel 37:1-14

 

There is a memory I have; one that has always carried me through.

 

Growing up on Long Island, when it snowed, we went to a hill off the Long Island Expressway.

 

This was in the 70’s and 80’s at a time when folks didn’t worry so much about safety.  Whole families would be there, and their dogs, a truck selling hot cocoa, and cars driving by. 

 

Without a care, we’d walk up that snow-covered hill, place our sleds down, and whooshed down the hill at incredible speeds, careful not to end up in the service road.

 

Then you did it again and again.  Up and down; whoosh and stop.  Dogs running free.  Hot cocoa waiting for you at the bottom of the hill.  Parents taking photos.

 

Everyone wearing snow suits, being cold and sweating at the same time; snowflakes sticking to your skin, the sky filled with the sounds of laughter and glee.

 

Some used the round shaped snow saucers with the handles on the side. Or the Flexible Flyer with the rope you held onto and metal cross bar you steered with your feet. 

 

The toboggans long and slender, meant to hold multiple kiddos, so fast, impossible to steer, leading to tip-over, wipe outs, and “watch-out!” when you hit a bump.

 

I remember how we all became imaginary engineers, creating chains of sleds, holding onto one another like trains going downhill.

 

Heaven: nature sisters brothers mothers fathers friends strangers neighbors dogs snowflakes hot cocoa all coming together to make a memory, creating a sense of hope and peace when remembered.

 

A memory when things were just right, even if the danger of fast cars was nearby and the walk up that hill could seem so arduous.

 

But that woosh, that journey down that hill was so worth it.

 

One of the key phrases of the Bible is “remember”, appearing nearly 300 times

 

Psalm 77 speaks of remembering  how the Lord lead the people through the Red Sea, designed to give us hope when we come across a seemingly unsolvable situation.

 

Psalm 119:52 says “I remember your instructions…O LORD, and find comfort in them,” bringing a sense of peace into our existence when things seem unsteady.

 

Hope and peace are two of the Advent candles we lit today.  Hope gives us a path to walk upon as we journey Back to Bethlehem;  Peace provides the rhythm and pace.

 

Hope and peace are like hills we set our eyes upon that let us know we are closer to reexperiencing Emmanuel; the miracle of God taking flesh and being among us.

 

Though today’s reading places us in a valley of dry bones, we are going to talk about hills. 

 

Ezekiel speaks to the people of Judah who were kidnapped and living in Babylon. 

 

They came from a land of hills and vineyards, their Temple sat upon a mountain that sparkled in the sun. 

 

Now, where they live, everything is flat.  Devoid of purple and red grapes, and silvery green grapes. 

 

Instead of hills that are alive with life, they are seeing flat, treeless horizons.  And their hearts mourn.

 

So before discussing the dry bones, Ezekiel talks of mountains. In chapter 36, he does his best to fill them with hope and peace.

 

“Guess what!” he says to them.  “God has a message for the hills and waterways.  God has a word of hope and peace for the mountains and valleys of Isreal,.”

 

Oh, what it must have been like for the kidnapped people of Isreal to hear these words of restoration!

 

“One day, the mountains that you miss, the hills that now lay bare, will grow again.  There will be branches, and fruit.”

 

Ezekiel shares this hope-filled, peaceful vision of one day the people journeying back.

 

God will be with you.  Your land will flourish, your families grow; God will reunite the nations.

 

God says “I will gather you from throughout the world; clean you with water.  A new heart and spirit will dwell inside you.  I will feed you with grain of the field and fruit of the tree, and your sins will no longer have a hold over you.”

 

The final image is of the people being an expanding flock; beloved sheep of the Lord.

 

Upon reading Ezekiel 36, all I can think of is Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

 

It’s like Ezekiel is saying “Remember your future.” 

 

Remember your future so that you can exist during this moment and you can find glimmers of hope and peace in this time and place.

 

It becomes a perfect lead-in to the image of dry bones gathered in the valley; bones that come from lost dreams and difficult times.

 

After being told to speak to the mountains and remind folk that one day the hills will be alive, Ezekiel speaks life into what has been seen as death; to bravely imagine that God’s breath can resurrect what was lost.

 

It is good to be reminded that the God who parted the waters of the Red Sea is the same God who can raise what is dry and despondent.

 

To Remember.  A grand thing to do as we journey back to Bethlehem.

 

Today, take a moment and think about a hill in your life.

 

Think about a hill where you experienced joy, you experienced peace.  Think of a hill that when you recall it, it gives you hope.

 

Could be a hill you’ve been to; a hill you’ve visited with family, a date, a vacation.  It can be small it can be big.

 

In the back of your bulletin, name that hill.  Jot down the memory.  Maybe you want to draw an image, create a hashtag, design a meme.

 

Now, we are invited to gently tear that spot from the page, treating it like the treasure it is.

 

You are invited to carry that hill moment with you as we journey back to Bethlehem, a reminder of how good life can be.

 

Let this image of that that hill be a way for you a way to think about what Jesus means for us, and what we expect to find when we make our way to the manger.

 

A memory of hope; a memory of peace.  May the mountains shout may the rivers sing.  May the hills come alive knowing that soon Jesus Christ will be born.    

 

Amen.

Go. Shine. Be You. Daniel 1:1-17

 

Rev. George Miller

Nov 30, 2025

Daniel 1:1-17

 

Woe to St. Lucas, a church of true sport fans.  Blues, Battlehawks, Cardinals.

 

Those who cheer for the Chiefs; Bulls, Bucks, Lakers, or Celtics. 

 

Conversations ignited by asking Mizzou, SLU, or Fighting Illini?

 

Woe to St. Lucas because you called a pastor whose sport of choice is Miss Universe.  That’s my Stanley Cup and Superbowl.

 

Miss Universe is huge in the gay and Latin Community.  You don’t have to worry about how the game is played, how to figure out the points, or keep asking the rules.

 

Miss Universe is attitude, glamour, great hair, diversity, and drama. 

 

On Nov 4, Miss Mexico and others walked out in protest when an official called her “dumb.”

 

Miss Jamaica was hospitalized Nov 19 after falling from the stage.

 

Then there are the individuals who capture the world’s attention with their whole, complete selves.

 

This year, the standout was Olivia Yace from Cote d’Ivoire.  With a Master’s in Marketing, she runs a foundation devoted to women’s health and education.

 

When asked what advice she’d give young women, Olivia said “Go into those rooms where you don’t belong, shine, and make sure you assume your identity.

 

Last week, Viktor’s Mom said “I offer you a coffee, a hug, and a happy day.”  Today, Miss Cote d’Ivoire says “Go. Shine. Be You.”

 

That’s another way of saying “Live as if Heaven is here, on Earth.”  This comes from woman who knows what it means to not be like all the others.  Just like Daniel, a youth from Judea who was taken as a captive to Babylon.

 

Following last week’s narrative, Judah was attacked.  Their Royal Court, Temple authorities, artists, architects, the elite and athletic are taken 900 miles away to Babylon.

 

This is the consequence of King Ahaz not trusting in God, siding with his human enemy, and the whole country living corrupt lives.

 

Daniel is among the top 15% of society who’s been kidnapped.  He’s deemed healthy enough, smart enough to be taken 900 miles away, but he’ll never see his homeland again, reenter the doors of the Temple, or taste toasted ravioli or gooey butter cake again.

 

Daniel and his peers are taken to Babylon, a flat place full of vipers and scorpions, reeking of pork, and houses of worship devoted to Baal, a deity not often kind to kids.

 

His medium-brown to deep olive skin and thick wavy hair would stand out from the youth in Babylon with their lighter skin, straighter hair, rounder faces.

 

Daniel and his peers are forced into a place with their different accent, looks, and eating practices, and yet, he found a way to belong, shine, and assume his identity.

 

How?  Why?  Perhaps it’s Daniel’s foundation; the rock on which he stands- God.

 

Daniel is someone so rooted in who he is, what he believes, and where he draws the line.

 

For him, it’s not learning a new language or learning a new culture, he has no issue with the fabulous clothes or spa treatments he receives.

 

But the food.  The food mattered.  The king is offering booze and  burgers, and Daniel says “Nope.  Not my food.  Not my body.”

 

We could go into a deep dive why Daniel would say this, but let’s just say Daniel, rooted in his worldview and knowledge of God says “Nope.  I’m good.  Just give me vegetables and plenty of fresh water and we’ll be fine.”

 

Ten days later, Daniel and his dudes are doing better than those who opted for the All-You-Can-Eat Babylonian Buffet.

 

Somehow, someway, Daniel is a person of faith who knew that the food he was offered may have been fit for  King, but not for a servant of the King of Kings.

 

Part of today’s story is the example of how one can experience God even when it appears that God is not present. 

 

Daniel is nowhere near the Temple, or a holy book, or access to a Sabbath Service, and yet he holds onto his faith and his identity through the food he eats.

 

Daniel is surrounded by temples devoted to another god, he’s seeing the unholy actions of others, he’s learning about their culture and identity, and yet he never loses his.

 

Even in this strange land, with strange foods and smells, God is there.  And that is so revolutionary that it prompts Daniel to take revolutionary action.

 

This is key for us to embrace and wonder as we wander this Advent Season. 

 

Here we are, week one, ready to go back to Bethlehem to remember who we are and recall what the Child In the Manger is All About.

 

Today we are like the Magi and Shepherds in the Field, making our way to City of David.

 

Our Christmas Carols and customs make us feel comfy and cozy, but what we’re getting ready to experience is a revolution.

 

That the God of Daniel, God of Jeremiah, God of Hannah is about to enter into our lives in an unexpected way- heaven is about inhabit human flesh.

 

We’re so use to singing about it, repeating scripture about it, that we get used to it, Christmas is earth-shaking, showing us the God is not aloof or unfeeling, but that God enters into our experiences to walk the same roads we walk, across the street to our neighbors or 900 miles away.

 

This is what our Sunday Adult Education class is learning as they read “Heaven And Earth” by Will Willimon.

 

The revolutionary knowledge that in the baby about to be born, God is going to eat with us, drink with us, cry with us, listen to us.

 

As we journey Back to Bethlehem, we seek the child who will grow to be the living one who washes our feet, heals our children, enters into our home, engages with all.

 

And because of this, all things matter.  The manger matters.  The path we take, the people we meet on the way to the manger matter. 

 

Hope matters.  Even as nights get darker, even as things seem uncertain, hope matters.

 

Just as we see in Daniel.  That ability to hold on.  To live in hope.  To exist knowing who you are and who you are not.

 

We journey back to Bethlehem because we know that our identity is rooted in the revolutionary child we’re about to meet.  That baby represents is the best we can be.

 

And that is beautiful.    

 

In closing, we have another quote from Olvia Yace, one that Daniel may have agreed with-  “Beauty is not in imitation.  It lives in the truth of our faces.  When we change your reflection to look like someone else, you forget your own face is already a masterpiece.”

 

This Advent season may we rediscover who we are; may our reflection be one that says “We belong.  We shine.  We are God’s Beloved.”  

 

Amen.

Thanksgiving Eve Message; Psalm 100

 

Rev. George Miller

Nov 26, 2025; Thanksgiving Eve

Psalm 100

 

To guide, to tend, to be welcomed back as one of God’s own.

 

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, my favorite day of the year.  It’s waking up to watch Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade while eating buttermilk pancakes and sipping coffee with sweetened condensed milk.

 

Thanksgiving is making my mom’s creamed onions; putting up the Christmas Tree while listening to holiday songs by Natalie Cole and Luther Vandross.

 

Thanksgiving is hanging ornaments from people I’ve known and places I’ve been like Disney World and Anheuser Busch; watching “A Diva’s Christmas Carol” and my favorite Doctor Who Christmas Special.

 

Thanksgiving is a day I spend alone, but in no way lonely.  I get to stay inside and in my pjs all day, unrushed and unbothered.

 

It’s the day I fondly remember everybody.  My family who has always watched the Parade no matter where we are.  The foods that remind me of folk like my great-grandmother in Brooklyn.

 

Each ornament is attached to a memory and person- Cornelius, Carmel’la, Tonya, Timmy.

 

I love Thanksgiving.  It creates space to rest and remember, reconnect through texts and calls, and watching the cats lay under the glow of the Christmas tree lights while Bing Crosby sings.

 

For me, Thanksgiving is a day to remember where you’re from, where you’re going, who’s been there along the way.

 

What does it mean for you; how do you choose to spend it?

 

Thanksgiving is a reminder of our nation’s past and foundational moments- the adventures, the trials, and coming together; a day tied to our denomination, as the Pilgrims and Puritans became the Congregational side of the UCC. 

 

The first was a meal they had in 1621 shared with the Wampanoag people. Then in 1863, President Lincoln established Thanksgiving as a National Holiday, seeking to restore harmony, asking citizens to pray for the nation’s wounds.

 

Be it that first meal in 1621, 1863 or 2025, Thanksgiving is a time to look back, look forward and say  “Thank you thank you thank you.”

 

How each culture brought their own flair to the Thanksgiving dinner.  German immigrants brought the Cornucopia, their love for parades, and pastries. 

 

Tonight’s Psalm is perfect for a night like this.  A chance to praise the Lord and give thanks to God  who made us, in which we are the sheep of the pasture.

 

Such an interesting phrase.  What does it mean to say we are sheep of the pasture?  In many ways it says more about God than it does about us.

 

It means God is our shepherd.

 

As sheep of God’s pasture, we can trust that God will guide us.  That is we listen and learn to discern God’s will and God’s voice, we can find ourselves in productive places, safe situations, in which the Spirit gives us direction, rhythm, purpose, and a place at the table.

 

God tends to us, noticing what we need.  The healing of hurts, being lifted up after a fall from grace or a tough time.  Being carried while we are weak; being encouraged to thrive in the sun.

 

God welcomes us back.  When we have strayed, when we feel so far away and ready to return, God is the kind of shepherd who lets us approach, because the relationship has never truly stopped.

 

God knows our voice, knows our heart, welcomes us back into the flock, walking beside us, talking sweetly to us, encouraging us, making sure we find those green pastures and still waters again.

 

God is the shepherd who says “You’re here; you’re safe.  Let’s eat.  Let’s get you strong again.”

 

This is the heart-language of tomorrow; this is the heart-language of the Advent season we are about to enter.

 

The thanks we give for all we are surrounded by and blessed with; the thanks we get for belonging to God and being one of the flock.

 

The thanks we give for being in the Lord’s presence, for being part, guided, tended to, and welcomed whenever we stray.

 

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  What are you thankful for; what are we thankful for; how do we continue to show that spirit of gratitude to God, our Good Shepherd.  Amen.

Live; Jeremiah 29:4-14

 

Rev. George Miller

Nov 23, 2025

Jeremiah 29:4-14

 

Last Sunday, I stated “St. Lucas is going to “St. Lucas.”  After last week, ya’ll can say “Pastor George is going to ‘Pastor George.’” 

 

What was I doing by coming in knowing I was nowhere near 100%, or even 25%?  Some of it was the “show must go on” mentality of a theater kid.  Some of it was being a Miller- we simply don’t call in sick, we push through.

 

Last week I could not push

through or stand, but ya’ll stood by me. 

 

St. Lucas showed love by bringing water, encouragement to sit, and adapting to an unexpected service. 

 

You were Big Mamas and Big Papas who said “You need to go the hospital,” when I thought it could be slept off on the couch.

 

I apologize for the worry that was caused last Sunday.  At the same time, if it did not happen, I would not have known there was an issue that needed treatment.

 

I am proud of you- on the spot, St. Lucas embodied what it means to be the hands and feet of Christ, as well as to be the wisdom and chariot of the King.

 

Some may think Christianity is about having the right things memorized, or showing up every Sunday, but often it is about how you show up in the everyday things, how you interact with others, the kindness shared.

 

Viktor’s Mom in Colombia sent me this message “Everyone offers what they have.  Here I leave you a coffee, a hug, and a happy day.”

 

A coffee.  A hug.  A happy day.  I think Christ would agree and embrace the simplicity. 

 

Coffee- Fellowship/Communion.

A hug- Compassion.

A happy day- Heaven, right here. 

 

Today we celebrate Christ The King; not the kind of King we saw in Amos who accepts bribes nor the cowardly King in Isaiah.

 

Christ is the King who embodies things like fellowship, compassion, and God’s will be done here, on Earth.  Today’s reading offers a hint of what “Thy will be done, on Earth,” looks like.

 

160 years ago, Amos the shepherd told the Kings of the North and South that God wasn’t pleased with their behavior  or impressed with their fake piety.

 

140 years ago Isaiah told the Southern King- “Stay; wait; trust that God will work this out.”

 

But none of the kings listened, their ingrained dysfunctions has made the whole body weak. Now the worst thing has happened.

 

Babylon, seeing just how disunited Judah is, attacks.  They demolish local businesses, burn the fields, and destroy the Temple.

 

Then, they take the who’s who of Judah away into Exile.  The King and Queen, the royal court and Temple personnel.  The soldiers, artisans, engineers and architects.

 

If you had a skill, if you could add to the economy, if you could build, make, fix, fight, create, you were taken 900 miles away to Babylon.

 

If you were not seen as “good enough” or able to bolster the economy, if you were too old, too arthritic, you were left in Judah, to face the burnt fields, barren businesses, and broken temple.

 

What a conundrum created by the kings who could have simply kept the Commandments and Covenant. 

 

Now the nation is torn asunder; some citizens live in ruins, others in a strange new land.  It is to the exiles that Jeremiah writes too. 

 

He knows they are there for the long haul, a situation that could mark the end of their existence.

 

Speaking on behalf of God, Jeremiah gives them this advice- LIVE.

 

To this group of folk who have experienced severe trauma, Jeremiah says “Live.  Build houses; turn them into homes.  Connect with the earth and eat what you plant.  Get married.  Have babies and grandbabies.”

 

To fractured folk 900 miles away from familiar faces, God says “Plant seeds, grow, be part of the community, pray for it’s welfare.”

 

If you want to know why the enslaved people of Africa were able to endure; if you’ve wondered how your ancestors were able to cross an ocean and thrive, know it’s because of scripture like this that speaks to the sojourners, the immigrants, to anyone who’s ever had to go from “here” to “there.”

 

This idea of acceptance that says “Even when the situation is not ideal, you can establish a sense of home, a sense of purpose, a sense of continuity and community.”

 

Not to say that any of this would be easy for the exiles.  They went from stone homes built in the hills to mudbrick houses on flat land.

 

They went from growing olives, grapes, and wheat, to cucumbers, dates, and barley.  

 

They went from having the best vineyards and wine in the world to malt liquor and expensive imports.

 

For people in which oil and wine were instrumental in their worship,  without olives and grapes they faced a liturgical loss, like how COVID reshaped Communion.

 

Jeremiah addresses this in a way similar to Viktor’s Mom- “Do what you can, offer what you have: coffee, a hug, and a happy day.”

 

When reading Jeremiah’s words about homes, gardens, fellowship, it sounds like heaven.

 

Jeremiah is saying “Find a way to make heaven here on earth.  When you build, grow, seek the city’s welfare, God is there.”

 

In some ways, that’s what Christ is King is all about.  Christ is the King who is right there to seek the welfare of all, who finds ways to make heaven here on earth.

 

When saying Christ is King we’re not saying Christ dominates or subordinates, is easily bribed or conquers cities. 

 

We mean Christ is a King who joins us at a wedding and when the wine runs out, says “Trust me- there’s more” and invites the inbreaking of heaven.

 

Christ is the King who engages with a foreign woman of differing faith and does not humiliate her.

 

Christ is the King who offers health care to an official’s son and a man laying by the gate.

 

Christ is the King who says “Come and inherit the kingdom for you fed me when I was hungry, gave me something to drink when I was thirsty, you cared for me when I was sick and welcomed me when I was a stranger.”

 

Christ is the King who wants us to have a happy home, be able to provide, eat, fall in love, and have a family.

 

Christ is the King who wants us to pray for the well-being of the community, and benefit from the community’s well-being.

 

What an empowering way to think of Jesus; a fabulous way to embody our faith.

 

Not separate; but part of.  Not as victims, but survivors. Not alone, but together.  Not detached, but connected.

 

This is the King we celebrate today; the King we travel back to Bethlehem to greet.

 

Christ is the King whose hands and feet we are invited to every week, and every day, no matter where we are.                     Amen.