Seeing the Boy Sleeping On the 3 Chairs; John 9:1-12

 

Rev. George Miller

Feb 15, 2026

John 9:1-12

 

Last Sunday we witnessed a visually spectacular celebration of the Americas, identity, and love for family in the Superbowl Half Time Show featuring Bad Bunny.

 

An act of artistic resistance and joy, the concert began in cane fields, reminding us all of the legacy of slavery.  From that image of oppression came the endearing sight of uncles playing dominos, small business entrepreneurs selling sweet drinks to a wedding.

 

For me, the image that stuck out is the child sleeping on the 3 chairs.

 

It is an image that anyone who was raised in a South American family or has been welcomed into their lives knows all too well.

 

From Cherokee Street in St. Louis to route 17 in Florida, the image of a child sleeping on chairs while the family gathers late into the night is iconic. 

 

I remember the first time seeing this.  A Friday night at La Creola Restaurant. Fully packed place.  Rows of tables pushed together. 2 separate families celebrating birthdays.  People in their teens, twenties, forties, eighties.  Eating, drinking, laughing, gossiping. 

 

An extremely loud live band followed by an even louder DJ.  So loud that I had to step outside twice just to calm my ears.

 

But there were kids there, fully asleep, zonked out on the chairs.  A baby safe and sound in their abuela’s arms, not stirring.

 

I grew up in a family in which we were always left with the babysitter, never taken to adult gatherings like weddings.

 

But not in Latin families.  In a culture where you save grocery bags and wash and reuse all plastic containers, no one is going to waste money on a babysitter.

 

So, in Puerto Rican, Mexican and Peruvian families, wherever there is a family gathered in celebration, there will be kids fast asleep, laid out on 2 or 3 chairs put together.

 

So to “see” this image of the child sleeping at the Bad Bunny show was an immediate joy- a sense of “I get it!  I see it!  I understand it.”

 

All over the internet people have responded to this very image.  One person said “It was the most Latin thing I’ve ever seen.”

 

Others commented “I come from an Italian family and we do the same thing.”  Someone from the Mid-east said that was also a common sight.  So then the dialogue came around to “Maybe we’re not as different as we think.”

 

…There is a beauty to see, and to be seen.  There is a grace and grounding of new beginnings when we can see other people for who they are and as they is. 

 

It is perhaps one of the most just, compassionate and humble things we can do when we welcome space where others can be seen completely as who they are and what their legacy and traditions be.

 

To see and to be seen.  To witness and watch.  To observe and be moved to action.

 

Today we have yet another water story in the Gospel of John.  Spit used to make mud; a pool to wash in.  Water that leads to healing.  Water that leads to reconciliation.  Water that leads to sight.

 

Just as in all the other water stories, from the wedding to Jacob’s Well, is Jesus, fully present, completely there, allowing people to have an intimate experience with the Incarnate God, if they so choose to.

 

Like last week, where the man had to pick up his mat and walk, we meet another individual who had to go and wash.

 

When he does, his ability to see, truly see, changes.  His view is amplified; his interactions with others change, and he a connection with Jesus in which he says “I believe.”

 

To see, and to be seen.

 

Today we celebrate our many, many volunteers who do what they do freely, unselfishly, as a ministry to us, the community, and to God.

 

Often, the ministry our volunteers do is unseen, performed in Choir Rooms and Fireside tables, committee meetings, late-night e-mails, vehicles full of supplies driving to places that care for the unhoused, abused, hungry.

 

Today is our chance to say “We see you, and we thank you.”

 

Knowing that you don’t volunteer your time for applause, we applause you.

 

Your work; your ministries may often go unnoticed but they allow others to see Christ and to see the Kingdom. 

 

There is another component- for all of us, the more we are in the presence of Christ, the more we allow God’s amazing grace to open our eyes, and the more we get to see of the “other.” 

 

The more that God’s amazing grace opens our eyes, the more we are able to compassionately see and appreciate the other for who they are, as they are, not through our lens of what is normal or acceptable, but through their lens of culture, family, faith, history.

 

In Christ, our eyes are opened.  We may not fully understand what another is saying or agree with what they hold dear, but we can recognize, appreciate, welcome and want to learn more.

 

It is a very, very scary time in the United States for anyone who does not look like me or speak perfect English. 

 

In Christ, may we find ways to become that Rock of Refuge, that Limestone of Love that lets everyone know they are seen, they are loved, and they can fall safely asleep like a child at a Latino wedding party.

 

Amen and amen.

What If John IS the Parable; John 5:1-9

 

Rev. George Miller

Feb 8, 2026

John 5:1-9

 

Our Confirmation Class has been studying the parables of Jesus, stories deceivingly complex, designed to make one think, even if we never fully understand.  

 

Jesus used Parables to be subversive in a time when soldiers patrolled the streets and officials expected blind obedience.

 

Mark 4:26 has the seed that grows beyond human control.  Matthew 20 has a landowner who pays each person the same regardless of what the timeclock says.  Luke 15 has a son who gets angry that his Dad hosted party for his brother.

 

But the Gospel of John features not a nab Parable; not a single one.  Jesus does a lot of talking and teaching, but not once does he tell a story.

 

This fact is a bit of a mystery, but I began to wonder- “What if John IS the parable?”

 

What if the entire Gospel of John is a subversive, confusing parable designed to make us think and to feel discomfort, just as Jesus did with his stories of women hiding yeast, foreigners being the hero, and feasts where the homeless are invited as guests of honor?

 

What if the stories in John are not necessarily real but instead true?  What if the author is saying “Don’t pay so much attention to the facts, but to the intent and implication.”?

 

With this mindset, we can look at today’s reading, and realize something- it is another story in John that takes place around water.

 

First, we had the wedding at Cana, then Nicodemus at night being told about water and spirit, then the Woman from Samaria at Jacob’s Well, having an extended dialogue with Jesus in broad daylight.

 

Today we have an individual who’s experienced a lifetime of illness, waiting for someone, anyone to place him in the pool.

 

All these stories appear in John and John only.  No parables in John, but lots of water.

 

Then, we realize- it’s only in John that Jesus washes the disciple’s feet.  It’s only in John where Jesus’ side is pierced and water pours out.  It’s only in John that Christ Resurrected appears by the sea, asks for fish, and feeds the disciples breakfast.

 

Water water everywhere in the Gospel of John.  What could it mean?  Why would this be?

 

The author of John is not here today to tell us, but we can approach this as a parable knowing we’ll never get the full facts, but we might leave with some truth.

 

For me, I think of how John starts- “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God...”

 

How that ties into Genesis 1- “When God began to create…the earth was complete chaos, and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.”

 

When John starts the Gospel stating “In the beginning was the Word,” is the author expecting us to think of Genesis, the waters of creation, and how God’s words made our world out of chaos?

 

If so, John may be playfully using this water motif to make us pay attention, look, hear, remember.

 

Maybe John  has no parables because the whole Gospel is a parable.

 

Jesus is at a wedding.  When chaos is sure to ensue because there’s no more liquor, Jesus, turns water into wine, symbolizing the presence of heaven.

 

Jesus is visited by a frightened religious figure at night.  They have a conversation about wombs and water, and the man evolves into being incredibly brave.

 

At Jacob’s Well, Jesus and a Samaritan woman discuss living water.  In the process, the legacy of the past meets the present, beginning reunification of two nations that has been torn apart.

 

Today we have a man living with great pain, who meets Jesus by the pool.  Jesus says “Do you want to be made well?  Stand up, take your mat, and walk.”

 

Do you want to be made well?  Then pick up your mat and walk.

 

There’s a thread here.

 

Water is turned into wine, but it takes many people to make that happen.

 

Nicodemus and the Woman at the Well willingly engage Jesus in honesty and integrity and their lives are changed.

 

The person by the pool has been waiting for someone to save him.  Yet it is by being willing to stand and pick up their mat, that they begin to enter a new stage of life.

 

Water, water everywhere.

 

Water of creation.  Water of heaven.  Water of rebirth; new life.  Water of healing.

 

We may never fully understand these stories; perhaps we never will.  Maybe that is the point.

 

Perhaps John is one great big Parable saying “Come, let’s gather by the water; let’s share some words; let’s discern together who Jesus is and what an encounter with Christ is all about.”

 

Heaven here on earth?  New understanding?  Reclaimed legacy?  Moving forward instead of being stuck in place?

 

Creation, creation, creation.

 

May God continue to bless our imagination and our time to discern together.  Amen.

When the Well Brings Reconciliation; John 4:5-15

 

Rev. George Miller

Feb 1, 2026

John 4:5-15

 

1,800 years ago is a man named Jacob.  He’s made lots of bad choices.  Stole from his brother; deceived his father.

 

Jacob has wrestled with God as the moon transitioned into the sun.  He is given a new name, Isreal, and makes amends with his Brother.

 

He comes to a place in the north, a rich piece of earth filled with green grass, wild bees and cream-colored butterflies.  He purchases a plot of land and establishes a place to be….still.

 

Upon his deathbed, he leaves this land to his son, Joseph.  As years pass, traditions take place, legacy lives on, the well that is there becomes known as Jacob’s well.

 

Jacob’s Well evolves into a place where people can remember their ancestors, be reminded of their inheritance, go in gratitude for all that God has done.

 

Jacob’s Well is not just water to quench your thirst or water to cook lentil stew, but a place of belonging and communal memory.

 

But, 750 years ago, something horrible happens.  The Northern Kingdom is attacked, and Samaria falls into enemy hands.  Citizens are deported.  The enemy starts taking wives, introducing their beliefs; their gods. 

 

The people living by Jacob’s well begin to change.  They are Jews but not Jews.  They become the “cousins we don’t talk about.” 

 

Now, 450 years ago the people of Samaria do something seen as brash: they build their own temple with their own priests and systems.  They proclaim that they, not Judah, are home to the true Temple.

 

This upsets the people of the South even more.  The Samaritans are demonized, vilified, seen as vulgar, nonhuman.  They are called thieves, impure, demon possessed.

 

No self-respecting person from the South would be seen in Samaria. In terms of safety it has a more heightened stigma of East St. Louis or Cabrini- Green.

 

And yet…and yet in this city of Samaria, supposedly surrounded by the most dangerous, impure, stood Jacob’s Well.

 

A place where the Patriarchs and Matriarchs received sustenance, a place of memory, legacy, and a historical connection with God.

 

But it is a place where no one from Jerusalem would ever visit, or self-respecting follower of God would go.  It is as if Jacob’s Well is forever gone; dead…

 

So- here we are today.  We are at Jacob’s Well in Samaria.  It’s noon.  The sun is out; it is hot. 

 

Unlike Nicodemus’ visit in the dark of night, it is bright, bright, bright, where all can see.

 

And what do we see in the bright sunshine of Samaria at the Well of Jacob that no self-respecting Jew has chosen to visit for centuries?

 

We see Jesus, the very Jewish son of God, standing beside a woman from Samaria, and they are talking.

 

Like talking, talking. He says something, she says something.  He makes a request; she responds. 

 

It is a stunning sight to behold.  Shocking.  Scandalous.

 

He answers; she speaks back, bringing her knowledge of history and Jacob into the conversation.

 

He responds with a riddle only a professor of philosophy could understand and she doesn’t bat an eye but speaks right back.

 

Up to this point it is the longest conversation Jesus has had with anyone in John.

 

Here we are, 750 years after the fall of Samaria, and we see Jesus, a Jew who was expected to follow the purity laws who should have traveled another way, not engage a woman in theological conversation, nor think about drinking from the same cup.

 

Here we are, 450 years after the Samaritans brashly built their own temple, we see a woman who should not speak to any man of foreign background, who should avoid all things shameful.

 

And yet, here we are today, under the full afternoon sun, out in the middle of the city where all could see, judge, gossip, condemn.

 

And they are talking; interacting; discussing things like they’re at Eden Seminary.

 

What we see here it yet another example of Jesus and the people around him being subversive.

 

Here we have another example of why, “bam” the hammer was struck into the nails.

 

Here we see Jesus doing the unexpected and improper.

 

But what we also see is the past reuniting with the present to become part of a wonderful future.

 

This is a moment of healing; a moment of reconciliation.  This is the moment where 2 nations begin to revive a relationship.

 

Jacob’s Well, once almost seen as gone, dead, is wonderfully here, now.  Perhaps, we can even say this is a moment of Resurrection.

 

Imagine, that at this moment, as we see the Woman of Samaria and Jesus talking, that their ancestor Jacob is there, and so is Rachel, and so is Joseph and his wife Asenath and so on and so on. 

 

Imagine, if at this moment as Jesus and the Woman Of Samaria speak and discuss theology and God, that all of history is there, to watch, to smile, to be pleased.

 

For that which had seemed to be gone forever now is on its ways to grow and flourish and be part of the Kingdom of God here on earth.

 

Jesus stays there for 2 days, eating, fellowshipping with them.  Upon his resurrection, Christ announces that people will be witnesses to Jerusalem and Samaria (Acts 1:8). 

 

Philip goes to Samaria to preach; Peter and John join him, where they successfully minister to many, many villages.

 

At this Well, it is about more then water; it is about more than thirst or theology.

 

It is about the ability for Jesus to overcome the turmoil and disagreements, the vilification of others and the hate of someone different.

 

At this well, we see a moment in which the past is remembered, the ancestors who came before are honored, memory and legacy are seen as a gift.

 

As thus, this present moment becomes richer and more meaningful, and the future opens up to unlimited possibilities.

 

What an honor to be at Jacob’s Well today, and to see how Jesus invites the Samaritan Woman and each of us to think about what Living Water can mean. 

 

Amen.

Seeing God's Kingdom During a Dark, Dangerous Time; John 3:1-10; 16

 

Rev. George Miller

Jan 25, 2026

John 3:1-10; 16

 

Here we are during a dangerous time.  Rome has occupied Jerusalem.  Armed soldiers are everywhere.  Crosses stand in the distance like billboards reminding folk of what can happen if they get out of line. 

 

People of all backgrounds and skin tones have come to the Holy City to honor God.  Jesus has just used a whip to upend cattle and change.

 

There is the unspoken sense that people are treading lightly; not knowing what’s next.

 

In the darkness of night, a religious leader comes to Jesus, careful that the armed guards and traditionalists do not see him.

 

The threat of his reputation and safety is real.

 

And once he is in the safety of the Good Shepherd, he asks his questions to gather more info.

 

What he receives instead is akin to a riddle and a challenge to his own pedigree and understanding.

Under the protection of night, Nicodemus hears about God’s kingdom and a wind that blows.

 

We may all ask ourselves “What does this mean?”  Like last week, we will not tell you what this means, but invite you to think for yourself.

 

Here is an approach I offer: at the dark of night during dangerous times, Jesus says no one can see the Kingdom of God.

 

Christians often think this is about “heaven,” being accepted inside after we die, and only those who are born again get to go.

 

But I wonder if Jesus is referring to the Kingdom of God as being right here, right now, and that not everyone is at a place in their life in which they can see it…but that everyone has the ability to see it.

 

And by “see,” perhaps what Jesus means is to “recognize,” to “appreciate,” and to “realize.”

 

Maybe in this story, told under the dark of night during a dangerous time, Jesus is saying “Not everyone has the ability to realize the Kingdom of God is present.  Not everyone can see the Kingdom is here.”

 

“But those who do, those who can, are able to participate in the ways of the Kingdom that allow life to be celebrated here on earth.”

 

And what are some of those ways?

 

The Ministry of Lydia’s House, where next week we get to purchase pot pies to support their care for women, families and pets.

 

Feed My People, where we are encouraged today to take home a yellow bag and return it next week filled with groceries to feed the hungriest and least of these.

 

Our offerings, which allow us to be a presence in a time like this.

 

Our gifts that we give today and each week empower us to strive to maintain a loving and inclusive culture of respect and compassion that affirms people of all colors, cultures, and views of the world.

 

Nicodemus was very, very afraid when he visited Jesus, and he may not have fully understood all that Jesus talked about.

 

But when he arrived home, and the sun began to rise, transformation began to take place.

 

In John 7:45, when the police and priests try to rile the crowd against Jesus, it is Nicodemus, in broad daylight, who speaks up, saying they are not following the law. 

 

In John 19, Nicodemus participates in taking Jesus’s body off the cross, ensuring he has a proper burial.

 

Nicodemus played his own part in making heaven seen when he spoke up in truth and when he showed compassion to the flesh of an unjustly convicted Jesus.

 

Like Nicodemus, we too live during dangerous times, and like him we also get to discern how we will get to allow our experience with Jesus to shape how we live in this world and amongst others.

 

Amen.

Reflecting on the Events in MPLS; John 2:13-25

 

Rev. George Miller

Jan 18, 2026

John 2:13-25

 

As you may recall, I believe that every time we hear Jesus say or do anything, we should think “Bam, another strike of the hammer!”

 

Today is an example.  Jesus makes a whip, pours out coins, chases away cattle.  How you view this event depends on what you know, and how this could affect you.

 

But first: chicken hearts.

 

My dad was a New York City cop.  I grew up going to the station, attending holiday gatherings.

 

Dad was part of a carpool.   One of my favorite memories is when JD and Johny came over for lunch and Mom made fried chicken hearts.  I don’t remember the conversations, but I recall the camaraderie that took place around the table.

 

There is something about cop energy that I’m so comfortable with.  How cool that my Dad was a policeman.  I’d go into the city anytime, knowing that if I needed help, I just had to stop an officer and tell them who my Dad is.

 

Sadly, Mom stopped making those chicken hearts.  When I asked why she said, “They’re poor people’s food.”

 

I recall the time a woman was shot, the city was in an uproar, how it affected my Dad.  He explained that she came charging at the officers and would not stop.

 

Upon getting my driver’s license, Dad and I had the “talk”- when an officer pulls me over, I am to stay calm, be polite, keep my hands on the wheel.  I can’t tell you how often his advice got me out of a ticket.

 

In 1994 I moved to Minneapolis.  One day I was standing on the corner.  It was a red light, no cars at all.  I started to walk across the street when an officer said, “Go ahead and I’ll arrest you.”  It was the 1st time I had a reason to be wary of a policeman.

 

In Florida, there was a Chief who used his Facebook page to target me and the church I served, posting “dog whistles,” in which his followers would write things like “It would be a shame if the church happened to burn down.”

 

But then…there was Sheriff Paul Blackman, one of the greatest people I know.  Conservative in every way, a staunch Christian who valued the Constitution.

 

He and I had differing views, but we were ONE when it came to caring about the community.

 

Sherif Blackman and I worked side by side on various Boards.  He invited me to be part of a Task Force. When our church had events addressing George Floyd and Pride, he made sure police were present.

 

Sheriff Blackman was there for the blessing of our Community Garden; wore silly socks to bring awareness to those living with developmental disability.

 

One Christmas, he and I walked children safely across the Circle to meet Santa Claus, this big guy with a badge and gun tenderly holding the hands of Black and Hispanic kids.

 

A supporter of the Freedom of Speech, Sherrif Blackman created a physical space for people to hold protests in a way that they were safe.  When we had PRIDE, and the Proud Boys showed up, he kept us protected.

 

I have lived a life that’s allowed me to hear, empathize, and seek to understand all sides and views.

 

Last week we witnessed an event in Minneapolis in which a woman named Renee Good died when an ICE agent shot into her vehicle during an encounter on an icy street.

 

This moment of time has been captured on video, from all angles, all different lemgths, featuring different people and dialogue.

 

Depending on what you see, where you see it, how much you see, who presents it, who comments on it, people have a variety of responses.

 

Today, we are not going to tell you what to feel, how to act or respond, but we cannot ignore this. 

 

No matter where we stand or what we believe we saw, there are at least two things to say- a woman was shot by an ICE officer 3 times, and afterwards we hear someone, somewhere say “F.B.”

 

None of us here today know how we would have acted, how we would’ve responded, nor what that energy was like for all involved.

 

But something has happened, and that something is continuing to happen in the Minneapolis schools, streets, Target stores, and cars. 

 

Folk are scared.  Worried that this has become our Night of Broken Glass or like the days when people were sent to capture runaway slaves.

 

I am not going to tell you where I stand, but I can tell you that many people I care about are worried every day.  For them, this moment in American history is not a detached ethical, philosophical discussion, but a hard-core reality.

 

Nor can I tell you what to think. 

 

But something is happening in our country.

 

 We are each going to have to decide how we are going to act if ICE comes to our home door, steps into our favorite restaurant, or comes into our sanctuary.

 

Who we voted for, or the color of our skin is not going to affect how you may be treated.

 

…Chicken hearts.  I miss them.  The time of life and innocence they represent. 

 

The lively conversation and energy around that table of my Dad and other police officers on their way into the Big City to face whatever was going to come their way.

 

I miss that. 

 

There is a lot we miss.  Recent election cycles have really brought out the worst in people.  COVID separated us and made us live solitary lives for a long while. 

 

Folk feeling misunderstood. People seeing the same thing but coming to different conclusions.

 

This is very much what it was like for those who experienced Jesus.

 

His ministry took place during Roman occupation, when coins claimed Ceasar was god, armed soldiers patrolled the streets, crosses stood to scare people into submission, and religious leaders participated in government corruption.

 

Here is Jesus, going from small town to small town, wedding party to Temple steps, telling people there’s another way, reminding folk of the ways of the Lord, saying that the true kingdom belongs to God and not the governor.

 

Based on one’s life, where one was in the social status stratosphere, what you had to gain and what you had to lose, different people experienced Jesus different ways.

 

Some saw Jesus in the Temple fashioning up that whip and they thought “Right on!”  While others were angry about their coins and cattle being cast away.

 

Jesus upends a capitalistic enterprise, and you can imagine “Bam!  Another strike of the hammer!”

 

I am a big believer that when we come to church, we should be uplifted, spiritually nourished, empowered to face the world. 

 

But sometimes, sometimes things become so upended that to not discuss them would be unfaithful.

 

Jesus did not shy away from the difficult, nor he did he make everyone at ease at all times.

 

What we witness, what we can be reminded of, is that what Jesus did, what Jesus taught and what Jesus was zealous about were-

 

-the ways of God’s kingdom

 

-God’s desire for all to thrive, live, and grow into abundant living,

 

-and how there is a better way.

 

Though we may feel uncomfortable, may we find ways to come together to bring comfort to  others and strive to better understand what justice, kindness and humility really looks like. 

 

Amen.