Celebrating Rev. Kruse and the Ministry of St. Lucas UCC; Micah 6:8

 

Rev. George Miller

August 30, 2026

Micah 6:8

 

Palm Sunday, April 13, 1930- the sun is shining through the refrained pictures in the hallway between the office and social hall.

 

It’s the 50^th Anniversary of St. Lucas UCC.  The retired Rev. Kruse stands to give a message to the Confirmation Sunday worshippers, quoting Psalm 111.

 

Then, he says:  “Since our church was founded, almost an entire generation has sunk into the grave.  They lie under our sacred ground or in other cemeteries.”

 

“Many who rest out there have sat with us at God’s fountain; they have refreshed their souls with the Word of Life; and they have helped us build up this congregation.”

 

“Their contributions are built into our first church and our beautiful current one. May God reward them for what they have done to sustain the faith and the piety of our community.”

 

“Their children will bless them for it.  Now it is up to you to take possession of what your fathers have passed down to you.”

 

80 years later, John Hoffmeister and  Dr. David Mehl shared these same words at the Dedication Weekend of the Samuel Kruse Center on Oct 23 and 24, 2010; remarkably warm, almost summery days.

 

Now, on Aug 30, 2026, we share these words again as we hold our first “Rev. Kruse Day” to honor the legacy of our 2^nd pastor and the legacy of St. Lucas UCC.

 

The story of Rev. Kruse is very much the story of America, the story of the Evangelical church and the story of Missouri.

 

The son of immigrants, his father and great uncle were pastors.  He lived in Illinois, Missouri, and Nebraska, in frontier-like settings that were agricultural, rural; with wagons, carriages, stagecoaches, and a railroad stop.

 

In 1880 he was ordained; 1882 he was installed as pastor of St. Lucas and served for 43 years. 

 

Rev. Kruse wasn’t the first pastor- that was Rev. Joseph Steinhart, but he was the pastor of many firsts- starting the church choir in 1884, the Women’s Fellowship, Sunday School, Youth Society, and a men’s group.

 

Back then Rev. Kruse was called a Progressive Pastor when that word had a different connotation.

 

Intune to God and Scripture, he led the way to purchasing a total of 15 acres of land, building  a school house, expanding the cemetery. 

 

He was busy- baptizing over 1,100 babies, creating over 3,000 sermons, teaching over 5,000 Confirmation Classes. President of Eden Seminary, Emmaus Homes, Superintendent of the Cemetery.

 

He had 6 children.  One wonders how much they had to sacrifice their time with Dad so others could have him; one wonders how many unpaid hours his wife Amalia served alongside him, uncredited.

 

Micah 6:8 says the Lord requires us to do justice, love kindness, and to walk humbly with the Lord.  How did Rev. Kruse do that?

 

He once said that as the congregation grows, we develop a deeper sense of social responsibility; the need to get involved in charitable works of the Synod and organizations. 

 

He embodied this by encouraging the Ladies Society to help women in the community; establishing a youth group with the motto being “Learn to do good.” (Isaiah 1:17)

35 years of unending support for Emmaus Homes and the 200 people who benefited from it.

 

Rev. Kruse was known for being strict; yet he had kindness for the community.  At a time when Google was just a funny sounding word, Rev. Kruse was a go-to source of information.  Town folk knew they could come to him with questions and guidance.

 

One person may need to know if it is wise to buy insurance, and if so- from whom?  Another seeking wisdom about building a house.  Someone else needs to sell their horse.  Rev. Kruse was the guy.

 

Then there is walking with the Lord.  Rev. Kruse was a servant of God, a follower of Christ and a believer in the Holy Spirit.  He led and inspired others with Scripture.

 

Psalm 106 “Praise the Lord! O give thanks to the Lord, for he is so good,” became a spark for starting a children’s school.

 

Luke 11:28 “Blessed are they that hear the word of God and heed it” inscribed over the chancel in 1885.

 

2 Corinthians 9:7-9 “…God loves a cheerful giver, and God is able to provide for you every blessing in abundance…so you may share abundantly in every good work.”

 

Rev. Kruse was a frugal man; he would only use 4 pages to type a sermon so as not to waste the church funds.  Yet, with a belief in God’s provision, he motivated people to trust and believe, share and bless.

 

Together, in great faith, local stone and stonework that was donated, a new church was built in 1905. It cost $20,000.  Today, that would be about $759,000.

 

Micah says that what God wants is for us to love being socially responsible, to be neighborly, and to move forward with God.

 

This is what Rev. Samuel Kruse did, and that is how he invited St. Lucas UCC to walk.

 

Today we honor Rev. Kruse’s legacy.

 

By remembering him, we also remember ourselves: what we have accomplished, what we can do, and where we can go, when-

 

giving thanks to God, living out the word, and sharing with joy.

 

Let us end by hearing the closing  words from that sunny 1930 day-

 

“Take comfort in the fact that you have transmitted the beliefs of your fathers to your children through the building and maintenance of the congregation.”

 

“Your house of God is so inviting, and it cheers one’s heart and soul that visitors sense some of the impression that the Holy singer expresses through the words,

 

holy and awesome in his name, or as Jacob expressed by his ladder to heaven,

 

How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven.”

 

Amen and amen.

Oasis of Calm & Passion; Song of Songs 1:1-17

 

Rev. George Miller

July 19, 2026

Song of Songs 1:1-17

 

Into a world full of chaos and confusion comes a sacred pause to embrace passion and love.

 

Into a time of wondering “what does it matter?” comes an oasis singing “Stay awhile and use your senses to see and smell, taste and touch, listen and be embraced.”

 

Into an era where people easily pull apart is a love song that ends with two people leaning on each other for support and unification.

 

Into a world in which innocence can be ripped away is a moment in a garden filled with trust and calm.

 

“Oh you who dwell in the gardens, my companions are listening for your voice; let me hear it.”(Song of Songs 8:13 or SOS 8:13)

 

Please repeat after me-

“Unity.”

“Calm.”

“Trust.”

“Amen.”

 

Today we journey into the private grounds of two lovers who want nothing more than to be as close as two people can possibly be.

 

The Song of Songs is among the highest regarded writings in the Bible.  Called “The Holiest of Holies,” it ranks up there with Genesis and Psalms as generating the most commentary.

 

In the Jewish community, the Song of Songs is read during Passover, on the Sabbath in the synagogue, in its entirety.

 

Which is stunning because not once is God mentioned or the Law or Isreal’s history.

 

Instead this song focuses on lovers who simply can’t get enough of each other, using multiple images to express how much they care, trust, and long for each other.

 

Imagery of nature, agriculture and animals, metropolitan meccas and royal places, natural phenomena and perfumes.

 

In the Jewish writings, this book is situated between Job and Ruth.  In our Protestant Bible it is placed between Ecclesiastes and Isaiah.

 

How fascinating since Ecclesiastes is about how pointless life seems and Isaiah explores the unraveling of Isreal due to unloving actions.

 

Since July 5 we’ve been immersed in the Ecclesiastes world with a teacher who thought life was pointless, who found hope in unity, food, drink, and enjoying what you work hard for.

 

Song of Songs unashamedly adds a 5^th reason to live- LOVE; wild, passionate, amor.

 

These are the words spoken between  two lovers, one who is bronzed from toiling in the sun and another who lives a royal life.

 

“Let him kiss me with the kisses of my mouth.” (SOS 1:1)

 

“Oh that his left hand were under my head and that his right hand embraced me!” (SOS 2:6)

 

“You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.”(SOS 4:7)

 

“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine…” (SOS 6:3a)

 

Why would this collection of erotic lyrics be gathered among the sacred texts, elevated to holiness?

 

We can say how cool that our faith sees embodied love and sensuality as beautiful and heavenly.

 

We can point to how the images of springtime, renewal and unity are a reminder of how they’re gifts meant to be celebrated.

 

We can also say that this love song is a metaphor for the relationship between Isreal and God.  How it shows the ways in which God yearns to be in relationship with us, even if we are sunburned and exhausted.  How God will always choose us.

 

We could also say that this is a love song between Jesus and the universal Church. 

 

An allegory in which we as the church are out in the field, doing the work, participating in the harvest, yearning for the presence of Christ and grateful for his love.

 

Jesus is the lover who seeks us out, watches over us and cherishes the church.

 

From this allegorical reading we can imagine a closeness with Christ that is more than just thoughts and ideas, but dialogue and delight, closeness and unified joy.

 

And incarnation.

 

In other words, to say “we are the hands and feet of Christ” means that we are part of this garden relationship in which God’s love is embodied with our presence, kindness, and care.   

 

That in Christ, when we say “love grows here” it means we are playful and intentional, trusting and looking forward to the next time we gather.

 

That in Christ the words we speak are sweet like kisses, our faces radiate like ornaments of gold, and our souls long for comfort in the heat of noon.

 

Today’s scripture is among the most studied of all, having a sacred place for our Jewish sisters and brothers, woven into the celebration of Passover and freedom from Pharoah’s brutality.

 

In some ways, we can catch images of it in the relational presence we see in our Lord.

 

How Jesus took time to speak with Nicodemus in the middle of night.  How Jesus took time to speak to the Samaritan women in the middle of the day. 

 

On that 1^st day of resurrection, Jesus stood in the garden with a weeping Mary Magdelen, gently calling her name.

 

Christ stood before the disciples and said “Peace be with you.”  He said to Peter “Do you love me?  Feed my sheep.”

 

All of these have an element of the intimacy and closeness we hear in today’s reading. 

 

Even though God is not mentioned once in the Song Of Songs, we witness the gifts of generous love, gifts of generous trust, and the gifts of generous calm.

 

For a world that can be one of chaos, questions and pulling apart, this reading is an oasis that refreshes and restores, empowering us to find ways to be those hands, be those feet, and be that heart.

 

For that, let us say “amen.”

Keys to the Kingdom Do Not Stop Life From "Life-ing"; Jeremiah 29:11

 

Rev. George Miller

Aug 23, 2026

Jeremiah 29:11

 

Faith in Christ does not mean a carefree life.  In Matthew 16, Peter declares to Jesus “You are the Messiah…Son of the Living God!” 

 

To which Jesus says “Blessed are you Simon...You get the keys of the kingdom of heaven.”

 

Wow!  Could there be a cooler set of keys; sounds like life is now easy street!  Except, as Simon soon learns, holding the keys to heaven does not stop life from life-ing.  It does not prevent Peter from beatings or imprisonment.

 

What good are holding the keys if it doesn’t keep you crises free? 

 

Jeremiah 29:11 says “surely I know the plans I have for you, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”  Did God have plans for Peter?  Why did he endure harm?

 

…I have a confession to make- being a person of Christian faith is not always easy.  There is the idea that if you are a person of faith, every day should be easy, every moment filled with joy, your trust in God unmovable  and assured whenever wherever whatever.

 

Sometimes we construct an idea that as a person of faith we should always be happy; our first waking words- “Glory be to the Highest!”   

 

But the truth is that people of faith are still people.  We get cold when it’s cold.  Hungry when we’re hungry.  Weather affects our moods.  Housekeeping can feel overwhelming.

 

Being a person of Christian faith does not mean every obstacle is easily averted or every ailment is instantly healed.  It does not mean if we prayed harder, believed more, martyred ourselves enough times that all things will be OK.

 

Sometimes being a Christian of faith is saying “Lord, I’m tired, I’m tired.”  Sometimes it’s admitting that our bodies are not what they used to be. 

 

Sometimes it’s standing still and saying “Jesus, God, Holy Spirit, is it Ok if I just rest in your arms?”

 

Because the chores will wait.  The need to sacrifice ourselves and please others is often an illusion… 

 

…Since March, I’ve been on path to  healing.  The past 2 years have been a time of pain and mortality. 

 

It breaks my heart that you have not truly met the George who wistfully goes everywhere, doing all things, dances easily, and is always tan from being in the sun.

 

Turns out that once your legs no longer “leg” your relationship with the world changes.  Is stepping onto the sidewalk worth the pain?  When did lawns become dangerous fields of tree roots?

 

My arthritis was so bad that going downstairs to do laundry or stepping into the shower felt like horror movies.  The pain so excruciating that I tried to avoid putting on socks; every act of sitting down and standing up hurt.

 

Thank God for health insurance.  For neighbors who looked after me.  For your support.

 

This time of healing has been an enriching one.  Instead of pushing my body beyond its limits by Superman-ing it, I opted to “listen”- rest when my body said “rest”, ice when it said “ice”.

 

It meant feeling sad when I was sad.  Annoyed when the bathroom called for the 4^th time in 40 minutes.  In other words- real.

 

Though trouble lasted the night, joy has come in the morning.

 

Sunday, I braved the stairs to do laundry and when I stepped on that first step-nothing.  No pain, hurt or  grimacing.  Just the feeling of my foot on a flat surface.

 

It was so unfamiliar.  For 2 years every single step down the stairs caused pain.  I had grown used to it, afraid of it, my mind always bracing my body for it.   Now I get to rewire my brain so that steps are no longer seen as a horror film.

 

Then Monday- stepping barefoot on the grass.  It’s been a year since I’ve walked barefoot outside.  Too dangerous, unstable.

 

But Monday I got to feel it- green lush Missouri grass kissing my soles.  I forgot how that felt.

 

Now, Jeremiah 29 has some truth- plans to unfold and hope to hold. Oh the places I can go!  Wine Country, Ozarks, Botanical Gardens, the steps of the St. Louis library…even just walking the campus of St. Lucas UCC.

 

The simple pleasures that healing can restore.  I can’t wait to dilly dally once again at Home Goods.

 

Valuable lessons have been learned. Such as- as bodies age and break down, every aspect of our lives is affected. 

 

No amount of positive thinking changes the fact that as our bodies change, so does our relationship with the world around us.  How do I minister to a congregation of bodies now that I know this?

 

I’ve learned that pain infiltrates every aspect of our lives, robs our joy, limits what we do, and changes who we are.

 

As a church, how do we faithfully address this?  When it hurts for folks to put on socks or take an hour to button a shirt, when attending a Council meeting means stairs or long, dark hallways?

 

How does one faithfully lead worship when pews are low to the ground and invitations to stand up hurts?  When the Chancel isn’t easy to navigate if you are unsteady on your feet? 

 

Today’s scripture says “…I know the plans I have for you… plans for your welfare…to give you a future with hope.”

 

Hope.  Not perfection.  Not pain free, scar free, or the way it once was.  But hope.

 

Hope for anyone who knows what it is like to live day by day. 

 

Hope for those living with chronic pain or cancer, dealing with depression or bodies that aren’t as they used to be.

 

Hope for those whose dreams have been dashed or detoured.

 

Hope for those in North St. Louis still recovering from the tornado.  Hope for those in Colombia who have a lifetime of loss to deal with.

 

Being a person of Christian faith does not mean every day we are filled with delight and the keys to the kingdom jingle jangle with joy.

 

Maybe being a person of Christian faith is not  that we don’t fall, but that we get back up. 

 

It’s not that we must try harder but that we try.

 

Maybe faith is carrying the lessons learned  so that we can be true neighbors, brothers, and partners.

 

Maybe being a person of faith is simply saying “I don’t know what Monday will bring, but I know that God will be there, somehow, some way and in that I can find hope.”

 

Amen.

For Colombia; Jeremiah 14:1-6

 

Rev. George Miller

Aug 16, 2026

Jeremiah 14:1-6

 

“Faith isn’t faith until that is all you have left.”  These are the words spoken by a Holocaust survivor that have stayed with me for 25 years.

 

“Faith isn’t faith until that is all you have left.”

 

Words that got me through Search and Calls when churches were too scared to call me; when the eye of a hurricane spun over my home.

 

And now, as Viktor’s family in Colombia keeps vigil for a niece named Catalina who is trapped in the basement rubble of her apartment 3 days after the earthquake.

 

To be so far away, on another continent, concerned about a person I never met, knowing how it is hurting an entire family, and all one can do is listen, pray, reach out via WhatsApp and an AI translator.

 

It’s one thing to preach about Jesus walking on water towards the disciples 2,000 years ago; it’s another when you want that same Jesus to be clearing the rubble for a young woman who is scared, hungry, and trapped.

 

Faith.

 

“Faith is not faith until it’s all you have left.”

 

The words of this message are being written during a time when a woman a world away awaits to be saved…

 

This morning’s scripture has held a special place in my heart since 2024 when someone submitted it, saying “Isn’t it amazing that life keeps repeating itself…but why?”

 

Why indeed?  Why natural disasters and droughts?  Why cities full of people dismayed?  Why farmers worried about their livelihood and crops wellbeing?

 

If God cares about the sparrow and Jesus seeks out the lost lamb, why are there deer and donkeys hungry, panting, suffering? 

 

What has happened to the green pastures and still waters?

 

“Faith isn’t faith until it’s all you have left.”

 

This week, the suggested Gospel in the Revised Common Lectionary is Matthew 15: 10- 28.

 

In it, Jesus explains to the disciples that it’s not what we eat that defiles us, but what we say.  Jesus connects our words to the contents of our heart. 

 

This includes slandering a person’s reputation, stealing, telling lies about others, and intent to harm.

 

Think of how words and actions can bring about mini-deaths and deserts of ill will.  How words can create a drought or a sense of stagnation in the life of a person, a family, a community.

 

Then think of the opposite, how words of goodwill, empowerment, words of sharing, truth, uplifting has an opposite effect. 

 

How words, instead of defiling, can bring about the rains of well intentions, flourishing, new life, and overcoming of obstacles.

 

If defiling words create a dessert, uplifting words create an oasis.

 

After this lesson, Jesus encounters a foreign woman with an ill child.  She asks for mercy; the disciples only want to send her away.

 

This distraught mother kneels before Jesus asking for help.  At first, he resists. She holds her own, argues her case, and astounds Jesus, who says “Woman, great is your faith.”  Her daughter is healed and the family is restored.

 

Faith is not faith until it is all you have left; our words have a way to bring forth life.

 

So why are there deserts and droughts?  Why, after thousands of years, do we still hear how the land, animals and people suffer?

 

It’s like Ecclesiastes again and again- vanity of vanities, all is vanity, the sun rises, the sun goes down.  

 

But it is not vanity, and it is not hopeless, if we hold onto our faith and we hold onto one another.

 

For just as Eve walked beside Adam, and Ruth stayed beside Naomi, and Paul was intertwined with the Philippian church,

 

we were never made to walk alone, nor meant to face droughts and damaged basement by ourselves, but with one another.

 

The ministry of Jesus was rarely just him; the prophetic work of Moses included his sister and brother, even Elijah had the ravens that fed him.

 

Droughts and deserts and nieces who are trapped and daughters who are sick will always take place as long as humans are alive.

 

The difference is being united and not alone, working together and not apart, speaking humanely with and not defiling to.

 

That’s why it is fitting this week that the world is acknowledging Humanitarian Day on August 19, a  day set aside to honor aid workers and those who risk their lives to help people in crises, facing disaster, and caught up in conflicts.

 

Begun as a response to people killed at a UN headquarter in Baghdad, Humanitarium Day advocates for the safety of civilians and aid workers who come to care for people in chaos.

 

Since 2008, it’s a day to say that no one assisting in aid should have to worry about being killed, abducted, injured, or have food and medical supplies blocked.

 

It is a means to support life even in the face of the uncertain and death.

 

I wonder- how Jesus would feel about Humanitarian Day? 

 

Can we discern where Christ would be when it comes to allowing caregivers to give care without worry of death or threat?

 

Can we wonder where hope and faith would be for those who are doing what they can to provide life and medicine, breathe and food to those in scary times?

 

How does Jesus and the church stand in solidarity with those who step into deserts and droughts, into earthquakes and rubble?

 

Right now, a continent away is a young woman we have never met, who’s family is praying for her. 

 

How is Christ manifesting in the hands and feet, the tools and the machines of the rescuers, medics, fire fighters, neighbors, and ordinary volunteers who are racing against time brick by brick?

 

Jeremiah asks us to think about a land in pain, a city crying out, animals that are panting, and a God who seems to be a stranger, confused (Jeremiah 14:8-9).

 

The person who submitted today’s readings states in amazement how life keeps repeating, and why?

 

There is no satisfying answer to give at this moment, as my heart is swollen up and tears are in my eyes, but momentarily comfort comes in this-

 

That through Jesus, empowered by the Holy Spirit, none of these events have to be faced alone.

 

There are the actions of our hands and feet; there are the gifts of our wallets and pocketbooks.

 

There are the life-giving breaths in our words and prayers.

 

At the very least, there is our faith.

 

And often times, it is when we have nothing left to cling to, and nothing left to offer, it is our faith, and it is our words, that can make even the dryest desert a bit easier to navigate.

 

It is our faith in Christ that brings us calm.

 

Amen.