Let The Clown In

This is not a strategy. This is not planned. Not unlike life, it just happened. Ends up being a lesson only to myself. If some of you want to glance, go for it.

This morning, for reasons I don’t hide or know, I filtered through pictures, mostly long-ago pictures. And came upon this. And it messaged me. The moment when I was a clown. Here’s the picture:

Yep. Only the beard isn’t the result of cosmetic benefit.

I was a clown in a very creative worship service at Lakewood United Church of Christ in Lakewood, Colorado.

The worship theme was a circus. Our organist, James Yeager, then a PhD organ student at the University of Colorado—brilliant in his ministry with us—“dipped in quality music” and played circus music. Hey, he became a professor at a Roman Catholic Seminary in Columbus, Ohio and once, the anthem, “Peaceable Kingdom,” with 12 choir members and 8 parts, brought our worship to a new spiritual depth.

So. The Circus. In the worship many people were in trouble. The girl who was the pawn of a magician, as he lifted his sword, the calliopy music started and the clown entered and liberated her. The tight-rope walker almost fell, but the clown managed the trouble and led him to safety. The man bringing water to the elephants, slipped and fell. The clown picked him up and carried the water bucket for him.

In truth and in essence, the primary function of the clown was to deliver people from their woes…to set them free…to give them a worthier life in which and through which they could be who they are meant to be.

Then. We all, more than 200 of us, walked from the sanctuary to the courtyard, each of us holding a helium-filled balloon. The benediction was actually a cheer, “Hip, Hip Hooray,” as we then let go of the balloons. The sky wasn’t cluttered, it was filled with color, festive colors. And we then embraced.

My prayer is people remember that. Even more, although forty years ago, those still walking their lives over smooth and pocket-filled roads, know who THEY are, as individuals, is what really matters.

I then came upon this, sent from one of my balloon—filled friends, that brings me to today, Saturday September 14, 2019…the very essence…and my prayer is we might know, the clown—the spiritual presence of Christ, will always show up. Always.

About Mark H Miller

Diane and I live in Leander, Texas. This past June 17, 2015 I celebrated the 49th anniversary of my ordination. We returned to Texas after three years in Washington, during which I served as interim minister in Bellevue/Eastgate and Mercer Island. Am planning to begin a 5th novel that will have my protagonist, Tricia Gleason, serve a year in licensed ministry in Snoqualmie, Washington. The novel, "The Lemon Drop Didn't Melt," will find Tricia wrestling with ministry challenges. None of which more daunting than someone wanting her breathing to stop. All the published novels are available on Amazon and Amazon Kindle under Mark Henry Miller. A primary goal in our return to Texas is to make sure grandchildren get lots of attention--here and in Chicago and Washington, D.C. Traveling is definitely an activity that will not slow down. With that, of course, fishing will happen. To that the t-shirt is apt, "I fish; therefore I am." In addition to novels, the book of Blogs, "Voice Of My Heart," is also available on Amazon.
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