You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The stories we’ve read the past few weeks show a very busy Jesus, preaching to massive crowds, stilling a storm, healing many, restoring a young girl to life. Maybe he needed a break? A little of Mom’s home cooking? We don’t know why, but Mark tells us that his next move was to go home.
He left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joss and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him.
Whoever said familiarity breeds contempt was on to something. When people have known you for a long time, or before you became successful, they often feel they know the “real you” better than anyone else. They're too close to see you clearly. The people of Nazareth may have been proud to hear of Jesus’ exploits, but when he’s right there, teaching in their synagogue, they don’t seem able to celebrate his wisdom or his power. It makes them too uncomfortable to see him break out of the box they built for him.
Our viewpoint can be similar to that of Jesus’ neighbors – after all, many of us have known him all our lives, or at least known about him. We know his bio – his wondrous birth, horrific death, miraculous resurrection – even if we might be a bit muddy on what happens in between. Whatever our level of engagement with Jesus, it’s easy to put him in a box along with a lot of other preconceived notions we cling to.
But Jesus is ever breaking out of the boxes we build for him. As we begin to know the Jesus of the Gospels (not always the same as the culturally laden Jesus of the Church …), to hear for ourselves his often sardonic wisdom, to encounter the uncontainable power he brings even from beyond the grave, to recognize the claims he makes on us as people of faith who are to be seekers of justice… we might react like those townsfolk. “Who is this guy? I thought he was all about being a good person. You mean he’s really about undoing structures that hold back the less privileged? You mean he really asks me to lay down my prerogatives in the cause of peace? He’s really about healing my wounds, not just some lepers back then? Maybe I don’t want him near my wounds. Maybe I don’t want to tear down injustices when they benefit me or my people.”
If we have grown up with Jesus, the gentle shepherd in children’s bibles (as though shepherds don’t have to be fierce!), we might have to let a lot go and start fresh, seeking to know him in our lives now. We can start with our bibles – but that is not the end. To know him, we need to spend time in his presence, in prayer. If you’re not already in that habit, simply sit in a room with some quiet and say, “Come, Lord Jesus. What do you want for me today?” And do that again the next day, maybe write down what comes to you in that time of quiet encounter.
I have a feeling we’ll get an answer, and that can be the beginning, or the continuation, of an acquaintance that always breaks out of the box – and maybe even breaks us out of our own boxes.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-28-24 - Not Dead but Sleeping
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Remember Jairus, the synagogue leader who fell at Jesus’ feet, begging him to come and heal his dying daughter? Imagine what he felt as Jesus stopped on the way, asked who had touched him, and then held a conversation with some woman. He must have been in agony – his little girl was at death’s door, no time to waste! Why wasn’t Jesus moving?
And then, as can happen, his worst fears were realized: While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly.
What Jairus didn’t know, what none of the people keening at his house knew, was that this story was not yet over. Jesus knew this little girl’s life was not ended, that she was deeply asleep, perhaps in a coma. When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him.
This story had a happy outcome. But what about when someone has really and finally died? We don’t know what Jesus knows. Are we to pray for healing in the face of what looks like death? Sometimes… maybe more often than we do. Death is a reality of life, yes, and the power of God to heal is very real and very strong when communities exercise faith. The community around Jairus only saw death; Jesus saw life. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years old).
Jesus’ voice, his power, his Spirit were able to reach her spirit, and her spirit responded to his command. And she got up and began to walk about – a mini-prefiguring of Jesus’ later resurrection.
We are called to see life, even in the face of death, in situations and communities as well as in the dying. At times, that life is in the people around the person dying; sometimes the dying revive. (More rarely, even the recently dead revive…) When someone we know is gravely ill, we can ask the Spirit how to pray. If we feel a sense that physical healing can happen, invite the healing stream of God’s love into that person. I specify “physical healing,” because sometimes the healing a person receives is spiritual, preparing them for life after death.
These are great mysteries – if we knew how to “work it,” we’d all be doing it, right? That’s why it’s called faith; we don’t get a road map or guarantees. But we walk forward anyway. We can agonize about how long Jesus seems to be taking, but in the end he knows. That’s all we can count on – he knows.
At the end of this story of two dramatic healings, Jesus is delightfully practical. Looking at the young girl now well and out of bed, he says simply, “Give her something to eat.” Because Life goes on.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Remember Jairus, the synagogue leader who fell at Jesus’ feet, begging him to come and heal his dying daughter? Imagine what he felt as Jesus stopped on the way, asked who had touched him, and then held a conversation with some woman. He must have been in agony – his little girl was at death’s door, no time to waste! Why wasn’t Jesus moving?
And then, as can happen, his worst fears were realized: While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly.
What Jairus didn’t know, what none of the people keening at his house knew, was that this story was not yet over. Jesus knew this little girl’s life was not ended, that she was deeply asleep, perhaps in a coma. When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him.
This story had a happy outcome. But what about when someone has really and finally died? We don’t know what Jesus knows. Are we to pray for healing in the face of what looks like death? Sometimes… maybe more often than we do. Death is a reality of life, yes, and the power of God to heal is very real and very strong when communities exercise faith. The community around Jairus only saw death; Jesus saw life. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years old).
Jesus’ voice, his power, his Spirit were able to reach her spirit, and her spirit responded to his command. And she got up and began to walk about – a mini-prefiguring of Jesus’ later resurrection.
We are called to see life, even in the face of death, in situations and communities as well as in the dying. At times, that life is in the people around the person dying; sometimes the dying revive. (More rarely, even the recently dead revive…) When someone we know is gravely ill, we can ask the Spirit how to pray. If we feel a sense that physical healing can happen, invite the healing stream of God’s love into that person. I specify “physical healing,” because sometimes the healing a person receives is spiritual, preparing them for life after death.
These are great mysteries – if we knew how to “work it,” we’d all be doing it, right? That’s why it’s called faith; we don’t get a road map or guarantees. But we walk forward anyway. We can agonize about how long Jesus seems to be taking, but in the end he knows. That’s all we can count on – he knows.
At the end of this story of two dramatic healings, Jesus is delightfully practical. Looking at the young girl now well and out of bed, he says simply, “Give her something to eat.” Because Life goes on.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-27-24 - Into the Light
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The woman who crept forward in the crowd to touch Jesus’ garment, believing that his spiritual power to heal was so great even his clothes would be charged with it, felt immediately that her bleeding had stopped. Twelve years of hemorrhage from what today might be diagnosed as uterine fibroids, and just like that, she felt the flow stop. She knew she was healed. She began to make her way out of the crowd again, rejoicing, yet unable to tell anyone what she’d done.
But she was not to make a neat escape. For Jesus felt the power go out of him as vividly as she felt the healing take hold – Mark uses the word “immediately” to describe both their experiences. And Jesus wanted to know who had touched his clothes. He looked all round to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
This is even braver than her stealth power grab. She could have pulled a “Who, me?” and kept moving until she was safely away. But something made her come forward and reveal herself. Which meant revealing the whole truth – of her embarrassing disease, her impurity in the eyes of the religious law, her attempt to remain anonymous. She had too much integrity to sneak away. And maybe she also felt too much gratitude. So she came forward into the light, fearful, humble and probably humiliated, falling at his feet just as Jairus had done. And Jesus affirmed her faith and confirmed her healing – a complete healing, in body and spirit. Now she could go in peace, for the first time in a very long time.
Are there burdens or infirmities of mind or body that you have carried for a long time? Illness? Chronic pain? Anxieties, resentments, disappointments, shame, poverty, disease, fear of disease? Can you imagine feeling freed of that burden? That is what happened for that woman. I believe God wants us to experience the same freedom and peace.
One step is to reach out for healing as she did. The next is to come fully into the light of Jesus’ presence, to tell our whole story – either directly in prayer, or mediated to another person of faith – and open ourselves to God’s mercy. It is hard to relinquish control like that. Yet so many have found it to be the beginning of freedom and wholeness. That is where every addict begins recovery, and I suspect it is a universal principle, that we need to surface and bring into the light all that holds us back from experiencing the fullness of love and life God desires for us.
That includes confessing our sin, being willing to forgive others and ourselves. And it means telling our stories, getting them out of the storage bins in our psyche and into the light, shared with others to bring life and hope to their lives. More and more in our day we are recovering the power of story to bring healing – for survivors of abuse or crime, gang members breaking free, people in recovery, even in courtrooms for nations seeking to heal after decades of corruption and violence. The Truth and Reconciliation movement that began in South Africa after apartheid, and has been successfully implemented elsewhere, is based on telling hard stories and having them heard. Amazing freedom and healing can flow from that simple act.
Our unnamed woman was healed in body before she came forward. In telling her story, she opened herself up to the full healing Jesus had for her, wholeness in mind and spirit. That can be our gift, as we share our stories and invite healing in.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
The woman who crept forward in the crowd to touch Jesus’ garment, believing that his spiritual power to heal was so great even his clothes would be charged with it, felt immediately that her bleeding had stopped. Twelve years of hemorrhage from what today might be diagnosed as uterine fibroids, and just like that, she felt the flow stop. She knew she was healed. She began to make her way out of the crowd again, rejoicing, yet unable to tell anyone what she’d done.
But she was not to make a neat escape. For Jesus felt the power go out of him as vividly as she felt the healing take hold – Mark uses the word “immediately” to describe both their experiences. And Jesus wanted to know who had touched his clothes. He looked all round to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
This is even braver than her stealth power grab. She could have pulled a “Who, me?” and kept moving until she was safely away. But something made her come forward and reveal herself. Which meant revealing the whole truth – of her embarrassing disease, her impurity in the eyes of the religious law, her attempt to remain anonymous. She had too much integrity to sneak away. And maybe she also felt too much gratitude. So she came forward into the light, fearful, humble and probably humiliated, falling at his feet just as Jairus had done. And Jesus affirmed her faith and confirmed her healing – a complete healing, in body and spirit. Now she could go in peace, for the first time in a very long time.
Are there burdens or infirmities of mind or body that you have carried for a long time? Illness? Chronic pain? Anxieties, resentments, disappointments, shame, poverty, disease, fear of disease? Can you imagine feeling freed of that burden? That is what happened for that woman. I believe God wants us to experience the same freedom and peace.
One step is to reach out for healing as she did. The next is to come fully into the light of Jesus’ presence, to tell our whole story – either directly in prayer, or mediated to another person of faith – and open ourselves to God’s mercy. It is hard to relinquish control like that. Yet so many have found it to be the beginning of freedom and wholeness. That is where every addict begins recovery, and I suspect it is a universal principle, that we need to surface and bring into the light all that holds us back from experiencing the fullness of love and life God desires for us.
That includes confessing our sin, being willing to forgive others and ourselves. And it means telling our stories, getting them out of the storage bins in our psyche and into the light, shared with others to bring life and hope to their lives. More and more in our day we are recovering the power of story to bring healing – for survivors of abuse or crime, gang members breaking free, people in recovery, even in courtrooms for nations seeking to heal after decades of corruption and violence. The Truth and Reconciliation movement that began in South Africa after apartheid, and has been successfully implemented elsewhere, is based on telling hard stories and having them heard. Amazing freedom and healing can flow from that simple act.
Our unnamed woman was healed in body before she came forward. In telling her story, she opened herself up to the full healing Jesus had for her, wholeness in mind and spirit. That can be our gift, as we share our stories and invite healing in.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-26-24 - Christ the Transformer
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I once served a congregation which was a merger between two parishes. They had just stuck the two names together, resulting in one that was long, theologically confusing and hard for many to remember. I suggested that we choose a new name to reflect our new life. The question then became: what? On the way to “Christ the Healer,” which is what we became, we went through quite a few ideas. The name I most wanted to use, would it not have required so much explaining, was “Christ the Transformer.”
In this week’s gospel story, when the unseen woman who suffered from incessant bleeding touched Jesus' clothes in hopes of being healed, he says he felt power go out from him: Immediately her haemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, "Who touched my clothes?"
How amazing that Jesus could feel something had happened to him in that moment, and knew someone had touched his clothes. His disciples are incredulous, saying to him, "You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, “Who touched me?”'"
Beyond that awareness, though, is the fact that he felt energy transfer from him to another person. This is yet another bible passage suggesting that God is pure energy, of a frequency we could not withstand were it not mediated for us. And that is what an electric transformer does: it takes energy running on one current and transforms it so it can be used by appliances wired for a different current. Transformers were common in my house when we lived overseas.
Jesus was the Transformer extraordinaire, taking the energy current that birthed the universe and translating, mediating, making it usable for God’s creatures. Even so, we can find the current too strong; that’s why sometimes people rest in the Spirit during Pentecostal services, or we feel heat or tingling when we pray. Part of what it means to grow in faith is to build up our capacity to hold and channel a higher and higher frequency of spiritual power.
For we too are transformers, as we grow into the likeness and ministry of Christ. We too receive the power of the heavens and transform it into a current that “runs appliances” – lifting up the lowly, healing the infirm, forgiving the unforgivable, feeding the forgotten. Every single time we exercise faith in the name of Christ, we are mediating the power of the heavens to bring transformation and life to the things and creatures and people of this world.
Where have you been a transformer lately? Where are you called to mediate the power of heaven into someone’s life?
Every time we invoke the Spirit of God in prayer, in worship, in witness, we bring the heavenly into the earthly. We allow God to redeem, renew, revive, restore all things to wholeness. Even this broken world. Even our broken hearts. The power of God has gone out through us – can you feel it?
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
I once served a congregation which was a merger between two parishes. They had just stuck the two names together, resulting in one that was long, theologically confusing and hard for many to remember. I suggested that we choose a new name to reflect our new life. The question then became: what? On the way to “Christ the Healer,” which is what we became, we went through quite a few ideas. The name I most wanted to use, would it not have required so much explaining, was “Christ the Transformer.”
In this week’s gospel story, when the unseen woman who suffered from incessant bleeding touched Jesus' clothes in hopes of being healed, he says he felt power go out from him: Immediately her haemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, "Who touched my clothes?"
How amazing that Jesus could feel something had happened to him in that moment, and knew someone had touched his clothes. His disciples are incredulous, saying to him, "You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, “Who touched me?”'"
Beyond that awareness, though, is the fact that he felt energy transfer from him to another person. This is yet another bible passage suggesting that God is pure energy, of a frequency we could not withstand were it not mediated for us. And that is what an electric transformer does: it takes energy running on one current and transforms it so it can be used by appliances wired for a different current. Transformers were common in my house when we lived overseas.
Jesus was the Transformer extraordinaire, taking the energy current that birthed the universe and translating, mediating, making it usable for God’s creatures. Even so, we can find the current too strong; that’s why sometimes people rest in the Spirit during Pentecostal services, or we feel heat or tingling when we pray. Part of what it means to grow in faith is to build up our capacity to hold and channel a higher and higher frequency of spiritual power.
For we too are transformers, as we grow into the likeness and ministry of Christ. We too receive the power of the heavens and transform it into a current that “runs appliances” – lifting up the lowly, healing the infirm, forgiving the unforgivable, feeding the forgotten. Every single time we exercise faith in the name of Christ, we are mediating the power of the heavens to bring transformation and life to the things and creatures and people of this world.
Where have you been a transformer lately? Where are you called to mediate the power of heaven into someone’s life?
Every time we invoke the Spirit of God in prayer, in worship, in witness, we bring the heavenly into the earthly. We allow God to redeem, renew, revive, restore all things to wholeness. Even this broken world. Even our broken hearts. The power of God has gone out through us – can you feel it?
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-25-24 - Stealing a Healing
You can listen to this reflection here.
This Sunday’s gospel story is a tale with many twists. It begins as Jesus returns across the Sea of Galilee, greeted by multitudes. Jairus, a synagogue leader, claws through the crowd to fall at Jesus’ feet, begging him to come to his house and heal his daughter, who lays dying. Jesus agrees – and the whole crowd follows along, pressing in on Jesus and his disciples.
In this crowd is another person in desperate need of healing, but where Jairus could be public about his request, this woman cannot let anyone know. For one thing, she is a woman, a person of little status in that culture. For another, she suffers from perpetual bleeding. This not only makes her ill; it renders her ritually unclean – anyone touching her would also be made unclean and thus unable to go to the temple until they’d been cleansed.
So she sets out to “steal a healing,” going low in the crowd, making her way closer and closer to Jesus’ feet, so she can just touch the hem of his cloak as he goes past, and avoid “contaminating” him.
Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.”
Was this woman driven by faith – or did she, like many of us, turn to the Healer only when conventional methods failed her? Twelve years of medical treatment with no improvement – that's a familiar story. Many are willing to try procedures with only a 10 percent rate of success, but rely on prayer? That’s way too risky!
I love the way this woman, like Jairus, is determined to get what she needs, and how much she believes in Jesus’ power to heal her. I think of her as a base runner stealing third, trying to get to her goal undetected. Her faith is so strong she knows that the merest touch of his clothes will access the power that heals. And her faith is rewarded – she feels the healing in her body at the instant of her act of faith. She knows, without a doubt, that healing is hers.
When have you or I last prayed with such faith about something that mattered deeply to us? It can feel risky because we are not supported by a culture in which such acts of faith are considered normal or rational. But in communities that uphold healing, that actively invite the power of the Spirit into those who are ill in body, mind or spirit, it is a wholly acceptable, faith-building practice.
We don’t need to steal healing – it has been freely offered to us, a healing stream of living water always flowing in us and around us, into which we can step at will, in faith, in fear, in trust, in doubt. We don’t always see the fullness of the healing we desire in this life. Yet we see a lot more when we do what this woman did – just reach out and take hold.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
This Sunday’s gospel story is a tale with many twists. It begins as Jesus returns across the Sea of Galilee, greeted by multitudes. Jairus, a synagogue leader, claws through the crowd to fall at Jesus’ feet, begging him to come to his house and heal his daughter, who lays dying. Jesus agrees – and the whole crowd follows along, pressing in on Jesus and his disciples.
In this crowd is another person in desperate need of healing, but where Jairus could be public about his request, this woman cannot let anyone know. For one thing, she is a woman, a person of little status in that culture. For another, she suffers from perpetual bleeding. This not only makes her ill; it renders her ritually unclean – anyone touching her would also be made unclean and thus unable to go to the temple until they’d been cleansed.
So she sets out to “steal a healing,” going low in the crowd, making her way closer and closer to Jesus’ feet, so she can just touch the hem of his cloak as he goes past, and avoid “contaminating” him.
Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.”
Was this woman driven by faith – or did she, like many of us, turn to the Healer only when conventional methods failed her? Twelve years of medical treatment with no improvement – that's a familiar story. Many are willing to try procedures with only a 10 percent rate of success, but rely on prayer? That’s way too risky!
I love the way this woman, like Jairus, is determined to get what she needs, and how much she believes in Jesus’ power to heal her. I think of her as a base runner stealing third, trying to get to her goal undetected. Her faith is so strong she knows that the merest touch of his clothes will access the power that heals. And her faith is rewarded – she feels the healing in her body at the instant of her act of faith. She knows, without a doubt, that healing is hers.
When have you or I last prayed with such faith about something that mattered deeply to us? It can feel risky because we are not supported by a culture in which such acts of faith are considered normal or rational. But in communities that uphold healing, that actively invite the power of the Spirit into those who are ill in body, mind or spirit, it is a wholly acceptable, faith-building practice.
We don’t need to steal healing – it has been freely offered to us, a healing stream of living water always flowing in us and around us, into which we can step at will, in faith, in fear, in trust, in doubt. We don’t always see the fullness of the healing we desire in this life. Yet we see a lot more when we do what this woman did – just reach out and take hold.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-24-24 - Ain't Too Proud To Beg
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Last week we crossed the Sea of Galilee with Jesus and his disciples. This week he crosses back to where he started, and again he is met at the lakeshore by a crowd, hungry for his teaching and healing. There are even some religious leaders there, full of faith in Jesus’ power to heal: When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered round him; and he was by the lake. Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” So he went with him.
I am moved by the humility of this synagogue leader whose name has been handed down along with his story – that doesn’t happen with everyone in the Gospels, as we will see in the second part of this week’s reading. This Jairus is completely and utterly focused on getting help for his daughter. He falls at Jesus’ feet, and begs him – repeatedly, we’re told – to come and heal his beloved daughter.
This is what I do when I am anxious and distraught about someone or something – I repeat over and over, “Please Jesus, please, please be where I cannot be; please fill this person (or cat…) with your healing love.” Only when I've heard things are better do I slow it down to every other waking thought.
All Jairus could think of was getting help for his dying daughter – and most likely Jesus was his last hopet. I can imagine him see the boat returning, the seemingly endless minutes until it put ashore and Jesus disembarked. And then the crowd gathering around – Jairus had to push his way through, fall at Jesus’ feet and beg. That begging tells us he had faith that Jesus could, just by laying his hands upon his little girl, make her well, give her life. This wasn’t just desperation, it was faith. And Jesus honored it.
What in your life do you want as badly as Jairus wanted his daughter to live? Are you willing to throw yourself at Jesus’ feet? Jesus doesn't need for us to humble ourselves like that. We need to be that humble, willing to lay aside our dignity, our disappointments, our doubts, and just let the prayers rise from our gut, even when we don’t know what will happen. As we’ll see, Jairus’ story takes a few more turns before he knows the outcome.
Sometimes I have prayed like this, desperately, completely, full of faith in what I know God can do, and not seen the outcome I wanted with all my heart; the answer was not the life I wanted to see. Now I know that to pray in faith means to expect blessing, even if it’s not the one we look for.
And I know this: when we fall at Jesus’ feet, praying over and over again, we’re as close to him as we can get. That can help us live through the outcomes we grieve and those in which we rejoice.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Last week we crossed the Sea of Galilee with Jesus and his disciples. This week he crosses back to where he started, and again he is met at the lakeshore by a crowd, hungry for his teaching and healing. There are even some religious leaders there, full of faith in Jesus’ power to heal: When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered round him; and he was by the lake. Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” So he went with him.
I am moved by the humility of this synagogue leader whose name has been handed down along with his story – that doesn’t happen with everyone in the Gospels, as we will see in the second part of this week’s reading. This Jairus is completely and utterly focused on getting help for his daughter. He falls at Jesus’ feet, and begs him – repeatedly, we’re told – to come and heal his beloved daughter.
This is what I do when I am anxious and distraught about someone or something – I repeat over and over, “Please Jesus, please, please be where I cannot be; please fill this person (or cat…) with your healing love.” Only when I've heard things are better do I slow it down to every other waking thought.
All Jairus could think of was getting help for his dying daughter – and most likely Jesus was his last hopet. I can imagine him see the boat returning, the seemingly endless minutes until it put ashore and Jesus disembarked. And then the crowd gathering around – Jairus had to push his way through, fall at Jesus’ feet and beg. That begging tells us he had faith that Jesus could, just by laying his hands upon his little girl, make her well, give her life. This wasn’t just desperation, it was faith. And Jesus honored it.
What in your life do you want as badly as Jairus wanted his daughter to live? Are you willing to throw yourself at Jesus’ feet? Jesus doesn't need for us to humble ourselves like that. We need to be that humble, willing to lay aside our dignity, our disappointments, our doubts, and just let the prayers rise from our gut, even when we don’t know what will happen. As we’ll see, Jairus’ story takes a few more turns before he knows the outcome.
Sometimes I have prayed like this, desperately, completely, full of faith in what I know God can do, and not seen the outcome I wanted with all my heart; the answer was not the life I wanted to see. Now I know that to pray in faith means to expect blessing, even if it’s not the one we look for.
And I know this: when we fall at Jesus’ feet, praying over and over again, we’re as close to him as we can get. That can help us live through the outcomes we grieve and those in which we rejoice.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-21-24 - Where Is Your Faith?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When I am in a crisis of fear, I know the roller coaster ride, that cycle of anxiety, getting to calm (usually in response to good news, not because of my faith…), then being jolted back to panic by the next bit of less-good news. It can be hard to put my trust in Jesus in the face of all the information coming in. I deserve the words Jesus had for his disciples once the seas were still: “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’”
Why does fear grip us? Because when winds whip up and waves crest our bow, that’s all we can see. And anxious situations do more than define our present – they dominate our thoughts of the future as well. And the past, where so often we’ve been delivered from what we most feared? That recedes when the thunder and lightning start.
How can we stay focused on the One in the stern rather than the storm all around us? There’s an interesting “throwaway” line at the start of this story: “They took [Jesus] with them in the boat, just as he was.” What does that mean? How else would they take him? Why did Mark include that odd detail?
We always get Jesus with us “just as he is,” which is rarely how we expect him to be. He is so different from us, so unfazed by what troubles us. He may be compassionate, but he is never hooked by the anxiety swirling around us. So in difficult times, we can ask him to reveal himself in that situation “just as he is,” to let us see his reaction so we can borrow that instead of staying locked in our own fear.
And then, when we experience the peace we so badly need, we can take our cue from the disciples: And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’"
We need to speak of our experiences and tell everyone around us, not forget about it the minute the crisis is over. Our stories of deliverance might sound crazy – the car crashes avoided, the people strategically placed as we navigate a crisis - but so did the disciples when they told of the storm and the sudden calm. Yet many must have heard that story and believed it, for it was passed along and shared and finally written down by Mark, from whom Matthew and Luke got it… and so to us.
We have this story to build our faith. We need to tell each other our “God stories” to build each other’s faith. Bigger storms may come, but we can allow ourselves to come to know and trust this Jesus of Nazareth, who lives among us even now, who can command the wind and the sea – and even our feeble human hearts when we say "yes."
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
When I am in a crisis of fear, I know the roller coaster ride, that cycle of anxiety, getting to calm (usually in response to good news, not because of my faith…), then being jolted back to panic by the next bit of less-good news. It can be hard to put my trust in Jesus in the face of all the information coming in. I deserve the words Jesus had for his disciples once the seas were still: “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’”
Why does fear grip us? Because when winds whip up and waves crest our bow, that’s all we can see. And anxious situations do more than define our present – they dominate our thoughts of the future as well. And the past, where so often we’ve been delivered from what we most feared? That recedes when the thunder and lightning start.
How can we stay focused on the One in the stern rather than the storm all around us? There’s an interesting “throwaway” line at the start of this story: “They took [Jesus] with them in the boat, just as he was.” What does that mean? How else would they take him? Why did Mark include that odd detail?
We always get Jesus with us “just as he is,” which is rarely how we expect him to be. He is so different from us, so unfazed by what troubles us. He may be compassionate, but he is never hooked by the anxiety swirling around us. So in difficult times, we can ask him to reveal himself in that situation “just as he is,” to let us see his reaction so we can borrow that instead of staying locked in our own fear.
And then, when we experience the peace we so badly need, we can take our cue from the disciples: And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’"
We need to speak of our experiences and tell everyone around us, not forget about it the minute the crisis is over. Our stories of deliverance might sound crazy – the car crashes avoided, the people strategically placed as we navigate a crisis - but so did the disciples when they told of the storm and the sudden calm. Yet many must have heard that story and believed it, for it was passed along and shared and finally written down by Mark, from whom Matthew and Luke got it… and so to us.
We have this story to build our faith. We need to tell each other our “God stories” to build each other’s faith. Bigger storms may come, but we can allow ourselves to come to know and trust this Jesus of Nazareth, who lives among us even now, who can command the wind and the sea – and even our feeble human hearts when we say "yes."
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-20-24 - Calm
You can listen to this reflection here.
Sometimes it seems like God can take an awfully long time to swing into action. Maybe that’s because things that seem insurmountable to us are just a matter of a word for God, and what strikes us as nail-bitingly late is right on time for the Creator of the universe.
In this week’s gospel story, when the disciples find themselves imperiled in a sudden squall on the Sea of Galilee, and they discover Jesus in the stern, blithely sleeping through all the excitement, they wake him up, saying, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ Jesus does not get up and join the hysteria. He just calmly exercises his authority over creation: He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm.
One word from Jesus, and it all died down. No more wind, no more waves, no more panicked heartbeats. In fact, we’re told, there was a dead calm. It went not back to normal, but to a complete calm. Jesus did not have to pray in a dramatic fashion, whip up a frenzy of faith, plead with the heavens – he just calmly spoke peace to the elements, and his word had the power to calm, to make things so still it could only have been by his action – Jesus doesn’t do things by halves.
But why did he wait so long? Well – was it so long? Didn’t Jesus act as soon as he was asked? The better question might be, why did the disciples take so long to ask for help? Why do we so often get ourselves into a state, deep into a difficult situation before we think to ask Jesus for help?
Reading the news can put me into spasms of anxiety and outright fear. Each time I remember to invite Christ’s peace to fill me and overwhelm the fear; every time I invoke the perfect love that casts out fear, I come into calm. Sometimes I remind another to do that, and others remind me, and pray for me. Christian community is a wonderful gift that way.
Peacefulness and calm are markers of God-Life. Not that the Spirit is some kind of spiritual Prozac, evening everything out – Jesus certainly displayed emotions like righteous anger, grief, praise. But storminess is not the way of God. A Lord who can rebuke the wind and command the sea is a Lord who can still our spirits, as we ask, and as we allow.
Maybe the reason it sometimes takes us so long to feel his peace is because our spirits, with all their freedom, are not yet as responsive to Jesus’ command as are the winds and waves.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Sometimes it seems like God can take an awfully long time to swing into action. Maybe that’s because things that seem insurmountable to us are just a matter of a word for God, and what strikes us as nail-bitingly late is right on time for the Creator of the universe.
In this week’s gospel story, when the disciples find themselves imperiled in a sudden squall on the Sea of Galilee, and they discover Jesus in the stern, blithely sleeping through all the excitement, they wake him up, saying, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ Jesus does not get up and join the hysteria. He just calmly exercises his authority over creation: He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm.
One word from Jesus, and it all died down. No more wind, no more waves, no more panicked heartbeats. In fact, we’re told, there was a dead calm. It went not back to normal, but to a complete calm. Jesus did not have to pray in a dramatic fashion, whip up a frenzy of faith, plead with the heavens – he just calmly spoke peace to the elements, and his word had the power to calm, to make things so still it could only have been by his action – Jesus doesn’t do things by halves.
But why did he wait so long? Well – was it so long? Didn’t Jesus act as soon as he was asked? The better question might be, why did the disciples take so long to ask for help? Why do we so often get ourselves into a state, deep into a difficult situation before we think to ask Jesus for help?
Reading the news can put me into spasms of anxiety and outright fear. Each time I remember to invite Christ’s peace to fill me and overwhelm the fear; every time I invoke the perfect love that casts out fear, I come into calm. Sometimes I remind another to do that, and others remind me, and pray for me. Christian community is a wonderful gift that way.
Peacefulness and calm are markers of God-Life. Not that the Spirit is some kind of spiritual Prozac, evening everything out – Jesus certainly displayed emotions like righteous anger, grief, praise. But storminess is not the way of God. A Lord who can rebuke the wind and command the sea is a Lord who can still our spirits, as we ask, and as we allow.
Maybe the reason it sometimes takes us so long to feel his peace is because our spirits, with all their freedom, are not yet as responsive to Jesus’ command as are the winds and waves.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-19-24 - Don't You Care, God?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Fear has a way of taking over so that danger is all we can see. And, like most forms of misery, fear loves company, intensifying as it multiplies. Together, we can come up with many more scenarios of doom than we can alone, right? And when we’re in that cycle, it can almost be an affront to encounter someone who’s not hooked by the anxiety of the moment, who is calm or hopeful. “What’s the matter with you?” we cry. “Can’t you see how bad this is?”
That’s how Jesus’ disciples reacted as the squall blew up and the waves swamped their little boat. (The boat is always little when we’re afraid, isn’t it? I’ve been in 50-foot waves in a storm in the North Atlantic, in an ocean liner, the water in its pool sloshing around like someone’s martini – and I’m sure people felt that boat was small…) The reality of the storm was so great, they forgot the power of the man they had with them. "But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ They were outraged at his lack of concern, took his refusal to join the chorus of doom as a sign of uncaring. “How can you sleep for God’s sake?!? Don’t you care that we’re going to die?”
Does that ring a familiar note for you? When things go really wrong, that is often my response, to pray, “How could you let this happen, God? Don’t you care?” Are there situations you have faced or do currently that cause you to ask, “Lord, don’t you care?” I hope you take that question right to God. It is way better to pray that than to turn away in disappointment and resignation, to allow your faith to be depleted. It’s also good to invite other people in to our crises – not so we can feed each other’s fear, but so we can strengthen each other’s faith, so we can believe for one another when faith seems hard to find.
“Don’t you care, God?” in the face of difficulty or danger or despair is a close cousin to “How could God allow suffering,” probably the number one question people ask when resisting faith in God. A friend told me about a conversation with her mother, who suffers from dementia. My friend was wondering why a perfect God wouldn’t have made a happier world. When she said “Why would a good God allow so much suffering?” her mother answered right away, “Oh honey, I think we are the ones who do that.”
Best answer to that question I’ve ever heard. Humans have a tremendous capacity to allow, even to inflict suffering. That's where it comes from. The God who gave us free will does not prevent the squalls, or cancer, car accidents, pandemics or wars. Oh, sometimes when we pray specifically that certain harms be avoided, they are. But generally we find ourselves praying from the midst of hurt or crisis.
Our God is not in the prevention business. God is about redemption. God redeems situations into which God’s life and power is invited. God renews us when our faith is flagging. God brings life out of death – death is still there, but it’s not the end of the story. We need to be willing to believe in a bigger story. With the help of the Holy Spirit, we can be not agents of suffering or fear, but agents of God’s love, coming together to heal damage, sow hope, banish fear. All we need is love.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Fear has a way of taking over so that danger is all we can see. And, like most forms of misery, fear loves company, intensifying as it multiplies. Together, we can come up with many more scenarios of doom than we can alone, right? And when we’re in that cycle, it can almost be an affront to encounter someone who’s not hooked by the anxiety of the moment, who is calm or hopeful. “What’s the matter with you?” we cry. “Can’t you see how bad this is?”
That’s how Jesus’ disciples reacted as the squall blew up and the waves swamped their little boat. (The boat is always little when we’re afraid, isn’t it? I’ve been in 50-foot waves in a storm in the North Atlantic, in an ocean liner, the water in its pool sloshing around like someone’s martini – and I’m sure people felt that boat was small…) The reality of the storm was so great, they forgot the power of the man they had with them. "But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ They were outraged at his lack of concern, took his refusal to join the chorus of doom as a sign of uncaring. “How can you sleep for God’s sake?!? Don’t you care that we’re going to die?”
Does that ring a familiar note for you? When things go really wrong, that is often my response, to pray, “How could you let this happen, God? Don’t you care?” Are there situations you have faced or do currently that cause you to ask, “Lord, don’t you care?” I hope you take that question right to God. It is way better to pray that than to turn away in disappointment and resignation, to allow your faith to be depleted. It’s also good to invite other people in to our crises – not so we can feed each other’s fear, but so we can strengthen each other’s faith, so we can believe for one another when faith seems hard to find.
“Don’t you care, God?” in the face of difficulty or danger or despair is a close cousin to “How could God allow suffering,” probably the number one question people ask when resisting faith in God. A friend told me about a conversation with her mother, who suffers from dementia. My friend was wondering why a perfect God wouldn’t have made a happier world. When she said “Why would a good God allow so much suffering?” her mother answered right away, “Oh honey, I think we are the ones who do that.”
Best answer to that question I’ve ever heard. Humans have a tremendous capacity to allow, even to inflict suffering. That's where it comes from. The God who gave us free will does not prevent the squalls, or cancer, car accidents, pandemics or wars. Oh, sometimes when we pray specifically that certain harms be avoided, they are. But generally we find ourselves praying from the midst of hurt or crisis.
Our God is not in the prevention business. God is about redemption. God redeems situations into which God’s life and power is invited. God renews us when our faith is flagging. God brings life out of death – death is still there, but it’s not the end of the story. We need to be willing to believe in a bigger story. With the help of the Holy Spirit, we can be not agents of suffering or fear, but agents of God’s love, coming together to heal damage, sow hope, banish fear. All we need is love.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-18-24 - Swamped
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
We often use “swamped” to describe our schedule or workload. Its essential meaning is scarier – a boat getting covered by water in a big wave, making everything wet and at risk of capsizing or being swept away - literally overwhelmed. There are times in our lives when we get swamped, and by lot more than work.
Our current times are “swampy” for many – emerging from a global pandemic, with new viral threats appearing all the time; a rancorous election and extreme political divisions threatening our civil order; a virulent resurfacing of racist speech and action; the promise and dangers of AI and new technology; extreme weather and further evidence of irreparable harm to our earth and environment – our decks are swamped regularly. It’s scary how suddenly we can go from battling a strong head wind to being buffeted in a gale.
Which kind of puts us in the boat with those disciples. “A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped.”
We need to remember who they had along in that boat – the Lord of heaven and earth. Though he didn't seem to be much help: "But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion."
The best thing we can do when we’re overwhelmed by fear or adversity is to stay as close as possible to that guy asleep on the cushion, because he has power we do not have; he has peace we cannot manufacture; he has love way bigger than our fear. As the bible reminds us, "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear...” (I John 4:18a) We can, like those disciples, call on Jesus to rise up, not to join the anxiety, but to calmly command the winds to cease and the waves to be still.
Are there situations in your life in which you feel your boat is being swamped by the wind-whipped waves? Can you recall the times when the storm was stilled? Bishop Gene Robinson was once quoted as saying something like, “Sometimes God stills the storm, and sometimes God stills us within the storm.”
Many of these storms are still with us. Yet we can sail on, for we know that the God-Life is one of peace amidst unpeaceful circumstances, love in the face of fear. I pray we hold so firmly to that love that fear cannot gain a foothold.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
We often use “swamped” to describe our schedule or workload. Its essential meaning is scarier – a boat getting covered by water in a big wave, making everything wet and at risk of capsizing or being swept away - literally overwhelmed. There are times in our lives when we get swamped, and by lot more than work.
Our current times are “swampy” for many – emerging from a global pandemic, with new viral threats appearing all the time; a rancorous election and extreme political divisions threatening our civil order; a virulent resurfacing of racist speech and action; the promise and dangers of AI and new technology; extreme weather and further evidence of irreparable harm to our earth and environment – our decks are swamped regularly. It’s scary how suddenly we can go from battling a strong head wind to being buffeted in a gale.
Which kind of puts us in the boat with those disciples. “A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped.”
We need to remember who they had along in that boat – the Lord of heaven and earth. Though he didn't seem to be much help: "But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion."
The best thing we can do when we’re overwhelmed by fear or adversity is to stay as close as possible to that guy asleep on the cushion, because he has power we do not have; he has peace we cannot manufacture; he has love way bigger than our fear. As the bible reminds us, "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear...” (I John 4:18a) We can, like those disciples, call on Jesus to rise up, not to join the anxiety, but to calmly command the winds to cease and the waves to be still.
Are there situations in your life in which you feel your boat is being swamped by the wind-whipped waves? Can you recall the times when the storm was stilled? Bishop Gene Robinson was once quoted as saying something like, “Sometimes God stills the storm, and sometimes God stills us within the storm.”
Many of these storms are still with us. Yet we can sail on, for we know that the God-Life is one of peace amidst unpeaceful circumstances, love in the face of fear. I pray we hold so firmly to that love that fear cannot gain a foothold.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-17-24 - To the Other Side
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This week we get a wonderful and dramatic story from the Gospels – the tale of Jesus quieting a storm. It’s not a long story, so we can really sink our teeth into it and chew a bit. The set-up is simple – in the evening, after a busy day of ministry, Jesus says to his disciples, “Let us go across to the other side.”
The other side of what, we might ask? The other side of the lake, the Sea of Galilee. That’s the surface answer. But words like “the other side” and "crossing," invite us to think of liminal spaces, thresholds, boundaries, transitions from one mode of being or understanding into another. Crossing water evokes classic dream interpretation, in which water often stands for the unconscious, depths, mysteries that must be navigated in order for healing and growth to occur. None of that may have been in Mark’s mind when those words were written, but that simple phrase can set up many echoes.
We are always facing journeys and transitions to new conditions, new relationships, new understandings of our lives and ourselves and the God who made us. We make these journeys in whatever craft are available to carry us, and there is always some risk of wind and weather. Even more, there is a risk of death, and that we will be changed. Change is an inevitable consequence of growth. We are altered, expanded, exposed to new perspectives and ways of seeing. We let some things die or find they are taken from us, and in that emptiness and grief we might find space for new life. We are ever invited across the sea, the deep, the threshold to a new place.
The alternative is staying where we are. Sometimes we exercise that option for a long time, staying stuck in jobs, relationships, habits, addictions, ways of being or thinking, long after they have ceased to be life-giving.
What expanses do you need to cross in your life at this time, or have crossed recently?
Are there areas of life in which you feel stuck?
Are you being invited into a boat, and ready to put out to sea, even if there might be a storm brewing?
Are you being asked to cross over to see an opposing view on a matter that you care deeply about?
We do not go alone - we go with Jesus, who came in the boat "just as he was." Just as He Is, he is with us.
I’m reminded of a quote which Edwin Friedman cites in his great book, A Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix: “The safest place for ships is in the harbor. But that’s not why ships were built.”
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
This week we get a wonderful and dramatic story from the Gospels – the tale of Jesus quieting a storm. It’s not a long story, so we can really sink our teeth into it and chew a bit. The set-up is simple – in the evening, after a busy day of ministry, Jesus says to his disciples, “Let us go across to the other side.”
The other side of what, we might ask? The other side of the lake, the Sea of Galilee. That’s the surface answer. But words like “the other side” and "crossing," invite us to think of liminal spaces, thresholds, boundaries, transitions from one mode of being or understanding into another. Crossing water evokes classic dream interpretation, in which water often stands for the unconscious, depths, mysteries that must be navigated in order for healing and growth to occur. None of that may have been in Mark’s mind when those words were written, but that simple phrase can set up many echoes.
We are always facing journeys and transitions to new conditions, new relationships, new understandings of our lives and ourselves and the God who made us. We make these journeys in whatever craft are available to carry us, and there is always some risk of wind and weather. Even more, there is a risk of death, and that we will be changed. Change is an inevitable consequence of growth. We are altered, expanded, exposed to new perspectives and ways of seeing. We let some things die or find they are taken from us, and in that emptiness and grief we might find space for new life. We are ever invited across the sea, the deep, the threshold to a new place.
The alternative is staying where we are. Sometimes we exercise that option for a long time, staying stuck in jobs, relationships, habits, addictions, ways of being or thinking, long after they have ceased to be life-giving.
What expanses do you need to cross in your life at this time, or have crossed recently?
Are there areas of life in which you feel stuck?
Are you being invited into a boat, and ready to put out to sea, even if there might be a storm brewing?
Are you being asked to cross over to see an opposing view on a matter that you care deeply about?
We do not go alone - we go with Jesus, who came in the boat "just as he was." Just as He Is, he is with us.
I’m reminded of a quote which Edwin Friedman cites in his great book, A Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix: “The safest place for ships is in the harbor. But that’s not why ships were built.”
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-14-24 - Why Parables?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The parable of the mustard seed might be considered a parable of a parable. For parables are a lot like that seed – they appear small or simple (some of them) but contained in that little package is the fullness of God’s kingdom, waiting to be revealed.
Matthew, Mark and Luke include many parables among the teachings of Jesus. In fact, they insist that the parable was his primary form of teaching: With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.
Why might Jesus have chosen to tell stories about the ways of the Realm of God? Maybe because it makes absolutely no sense if you try to say it straight. The values of that realm are so distinct from our “natural” or “worldly” way of operating, that one formed by the world can only begin to grasp the difference if surprised by a story.
And people listen more fully to stories than they do to lectures. Just think of difference in how our bodies respond to “I’d like to teach you something,” and “Let me tell you a story.” The latter makes us relax and listen. Stories engage the imagination, the memory, the heart; they can put us into a receptive mode. Stories also allowed Jesus to set up what felt like familiar situations to his listeners – planting seeds, baking bread, tending vineyards, herding sheep, giving parties – and then have characters or events go off in unexpected, even shocking directions. This is a wonderful method for teaching – start with the familiar and lead into the new.
Jesus’ parables run the gamut from one-liners, to the paragraphs we read this week, to full-on dramas with multiple characters and scenes, such as the story of the prodigal son. Some are hard to interpret, like the story of the dishonest manager, and some strike many as unfair, like the one about the workers in the vineyard. They invite us to play, to explore, to wonder – what does it mean if this character represents one kind of people, and this character other kinds? Is God a character in this parable, and if so, who? Who stands in for you in the parable? Are you the sower, the seed, the bird?
If you haven’t played in the parables for awhile, you might make it a summer project to read your way through them (Luke has the most…). Stay with one until you feel you’ve mined its depths. Of course, we never truly get to the bottom of these little gems – they have a sneaky way of revealing new truths to us each time we encounter them afresh. Just like the Realm of God.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
The parable of the mustard seed might be considered a parable of a parable. For parables are a lot like that seed – they appear small or simple (some of them) but contained in that little package is the fullness of God’s kingdom, waiting to be revealed.
Matthew, Mark and Luke include many parables among the teachings of Jesus. In fact, they insist that the parable was his primary form of teaching: With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.
Why might Jesus have chosen to tell stories about the ways of the Realm of God? Maybe because it makes absolutely no sense if you try to say it straight. The values of that realm are so distinct from our “natural” or “worldly” way of operating, that one formed by the world can only begin to grasp the difference if surprised by a story.
And people listen more fully to stories than they do to lectures. Just think of difference in how our bodies respond to “I’d like to teach you something,” and “Let me tell you a story.” The latter makes us relax and listen. Stories engage the imagination, the memory, the heart; they can put us into a receptive mode. Stories also allowed Jesus to set up what felt like familiar situations to his listeners – planting seeds, baking bread, tending vineyards, herding sheep, giving parties – and then have characters or events go off in unexpected, even shocking directions. This is a wonderful method for teaching – start with the familiar and lead into the new.
Jesus’ parables run the gamut from one-liners, to the paragraphs we read this week, to full-on dramas with multiple characters and scenes, such as the story of the prodigal son. Some are hard to interpret, like the story of the dishonest manager, and some strike many as unfair, like the one about the workers in the vineyard. They invite us to play, to explore, to wonder – what does it mean if this character represents one kind of people, and this character other kinds? Is God a character in this parable, and if so, who? Who stands in for you in the parable? Are you the sower, the seed, the bird?
If you haven’t played in the parables for awhile, you might make it a summer project to read your way through them (Luke has the most…). Stay with one until you feel you’ve mined its depths. Of course, we never truly get to the bottom of these little gems – they have a sneaky way of revealing new truths to us each time we encounter them afresh. Just like the Realm of God.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-13-24 - Ugly Fruit
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Food waste has a colossal impact, not only on world hunger, with people starving while thousands of tons of edible food are thrown out daily, but also on our environment. The amount of fuel and water required to produce our food, 40 percent of which is thrown away in America, would make you weep.
One of the biggest areas of waste is produce – and a lot of that waste could be avoided if we would adjust our expectations of what fruits and vegetables have to look like to be considered “buyable,” and what hours of day and night we expect to find a full display in our local grocery store. In many places, efforts are underway to change those expectations, to push the virtues of “ugly fruit” and “inglorious vegetables” through clever ad campaigns and discounted pricing. (And lets not forget community fridges.)
And what does this have to do with mustard seeds, you ask? This week's parable is about things that look small or worthless having great value in the realm of God. The mustard seed in Jesus’ story may not have looked like much, but when planted it showed what it was made of – broken open in the dark earth, it yielded a magnificent plant that could provide shade and a place for birds to nest. That is the story of God's realm, a place where things are so much more than they appear to be.
“With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”
We have expectations of people too. We often prize the lovely, the strong, the healthy, the gifted. We assume these will be the best leaders. Sometimes we hold to that assumption even when we’re proved wrong – and thus overlook so much potential in those who may not appear to have as much to offer, but in fact are capable of much more than we can imagine, often because of the very qualities that cause us to regard them as lesser.
When have you been surprised to discover that someone you had assumed had little to offer actually made a tremendous contribution? One of my former parishioners had severe mental deficits – but oh, how eloquently she spoke of her faith. She built us up. When have you discovered that you could make a much bigger impact than you had thought possible, as you offered your gifts to God for ministry?
Let's go deeper: In what ways do you feel small or inadequate, like "ugly fruit?" How about we ask God to show us how to plant that very seed in the dark earth of God’s mysterious love, allow it to break open and grow into a life-giving gift to the world?
We all have ways in which we feel like “ugly fruit” or seeds too small for any use. And here comes Jesus to tell us that, in his Father’s kingdom, there is a purpose to every single life, two-headed carrots, bruised apples and all. We are all made for fruitfulness, and God will help us grow.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Food waste has a colossal impact, not only on world hunger, with people starving while thousands of tons of edible food are thrown out daily, but also on our environment. The amount of fuel and water required to produce our food, 40 percent of which is thrown away in America, would make you weep.
One of the biggest areas of waste is produce – and a lot of that waste could be avoided if we would adjust our expectations of what fruits and vegetables have to look like to be considered “buyable,” and what hours of day and night we expect to find a full display in our local grocery store. In many places, efforts are underway to change those expectations, to push the virtues of “ugly fruit” and “inglorious vegetables” through clever ad campaigns and discounted pricing. (And lets not forget community fridges.)
And what does this have to do with mustard seeds, you ask? This week's parable is about things that look small or worthless having great value in the realm of God. The mustard seed in Jesus’ story may not have looked like much, but when planted it showed what it was made of – broken open in the dark earth, it yielded a magnificent plant that could provide shade and a place for birds to nest. That is the story of God's realm, a place where things are so much more than they appear to be.
“With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”
We have expectations of people too. We often prize the lovely, the strong, the healthy, the gifted. We assume these will be the best leaders. Sometimes we hold to that assumption even when we’re proved wrong – and thus overlook so much potential in those who may not appear to have as much to offer, but in fact are capable of much more than we can imagine, often because of the very qualities that cause us to regard them as lesser.
When have you been surprised to discover that someone you had assumed had little to offer actually made a tremendous contribution? One of my former parishioners had severe mental deficits – but oh, how eloquently she spoke of her faith. She built us up. When have you discovered that you could make a much bigger impact than you had thought possible, as you offered your gifts to God for ministry?
Let's go deeper: In what ways do you feel small or inadequate, like "ugly fruit?" How about we ask God to show us how to plant that very seed in the dark earth of God’s mysterious love, allow it to break open and grow into a life-giving gift to the world?
We all have ways in which we feel like “ugly fruit” or seeds too small for any use. And here comes Jesus to tell us that, in his Father’s kingdom, there is a purpose to every single life, two-headed carrots, bruised apples and all. We are all made for fruitfulness, and God will help us grow.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-12-24 - The Power In Small
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I have two friends who started a school in a challenging inner-city neighborhood. They wove Christian principles into its operation, delighted in diversity, and had a huge commitment to helping the under-served, often under-privileged children of that city learn and thrive. They called it The Mustard Seed School, because they knew that things – and people – that look too small, too poor, too shabby to amount to much can achieve greatness. That is how things work in the realm of God.
Jesus also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”
This is one of many ways in which the values of God’s realm run counter to the values of our culture. We often think big is better, strong is mightier, talent prevails. There is nothing wrong with big, strong or talented, but those labels don’t tell the whole story about a person or a community – or a church. Some people are big because they come from large stock; some are gifted because they’ve been treated to a great education. These are not the values by which we are to measure one another, and certainly not the values by which we are to measure the effectiveness of our churches. But it takes a lot of prayer and reordering our values to truly look for the power and greatness in what appears small or weak.
When have you seen greatness in something that appeared small or less than desirable?
When has someone seen greatness in you at a time when you felt you had little to offer?
Where do you appreciate “small" and "unimpressive?”
There is a realm in which our culture has come to appreciate the small: technology. The smaller the item, the more we prize it – as long as it can pack a huge amount of data and deliver it at lightning speed. So maybe if Jesus were telling this parable today, it would sound like this:
“With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a processor chip, which, when implanted in a device, is the smallest of all the components; yet when it is activated, it becomes the most powerful of all operating systems, and powers many apps and puts forth many gigs of data, so that whole networks can benefit from its bandwidth.”
Does that work for you? If not, try this:
“With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a person of faith who seems pretty ordinary, who, when rooted into a community of other ordinary people, is the smallest contributor; yet when s/he is filled with the Holy Spirit, becomes the most powerful of all ministers and reaches out so lovingly, whole communities are blessed in ways they cannot number.”
Yeah. You and me. On our worst days. At our weakest. We provide shade and branches for whole communities. THAT’s how the kingdom of God works!
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
I have two friends who started a school in a challenging inner-city neighborhood. They wove Christian principles into its operation, delighted in diversity, and had a huge commitment to helping the under-served, often under-privileged children of that city learn and thrive. They called it The Mustard Seed School, because they knew that things – and people – that look too small, too poor, too shabby to amount to much can achieve greatness. That is how things work in the realm of God.
Jesus also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”
This is one of many ways in which the values of God’s realm run counter to the values of our culture. We often think big is better, strong is mightier, talent prevails. There is nothing wrong with big, strong or talented, but those labels don’t tell the whole story about a person or a community – or a church. Some people are big because they come from large stock; some are gifted because they’ve been treated to a great education. These are not the values by which we are to measure one another, and certainly not the values by which we are to measure the effectiveness of our churches. But it takes a lot of prayer and reordering our values to truly look for the power and greatness in what appears small or weak.
When have you seen greatness in something that appeared small or less than desirable?
When has someone seen greatness in you at a time when you felt you had little to offer?
Where do you appreciate “small" and "unimpressive?”
There is a realm in which our culture has come to appreciate the small: technology. The smaller the item, the more we prize it – as long as it can pack a huge amount of data and deliver it at lightning speed. So maybe if Jesus were telling this parable today, it would sound like this:
“With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a processor chip, which, when implanted in a device, is the smallest of all the components; yet when it is activated, it becomes the most powerful of all operating systems, and powers many apps and puts forth many gigs of data, so that whole networks can benefit from its bandwidth.”
Does that work for you? If not, try this:
“With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a person of faith who seems pretty ordinary, who, when rooted into a community of other ordinary people, is the smallest contributor; yet when s/he is filled with the Holy Spirit, becomes the most powerful of all ministers and reaches out so lovingly, whole communities are blessed in ways they cannot number.”
Yeah. You and me. On our worst days. At our weakest. We provide shade and branches for whole communities. THAT’s how the kingdom of God works!
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-11-24 - First the Stalk...
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The realm of God is all about growth; organic, even inevitable growth. That is what Jesus suggests in his short and cryptic parable about the scattered seed: “The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”
Some translations read, “First the blade, then the ear, then the full corn on the ear.” As soon as a stalk or blade begins popping out of the earth, we can be sure a head will develop on that stalk, and then the full grain will appear. It’s an image of hopefulness, encouragement to believe in the fullness of God’s plan when we see only the merest trace.
What did Jesus meant by the harvest, though? That sickle makes me nervous. But no cutting, no harvest. I believe Jesus is speaking about the full cycle of planting, growing and harvesting.
I will even venture an interpretation, hoping it doesn’t get in the way of your own: that Jesus is talking about evangelism. In the parable just before this, about the sower and the seeds, some seeds fell among rocks or thorns or in in shallow soil where the Word of God could not take root and flourish. Maybe Jesus is continuing that theme. The seed scatterers are Jesus’ disciples and he is encouraging them that some of the seeds they scatter will sprout, even when they can’t see how the process worked.
Sometimes we invite someone to join us at church and they are uninterested, or we talk about how important our faith has been to us in a crisis, and there is no response. Perhaps we retreat, concluding no one is interested in hearing about a life of love, joy and transformation in Jesus. We may need a different approach. "Church" is not a big draw - but ask people if they'd like to talk about Jesus... that might get a response. Or invite them into some form of service to people in need. We need to keep scattering seeds, for, unbeknownst to us, some of those seeds are breaking open and starting to grow below ground, even if we can’t see it until a blade or a stalk begins to appear.
This happened to a friend. She invited someone to church “sometime,” only to have that person show up that week, with family – who encountered people they knew whom they didn’t realize were part of that church. There’s a stalk for sure – and soon enough, if the soil is good, an ear will appear and then the full grain. Only then is it time for the harvest, the invitation to a fuller commitment to the Life of God. People who harvest grain know when it’s ready. There’s no question about it. When we’re waiting for an outcome in ministry, we can trust that God will make it clear to us, and to that person, when to go deeper.
This image of gradual visibility has also been used about healing prayer. Canon Jim Glennon frequently likened prayer for healing to planting a seed of faith and trusting in its growth, even before we see any sign of it. “First the blade, then the ear, then the full corn,” was his mantra, and he urged people to give thanks even before they saw how the prayer was being answered. That is praying by faith.
Are there seeds you desire to see sprout and grow? Have you seen the tip of a blade emerging yet? Wait, giving thanks by faith, until faith gives way to sight. That is the way of the seed scatterer in God’s garden. That is the way of the Christ follower growing in faith.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
The realm of God is all about growth; organic, even inevitable growth. That is what Jesus suggests in his short and cryptic parable about the scattered seed: “The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”
Some translations read, “First the blade, then the ear, then the full corn on the ear.” As soon as a stalk or blade begins popping out of the earth, we can be sure a head will develop on that stalk, and then the full grain will appear. It’s an image of hopefulness, encouragement to believe in the fullness of God’s plan when we see only the merest trace.
What did Jesus meant by the harvest, though? That sickle makes me nervous. But no cutting, no harvest. I believe Jesus is speaking about the full cycle of planting, growing and harvesting.
I will even venture an interpretation, hoping it doesn’t get in the way of your own: that Jesus is talking about evangelism. In the parable just before this, about the sower and the seeds, some seeds fell among rocks or thorns or in in shallow soil where the Word of God could not take root and flourish. Maybe Jesus is continuing that theme. The seed scatterers are Jesus’ disciples and he is encouraging them that some of the seeds they scatter will sprout, even when they can’t see how the process worked.
Sometimes we invite someone to join us at church and they are uninterested, or we talk about how important our faith has been to us in a crisis, and there is no response. Perhaps we retreat, concluding no one is interested in hearing about a life of love, joy and transformation in Jesus. We may need a different approach. "Church" is not a big draw - but ask people if they'd like to talk about Jesus... that might get a response. Or invite them into some form of service to people in need. We need to keep scattering seeds, for, unbeknownst to us, some of those seeds are breaking open and starting to grow below ground, even if we can’t see it until a blade or a stalk begins to appear.
This happened to a friend. She invited someone to church “sometime,” only to have that person show up that week, with family – who encountered people they knew whom they didn’t realize were part of that church. There’s a stalk for sure – and soon enough, if the soil is good, an ear will appear and then the full grain. Only then is it time for the harvest, the invitation to a fuller commitment to the Life of God. People who harvest grain know when it’s ready. There’s no question about it. When we’re waiting for an outcome in ministry, we can trust that God will make it clear to us, and to that person, when to go deeper.
This image of gradual visibility has also been used about healing prayer. Canon Jim Glennon frequently likened prayer for healing to planting a seed of faith and trusting in its growth, even before we see any sign of it. “First the blade, then the ear, then the full corn,” was his mantra, and he urged people to give thanks even before they saw how the prayer was being answered. That is praying by faith.
Are there seeds you desire to see sprout and grow? Have you seen the tip of a blade emerging yet? Wait, giving thanks by faith, until faith gives way to sight. That is the way of the seed scatterer in God’s garden. That is the way of the Christ follower growing in faith.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-10-24 - Scattering Seeds
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
A person tosses a bunch of seeds on the ground, goes to sleep and wakes up for many days in a row, and then is surprised to see plants sprouting all around. This is a description of:
What does the story suggest to you?
It is Seed Week in Bible Camp. I’ve never counted, but it seems that Jesus told more parables about seeds than any other one thing. In the passage just before this, he tells a long story about a sower of seeds and the different results he gets according to where they fall. In this week’s gospel reading we get two more seed parables, short, simple, and – if we harvest them well – yielding manifold meanings and gifts. Here is the first:
A person tosses a bunch of seeds on the ground, goes to sleep and wakes up for many days in a row, and then is surprised to see plants sprouting all around. This is a description of:
- Organic farming methods
- A lifelong city dweller’s first experience in the countryside
- Me with my vegetable garden (see b…)
- The way things work in the Realm of God
What does the story suggest to you?
It is Seed Week in Bible Camp. I’ve never counted, but it seems that Jesus told more parables about seeds than any other one thing. In the passage just before this, he tells a long story about a sower of seeds and the different results he gets according to where they fall. In this week’s gospel reading we get two more seed parables, short, simple, and – if we harvest them well – yielding manifold meanings and gifts. Here is the first:
“The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”
We meet no sower, just “someone” who haphazardly scatters seed on the ground and then seems astonished that it sprouts and grows. How is this like the Kingdom of God? Is Jesus saying that God is the careless scatterer, hoping that the kingdom values of love and faithfulness and power will take root in some? There appears to be no cultivating, weeding, tending, or watering – just “the earth producing of itself.” Does this suggest that some people are just naturally ready to grow and thrive?
Or are we the ones unwittingly scattering the seeds of the gospel, and surprised when some sprout?
Or am I wrong to equate the seeds with people? Maybe the seeds are simply the movement of “getting it,” grasping the truth that Jesus was trying to communicate about the way the Realm of God is already around, among, even in us. The truth grows in us – we don’t have to study and prepare, simply recognize and accept and live it.
Or perhaps we should focus on the sprouting plants rather than the carelessness or cluelessness of the sower. The realm of God is constantly sprouting new life, grown from seeds we scarcely knew had been sown – and day after day, night after night, this growth continues apart from any effort we make.
What do you see when you play with this one? This is what we do with parables – turn them this way and that, try on different angles and interpretations, see what strikes a spark in us. Come to think of it, parables are kind of like scattered seeds that sprout and grow, we know not how...
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
We meet no sower, just “someone” who haphazardly scatters seed on the ground and then seems astonished that it sprouts and grows. How is this like the Kingdom of God? Is Jesus saying that God is the careless scatterer, hoping that the kingdom values of love and faithfulness and power will take root in some? There appears to be no cultivating, weeding, tending, or watering – just “the earth producing of itself.” Does this suggest that some people are just naturally ready to grow and thrive?
Or are we the ones unwittingly scattering the seeds of the gospel, and surprised when some sprout?
Or am I wrong to equate the seeds with people? Maybe the seeds are simply the movement of “getting it,” grasping the truth that Jesus was trying to communicate about the way the Realm of God is already around, among, even in us. The truth grows in us – we don’t have to study and prepare, simply recognize and accept and live it.
Or perhaps we should focus on the sprouting plants rather than the carelessness or cluelessness of the sower. The realm of God is constantly sprouting new life, grown from seeds we scarcely knew had been sown – and day after day, night after night, this growth continues apart from any effort we make.
What do you see when you play with this one? This is what we do with parables – turn them this way and that, try on different angles and interpretations, see what strikes a spark in us. Come to think of it, parables are kind of like scattered seeds that sprout and grow, we know not how...
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-7-24 - God's Will
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Welcome to the family! You’re in. Jesus says so. But on what basis were you accepted? Were you born into it? Millions have been over 2,000 some years. Born and baptized, you belong.
Or did you get in on faith? That’s supposed to be a sure-fire way, believing in Jesus the Christ, incarnate, crucified, risen. Don’t need any documents from Column B – you believe, you’re in.
And what about behavior? Some of us “solo gratia” types aren’t so keen on the idea that folks can “do-good” their way into the Kingdom. But Jesus did say something about doing the will of God: And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”
We can’t take behaving out of the picture, any more than we can take out believing, birth or baptism. The Realm of God is a “both/and” enterprise. It can be useful, though, to explore what it means to do the will of God. If it were easier to discern God’s will, we wouldn’t worry, wonder or wander as much.
One way to discern God’s will is to ask if we’re doing something Jesus told his apostles to do: proclaim the Good News, heal the sick, raise the dead, cast out demons. Oh, and feed the hungry, visit the incarcerated, love the unloved, forgive those who have wounded or taken from us. All that.
And what about things that don’t fall easily into "apostolic" categories? What about choices facing us for which we want to know what God wants? A few measures can guide us:
Are you in discernment about anything in your life at present? What happens when you pray about it? We don't always get a “straight answer” to those kinds of prayers, but if we keep our eyes and spirits open, we might find clues in “coincidences,” or things we observe or song lyrics, you name it. God has our number, if we keep our lines open.
Ultimately, Jesus said, his Father’s will was that “everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life...” (John 6:40). If we can live in that understanding, we will swim in God's will all the way to eternity.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Welcome to the family! You’re in. Jesus says so. But on what basis were you accepted? Were you born into it? Millions have been over 2,000 some years. Born and baptized, you belong.
Or did you get in on faith? That’s supposed to be a sure-fire way, believing in Jesus the Christ, incarnate, crucified, risen. Don’t need any documents from Column B – you believe, you’re in.
And what about behavior? Some of us “solo gratia” types aren’t so keen on the idea that folks can “do-good” their way into the Kingdom. But Jesus did say something about doing the will of God: And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”
We can’t take behaving out of the picture, any more than we can take out believing, birth or baptism. The Realm of God is a “both/and” enterprise. It can be useful, though, to explore what it means to do the will of God. If it were easier to discern God’s will, we wouldn’t worry, wonder or wander as much.
One way to discern God’s will is to ask if we’re doing something Jesus told his apostles to do: proclaim the Good News, heal the sick, raise the dead, cast out demons. Oh, and feed the hungry, visit the incarcerated, love the unloved, forgive those who have wounded or taken from us. All that.
And what about things that don’t fall easily into "apostolic" categories? What about choices facing us for which we want to know what God wants? A few measures can guide us:
- Is what we’re contemplating consistent with what we find in the Bible, or at least not contrary to what Jesus or the apostles taught?
- Is there confirmation within our community of faith, even by one other person, for the course we’re taking?
- The “gut check.” Do we have an inner sense of peace about it? If not, we should keep praying and exploring.
Are you in discernment about anything in your life at present? What happens when you pray about it? We don't always get a “straight answer” to those kinds of prayers, but if we keep our eyes and spirits open, we might find clues in “coincidences,” or things we observe or song lyrics, you name it. God has our number, if we keep our lines open.
Ultimately, Jesus said, his Father’s will was that “everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life...” (John 6:40). If we can live in that understanding, we will swim in God's will all the way to eternity.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-6-24 - Is There An Unforgivable Sin?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
There are enough of things to worry about in this life; you probably aren’t losing sleep over whether or not you’ve committed the Unforgivable Sin. But it might bother the scripture-savvy neurotic overly given to scrupulosity, the nagging worry that I have blasphemed against the Holy Spirit. (I’ve been known to tell Jesus jokes… )
Reading the passage afresh, I think I can relax. It appears that the ultimate “diss” on the Holy Spirit was accusing Jesus of having an evil spirit. “Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”— for they had said, “He has an unclean spirit.”
To avoid the eternal sin, we need only refrain from naming as unholy the Spirit of God. And so we must be able to discern the Holy Spirit from evil spirits – and that’s not so hard to do. Jesus said one can identify a false prophet by his fruit (Matthew 7:15-20). John said to test those who claim to speak by the Spirit – and the test is whether or not they affirm that Jesus was fully human. (I John 4:1-3) We can also look for evidence of the Spirit in a person by what fruit they bear – are their words and work generally life-giving and God-oriented? Do we see around them the good fruit of transformed lives?
If we focus our energy on all the places and people in which we do see the Holy Spirit at work, we won’t have time to worry about unclean spirits. Getting us to look at negatives and what’s lacking is one of the evil one’s strategies. For instance, instead of worrying about whether or not we’ve committed the one unforgivable sin, how about we notice the much more startling announcement Jesus makes here: “…people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter.” Wow! Talk about grace and mercy covering a multitude of sins!
We have talked a lot this week about evil and the devil – those are big themes in this passage. But it’s worth remembering that the way the Tempter works is to distort the prohibitions and the penalties, and downplay the promises. In the Garden story (also appointed for Sunday), the man and woman are told they can eat the fruit of every tree except one. And that’s the one the tempter focuses their attention on – that one prohibition. That is still his strategy, because it works so often.
How about we stop falling for it? How about we stand so firm in our belovedness in Christ, in the amazing mercy covering our petty sins and blasphemies, that we cannot be shaken off course by distortions and lies intended to undermine us? How about we invite the Holy Spirit to be so full and thick in us that we’re much more apt to praise God than to condemn ourselves or others? The clock is running out on the power of evil – God’s love has us covered. That is our Good News.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
There are enough of things to worry about in this life; you probably aren’t losing sleep over whether or not you’ve committed the Unforgivable Sin. But it might bother the scripture-savvy neurotic overly given to scrupulosity, the nagging worry that I have blasphemed against the Holy Spirit. (I’ve been known to tell Jesus jokes… )
Reading the passage afresh, I think I can relax. It appears that the ultimate “diss” on the Holy Spirit was accusing Jesus of having an evil spirit. “Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”— for they had said, “He has an unclean spirit.”
To avoid the eternal sin, we need only refrain from naming as unholy the Spirit of God. And so we must be able to discern the Holy Spirit from evil spirits – and that’s not so hard to do. Jesus said one can identify a false prophet by his fruit (Matthew 7:15-20). John said to test those who claim to speak by the Spirit – and the test is whether or not they affirm that Jesus was fully human. (I John 4:1-3) We can also look for evidence of the Spirit in a person by what fruit they bear – are their words and work generally life-giving and God-oriented? Do we see around them the good fruit of transformed lives?
If we focus our energy on all the places and people in which we do see the Holy Spirit at work, we won’t have time to worry about unclean spirits. Getting us to look at negatives and what’s lacking is one of the evil one’s strategies. For instance, instead of worrying about whether or not we’ve committed the one unforgivable sin, how about we notice the much more startling announcement Jesus makes here: “…people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter.” Wow! Talk about grace and mercy covering a multitude of sins!
We have talked a lot this week about evil and the devil – those are big themes in this passage. But it’s worth remembering that the way the Tempter works is to distort the prohibitions and the penalties, and downplay the promises. In the Garden story (also appointed for Sunday), the man and woman are told they can eat the fruit of every tree except one. And that’s the one the tempter focuses their attention on – that one prohibition. That is still his strategy, because it works so often.
How about we stop falling for it? How about we stand so firm in our belovedness in Christ, in the amazing mercy covering our petty sins and blasphemies, that we cannot be shaken off course by distortions and lies intended to undermine us? How about we invite the Holy Spirit to be so full and thick in us that we’re much more apt to praise God than to condemn ourselves or others? The clock is running out on the power of evil – God’s love has us covered. That is our Good News.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-5-24 - Breaking and Entering
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Tips on breaking and entering from Jesus of Nazareth? Not quite – but he does have a few thoughts on the most effective way to break into someone’s house:
“…no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered.”
Remember, he is disputing a charge that the power by which he casts out demons is itself demonic. He says that’s ridiculous – that a house divided cannot stand. In fact, he says, “And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come.”
II’m confused. Wasn’t the point of Jesus’ mission to put an end to Satan’s power? I don’t think Jesus is saying that has already happened; he is predicting his course, asserting that Satan is not divided – Satan is single-mindedly focused on evil and gets stronger with each victory. Therefore Jesus will “tie up the strong man.” And that is what Christians claim Jesus accomplished – a definitive conquest over the forces of evil.
So… why doesn’t it seem like Satan is bound at all? Why does it seem like the Enemy of Human Nature still has free run of the place, tempting, corrupting, degrading, destroying life?
That’s probably the hardest question asked of Christians. Don’t all our claims of Easter Life crash against the reality of evil still running amok in our world? Traditional apologists have likened Christ’s victory to D-Day, and the time we live in to the period between D-Day, when Axis forces were defeated, and V.E. Day, when all the battles had ended and peace was declared. That analogy has some legs.
There is also the matter of free will. Yes, Jesus vanquished the destroyer – and each and every person still must choose and exercise free will. No one has it decided for her. The difference for us on this side of the Cross is that the choice is simpler. When we are faced with temptation to be less than who God made us to be, or when we fear evil is stronger than God, we need only remember that Jesus HAS tied up the strong man.
A person single-mindedly focused on his mission will always have more power than one who is ambivalent or unsure or wavering. Evil, personified in the name Satan, has power because he is wholly committed to destruction, to drawing people away from God. When we are equally clear about our commitment to God in Christ, to good, to love, those chains Jesus already put on him get tighter and tighter. We can not only resist evil ourselves; we can also free those whom evil has bound. That’s the work of justice and peacemaking.
We don’t have to fight or bind the evil one – that’s done. We need only stand firm on what Jesus has already done and tell evil to get lost. We can do that in personal crises – just say, “Oh yeah, Jesus already won this battle. Come, Lord Jesus…” And what might change in the horrors that afflict our world if we were to face those crises the same way, if we were to come together in faith, pray, "Come, Lord Jesus," and focus single-mindedly on Love? That’s plundering the strong man’s house. Evil wouldn't stand a chance.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Tips on breaking and entering from Jesus of Nazareth? Not quite – but he does have a few thoughts on the most effective way to break into someone’s house:
“…no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered.”
Remember, he is disputing a charge that the power by which he casts out demons is itself demonic. He says that’s ridiculous – that a house divided cannot stand. In fact, he says, “And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come.”
II’m confused. Wasn’t the point of Jesus’ mission to put an end to Satan’s power? I don’t think Jesus is saying that has already happened; he is predicting his course, asserting that Satan is not divided – Satan is single-mindedly focused on evil and gets stronger with each victory. Therefore Jesus will “tie up the strong man.” And that is what Christians claim Jesus accomplished – a definitive conquest over the forces of evil.
So… why doesn’t it seem like Satan is bound at all? Why does it seem like the Enemy of Human Nature still has free run of the place, tempting, corrupting, degrading, destroying life?
That’s probably the hardest question asked of Christians. Don’t all our claims of Easter Life crash against the reality of evil still running amok in our world? Traditional apologists have likened Christ’s victory to D-Day, and the time we live in to the period between D-Day, when Axis forces were defeated, and V.E. Day, when all the battles had ended and peace was declared. That analogy has some legs.
There is also the matter of free will. Yes, Jesus vanquished the destroyer – and each and every person still must choose and exercise free will. No one has it decided for her. The difference for us on this side of the Cross is that the choice is simpler. When we are faced with temptation to be less than who God made us to be, or when we fear evil is stronger than God, we need only remember that Jesus HAS tied up the strong man.
A person single-mindedly focused on his mission will always have more power than one who is ambivalent or unsure or wavering. Evil, personified in the name Satan, has power because he is wholly committed to destruction, to drawing people away from God. When we are equally clear about our commitment to God in Christ, to good, to love, those chains Jesus already put on him get tighter and tighter. We can not only resist evil ourselves; we can also free those whom evil has bound. That’s the work of justice and peacemaking.
We don’t have to fight or bind the evil one – that’s done. We need only stand firm on what Jesus has already done and tell evil to get lost. We can do that in personal crises – just say, “Oh yeah, Jesus already won this battle. Come, Lord Jesus…” And what might change in the horrors that afflict our world if we were to face those crises the same way, if we were to come together in faith, pray, "Come, Lord Jesus," and focus single-mindedly on Love? That’s plundering the strong man’s house. Evil wouldn't stand a chance.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-4-24 - Fighting Evil With Evil?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As Jesus' public ministry was getting underway, he got flack from many quarters. His family tried to shut him up, and next we see the scribes speak out against him: And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.”
The scribes' job was to painstakingly copy out Torah scrolls and perform other clerical duties in the Temple. This group had come from Jerusalem to investigate or condemn Jesus – at the point we hear from them, they are clearly condemning. Unable to deny the spiritual power so evident in Jesus’ miracles, they are nevertheless unwilling to credit it to the presence of God. They assert that it is by demonic power that Jesus casts out demons.
As usual, Jesus makes no defense for himself. Instead, he points out the logical fallacy in their theory. “How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand.” That makes sense – we can’t draw on the power of evil to rid us of evil.
So much horror and heartbreak in the world arises from just that: wielding the arsenal of evil to stamp out some oppression or corruption or injustice that benefits some people at the expense of others. What is terrorism but the attempt to counter evil with evil, destruction with destruction? What are violent revolutions and “Robin Hood” schemes but combating evil with evil? The French Revolution, meant to liberate people, quickly gave way to the Terror.
Are there times when even people rooted in godliness use violence as a weapon against evil? Of course. I think immediately of the German pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, executed by the Nazis for his part in a failed plot to assassinate Adolf Hitler. Did this profoundly holy and faithful Christian leader fall into that trap – or is some evil so horrific it can only be met with violence?
One online piece about Bonhoeffer said, "Some of his later writings insist that many Christians do not take seriously enough the existence and power of evil." I imagine he made that choice to fight evil. He was forced to choose between two evils, really – letting the madman continue, or taking action to stop him. He made a choice, rooted in prayer and community, to take one life in hopes of saving millions. Many have done the same.
In the gospels, we never see Jesus do so. He is often liberal with sarcasm, but never with violence. His mission was to disable the devil, to “bind the strong man,” as he puts it. As Christians we claim he accomplished that – and yet, to live into that promise takes a very long view indeed, as we still see the power of evil wreaking horrendous destruction.
What are we to do in the face of evil forces? We are invited to deploy the arsenal of God – the power in the name of Jesus, the fierce advocacy of the Holy Spirit, the defensive weapons of the Spirit promised to us (Ephesians 6). And we have the power in prayer, the power that made galaxies ready to mobilize when we pray in faith, in the name and power and love of our Lord Jesus Christ. That's the promise! Let’s be persistent in prayer for God to disable the evil being committed by so many “strong men” in our world today.
I sure would like to see heaven and earth move more quickly and clearly against certain evils and evildoers who persist in cruel destruction around this world of ours. And yet I believe, sometimes against evidence, that the only force powerful enough to cast out evil is the love of God, wielded in prayer. As Martin Luther King, Jr. famously said, “Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
As Jesus' public ministry was getting underway, he got flack from many quarters. His family tried to shut him up, and next we see the scribes speak out against him: And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.”
The scribes' job was to painstakingly copy out Torah scrolls and perform other clerical duties in the Temple. This group had come from Jerusalem to investigate or condemn Jesus – at the point we hear from them, they are clearly condemning. Unable to deny the spiritual power so evident in Jesus’ miracles, they are nevertheless unwilling to credit it to the presence of God. They assert that it is by demonic power that Jesus casts out demons.
As usual, Jesus makes no defense for himself. Instead, he points out the logical fallacy in their theory. “How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand.” That makes sense – we can’t draw on the power of evil to rid us of evil.
So much horror and heartbreak in the world arises from just that: wielding the arsenal of evil to stamp out some oppression or corruption or injustice that benefits some people at the expense of others. What is terrorism but the attempt to counter evil with evil, destruction with destruction? What are violent revolutions and “Robin Hood” schemes but combating evil with evil? The French Revolution, meant to liberate people, quickly gave way to the Terror.
Are there times when even people rooted in godliness use violence as a weapon against evil? Of course. I think immediately of the German pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, executed by the Nazis for his part in a failed plot to assassinate Adolf Hitler. Did this profoundly holy and faithful Christian leader fall into that trap – or is some evil so horrific it can only be met with violence?
One online piece about Bonhoeffer said, "Some of his later writings insist that many Christians do not take seriously enough the existence and power of evil." I imagine he made that choice to fight evil. He was forced to choose between two evils, really – letting the madman continue, or taking action to stop him. He made a choice, rooted in prayer and community, to take one life in hopes of saving millions. Many have done the same.
In the gospels, we never see Jesus do so. He is often liberal with sarcasm, but never with violence. His mission was to disable the devil, to “bind the strong man,” as he puts it. As Christians we claim he accomplished that – and yet, to live into that promise takes a very long view indeed, as we still see the power of evil wreaking horrendous destruction.
What are we to do in the face of evil forces? We are invited to deploy the arsenal of God – the power in the name of Jesus, the fierce advocacy of the Holy Spirit, the defensive weapons of the Spirit promised to us (Ephesians 6). And we have the power in prayer, the power that made galaxies ready to mobilize when we pray in faith, in the name and power and love of our Lord Jesus Christ. That's the promise! Let’s be persistent in prayer for God to disable the evil being committed by so many “strong men” in our world today.
I sure would like to see heaven and earth move more quickly and clearly against certain evils and evildoers who persist in cruel destruction around this world of ours. And yet I believe, sometimes against evidence, that the only force powerful enough to cast out evil is the love of God, wielded in prayer. As Martin Luther King, Jr. famously said, “Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
6-3-24 - Mom! Make Him Stop!
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This week we get a little glimpse into Jesus’ earthly family. Just a glimpse, but enough to suggest they were a lot like other people’s families: protective of their reputation, swift to pounce when someone steps out of the norm. And might we detect a little sibling resentment against the big brother who can, literally, do no wrong?
This passage from Mark’s gospel shows Jesus right after he’s begun his public ministry of preaching, healing, casting out demons. Just prior to this, he selects his twelve closest disciples and then, Mark tells us, “He went home.” Home, presumably, was no longer the woodshop in Nazareth where he grew up, but Capernaum, the town where Peter and Andrew lived, where Jesus resided when not on the road.
But sometimes “home” doesn’t get shaken so easily. When Jesus’ family hears about the crowds that form around him everywhere he goes, they think it’s time to do something. [Then he went home;] and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.”
Imagine a parent who goes out to reclaim a son or daughter who’s gotten involved in a cult – and discovers their offspring is the cult leader! It must not have been easy for Jesus’ family to see his activities, the wild things he was saying, the miracles he was working, the lowlifes he was hanging out with, the way he stood up to the religious leaders. It sure looked to them like “he has gone out of his mind.” Perhaps they were so used to seeing him one way, they couldn’t conceive of who he had become.
Whatever their motives, their efforts to quiet him didn't work. In response to being told his mother and brothers wanted to talk to him, Jesus redefined his family. His words may sound harsh to our sentimental ears, but he was just being clear about priorities for those who claim to be his followers: Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers are outside, asking for you.” And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”
How do those words make you feel? Where in your hierarchy of values is your family? Do they support you getting closer to Jesus, or are they threatened by it?
Are you willing to let people know you are part of Jesus' family, not just a follower, but a brother or sister? Because he said we, whoever does the will of God, are now his mother, his brothers, his sisters. For Christ-followers, family is no longer defined by blood. The community of faith comes first. That’s what "family values" are meant to be for us.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
This week we get a little glimpse into Jesus’ earthly family. Just a glimpse, but enough to suggest they were a lot like other people’s families: protective of their reputation, swift to pounce when someone steps out of the norm. And might we detect a little sibling resentment against the big brother who can, literally, do no wrong?
This passage from Mark’s gospel shows Jesus right after he’s begun his public ministry of preaching, healing, casting out demons. Just prior to this, he selects his twelve closest disciples and then, Mark tells us, “He went home.” Home, presumably, was no longer the woodshop in Nazareth where he grew up, but Capernaum, the town where Peter and Andrew lived, where Jesus resided when not on the road.
But sometimes “home” doesn’t get shaken so easily. When Jesus’ family hears about the crowds that form around him everywhere he goes, they think it’s time to do something. [Then he went home;] and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.”
Imagine a parent who goes out to reclaim a son or daughter who’s gotten involved in a cult – and discovers their offspring is the cult leader! It must not have been easy for Jesus’ family to see his activities, the wild things he was saying, the miracles he was working, the lowlifes he was hanging out with, the way he stood up to the religious leaders. It sure looked to them like “he has gone out of his mind.” Perhaps they were so used to seeing him one way, they couldn’t conceive of who he had become.
Whatever their motives, their efforts to quiet him didn't work. In response to being told his mother and brothers wanted to talk to him, Jesus redefined his family. His words may sound harsh to our sentimental ears, but he was just being clear about priorities for those who claim to be his followers: Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers are outside, asking for you.” And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”
How do those words make you feel? Where in your hierarchy of values is your family? Do they support you getting closer to Jesus, or are they threatened by it?
Are you willing to let people know you are part of Jesus' family, not just a follower, but a brother or sister? Because he said we, whoever does the will of God, are now his mother, his brothers, his sisters. For Christ-followers, family is no longer defined by blood. The community of faith comes first. That’s what "family values" are meant to be for us.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
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