You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When Jesus is asked whether or not divorce is permissible for the faithful, he goes to the Scriptures, quoting Genesis: “But from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female. For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two but one flesh."
Sounds simple enough. It’s the ideal of what marriage is. Much more than a change of life status and condition, marriage in the Judeo-Christian view is the creation of a new person, if you will, an entity crafted from the union of the two partners entering into this covenant. It’s a beautiful ideal, and maddeningly difficult to live into, especially in a culture that understands marriage as the consummation of romantic love. And to the question of whether only two people with different genders can become “one flesh,” the bible is silent, as it is on abortion, medical ethics, labor laws, and so many other issues that vex us today.
What Jesus is not silent on is the sanctity of the union once made. He answers the Pharisees in a fairly general way – “…Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” But Mark tells us that in private he has a different answer for his disciples: Then in the house the disciples asked him again about this matter. He said to them, “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.”
Harsh words. I wonder why Jesus didn’t define it so starkly in public – did he know it might drive people away, as it once did a parishioner when this passage was read in church? And why does this statement allow no room for situations like abuse, infidelity or neglect that might warrant dissolving a marriage? And what do we make of our times, in which so many marriages suffer estrangement, unfaithfulness and often break down completely?
In the Episcopal wedding liturgy, the congregation is asked, after the two parties have declared their intent, whether they will do all in their power to uphold these two persons in their marriage. This is where we have a chance to enhance the “holy” in matrimony. Whether or not we are present when a couple made their vows, we can pray for them, talk with them, tangibly support their ongoing emotional and spiritual connection. And we can counter the cultural messages about marriage with the Christian narrative – that God has made a new creation out of two distinct persons in order that they reveal Love in the world. That new creation is fragile and vulnerable – it needs nurturing and protecting.
It is not up to each couple to save their marriage – it is up to their community to support and to love them, even when they fail to stay together. If we want to see marriage upheld as holy, let’s pray and support the couples we know, for the holy comes from God, through God's people.
© 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.
9-30-24 - Culture Wars
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
We land smack dab in the middle of it this week: marriage and children. Jesus weighs in, not on marriage equality, which was not an issue in his day, but on divorce, a topic on which many “family values” warriors are silent, perhaps because divorce is so prevalent in our times, even among Christian evangelicals.
Why is he commenting on this topic at all? Some Pharisees came, and to test him they asked, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” He answered them, “What did Moses command you?” They said, “Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her.” But Jesus said to them, “Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment for you.”
Jesus did not bring this subject up on his own. His focus was always on how we might better understand God’s love and activity in our world, and how we are to treat the poor, the infirm, the elderly, the young, the stranger, and those with whom we have conflict. Jesus seemed little interested in laying down the law on marriage or any of the topics that claim so much time and energy in American Christianity.
But here come the Pharisees, trying to bait him again, this time on whether or not divorce is permissible. Jesus is, as always, cagey in his response. Rather than answer the question he points them back to the Law of Moses, “What did Moses command you?” They answer that the Law allows a man to divorce his wife. And Jesus replies that this “out” is provided to allow for “hardness of heart,” not because it is godly. (More tomorrow on what else he says …)
My question is: what does this have to do with the Good News? What does this have to do with “the kingdom of God has come among you,” “The Word became flesh and dwelt among you full of grace and truth?” It was then, and is now, a distraction from the fullness of Jesus’ message. Yes, how we live, and the honor with which we do and do not regard the people in our lives is definitely connected to that Good News of wholeness restored. Yet human behavior is not where we are to focus. When we do, we stop looking at Jesus and proclaiming him as Lord.
I try hard not to get too drawn into “culture war” debates. They so massively distort what the Christian enterprise is and is meant to be. They obscure the power of love and healing with which the Church has been entrusted, and trumpet legalism instead of love, law to the detriment of grace. All God’s revelation is important, but when the debate about these matters drowns out the Great Commandment to love God with heart, soul and mind – and your neighbor as yourself – we have a problem. Morality without love is self-righteousness.
One of the religious organizations I follow has as its tagline: “Love your neighbor. No exceptions.” When somebody asks what you think about marriage, sexuality, or any other social issue of the day, you might just “pull a Jesus” and ask in return: “How can we best love our neighbor on this question?” I guarantee it’ll change the quality of the conversation and invite Jesus smack dab into the middle of 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.
We land smack dab in the middle of it this week: marriage and children. Jesus weighs in, not on marriage equality, which was not an issue in his day, but on divorce, a topic on which many “family values” warriors are silent, perhaps because divorce is so prevalent in our times, even among Christian evangelicals.
Why is he commenting on this topic at all? Some Pharisees came, and to test him they asked, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” He answered them, “What did Moses command you?” They said, “Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her.” But Jesus said to them, “Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment for you.”
Jesus did not bring this subject up on his own. His focus was always on how we might better understand God’s love and activity in our world, and how we are to treat the poor, the infirm, the elderly, the young, the stranger, and those with whom we have conflict. Jesus seemed little interested in laying down the law on marriage or any of the topics that claim so much time and energy in American Christianity.
But here come the Pharisees, trying to bait him again, this time on whether or not divorce is permissible. Jesus is, as always, cagey in his response. Rather than answer the question he points them back to the Law of Moses, “What did Moses command you?” They answer that the Law allows a man to divorce his wife. And Jesus replies that this “out” is provided to allow for “hardness of heart,” not because it is godly. (More tomorrow on what else he says …)
My question is: what does this have to do with the Good News? What does this have to do with “the kingdom of God has come among you,” “The Word became flesh and dwelt among you full of grace and truth?” It was then, and is now, a distraction from the fullness of Jesus’ message. Yes, how we live, and the honor with which we do and do not regard the people in our lives is definitely connected to that Good News of wholeness restored. Yet human behavior is not where we are to focus. When we do, we stop looking at Jesus and proclaiming him as Lord.
I try hard not to get too drawn into “culture war” debates. They so massively distort what the Christian enterprise is and is meant to be. They obscure the power of love and healing with which the Church has been entrusted, and trumpet legalism instead of love, law to the detriment of grace. All God’s revelation is important, but when the debate about these matters drowns out the Great Commandment to love God with heart, soul and mind – and your neighbor as yourself – we have a problem. Morality without love is self-righteousness.
One of the religious organizations I follow has as its tagline: “Love your neighbor. No exceptions.” When somebody asks what you think about marriage, sexuality, or any other social issue of the day, you might just “pull a Jesus” and ask in return: “How can we best love our neighbor on this question?” I guarantee it’ll change the quality of the conversation and invite Jesus smack dab into the middle of 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.
9-27-24 - Pass the Salt
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I don’t have a clue what Jesus meant by this: “For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it?
Since he’s just talked about the fires of hell as a consequence of sin, I’m guessing that has something to do with it. Is he saying that each of us has a taste of sin’s consequences, both the immediate personal outcomes, and the separation from God that results? Jesus has freed us from that last, more eternal consequence, but sometimes we feel the heat of those fires. Is that what it means to be salted with fire?
And what does that have to do with the qualities of salt? How do we maintain the saltiness of salt? (And how do we read this metaphor in an age and culture all too aware of the dangers of consuming salt…)
It is all too inscrutable to me. So I will focus on the last sentence, which is something we can connect with: “Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.” More than once Jesus commends “saltiness” in his followers and warns of the dangers of salt that has lost its flavor. Might we link "salt" with the power of the Holy Spirit at work in followers of Christ? Trying to live as a Christian without the active participation of the Spirit can make us dull and flavor-less, adding little to the world around us beyond vague talk of love and ordered worship in pretty buildings. Is Jesus condemning the Spirit-less religiosity he so often saw in the religious leaders of his time?
What does it mean to have salt in ourselves? It means, in part, that we feel the flow of God-Life in us; we know we’re part of an enterprise bigger than ourselves. It means we confront discouragement with prayer, and defeat with hope, sorrow with a joy borne not of circumstances, but of faith.
When do you feel the most “salty,” alive, full of flavor as a Christian? Is it in works of service or giving? In worship or prayer? When you’re reading the bible? Organizing ministries for others to live into? Talking about God’s involvement in your life? Pay attention to where you most come alive – chances are that’s where you have salt within yourself. And when we have salt within ourselves, it’s not so hard to be at peace with one another.
© 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 don’t have a clue what Jesus meant by this: “For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it?
Since he’s just talked about the fires of hell as a consequence of sin, I’m guessing that has something to do with it. Is he saying that each of us has a taste of sin’s consequences, both the immediate personal outcomes, and the separation from God that results? Jesus has freed us from that last, more eternal consequence, but sometimes we feel the heat of those fires. Is that what it means to be salted with fire?
And what does that have to do with the qualities of salt? How do we maintain the saltiness of salt? (And how do we read this metaphor in an age and culture all too aware of the dangers of consuming salt…)
It is all too inscrutable to me. So I will focus on the last sentence, which is something we can connect with: “Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.” More than once Jesus commends “saltiness” in his followers and warns of the dangers of salt that has lost its flavor. Might we link "salt" with the power of the Holy Spirit at work in followers of Christ? Trying to live as a Christian without the active participation of the Spirit can make us dull and flavor-less, adding little to the world around us beyond vague talk of love and ordered worship in pretty buildings. Is Jesus condemning the Spirit-less religiosity he so often saw in the religious leaders of his time?
What does it mean to have salt in ourselves? It means, in part, that we feel the flow of God-Life in us; we know we’re part of an enterprise bigger than ourselves. It means we confront discouragement with prayer, and defeat with hope, sorrow with a joy borne not of circumstances, but of faith.
When do you feel the most “salty,” alive, full of flavor as a Christian? Is it in works of service or giving? In worship or prayer? When you’re reading the bible? Organizing ministries for others to live into? Talking about God’s involvement in your life? Pay attention to where you most come alive – chances are that’s where you have salt within yourself. And when we have salt within ourselves, it’s not so hard to be at peace with one another.
© 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.
9-26-24 - The Great Surgeon
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
It is somewhat ironic to hear the man who healed the maimed, the lame and the blind suggest people put themselves in such states, but here it is, one of the toughest of all of Jesus’ tough teachings: “If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.”
It is a challenge to find the Good News in this “Grand Guignol” of Jesus sayings. This is a violent wake-up call to be clear about our priorities, to be realistic about the consequences of sin – and to put God-Life first, no matter what. It is a message short on grace and forgiveness, and in its stark clarity offers a kind of tough love we might recognize from other spheres.
Think, for instance, what we might say to an addict one bender away from losing her life. In such light, this language doesn’t look so harsh. Or an oncologist telling a patient that his only hope is to cut out a tumor, even at the risk of compromising healthy tissue. We wouldn’t think twice. Often we fail to connect sin with such dire consequences in our lives – surely we have time to shape up, ask forgiveness, we think; we can get straightened out tomorrow. One more day of gossip or petty lies or gluttony won’t make that great a difference, right? That’s how we’ve gotten ourselves into our climate crisis.
If we’re willing to take sin seriously without obsessing about it, there are many more gentle measures we can take before it becomes a cancer in our lives, or a will-weakening addiction. We can adopt a practice of regular confession, not so we wallow in our sins, but to shine the light of truth upon ourselves and recognize the often unseen effects of sinful tendencies in us. We can practice forgiving others regularly, so that we don’t let resentment and judgment build up. We can cultivate compassion, which allows us to look past the damage we do or endure, and pray for the wounded person behind the actions.
Are there patterns, habits, even people in your life whom you would do well to cut off, cut out, so that you can live in greater freedom and purpose? Are there parts of yourself that need to be cut away? I was once praying about an over-dependency I had, and got an image of a big, bloody, tuberous tumor in a chest cavity, attached by numerous blood vessels, which I had to let Jesus remove and heal. Yuck – and Alleluia.
We can trust ourselves to the Great Physician, the surgeon who knows how to cut cleanly, the healer who knows how to apply balm to our wounds and restore us to wholeness.
© 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.
It is somewhat ironic to hear the man who healed the maimed, the lame and the blind suggest people put themselves in such states, but here it is, one of the toughest of all of Jesus’ tough teachings: “If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.”
It is a challenge to find the Good News in this “Grand Guignol” of Jesus sayings. This is a violent wake-up call to be clear about our priorities, to be realistic about the consequences of sin – and to put God-Life first, no matter what. It is a message short on grace and forgiveness, and in its stark clarity offers a kind of tough love we might recognize from other spheres.
Think, for instance, what we might say to an addict one bender away from losing her life. In such light, this language doesn’t look so harsh. Or an oncologist telling a patient that his only hope is to cut out a tumor, even at the risk of compromising healthy tissue. We wouldn’t think twice. Often we fail to connect sin with such dire consequences in our lives – surely we have time to shape up, ask forgiveness, we think; we can get straightened out tomorrow. One more day of gossip or petty lies or gluttony won’t make that great a difference, right? That’s how we’ve gotten ourselves into our climate crisis.
If we’re willing to take sin seriously without obsessing about it, there are many more gentle measures we can take before it becomes a cancer in our lives, or a will-weakening addiction. We can adopt a practice of regular confession, not so we wallow in our sins, but to shine the light of truth upon ourselves and recognize the often unseen effects of sinful tendencies in us. We can practice forgiving others regularly, so that we don’t let resentment and judgment build up. We can cultivate compassion, which allows us to look past the damage we do or endure, and pray for the wounded person behind the actions.
Are there patterns, habits, even people in your life whom you would do well to cut off, cut out, so that you can live in greater freedom and purpose? Are there parts of yourself that need to be cut away? I was once praying about an over-dependency I had, and got an image of a big, bloody, tuberous tumor in a chest cavity, attached by numerous blood vessels, which I had to let Jesus remove and heal. Yuck – and Alleluia.
We can trust ourselves to the Great Physician, the surgeon who knows how to cut cleanly, the healer who knows how to apply balm to our wounds and restore us to wholeness.
© 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.
9-25-24 - Jesus Gets Tough
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Sunday’s gospel passage is really several different teachings put together – or it reads that way. How otherwise to account for the abrupt change in mood from Jesus’ conversation with his disciples about how to respond to people outside the faith community to his stern warning against blocking children – and maybe also the poor and powerless – from believing in him: “If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.”
By “these little ones” he didn’t necessarily mean children. He may well have been referring to simple folk, plain, uneducated, unimportant in the eyes of society’s leaders. Who would dream of putting “stumbling blocks” in the way of such people? Not, we hope, his disciples, though more than once we see them trying to hush beggars or lepers calling out for Jesus.
He may have been targeting the religious leaders, Pharisees and scribes, whom he so often accused of laying burdens on people, making them feel they could never measure up to the demands of the law, forgetting the breadth of God’s mercy. Any insistence on the “right way” to believe, to act, to think, to worship can serve as a stumbling block to someone who has not been raised that way, or has another way of celebrating the love of God.
Are we snared here? Are there people whose spiritual progress toward Christ we impede? Do we create barriers in the way we organize ourselves or worship – not saying, “You need a decent suit/a certain color skin/ a college degree/a love for 19th century music to enjoy worship here,” but subtly conveying it? Maybe we don’t impede – but neither do we facilitate. Do we celebrate people’s belief in Christ wherever we find it, even if the packaging is different than ours? Are we out there creating easy on-ramps to faith by being open about our faith in Christ and the Good News?
There are people with a simple and natural faith in Jesus. I’m sure you can think of a few if you try. We need ask nothing of them but that they show us how to love our Lord so simply and so fully, for sometimes in our complexity we create stumbling blocks for ourselves.
© 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.
Sunday’s gospel passage is really several different teachings put together – or it reads that way. How otherwise to account for the abrupt change in mood from Jesus’ conversation with his disciples about how to respond to people outside the faith community to his stern warning against blocking children – and maybe also the poor and powerless – from believing in him: “If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.”
By “these little ones” he didn’t necessarily mean children. He may well have been referring to simple folk, plain, uneducated, unimportant in the eyes of society’s leaders. Who would dream of putting “stumbling blocks” in the way of such people? Not, we hope, his disciples, though more than once we see them trying to hush beggars or lepers calling out for Jesus.
He may have been targeting the religious leaders, Pharisees and scribes, whom he so often accused of laying burdens on people, making them feel they could never measure up to the demands of the law, forgetting the breadth of God’s mercy. Any insistence on the “right way” to believe, to act, to think, to worship can serve as a stumbling block to someone who has not been raised that way, or has another way of celebrating the love of God.
Are we snared here? Are there people whose spiritual progress toward Christ we impede? Do we create barriers in the way we organize ourselves or worship – not saying, “You need a decent suit/a certain color skin/ a college degree/a love for 19th century music to enjoy worship here,” but subtly conveying it? Maybe we don’t impede – but neither do we facilitate. Do we celebrate people’s belief in Christ wherever we find it, even if the packaging is different than ours? Are we out there creating easy on-ramps to faith by being open about our faith in Christ and the Good News?
There are people with a simple and natural faith in Jesus. I’m sure you can think of a few if you try. We need ask nothing of them but that they show us how to love our Lord so simply and so fully, for sometimes in our complexity we create stumbling blocks for ourselves.
© 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.
9-24-24 - Cups of Water
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Pope Francis’ apostolic journey to Asia and Oceania has generated much excitement, and not only among Roman Catholics. Whenever Pope Francis speaks out or takes an action – or takes a multi-day journey at his advanced age – he causes a stir. He speaks the truth about what matters – financial inequities, environmental destruction, intolerance, war-mongering, all of it.
It is gratifying to see a Christian leader lauded by such a wide range of people. In his humility and authenticity and commitment to the Gospel that Jesus actually preached, Francis has helped restore the tarnished image of Christianity. I see in the outpouring of welcome for him a shade of what Jesus said to his disciples after they complained that someone outside their group was attempting to work miracles in Jesus’ name: “Whoever is not against us is for us. For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.”
Many churches feel increasingly isolated from their communities as efforts to attract people to worship services are met with so little success. And it is true that what institutional religion is selling does not seem to be of great interest to many in today’s Western societies. Where churches can expand is by inviting people to join them in works of service. That is a most natural way to share faith, working alongside people who are not part of our congregations, making space for them to bring “cups of water” to us and those with whom we work to address needs and change structures. From inviting people to help us serve meals in soup kitchens to promoting gun violence prevention, there are many access points that might appeal to the un- or de-churched.
What works of service or advocacy are you involved in? Who from beyond your congregation might you invite to join you? How might you lift up the gifts of such people, making them full partners in your work? How might you communicate that your commitment to this work is rooted in your relationship with Christ, that you work in his name?
Put another way: Who around us is offering us cups of water because we bear the name of Christ, affirming our work and our commitments? By all means, let’s take the water and drink it, and build on the friendship from there. We know a little something about the water of life.
© 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.
Pope Francis’ apostolic journey to Asia and Oceania has generated much excitement, and not only among Roman Catholics. Whenever Pope Francis speaks out or takes an action – or takes a multi-day journey at his advanced age – he causes a stir. He speaks the truth about what matters – financial inequities, environmental destruction, intolerance, war-mongering, all of it.
It is gratifying to see a Christian leader lauded by such a wide range of people. In his humility and authenticity and commitment to the Gospel that Jesus actually preached, Francis has helped restore the tarnished image of Christianity. I see in the outpouring of welcome for him a shade of what Jesus said to his disciples after they complained that someone outside their group was attempting to work miracles in Jesus’ name: “Whoever is not against us is for us. For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.”
Many churches feel increasingly isolated from their communities as efforts to attract people to worship services are met with so little success. And it is true that what institutional religion is selling does not seem to be of great interest to many in today’s Western societies. Where churches can expand is by inviting people to join them in works of service. That is a most natural way to share faith, working alongside people who are not part of our congregations, making space for them to bring “cups of water” to us and those with whom we work to address needs and change structures. From inviting people to help us serve meals in soup kitchens to promoting gun violence prevention, there are many access points that might appeal to the un- or de-churched.
What works of service or advocacy are you involved in? Who from beyond your congregation might you invite to join you? How might you lift up the gifts of such people, making them full partners in your work? How might you communicate that your commitment to this work is rooted in your relationship with Christ, that you work in his name?
Put another way: Who around us is offering us cups of water because we bear the name of Christ, affirming our work and our commitments? By all means, let’s take the water and drink it, and build on the friendship from there. We know a little something about the water of life.
© 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.
9-23-24 - The Interfaith Gospel
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I used to lead a large regional interfaith organization in Southwestern Connecticut. Now I chair an Interfaith Commission which is part of my county's government. God has a sense of humor, I guess – I was never much interested in interfaith work, being more focused on helping Christians become more connected to Christ, and much more involved in what he actually taught and did.
Yet I have discovered that people of other faith traditions often recognize the power of Jesus, and live according to the values of the Kingdom, even if they don’t acknowledge him as the Son of God. Evidently this is not a new phenomenon: John said to Jesus, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” But Jesus said, “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us.”
That’s a far cry from “whoever is not for us is against us,” which is the kind of rhetoric you hear from those who claim that “Christianity is under attack in this country." Jesus makes a radically open statement here – that those who honor him, even if they have not made the choice (or been offered the choice…) to follow him as Lord, are to be honored as allies and co-laborers.
I have a Muslim friend with a powerful ministry of healing prayer. That challenged me at first – I think of Christ as the one who heals. And maybe He is healing through the prayers of this very faithful, very humble, very devout Muslim. I have a Jewish friend who loves to worship Jesus. I have Sikh friends steeped in peaceful anti-violence work, and Baha’I friends who offer hospitality beyond measure. I know countless people who claim no faith or religious affiliation whatsoever doing amazing work to restore people and communities and generously give of their resources. In a time when highly visible Christians in our country vocally support hatred, racism, misogyny, discrimination, violence, xenophobia and a bias against the poor, we need to look beyond labels to words and actions.
I am not saying there is no distinction between religious traditions – I don’t subscribe to the “all religions are the same” view. As a committed follower of Christ, I believe he is Lord, Messiah, Redeemer, the Way, the Truth and the Life, and I seek to introduce people in my life to this Lord who is the source of peace, power, presence and purpose for me. Yet I also affirm the goodness and love present in many of the world’s religious traditions – and recognize that God is bigger than the categories in which we try to contain him. Big enough even to work through people who don’t know Jesus as Lord, but work in his name.
Who do you know like that? How can you support their work? People will more likely see something of value in the Way of following Christ when we start celebrating love wherever we find 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 used to lead a large regional interfaith organization in Southwestern Connecticut. Now I chair an Interfaith Commission which is part of my county's government. God has a sense of humor, I guess – I was never much interested in interfaith work, being more focused on helping Christians become more connected to Christ, and much more involved in what he actually taught and did.
Yet I have discovered that people of other faith traditions often recognize the power of Jesus, and live according to the values of the Kingdom, even if they don’t acknowledge him as the Son of God. Evidently this is not a new phenomenon: John said to Jesus, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” But Jesus said, “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us.”
That’s a far cry from “whoever is not for us is against us,” which is the kind of rhetoric you hear from those who claim that “Christianity is under attack in this country." Jesus makes a radically open statement here – that those who honor him, even if they have not made the choice (or been offered the choice…) to follow him as Lord, are to be honored as allies and co-laborers.
I have a Muslim friend with a powerful ministry of healing prayer. That challenged me at first – I think of Christ as the one who heals. And maybe He is healing through the prayers of this very faithful, very humble, very devout Muslim. I have a Jewish friend who loves to worship Jesus. I have Sikh friends steeped in peaceful anti-violence work, and Baha’I friends who offer hospitality beyond measure. I know countless people who claim no faith or religious affiliation whatsoever doing amazing work to restore people and communities and generously give of their resources. In a time when highly visible Christians in our country vocally support hatred, racism, misogyny, discrimination, violence, xenophobia and a bias against the poor, we need to look beyond labels to words and actions.
I am not saying there is no distinction between religious traditions – I don’t subscribe to the “all religions are the same” view. As a committed follower of Christ, I believe he is Lord, Messiah, Redeemer, the Way, the Truth and the Life, and I seek to introduce people in my life to this Lord who is the source of peace, power, presence and purpose for me. Yet I also affirm the goodness and love present in many of the world’s religious traditions – and recognize that God is bigger than the categories in which we try to contain him. Big enough even to work through people who don’t know Jesus as Lord, but work in his name.
Who do you know like that? How can you support their work? People will more likely see something of value in the Way of following Christ when we start celebrating love wherever we find 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.
9-20-24 - Putting Children First
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This month my parishes are having a worship series on “Celebrating Creation,” following the “Season for Creation”resources developed for worship by the Episcopal church. This week look at the urgency of dealing with the climate crisis from the perspective of Jesus’ teaching that to accept a child in his name is to accept him. In placing such value on the life of a child, often devalued in that society – and our own – he was challenging his followers to foster the beloved community he was forging, in which children, the elderly and infirm, the poor and the marginalized, are seen as gifts to be nurtured, not resources to be exploited.
Or course, that is also how we are invited to see this creation God has made and set us into, as shared creation, gifts to be cherished, not resources to be exploited. And if people actually put the lives of their beloved grandchildren first, we wouldn’t be in this crisis in the first place. Leaving a place better than your found it should be foundational for human beings. Yet we are the only species who “foul our own nest,” whose declared devotion to those very grandchildren of whom we will quickly whip out pictures seems not to reach beyond our own departures from this planet.
What does it mean to leave an inhabitable planet for our descendants? Here are some requirements:
What are we willing to do, and stop doing, in order to leave a habitable and beautiful world for those beloveds who come after us? Be specific!
© 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 month my parishes are having a worship series on “Celebrating Creation,” following the “Season for Creation”resources developed for worship by the Episcopal church. This week look at the urgency of dealing with the climate crisis from the perspective of Jesus’ teaching that to accept a child in his name is to accept him. In placing such value on the life of a child, often devalued in that society – and our own – he was challenging his followers to foster the beloved community he was forging, in which children, the elderly and infirm, the poor and the marginalized, are seen as gifts to be nurtured, not resources to be exploited.
Or course, that is also how we are invited to see this creation God has made and set us into, as shared creation, gifts to be cherished, not resources to be exploited. And if people actually put the lives of their beloved grandchildren first, we wouldn’t be in this crisis in the first place. Leaving a place better than your found it should be foundational for human beings. Yet we are the only species who “foul our own nest,” whose declared devotion to those very grandchildren of whom we will quickly whip out pictures seems not to reach beyond our own departures from this planet.
What does it mean to leave an inhabitable planet for our descendants? Here are some requirements:
- breathable air
- sufficient and potable water
- good soil for growing food
- safe housing
- safe places for recreation and play
What are we willing to do, and stop doing, in order to leave a habitable and beautiful world for those beloveds who come after us? Be specific!
© 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.
9-19-24 - The Holy Child
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
It’s a Kodak moment: Jesus picks up a small child to illustrate his point about humility and servanthood: He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”
We find this moment sweet, because children are accorded high status in our culture. Not so much in Jesus’ time, when children were viewed as among the last – maybe ahead of slaves, but valued largely for the labor they would one day perform for the household. (Mark can’t be bothered to record this child’s gender, referring only to “it.”)
For Jesus to equate welcoming a child with welcoming him was radical, not sentimental. And he is more subversive still – for he implicitly links welcoming the child to welcoming God the Father. God represented by a powerless, status-less child? What kind of God is this?
Perhaps the kind of God who would send his son into human life as a helpless infant, at the mercy of forces political, historical and familial. The kind of God who demonstrated his power in vulnerability, who allowed that son to die the death of the “last," naked, nailed to a cross, as powerless as can be. This not the first time in the Jesus story that welcoming a child is equivalent to welcoming him. His parents, the shepherds, the magi – they all did it first.
In what ways are we called to welcome children in the name of Jesus? Certainly by according them dignity and respect in our worshiping communities, making room for their voices and wisdom (and artwork). We welcome them by spending time getting to know them as people, not adults-in-training, but already saints of God with gifts for the rest of us.
And we are called to welcome children in Jesus’ name outside our congregations too. We are called to place such value on children that we happily provide tax monies for their education, and support laws to keep them safe from harm. We come to regard every child in every country on this earth as precious and worthy of food, water, housing and education - and security.
More Kodak moments: The body of a small Palestinian boy lying on a street in Gaza, so still he could be sleeping. But he is dead, the victim of global conflicts and policies. A small girl held on America’s southern border, separated from her parents, alone and at the mercy of law enforcement officials not trained to deal with her. A young boy in an American school, standing over the body of his dead friend, killed in front of him in yet one more incidence of unfettered gun violence.
Jesus said, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me."
© 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.
It’s a Kodak moment: Jesus picks up a small child to illustrate his point about humility and servanthood: He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”
We find this moment sweet, because children are accorded high status in our culture. Not so much in Jesus’ time, when children were viewed as among the last – maybe ahead of slaves, but valued largely for the labor they would one day perform for the household. (Mark can’t be bothered to record this child’s gender, referring only to “it.”)
For Jesus to equate welcoming a child with welcoming him was radical, not sentimental. And he is more subversive still – for he implicitly links welcoming the child to welcoming God the Father. God represented by a powerless, status-less child? What kind of God is this?
Perhaps the kind of God who would send his son into human life as a helpless infant, at the mercy of forces political, historical and familial. The kind of God who demonstrated his power in vulnerability, who allowed that son to die the death of the “last," naked, nailed to a cross, as powerless as can be. This not the first time in the Jesus story that welcoming a child is equivalent to welcoming him. His parents, the shepherds, the magi – they all did it first.
In what ways are we called to welcome children in the name of Jesus? Certainly by according them dignity and respect in our worshiping communities, making room for their voices and wisdom (and artwork). We welcome them by spending time getting to know them as people, not adults-in-training, but already saints of God with gifts for the rest of us.
And we are called to welcome children in Jesus’ name outside our congregations too. We are called to place such value on children that we happily provide tax monies for their education, and support laws to keep them safe from harm. We come to regard every child in every country on this earth as precious and worthy of food, water, housing and education - and security.
More Kodak moments: The body of a small Palestinian boy lying on a street in Gaza, so still he could be sleeping. But he is dead, the victim of global conflicts and policies. A small girl held on America’s southern border, separated from her parents, alone and at the mercy of law enforcement officials not trained to deal with her. A young boy in an American school, standing over the body of his dead friend, killed in front of him in yet one more incidence of unfettered gun violence.
Jesus said, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me."
© 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.
9-18-24 - Doormats - or Doorways?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
We all know people like this – and some of us have been people like this. People who jump up to fetch anything anyone might need, who are always asking, “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?,” who put aside their lives and careers to care for children or infirm parents, who show up at events even when they’re tired. As a culture, we’re ambivalent about such folks – sometimes we say, “What a saint!” and other times, “How codependent is she!”
Some of Jesus' teaching sounds like we are to be holy doormats, laying aside our own agendas, never seeking to be in charge, always serving. For instance, when he heard his disciples arguing about who was the greatest, He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”
Does the virtue of Christian humility demand that we sacrifice our dreams and passions? Or does being the servant of all rather require that we be true to who God made us to be? Think about it: we cannot empty ourselves if we are not full of ourselves.
Our culture defines being “full of oneself” as conceited, self-promoting. But that way of being comes from a place of insecurity, a heart that is empty, a self that is not quite full. A healthy person knows who she or he is, faults and blind spots, strengths and gifts. Only as we truly own the fullness of who God made us to be can we empty ourselves for the sake of God’s mission. After all, Jesus did not pour himself out from stocks that were running low; he poured himself out from the fullness of his humanity and divinity.
If we want to excel as disciples of Jesus Christ, it is our calling to serve the world in his name. How does serving others sit with you? Is it comfortable? Challenging? Too familiar? Demeaning? If it is your default position, make sure your giving is in balance with your being nourished by God and the community. If serving others is uncomfortable, practice. Go serve a meal at a shelter or soup kitchen. Take on a clerical task in your work life, even if you’re an executive.
First or last, we are never alone in our serving. We serve alongside the One who had everything and gave it all in service to an ungrateful world. He can show us how to be servants of all with dignity and grace, so that we become not doormats, but doorways into God's presence.
© 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 all know people like this – and some of us have been people like this. People who jump up to fetch anything anyone might need, who are always asking, “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?,” who put aside their lives and careers to care for children or infirm parents, who show up at events even when they’re tired. As a culture, we’re ambivalent about such folks – sometimes we say, “What a saint!” and other times, “How codependent is she!”
Some of Jesus' teaching sounds like we are to be holy doormats, laying aside our own agendas, never seeking to be in charge, always serving. For instance, when he heard his disciples arguing about who was the greatest, He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”
Does the virtue of Christian humility demand that we sacrifice our dreams and passions? Or does being the servant of all rather require that we be true to who God made us to be? Think about it: we cannot empty ourselves if we are not full of ourselves.
Our culture defines being “full of oneself” as conceited, self-promoting. But that way of being comes from a place of insecurity, a heart that is empty, a self that is not quite full. A healthy person knows who she or he is, faults and blind spots, strengths and gifts. Only as we truly own the fullness of who God made us to be can we empty ourselves for the sake of God’s mission. After all, Jesus did not pour himself out from stocks that were running low; he poured himself out from the fullness of his humanity and divinity.
If we want to excel as disciples of Jesus Christ, it is our calling to serve the world in his name. How does serving others sit with you? Is it comfortable? Challenging? Too familiar? Demeaning? If it is your default position, make sure your giving is in balance with your being nourished by God and the community. If serving others is uncomfortable, practice. Go serve a meal at a shelter or soup kitchen. Take on a clerical task in your work life, even if you’re an executive.
First or last, we are never alone in our serving. We serve alongside the One who had everything and gave it all in service to an ungrateful world. He can show us how to be servants of all with dignity and grace, so that we become not doormats, but doorways into God's presence.
© 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.
9-17-24 - Jockeying For Position
You can listen to this reflection here.
Squabbling in the car on an endless road trip; that’s what I think of when I read this week’s gospel passage, and Jesus’ questioning of his disciples: Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest.
There is something about traveling that increases tension – and when your leader has just announced that soon he will be arrested, tried and executed, that tension can go through the roof. Afraid to ask Jesus what he was talking about, his disciples instead turned on each other, talking about who was greater than the next. They appear to have been jockeying for position, little realizing that the more visible they were as leaders in Jesus’ community, the more at risk they were.
Jockeying for position is something humans tend to do when we are insecure about where we are. Oh, there are some ruthlessly ambitious people who are always looking for an angle to get ahead, but most of us stay pretty content unless the ground starts to shift. Then it suddenly matters how we’re perceived and where we’re received.
As Christ-followers, we don’t have to do that. One of the huge gifts that come with membership in the household of God is freedom from having to position ourselves. In a community in which no one has more value than anyone else, no matter their level of accomplishment or productivity, we don’t have to compete with one another for attention or reward. If God already loves us the most, and is already as delighted with us as God could possibly be, why worry about being seen as worthy or getting ahead of other people?
Of course, many of us still do, because we’re human and it takes a long time for the knowledge of God’s unmerited and limitless grace to replace the messages of competition and progress we ingest from family, school and workplace. It doesn’t hurt to remind ourselves daily of our infinite worth in the eyes of the Infinite Being. Or to remind each other. If Jesus’ disciples had grasped that sooner, they would have had a different experience of being with him. They got it eventually - and so, God willing, will we.
© 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.
Squabbling in the car on an endless road trip; that’s what I think of when I read this week’s gospel passage, and Jesus’ questioning of his disciples: Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest.
There is something about traveling that increases tension – and when your leader has just announced that soon he will be arrested, tried and executed, that tension can go through the roof. Afraid to ask Jesus what he was talking about, his disciples instead turned on each other, talking about who was greater than the next. They appear to have been jockeying for position, little realizing that the more visible they were as leaders in Jesus’ community, the more at risk they were.
Jockeying for position is something humans tend to do when we are insecure about where we are. Oh, there are some ruthlessly ambitious people who are always looking for an angle to get ahead, but most of us stay pretty content unless the ground starts to shift. Then it suddenly matters how we’re perceived and where we’re received.
As Christ-followers, we don’t have to do that. One of the huge gifts that come with membership in the household of God is freedom from having to position ourselves. In a community in which no one has more value than anyone else, no matter their level of accomplishment or productivity, we don’t have to compete with one another for attention or reward. If God already loves us the most, and is already as delighted with us as God could possibly be, why worry about being seen as worthy or getting ahead of other people?
Of course, many of us still do, because we’re human and it takes a long time for the knowledge of God’s unmerited and limitless grace to replace the messages of competition and progress we ingest from family, school and workplace. It doesn’t hurt to remind ourselves daily of our infinite worth in the eyes of the Infinite Being. Or to remind each other. If Jesus’ disciples had grasped that sooner, they would have had a different experience of being with him. They got it eventually - and so, God willing, will we.
© 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.
9-16-24 - Afraid To Ask
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
You know that awful feeling when you sense something is amiss, and you don’t know what it is, and that even asking about it might make it worse? Often we will do all we can to suppress that niggling worry, afraid to ask what’s actually going on. That’s how Jesus’ disciples felt as they traveled with him through Galilee and he continued to talk about the bitter treatment he was going to encounter. They went on from there and passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it; for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, “The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.” But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.
It’s not that he was unclear – he says this at least three times as they journey on. But his words make no sense in light of their understanding that he is the Messiah, the Savior. The idea that their Jesus, so sought after by the rich and influential as well as the poor and marginalized, could be betrayed was unthinkable. And that he could be killed, he who held the power of God in his hands, who could command storms to be stilled and blind eyes to see? How could that be? And what is this he said about rising again? I suspect that made so little sense they hardly heard it. His words were so unsettling in every way, they were afraid to ask him to explain what he was talking about.
Even we, so long after the fact, left with a story we celebrate but can’t fully comprehend, let alone find Good News in, can find it hard to ask God to explain it. We might fear finding ourselves adrift in a sea of doubt, or losing our faith entirely. So we hold it at arm’s length, celebrating the high points, acknowledging the cross and empty tomb, but not wandering too close.
I believe Jesus yearns for us to wander close, just as I suspect he wished his followers would have asked him directly what he meant. Asking God to help make sense of what makes no sense is central to a living faith. It is how we deepen our relationship with God.
What are your biggest questions about the Christian faith and story? Have you asked those in prayer? Try, “Jesus, why did you have to die? Why would a sacrifice be necessary for a God of love?” and listen for an answer. A thought might pop into your head, or over the next few weeks you might find yourself encountering a response. We can do the same with questions about our own lives and this heart-breaking, beautiful world. "Why, Lord?" "What, Lord?"
A friend has a phrase, almost a mantra, she repeats often, “Be open, be curious.” Freedom comes as we surface the hard questions and open ourselves to exploring the answers. We draw closer to the God of mystery in the asking. In the end, that may be the only answer we really need.
© 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.
You know that awful feeling when you sense something is amiss, and you don’t know what it is, and that even asking about it might make it worse? Often we will do all we can to suppress that niggling worry, afraid to ask what’s actually going on. That’s how Jesus’ disciples felt as they traveled with him through Galilee and he continued to talk about the bitter treatment he was going to encounter. They went on from there and passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it; for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, “The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.” But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.
It’s not that he was unclear – he says this at least three times as they journey on. But his words make no sense in light of their understanding that he is the Messiah, the Savior. The idea that their Jesus, so sought after by the rich and influential as well as the poor and marginalized, could be betrayed was unthinkable. And that he could be killed, he who held the power of God in his hands, who could command storms to be stilled and blind eyes to see? How could that be? And what is this he said about rising again? I suspect that made so little sense they hardly heard it. His words were so unsettling in every way, they were afraid to ask him to explain what he was talking about.
Even we, so long after the fact, left with a story we celebrate but can’t fully comprehend, let alone find Good News in, can find it hard to ask God to explain it. We might fear finding ourselves adrift in a sea of doubt, or losing our faith entirely. So we hold it at arm’s length, celebrating the high points, acknowledging the cross and empty tomb, but not wandering too close.
I believe Jesus yearns for us to wander close, just as I suspect he wished his followers would have asked him directly what he meant. Asking God to help make sense of what makes no sense is central to a living faith. It is how we deepen our relationship with God.
What are your biggest questions about the Christian faith and story? Have you asked those in prayer? Try, “Jesus, why did you have to die? Why would a sacrifice be necessary for a God of love?” and listen for an answer. A thought might pop into your head, or over the next few weeks you might find yourself encountering a response. We can do the same with questions about our own lives and this heart-breaking, beautiful world. "Why, Lord?" "What, Lord?"
A friend has a phrase, almost a mantra, she repeats often, “Be open, be curious.” Freedom comes as we surface the hard questions and open ourselves to exploring the answers. We draw closer to the God of mystery in the asking. In the end, that may be the only answer we really need.
© 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.
9-13-24 - Losing Our Life(style)
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This month my parishes are having a worship series on “Celebrating Creation,” following the “Season for Creation”resources developed for worship by the Episcopal church. This week we reflect on what Jesus' teaching that we must “lose our life for the sake of the gospel in order to save it” might mean when it comes to saving our planet. Being a disciple of Jesus and a lover of God includes caring for the creation God made, especially when it has been damaged almost beyond repair by human over-consumption and practices that degrade the earth, its habitats and creatures.
If we choose to live like we care in order to heal our earth (the first two themes in our worship series…) we will have to be willing to lose our lifestyle (the third) – or at least dial back our addiction to three “c’s” – convenience, comfort and consumption. Those happen also to be things that impede our Christian discipleship.
Convenience – so much of the garbage choking our planets waterways and wildlife is a consequence of our addiction to convenience – fast food and its packaging; online ordering and its packaging and use of fossil fuels; processed foods with their high chemical content; paper towels and disposable wipes for the spills we can’t take an extra five minutes to clean with reusable sponges – these are just a few examples. Where is convenience driving your consumption and increasing your trash volume? Where are some places you can cut back or change your patterns to so you can reduce, reuse, recycle even if it takes a little longer and a little more effort? What can we teach our grandchildren?
Comfort – Americans are increasingly addicted to living in a very narrow temperature range – too cold in the summers and too warm in the winters. Feeding this addiction to total comfort all the time contributes directly to the overheating of our planet, to extreme heat and weather that is making life untenable for many of the rest of the planet’s residents and wildlife. Air conditioners in a city can raise the outside temperature by 3 or 4 degrees – when we’re already at 85 or 90, think about the implications. This narrow comfort range is also unhealthy, causing our bodies to lose the ability to adapt. Where might we compromise our desire for “comfort” for the sake of the rest of the world?
Consumption – So much of our climate crisis has been driven by our insatiable desire for more stuff, more food, more drink – perhaps to help stuff down our feelings at seeing the damage our over-consumption has done to our earth. Consumption drives us to mine precious metals at great cost to the habitats around them, to torture and slaughter chickens, pigs, cows and other animals, to over-fish our oceans, over-farm our land… just think of the implications of our lust for a certain kind of avocado, which has fueled cartel violence and the degradation of the landscape. Can we train ourselves to eat locally sourced foods and become more moderate in our appetites?
What if we tweaked Jesus’ words to his disciples: He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, ‘If any want to heal this earth God has given us, let them deny themselves and take up their care for creation and follow me. For those who want to save their lifestyle will lose it, and those who lose their lifestyle for my sake, and for the sake of my creation, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?
It is our lives in the balance, my friends – and certainly the lives of our grandchildren consigned to live on a planet that can no longer sustain human life. If that doesn’t get us moving, what will?
© 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 month my parishes are having a worship series on “Celebrating Creation,” following the “Season for Creation”resources developed for worship by the Episcopal church. This week we reflect on what Jesus' teaching that we must “lose our life for the sake of the gospel in order to save it” might mean when it comes to saving our planet. Being a disciple of Jesus and a lover of God includes caring for the creation God made, especially when it has been damaged almost beyond repair by human over-consumption and practices that degrade the earth, its habitats and creatures.
If we choose to live like we care in order to heal our earth (the first two themes in our worship series…) we will have to be willing to lose our lifestyle (the third) – or at least dial back our addiction to three “c’s” – convenience, comfort and consumption. Those happen also to be things that impede our Christian discipleship.
Convenience – so much of the garbage choking our planets waterways and wildlife is a consequence of our addiction to convenience – fast food and its packaging; online ordering and its packaging and use of fossil fuels; processed foods with their high chemical content; paper towels and disposable wipes for the spills we can’t take an extra five minutes to clean with reusable sponges – these are just a few examples. Where is convenience driving your consumption and increasing your trash volume? Where are some places you can cut back or change your patterns to so you can reduce, reuse, recycle even if it takes a little longer and a little more effort? What can we teach our grandchildren?
Comfort – Americans are increasingly addicted to living in a very narrow temperature range – too cold in the summers and too warm in the winters. Feeding this addiction to total comfort all the time contributes directly to the overheating of our planet, to extreme heat and weather that is making life untenable for many of the rest of the planet’s residents and wildlife. Air conditioners in a city can raise the outside temperature by 3 or 4 degrees – when we’re already at 85 or 90, think about the implications. This narrow comfort range is also unhealthy, causing our bodies to lose the ability to adapt. Where might we compromise our desire for “comfort” for the sake of the rest of the world?
Consumption – So much of our climate crisis has been driven by our insatiable desire for more stuff, more food, more drink – perhaps to help stuff down our feelings at seeing the damage our over-consumption has done to our earth. Consumption drives us to mine precious metals at great cost to the habitats around them, to torture and slaughter chickens, pigs, cows and other animals, to over-fish our oceans, over-farm our land… just think of the implications of our lust for a certain kind of avocado, which has fueled cartel violence and the degradation of the landscape. Can we train ourselves to eat locally sourced foods and become more moderate in our appetites?
What if we tweaked Jesus’ words to his disciples: He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, ‘If any want to heal this earth God has given us, let them deny themselves and take up their care for creation and follow me. For those who want to save their lifestyle will lose it, and those who lose their lifestyle for my sake, and for the sake of my creation, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?
It is our lives in the balance, my friends – and certainly the lives of our grandchildren consigned to live on a planet that can no longer sustain human life. If that doesn’t get us moving, what will?
© 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.
9-12-24 - Thinking Like God
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When Jesus tells his followers the horrors that are to befall the “Son of Man,” Peter takes him aside and admonishes him. “Don’t be talking like that! How can anything bad happen to you? I’ve just said I believe you are the Messiah!” And Jesus in turn rebukes Peter, quite harshly, telling him: “You are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
Jesus was asking a lot of Peter. Yet that neatly describes the task of discipleship: learning to think like God. Paul writes that those who would follow Jesus “Have the mind of Christ.” This makes sense – if we are united with Christ in baptism, if he takes up residence in us through the presence of the Holy Spirit, then we have his mind as well, not replacing our own, but informing, even transforming ours.
Our minds and capacity for thought are among God’s greatest gifts to us. They are also the seat of our strongest resistance to God. Funny how that is… Before we can set our mind on the things of God we have to become aware of the distinction between our own thoughts and God’s thoughts. Whenever we become aware that we are thinking out of our own reality – say, when anxiety or anger are leading the way, or we're convinced faith is irrational, or when we’re set on a course that we know is other than the way God would work in us – we can ask God to show us situations or people as God sees them. Often a broader perspective opens immediately.
This week, try to notice when your thoughts are purely human, and when they seem tinged with the holy. This is a spiritual practice we can cultivate; as we become conscious, gradually we learn to think more like God. As Paul exhorts us in Romans 12:2: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.”
It is a delicate balance to prize the gift of human nature and yet allow God’s life to grow in us and uproot everything that is not of God. Perhaps this is best summed up in the adage, “God loves us just the way we are – and far too much to leave us that way.”
© 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 Jesus tells his followers the horrors that are to befall the “Son of Man,” Peter takes him aside and admonishes him. “Don’t be talking like that! How can anything bad happen to you? I’ve just said I believe you are the Messiah!” And Jesus in turn rebukes Peter, quite harshly, telling him: “You are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
Jesus was asking a lot of Peter. Yet that neatly describes the task of discipleship: learning to think like God. Paul writes that those who would follow Jesus “Have the mind of Christ.” This makes sense – if we are united with Christ in baptism, if he takes up residence in us through the presence of the Holy Spirit, then we have his mind as well, not replacing our own, but informing, even transforming ours.
Our minds and capacity for thought are among God’s greatest gifts to us. They are also the seat of our strongest resistance to God. Funny how that is… Before we can set our mind on the things of God we have to become aware of the distinction between our own thoughts and God’s thoughts. Whenever we become aware that we are thinking out of our own reality – say, when anxiety or anger are leading the way, or we're convinced faith is irrational, or when we’re set on a course that we know is other than the way God would work in us – we can ask God to show us situations or people as God sees them. Often a broader perspective opens immediately.
This week, try to notice when your thoughts are purely human, and when they seem tinged with the holy. This is a spiritual practice we can cultivate; as we become conscious, gradually we learn to think more like God. As Paul exhorts us in Romans 12:2: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.”
It is a delicate balance to prize the gift of human nature and yet allow God’s life to grow in us and uproot everything that is not of God. Perhaps this is best summed up in the adage, “God loves us just the way we are – and far too much to leave us that way.”
© 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.
9-11-24 - Suffering
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Does God want us to suffer? There is a strand in the Christian tradition that looks at the suffering Jesus underwent – which he predicted – and suggests that it is in suffering that we draw closest to our Lord. This is not how Peter saw things: Then Jesus began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.
Just before this, Peter has identified Jesus as the Messiah, the Anointed One of God long foretold, who would come to redeem the people of Israel – redeem, as in buy back a pawned item so it can be restored to its true purpose. It was assumed that the Messiah would bring to an end the suffering and humiliation of God’s chosen people. What good is a Messiah who’s going to suffer and die? Jesus is firm: But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
Does Jesus, invoking Satan, see in Peter’s words a temptation, a temptation to veer from the mission he is living out, a temptation to doubt his discernment of what is ahead for him? In Jesus’ case, suffering was part of his mission; redeeming humanity would involve a humiliating and horrible death.
That is not necessarily true for us. The ways in which God might invite us to make God-Life known in the world may not include suffering in any obvious way. We may be called to write or feed or proclaim or organize and never be persecuted for our faith. But there will be pain, if we’re open to letting our hearts be broken by God’s love for this world. In that sense, every mission involves suffering.
God does not inflict suffering upon us, though our God of free will does allow it to happen. Our God who is Love will always be with us in it, and our God who is Life can bring transformation through it. Sometimes I wonder how that message falls on the ears of those in the throes of pain and suffering. Does it help to hear that God is with us in our suffering, even as God often allows it to unfold in our lives, and that God can work redemption through it? I may wonder, but every time I ask a person whom I visit in a pastoral capacity if they feel the presence of God with them, the answer is usually an unequivocal yes.
It is through the presence of Christ with us that we gain the Life that overcomes death, the Life we can share with others, no matter what our condition. God does not visit suffering upon us so we can draw near to Christ. Yet I believe with all my heart that Christ draws near to us as we suffer, and helps break us open so new life can emerge from the dark earth.
© 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.
Does God want us to suffer? There is a strand in the Christian tradition that looks at the suffering Jesus underwent – which he predicted – and suggests that it is in suffering that we draw closest to our Lord. This is not how Peter saw things: Then Jesus began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.
Just before this, Peter has identified Jesus as the Messiah, the Anointed One of God long foretold, who would come to redeem the people of Israel – redeem, as in buy back a pawned item so it can be restored to its true purpose. It was assumed that the Messiah would bring to an end the suffering and humiliation of God’s chosen people. What good is a Messiah who’s going to suffer and die? Jesus is firm: But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
Does Jesus, invoking Satan, see in Peter’s words a temptation, a temptation to veer from the mission he is living out, a temptation to doubt his discernment of what is ahead for him? In Jesus’ case, suffering was part of his mission; redeeming humanity would involve a humiliating and horrible death.
That is not necessarily true for us. The ways in which God might invite us to make God-Life known in the world may not include suffering in any obvious way. We may be called to write or feed or proclaim or organize and never be persecuted for our faith. But there will be pain, if we’re open to letting our hearts be broken by God’s love for this world. In that sense, every mission involves suffering.
God does not inflict suffering upon us, though our God of free will does allow it to happen. Our God who is Love will always be with us in it, and our God who is Life can bring transformation through it. Sometimes I wonder how that message falls on the ears of those in the throes of pain and suffering. Does it help to hear that God is with us in our suffering, even as God often allows it to unfold in our lives, and that God can work redemption through it? I may wonder, but every time I ask a person whom I visit in a pastoral capacity if they feel the presence of God with them, the answer is usually an unequivocal yes.
It is through the presence of Christ with us that we gain the Life that overcomes death, the Life we can share with others, no matter what our condition. God does not visit suffering upon us so we can draw near to Christ. Yet I believe with all my heart that Christ draws near to us as we suffer, and helps break us open so new life can emerge from the dark earth.
© 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.
9-10-24 - The One and Only
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
A healthy sense of self-worth does not rest on what other people think of us. Jesus did not act or speak like he cared what other people said about him. Yet even a secure public figure will check his polls every now and then. So we find Jesus asking his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?”
They answer readily; someone as powerful and unusual as Jesus would surely generate debate, even an assumption that he carried the spirit of a luminary from the distant or recent past: And they answered him, ‘John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.’
This is like entertainment writers who compare up and coming stars to those of old. “She’s the new Meryl Streep,” He’s the new Springsteen,” as though the only way to apprehend someone is to categorize them in relation to someone else. Jesus was frequently asked if he was John the Baptist returned to life. To ask that question was to miss the reality of the man standing right in front of them. Jesus thought his closer followers might have a different perspective. He asked, ‘But who do you say that I am?’
How do you answer that question? It can be as hard for us to see Jesus for who he intrinsically is, apart from what we’ve heard about him through church, history, familial and cultural assumptions, as it was for people in his day to see him apart from the great prophets of old and their own expectations in a time of national powerlessness. The only way we can truly answer that question is to seek to know Jesus as he is revealed in the Gospels, as we see his power at work through his church, and as we experience him personally in prayer.
Which also means that, if we’re active in study, action and prayer, our answer will evolve. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and for ever (Hebrews 13:8) – but our discernment of who he is not fixed, not until that day when we see no longer “through a glass, dimly,” (I Corinthians 13) but face to face. In the meantime, we can read through the gospels for clues about who this Jesus guy is. We can pray to be aware of him in worship and in the ministries of those who gather around his Word and Life. And we can invite him to make himself known to us in our listening prayer times, and seek actual conversation with him in our imaginations, as the Holy Spirit leads us.
Peter's answer reflected Israel’s history, the promise of future redemption, and the knowledge of Jesus Peter gained in relationship with him: Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” In naming him as the promised One of God, Peter also claimed Jesus as one-of-kind, not the “new” anyone, but new creation. So we too, made in the image of God as unique persons, can get to know Jesus, the Lord who was, and is and is to come - and so discover the new creations we are in Him.
© 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.
A healthy sense of self-worth does not rest on what other people think of us. Jesus did not act or speak like he cared what other people said about him. Yet even a secure public figure will check his polls every now and then. So we find Jesus asking his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?”
They answer readily; someone as powerful and unusual as Jesus would surely generate debate, even an assumption that he carried the spirit of a luminary from the distant or recent past: And they answered him, ‘John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.’
This is like entertainment writers who compare up and coming stars to those of old. “She’s the new Meryl Streep,” He’s the new Springsteen,” as though the only way to apprehend someone is to categorize them in relation to someone else. Jesus was frequently asked if he was John the Baptist returned to life. To ask that question was to miss the reality of the man standing right in front of them. Jesus thought his closer followers might have a different perspective. He asked, ‘But who do you say that I am?’
How do you answer that question? It can be as hard for us to see Jesus for who he intrinsically is, apart from what we’ve heard about him through church, history, familial and cultural assumptions, as it was for people in his day to see him apart from the great prophets of old and their own expectations in a time of national powerlessness. The only way we can truly answer that question is to seek to know Jesus as he is revealed in the Gospels, as we see his power at work through his church, and as we experience him personally in prayer.
Which also means that, if we’re active in study, action and prayer, our answer will evolve. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and for ever (Hebrews 13:8) – but our discernment of who he is not fixed, not until that day when we see no longer “through a glass, dimly,” (I Corinthians 13) but face to face. In the meantime, we can read through the gospels for clues about who this Jesus guy is. We can pray to be aware of him in worship and in the ministries of those who gather around his Word and Life. And we can invite him to make himself known to us in our listening prayer times, and seek actual conversation with him in our imaginations, as the Holy Spirit leads us.
Peter's answer reflected Israel’s history, the promise of future redemption, and the knowledge of Jesus Peter gained in relationship with him: Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” In naming him as the promised One of God, Peter also claimed Jesus as one-of-kind, not the “new” anyone, but new creation. So we too, made in the image of God as unique persons, can get to know Jesus, the Lord who was, and is and is to come - and so discover the new creations we are in Him.
© 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.
9-9-24 - Back To the Real World?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
If you’re having some trouble transitioning into the fall schedule from the slower rhythms of summer, Sunday’s gospel reading should hurry the process along. Jesus tells his followers that they have signed on for tough duty: He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?”
I don’t know if summertime is akin to “gaining the whole world,” but I enjoy it as a time of lower responsibility, slower engagement with tasks and intentions, loosening up on self-denial. Maybe you’re one of those marvelous saints who went on an incredible mission trip this summer, but I got so good at living the good life at the Lake and on the Creek, I may not remember where I left my cross to take it up again.
Is that what the “program year” is about, taking up our cross? In some measure, yes. We dial down the lazy, and quicken the pace of our days. We reengage the world more fully. We recommit ourselves to discerning what the Holy Spirit is up to around us, and join in as we are led to participate in the mission of God to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness in Christ.
None of that may involve putting our physical lives at risk, but it does entail putting God’s work and the world's needs ahead of our own comfort - while maintaining some healthy balance. I am recommitting myself to a more regular morning prayer and contemplation time. We might all find it a blessing to spend some time in the presence of God and ask where we’re being directed to share our energies and gifts and resources this season. Any ideas percolating in you?
Even as we look ahead, we are still called to live in the moment, only perhaps to indwell it more fully. We let our lives be filled with the Spirit’s energy and live for the sake of the gospel rather than for ourselves. We dwell in the Realm of God – which is the most real world there can possibly be.
© 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.
If you’re having some trouble transitioning into the fall schedule from the slower rhythms of summer, Sunday’s gospel reading should hurry the process along. Jesus tells his followers that they have signed on for tough duty: He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?”
I don’t know if summertime is akin to “gaining the whole world,” but I enjoy it as a time of lower responsibility, slower engagement with tasks and intentions, loosening up on self-denial. Maybe you’re one of those marvelous saints who went on an incredible mission trip this summer, but I got so good at living the good life at the Lake and on the Creek, I may not remember where I left my cross to take it up again.
Is that what the “program year” is about, taking up our cross? In some measure, yes. We dial down the lazy, and quicken the pace of our days. We reengage the world more fully. We recommit ourselves to discerning what the Holy Spirit is up to around us, and join in as we are led to participate in the mission of God to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness in Christ.
None of that may involve putting our physical lives at risk, but it does entail putting God’s work and the world's needs ahead of our own comfort - while maintaining some healthy balance. I am recommitting myself to a more regular morning prayer and contemplation time. We might all find it a blessing to spend some time in the presence of God and ask where we’re being directed to share our energies and gifts and resources this season. Any ideas percolating in you?
Even as we look ahead, we are still called to live in the moment, only perhaps to indwell it more fully. We let our lives be filled with the Spirit’s energy and live for the sake of the gospel rather than for ourselves. We dwell in the Realm of God – which is the most real world there can possibly be.
© 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.
9-6-24 - Healing Our Earth
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This month my parishes are having a worship series on “Celebrating Creation,” following the “Season for Creation”resources developed for worship by the Episcopal church. How might we explore this story of how Jesus healed a man who could neither hear nor speak clearly through that lens?
First we have to discern – are we the man, who cannot hear and or make himself understood? We might add blindness to the list of ailments, if we’re talking about 21st century Western folk – for the evidence of damage is all around us, yet we seem not to see what’s right in front of us. We seem not to hear the cries of the poor upon whom the effects of climate change fall disproportionately, or the wildlife endangered, maimed and killed through our self-serving practices. (Straws! Plastic bags! Let’s give them up, people!) We cannot make ourselves understood to our fellow citizens who persist in destructive practices, refusing any change in lifestyle, any “inconvenience” to ensure a habitable planet for their grandchildren. If we’re the ones in need of healing, are we willing to let Jesus change our hearts?
Or, how does it alter our understanding of this story if we put the planet and its ecosystems in the place of the man? How might we stand in for Jesus, offering healing of waters and skies, forests and rivers, plants and animals? We see him draw near – very near. We see him use his own resources, and also use the earth, making a mud with his saliva. This offers us a model for environmental healing… to give of ourselves in partnership with the natural healing processes already operative in the natural.
I am reading a book on “Biomimicry,” the intentional imitation of processes we find in nature. This discipline is slowly revolutionizing the way people approach design, manufacturing, financial structures – there is no limit to how much we can learn from the organisms that have figured out how to survive, adapt and thrive. These organisms also know how to bring healing – to scorched earth, to denuded forests – but the pace of climate change is pushing many species past even their tremendous capacities. They need our help. And we need theirs. (Listen to this Krista Tippett "On Being" interview with biomimicry practitioners and get your mind blown! And this one…)
The earth is crying out to us. Can we bring the faith we’ve been given, join it to the perfect faith of Jesus, and begin to bring healing? It is likely we cannot heal our planet without inviting Jesus’ healing for ourselves. Let us pray, let us imagine, let us imitate, let us get to work.
© 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 month my parishes are having a worship series on “Celebrating Creation,” following the “Season for Creation”resources developed for worship by the Episcopal church. How might we explore this story of how Jesus healed a man who could neither hear nor speak clearly through that lens?
First we have to discern – are we the man, who cannot hear and or make himself understood? We might add blindness to the list of ailments, if we’re talking about 21st century Western folk – for the evidence of damage is all around us, yet we seem not to see what’s right in front of us. We seem not to hear the cries of the poor upon whom the effects of climate change fall disproportionately, or the wildlife endangered, maimed and killed through our self-serving practices. (Straws! Plastic bags! Let’s give them up, people!) We cannot make ourselves understood to our fellow citizens who persist in destructive practices, refusing any change in lifestyle, any “inconvenience” to ensure a habitable planet for their grandchildren. If we’re the ones in need of healing, are we willing to let Jesus change our hearts?
Or, how does it alter our understanding of this story if we put the planet and its ecosystems in the place of the man? How might we stand in for Jesus, offering healing of waters and skies, forests and rivers, plants and animals? We see him draw near – very near. We see him use his own resources, and also use the earth, making a mud with his saliva. This offers us a model for environmental healing… to give of ourselves in partnership with the natural healing processes already operative in the natural.
I am reading a book on “Biomimicry,” the intentional imitation of processes we find in nature. This discipline is slowly revolutionizing the way people approach design, manufacturing, financial structures – there is no limit to how much we can learn from the organisms that have figured out how to survive, adapt and thrive. These organisms also know how to bring healing – to scorched earth, to denuded forests – but the pace of climate change is pushing many species past even their tremendous capacities. They need our help. And we need theirs. (Listen to this Krista Tippett "On Being" interview with biomimicry practitioners and get your mind blown! And this one…)
The earth is crying out to us. Can we bring the faith we’ve been given, join it to the perfect faith of Jesus, and begin to bring healing? It is likely we cannot heal our planet without inviting Jesus’ healing for ourselves. Let us pray, let us imagine, let us imitate, let us get to work.
© 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.
9-5-24 - A Different Healing
You can listen to this reflection here.
This week’s gospel passage contains two great healing stories – the first about the Syro-Phoenician woman and her daughter, and a second about Jesus healing a man who is both deaf and mute: They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.
This healing is unique. First, Jesus healed the man in private. He doesn’t usually do that; in fact, some quite intimate healings happen in full view of a crowd. Perhaps the reason Jesus takes the man aside is related to the other distinctive feature of this healing – Jesus is unusually hands-on, even invasive. Jesus’ spiritual power is so great he can command a healing from afar. He need only speak healing and people are made whole. Why does he put his fingers in this man’s ears and touch his tongue with his own spittle before speaking a word of healing?
We can’t know the answer to that question, but it invites us to imagine. There is something powerful about Jesus using his physical life to bring healing to another – God does not eschew the material, fleshly world, but uses it for the purpose of redemption. That story is writ large in Jesus’ incarnation, of course, but we find it told in small ways throughout the gospels. That the God come in human flesh should use his bodily existence to reveal the spiritual power of God – how amazing is that?!
And this God-Man coming so close to someone who is suffering, willing to put his fingers in another’s ears, and to touch his tongue with his own spit – that shows a God who wants to come close to us, who does not shy away from our infirmities but gives of himself to heal us. What wounds are you trying to hide from God, afraid he doesn’t want to know about them, or can't help? Can we invite Jesus that close?
There is yet another unique element to this healing – Jesus’ looking up to heaven and sighing, and then speaking the command to the man’s ears and voice: “Be opened.” A similar sequence is reported when Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead – maybe the sighs bespeak an inner effort to transmit this greater reality of God-Life into what we think of as reality. And he speaks the healing; he pronounces it into being, the way God “spoke” the world into being – “in the beginning was the Word.”
We too are invited to speak into being God’s transforming word. That is prayer, the prayer of faith that takes God up on God’s promises of spiritual authority over the material world. Paul writes in Romans 4:17 about, “the God who gives life to the dead and calls into being things that were not.” Calling into being things that are not is what we are about. We can’t dictate God’s action, but we can direct God’s power and love into people and situations in need of transformation, as Jesus did with that deaf and mute man.
Prayer is bringing spiritual power to bear on physical situations. We can do that, right?
© 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’s gospel passage contains two great healing stories – the first about the Syro-Phoenician woman and her daughter, and a second about Jesus healing a man who is both deaf and mute: They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.
This healing is unique. First, Jesus healed the man in private. He doesn’t usually do that; in fact, some quite intimate healings happen in full view of a crowd. Perhaps the reason Jesus takes the man aside is related to the other distinctive feature of this healing – Jesus is unusually hands-on, even invasive. Jesus’ spiritual power is so great he can command a healing from afar. He need only speak healing and people are made whole. Why does he put his fingers in this man’s ears and touch his tongue with his own spittle before speaking a word of healing?
We can’t know the answer to that question, but it invites us to imagine. There is something powerful about Jesus using his physical life to bring healing to another – God does not eschew the material, fleshly world, but uses it for the purpose of redemption. That story is writ large in Jesus’ incarnation, of course, but we find it told in small ways throughout the gospels. That the God come in human flesh should use his bodily existence to reveal the spiritual power of God – how amazing is that?!
And this God-Man coming so close to someone who is suffering, willing to put his fingers in another’s ears, and to touch his tongue with his own spit – that shows a God who wants to come close to us, who does not shy away from our infirmities but gives of himself to heal us. What wounds are you trying to hide from God, afraid he doesn’t want to know about them, or can't help? Can we invite Jesus that close?
There is yet another unique element to this healing – Jesus’ looking up to heaven and sighing, and then speaking the command to the man’s ears and voice: “Be opened.” A similar sequence is reported when Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead – maybe the sighs bespeak an inner effort to transmit this greater reality of God-Life into what we think of as reality. And he speaks the healing; he pronounces it into being, the way God “spoke” the world into being – “in the beginning was the Word.”
We too are invited to speak into being God’s transforming word. That is prayer, the prayer of faith that takes God up on God’s promises of spiritual authority over the material world. Paul writes in Romans 4:17 about, “the God who gives life to the dead and calls into being things that were not.” Calling into being things that are not is what we are about. We can’t dictate God’s action, but we can direct God’s power and love into people and situations in need of transformation, as Jesus did with that deaf and mute man.
Prayer is bringing spiritual power to bear on physical situations. We can do that, right?
© 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.
9-4-24 - Who's Under Your Table?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
There are few expressions of humility in the Bible more beautiful than the response of the Gentile mother when Jesus denies her request that he heal her daughter, saying, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
Jesus’ words sound harsh and unfeeling, no matter how we try to interpret them. In Matthew's version of this story Jesus gives a fuller reason for not helping her: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” By these lights, he is just staying “on mission.” His own people and target audience are “the children,” and outsiders are “dogs.”
Where is the Jesus who heals a Roman centurion’s servant, who frees a man in Gentile territory of a legion of demons, who stays for two days among Samaritans and holds up those disdained relatives of the Jews – outsiders, if not Gentiles – as models of compassionate service?
We’ll see him again shortly, when he fully digests this woman’s breathtakingly faithful reply: “Even the dogs under the table eat crumbs that fall from the table.” She knows that his “crumbs” hold power enough to heal her little girl, and she doesn’t care where she gets them or for whom they were intended. Her faith gets through to him, and he pronounces her daughter free and healed.
Who do we consider the “children,” and who do we regard as “dogs under the table?” Who is under your table? Some people who’ve never belonged to a church, or have heard the gospel only in its cultural iterations, might find it much easier than we to trust God, even if they use different language and rituals. Many of our churches offer feasts that precious few partake in, while at our margins there are many who would love to receive our “crumbs” of true faith: a loving community, the power of God’s Spirit, access to God in Christ. How do we make the invitation to those people who look and act so different from us?
My friend Mary Lynn once described her experience of eucharist beautifully: “Oh, you give us this little piece of bread, and we give it away all week, and then next Sunday we come back for more.” As we truly learn to understand the feast we receive through church, we can more intentionally offer our “crumbs” all over the place until all are fed.
© 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 few expressions of humility in the Bible more beautiful than the response of the Gentile mother when Jesus denies her request that he heal her daughter, saying, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
Jesus’ words sound harsh and unfeeling, no matter how we try to interpret them. In Matthew's version of this story Jesus gives a fuller reason for not helping her: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” By these lights, he is just staying “on mission.” His own people and target audience are “the children,” and outsiders are “dogs.”
Where is the Jesus who heals a Roman centurion’s servant, who frees a man in Gentile territory of a legion of demons, who stays for two days among Samaritans and holds up those disdained relatives of the Jews – outsiders, if not Gentiles – as models of compassionate service?
We’ll see him again shortly, when he fully digests this woman’s breathtakingly faithful reply: “Even the dogs under the table eat crumbs that fall from the table.” She knows that his “crumbs” hold power enough to heal her little girl, and she doesn’t care where she gets them or for whom they were intended. Her faith gets through to him, and he pronounces her daughter free and healed.
Who do we consider the “children,” and who do we regard as “dogs under the table?” Who is under your table? Some people who’ve never belonged to a church, or have heard the gospel only in its cultural iterations, might find it much easier than we to trust God, even if they use different language and rituals. Many of our churches offer feasts that precious few partake in, while at our margins there are many who would love to receive our “crumbs” of true faith: a loving community, the power of God’s Spirit, access to God in Christ. How do we make the invitation to those people who look and act so different from us?
My friend Mary Lynn once described her experience of eucharist beautifully: “Oh, you give us this little piece of bread, and we give it away all week, and then next Sunday we come back for more.” As we truly learn to understand the feast we receive through church, we can more intentionally offer our “crumbs” all over the place until all are fed.
© 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.
9-3-24 - Cranky Jesus?
You can listen to this reflection here.
Those who doubt the full humanity of Christ might look no further than the 7th chapter of Mark's gospel. In the story we have this week, we meet a Jesus who appears out of sorts, brusque to the point of rudeness - and seemingly able to change his mind.
Jesus has come to this house to get away from the crowds and incessant need for his attention and power. He needs a break. And this woman, a Gentile yet, finds him and has the temerity to intrude upon his solitude, demanding spiritual deliverance for her daughter. At first he dismisses her, curtly saying she is outside his assigned mission. Then he likens her to a dog seeking scraps: She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
As she persists, refusing to take offense, he detects something beneath the annoyance she is causing. He discerns a woman of real faith who will not take "no" for an answer because she knows with all her heart that Jesus can heal her little girl. This is the kind of faith he has hoped to see in his own Jewish community – but familiarity can cloud faith vision. This Gentile woman has no such blinders. She sees clearly, and once Jesus' own blinders fall, he sees her truly too, and rewards her faith.
This story contains several invitations for us. One is to be persistent in prayer, with faith, even when it looks like God seems not to answer. Prayer is primarily about deepening our relationship with God, not "getting what we need," so we can pester and cajole and ask nicely and cry our need. Jesus hears us, and adds his perfect faith to ours, as we learn to trust his perfect will and timing.
Another invitation is to keep our senses tuned to discern faith in people outside the community of faith as we recognize it. Those of us who are longtime churchgoers and deeply steeped in our religious tradition don’t always see that the woman with the angel posters or the multiply "tatted" guy asking for money may have a clearer, less complicated, more powerful faith than we do. As we recognize that, we can make it our mission to invite such folks to draw nearer the community, nearer to Christ – and maybe find that it is they who make Christ known to 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.
Those who doubt the full humanity of Christ might look no further than the 7th chapter of Mark's gospel. In the story we have this week, we meet a Jesus who appears out of sorts, brusque to the point of rudeness - and seemingly able to change his mind.
Jesus has come to this house to get away from the crowds and incessant need for his attention and power. He needs a break. And this woman, a Gentile yet, finds him and has the temerity to intrude upon his solitude, demanding spiritual deliverance for her daughter. At first he dismisses her, curtly saying she is outside his assigned mission. Then he likens her to a dog seeking scraps: She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
As she persists, refusing to take offense, he detects something beneath the annoyance she is causing. He discerns a woman of real faith who will not take "no" for an answer because she knows with all her heart that Jesus can heal her little girl. This is the kind of faith he has hoped to see in his own Jewish community – but familiarity can cloud faith vision. This Gentile woman has no such blinders. She sees clearly, and once Jesus' own blinders fall, he sees her truly too, and rewards her faith.
This story contains several invitations for us. One is to be persistent in prayer, with faith, even when it looks like God seems not to answer. Prayer is primarily about deepening our relationship with God, not "getting what we need," so we can pester and cajole and ask nicely and cry our need. Jesus hears us, and adds his perfect faith to ours, as we learn to trust his perfect will and timing.
Another invitation is to keep our senses tuned to discern faith in people outside the community of faith as we recognize it. Those of us who are longtime churchgoers and deeply steeped in our religious tradition don’t always see that the woman with the angel posters or the multiply "tatted" guy asking for money may have a clearer, less complicated, more powerful faith than we do. As we recognize that, we can make it our mission to invite such folks to draw nearer the community, nearer to Christ – and maybe find that it is they who make Christ known to 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.
9-2-24 - Everybody Needs a Break
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I had a lovely but slightly dull vacation this year. No dramatic destinations, no exciting excursions, just time at the cottage on a beautiful lake in Michigan. I didn’t produce anything, didn’t even think any particularly deep thoughts or have breakthrough insights that would ignite my congregations for mission. But every time I inwardly fussed about that, I’d remind myself, “Fields need to go fallow for a time. Give your imagination a break – it’ll come back stronger.” I’d been working really hard; it was time to take a break.
If I needed a vacation, imagine how much Jesus needed some rest time! He had been preaching and healing and traveling and disputing and training, never in the same spot for more than a day, it seems. And now he arrives at the shore, and he just wants some time apart. It’s his Garbo moment, “I vant to be alone!” But it’s not to be. From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet.
It’s great to read that Jesus sought these times to rest and recharge, for it reminds us that he was human, and it gives us permission to recognize our limits as well. And, of course, he was also the God who ordained one day of rest in every seven; if we would only live into that promise, we might not even need vacations.
It’s also helpful to learn that Jesus was interrupted at his rest. The demands of the world do not subside just because we take some time out. The woman who came and found him had business she felt was much more pressing than his need to rest. And, though his initial response appears surly, in the end he agrees with her: her need, and her faith, were worthy of his attention.
When we’re on vacation we put down our regular work, our regular tasks, sometimes even our regular landscape, and seek to be renewed in the space that opens up. But we do not cease to be servants of the Living God, engaged in God’s mission of restoration and wholeness. We may find ourselves presented with needs in the people around us. We may fall into some interior, spiritual work we’ve neglected in our busyness, or find ourselves dealing with issues in our families or relationships. We may be surprised at how God wants to work through us in our time away. If the mission of God should find us despite our best intentions to rest, we have to trust that God will give us the R&R we need in some other way.
© 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 had a lovely but slightly dull vacation this year. No dramatic destinations, no exciting excursions, just time at the cottage on a beautiful lake in Michigan. I didn’t produce anything, didn’t even think any particularly deep thoughts or have breakthrough insights that would ignite my congregations for mission. But every time I inwardly fussed about that, I’d remind myself, “Fields need to go fallow for a time. Give your imagination a break – it’ll come back stronger.” I’d been working really hard; it was time to take a break.
If I needed a vacation, imagine how much Jesus needed some rest time! He had been preaching and healing and traveling and disputing and training, never in the same spot for more than a day, it seems. And now he arrives at the shore, and he just wants some time apart. It’s his Garbo moment, “I vant to be alone!” But it’s not to be. From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet.
It’s great to read that Jesus sought these times to rest and recharge, for it reminds us that he was human, and it gives us permission to recognize our limits as well. And, of course, he was also the God who ordained one day of rest in every seven; if we would only live into that promise, we might not even need vacations.
It’s also helpful to learn that Jesus was interrupted at his rest. The demands of the world do not subside just because we take some time out. The woman who came and found him had business she felt was much more pressing than his need to rest. And, though his initial response appears surly, in the end he agrees with her: her need, and her faith, were worthy of his attention.
When we’re on vacation we put down our regular work, our regular tasks, sometimes even our regular landscape, and seek to be renewed in the space that opens up. But we do not cease to be servants of the Living God, engaged in God’s mission of restoration and wholeness. We may find ourselves presented with needs in the people around us. We may fall into some interior, spiritual work we’ve neglected in our busyness, or find ourselves dealing with issues in our families or relationships. We may be surprised at how God wants to work through us in our time away. If the mission of God should find us despite our best intentions to rest, we have to trust that God will give us the R&R we need in some other way.
© 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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