You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
It’s natural to want to see a return on investment, to see a pay-off when we’ve worked hard at something. Non-profits have learned to communicate the often intangible benefits their work provides donors, volunteers and even taxpayers, and churches have been forced onto that “data driven” bandwagon too. I spend a lot of my time preparing marketing materials in numerous media, spreading the message that being a part of life at Christ Church will help people feel better or more connected to God, others and themselves.
I even find myself “marketing” the benefits of following Jesus, reminding people how much joy and peace and love there is to be found in Christ in this life, not only the next. I have a sermon series on the promises of God – Peace, Power, Presence, Purpose (not Prosperity). Lots of pay-off!
James and John wanted to know there was a pay-off. But were they listening to Jesus? He has just spoken again about the adversity he was soon to face in Jerusalem – arrest, trial, condemnation, crucifixion, and rising again. Focused on their status when Jesus was in “his glory,” they seem to have forgotten his reminders of persecution. To their request that they have “dibs” on the seats next to him, Jesus said to them, "You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?"
They replied “We are able.” Did they know what they were saying? For that matter, do we? This expression Jesus used meant, “Can you share my lot?” Jesus was soon to hold a cup of wine and say to his disciples, “This is my blood. Each time you drink this cup, remember me.” And what did he mean by baptism? A ritual of cleansing, of complete transformation? Early on, the church saw in the ritual of baptism a symbolic joining with Christ in his death as well as in resurrection. Were James and John up for all that?
Are we up for all that? Or do we turn away when life gets hard and the rewards of ministry seem hard to discern, when church attendance and giving don’t seem to go up, and the homeless numbers don’t seem to decline, and it seems harder and harder to connect people to the life we find in the Gospels. How do we live into the joy of the Lord when we don’t see it? Ah, that’s why it’s called faith!
The Life of God, as Jesus revealed it, is not the realm of the big pay-off. It is the life of sacrificial, other-directed, giving without limits that Jesus lived and taught, and millions have done after him. When we fail to communicate it that way, we don’t help people to cultivate that spirit of giving. We don’t foster maturity in the Spirit. The Gospel was, and is, counter-cultural.
Yes, and God does not expect us to give out of an empty vessel. The cup we drink every Sunday is called the cup of salvation; it is the water of life, turned to wine through the power of Jesus’ love. Our invitation is to take in that life, again and again, and pour it out completely, again and again, for the sake of the world. The world may not appreciate the gift, but as we see good fruit of changed lives and hearts turned God-ward, we can give thanks. That’s the only pay-off we 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.
10-14-24 - Best Seats In the House
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I often worry about where I’m going to sit. Back when I actually went to the movies, I’d be anxious about getting a seat that was not behind a tall person. At concerts, I want a seat with an unobstructed view and close enough to catch the band’s energy. If I’m going to a wedding or gala, I hope I’ll be seated with people I know and not in the “outer darkness” at the edges of the room. But it never occurred to me to worry about where I’ll be sitting in the afterlife: James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” And he said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.”
Now, their request may not have been about seating so much as jockeying for leadership positions, and they might not have been talking about heaven. They regarded Jesus as the Messiah who would liberate the people from oppression. By “In your glory” they may have meant after Jesus had won victory over their enemies and his group was in charge. Whatever they meant, it is clear they had their sights set on the future.
Jesus had more than a few things to say about people who try to get the best seats, whether at dinner parties or in glory. He usually reiterated the “those who want to be first will be last” principle of God’s kingdom and recommended that we select the least desirable seats, with the least desirable company. If we want to sit with him, that’s where we will find him.
We all want to know we’re going to be okay, secure, set; it’s human nature to want that. Yet Jesus invites us beyond our human nature to live into the divine life we have already received as his brothers and sisters. So what if, instead of seeking the better seats, we searched out the least desirable ones? I’ve been seated at “head tables” and it’s usually dull. What if I were to embrace meeting strangers on the edges of the room, or let others have the closer seats in the concert hall? Once upon a time, the back of the bus was where the marginalized were forced to sit – how about joining them there?
Wherever we sit, whether humble or exalted, we can be sure that we are sitting next to Jesus, on one side or another of the one who promised he would always be with us. There ain’t a bad seat in his house.
© 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 often worry about where I’m going to sit. Back when I actually went to the movies, I’d be anxious about getting a seat that was not behind a tall person. At concerts, I want a seat with an unobstructed view and close enough to catch the band’s energy. If I’m going to a wedding or gala, I hope I’ll be seated with people I know and not in the “outer darkness” at the edges of the room. But it never occurred to me to worry about where I’ll be sitting in the afterlife: James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” And he said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.”
Now, their request may not have been about seating so much as jockeying for leadership positions, and they might not have been talking about heaven. They regarded Jesus as the Messiah who would liberate the people from oppression. By “In your glory” they may have meant after Jesus had won victory over their enemies and his group was in charge. Whatever they meant, it is clear they had their sights set on the future.
Jesus had more than a few things to say about people who try to get the best seats, whether at dinner parties or in glory. He usually reiterated the “those who want to be first will be last” principle of God’s kingdom and recommended that we select the least desirable seats, with the least desirable company. If we want to sit with him, that’s where we will find him.
We all want to know we’re going to be okay, secure, set; it’s human nature to want that. Yet Jesus invites us beyond our human nature to live into the divine life we have already received as his brothers and sisters. So what if, instead of seeking the better seats, we searched out the least desirable ones? I’ve been seated at “head tables” and it’s usually dull. What if I were to embrace meeting strangers on the edges of the room, or let others have the closer seats in the concert hall? Once upon a time, the back of the bus was where the marginalized were forced to sit – how about joining them there?
Wherever we sit, whether humble or exalted, we can be sure that we are sitting next to Jesus, on one side or another of the one who promised he would always be with us. There ain’t a bad seat in his house.
© 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.
10-11-24 - Inheritance
You can listen to this reflection here.
Reading the gospel story set for this Sunday, I’m struck by a verb the man uses in his question to Jesus. He asks, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Inheritances, by definition, are received, not earned. One can work at being disinherited, but generally we inherit by virtue of being in relationship to one who leaves a legacy.
Jesus offers the man a relationship. He tells him how to disencumber himself of resources that he’s relying on and truly free himself, and then to come and enter into the relationship and receive the gifts of discipleship. The man is unable to accept, and goes away grieving.
The people who have already taken Jesus up on that offer are flabbergasted at the conclusion Jesus draws from this encounter, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” “Then who can be saved?,” they ask, suddenly anxious about their own positions. Peter reminds Jesus of all they have left behind to be with him – and how does Jesus respond? By telling them about the blessings they will receive now and the inheritance to come: Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”
Taking on God-Life has pay-offs as well as challenges in this life – and in the fullness of eternity we reap further blessings. Jesus tells us that the way to come into that fullness is to let go of our temporal sources of security and follow him. And if this seems impossible, as impossible as a camel squeezing through the eye of a needle (and no, there was no narrow gate in Jerusalem – Jesus is being hyperbolic to make a point) Jesus reminds us that it is indeed impossible for us, though not for God. This God who desires to spend eternity with us will draw us in as we allow ourselves to be tethered. We're the camels in this scenario!
Can we part with our fortunes more readily if we really trust the inheritance that will be ours when none of our things and bank accounts matter anymore? Paul tells us in Ephesians that legacy is already ours, present in the power of the Spirit working through us. The Spirit is the down-payment, and we can start spending right now.
And the thing about spending that capital? It makes us less attached to the kind in our bank accounts. The more Spirit-power we spend, the freer we get. That’s the legacy of relationship with Jesus, and it never ends.
© 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.
Reading the gospel story set for this Sunday, I’m struck by a verb the man uses in his question to Jesus. He asks, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Inheritances, by definition, are received, not earned. One can work at being disinherited, but generally we inherit by virtue of being in relationship to one who leaves a legacy.
Jesus offers the man a relationship. He tells him how to disencumber himself of resources that he’s relying on and truly free himself, and then to come and enter into the relationship and receive the gifts of discipleship. The man is unable to accept, and goes away grieving.
The people who have already taken Jesus up on that offer are flabbergasted at the conclusion Jesus draws from this encounter, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” “Then who can be saved?,” they ask, suddenly anxious about their own positions. Peter reminds Jesus of all they have left behind to be with him – and how does Jesus respond? By telling them about the blessings they will receive now and the inheritance to come: Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”
Taking on God-Life has pay-offs as well as challenges in this life – and in the fullness of eternity we reap further blessings. Jesus tells us that the way to come into that fullness is to let go of our temporal sources of security and follow him. And if this seems impossible, as impossible as a camel squeezing through the eye of a needle (and no, there was no narrow gate in Jerusalem – Jesus is being hyperbolic to make a point) Jesus reminds us that it is indeed impossible for us, though not for God. This God who desires to spend eternity with us will draw us in as we allow ourselves to be tethered. We're the camels in this scenario!
Can we part with our fortunes more readily if we really trust the inheritance that will be ours when none of our things and bank accounts matter anymore? Paul tells us in Ephesians that legacy is already ours, present in the power of the Spirit working through us. The Spirit is the down-payment, and we can start spending right now.
And the thing about spending that capital? It makes us less attached to the kind in our bank accounts. The more Spirit-power we spend, the freer we get. That’s the legacy of relationship with Jesus, and it never ends.
© 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.
10-10-24 - No Easy Way In
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Very little shocks us these days. Sex, violence, prejudice, outrageous discourse are all commonplace. But talk about money and how wealth is distributed? The temperature rises quickly.
It wasn’t so different in Jesus’ day. When Jesus told a man who came to him seeking spiritual advice that he should sell everything he owned, give the proceeds to the poor, and then become his disciple, he went away shocked. So were Jesus’ followers who watched this encounter unfold: Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
Were they shocked that he let such a promising recruit get away? Or that he would say such a thing about the wealthy? In that culture (as in ours…) prosperity was seen as a sign of God’s blessing and favor. How could it impede full participation in the life of God?
This gives us pause as well. Have we examined the ways in which our wealth and worldly security stand in the way of our putting all our trust in Christ’s grace and love (which Episcopalians promise to do in our baptismal vows…)? Often we respond to the discomfort we feel encountering these words of Jesus by trying to “give” our way to feeling okay. "Yeah, but, look at how much I give away..." That ain’t a bad thing… but it’s not what Jesus is talking about. I suspect his concern is what the accumulation does for and to us.
Thankfully, this greatly challenging passage ends with a reminder of grace: They were greatly astounded and said to one another, “Then who can be saved?” Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”
For God all things are possible. We experience that as we let go and trust God and the power of the Spirit working in, around and through us. Let’s start there, and see how Love might loosen our grip on our wealth.
© 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.
Very little shocks us these days. Sex, violence, prejudice, outrageous discourse are all commonplace. But talk about money and how wealth is distributed? The temperature rises quickly.
It wasn’t so different in Jesus’ day. When Jesus told a man who came to him seeking spiritual advice that he should sell everything he owned, give the proceeds to the poor, and then become his disciple, he went away shocked. So were Jesus’ followers who watched this encounter unfold: Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
Were they shocked that he let such a promising recruit get away? Or that he would say such a thing about the wealthy? In that culture (as in ours…) prosperity was seen as a sign of God’s blessing and favor. How could it impede full participation in the life of God?
This gives us pause as well. Have we examined the ways in which our wealth and worldly security stand in the way of our putting all our trust in Christ’s grace and love (which Episcopalians promise to do in our baptismal vows…)? Often we respond to the discomfort we feel encountering these words of Jesus by trying to “give” our way to feeling okay. "Yeah, but, look at how much I give away..." That ain’t a bad thing… but it’s not what Jesus is talking about. I suspect his concern is what the accumulation does for and to us.
Thankfully, this greatly challenging passage ends with a reminder of grace: They were greatly astounded and said to one another, “Then who can be saved?” Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”
For God all things are possible. We experience that as we let go and trust God and the power of the Spirit working in, around and through us. Let’s start there, and see how Love might loosen our grip on our wealth.
© 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.
10-9-24 - Give It All Away
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Very few people find their name taken into use as a verb, but Marie Kondo achieved that distinction after publishing her bestseller, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. I have yet to read the book, but know that one aspect of “Kondo-izing” is to go through the stuff you have accumulated – clothes, books, files, games, CDs, electronics, exercise equipment, what have you – and ask, “Does this bring me joy?” If the answer is no, gracefully toss it or help it find a new home. Asking, “Might I ever use this?” (my usual approach...) too often elicits a yes, and leaves us mired in our clutter.
I wonder if this is remotely what Jesus had in mind when he said to the man who came asking how he might inherit eternal life, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
Certainly Jesus's suggestion was not moderate. He instructed this man to render himself completely free of possessions – not just shedding but actually selling them and giving the money to the poor. Jesus invited him to become completely unencumbered, totally available to the winds of the Spirit to bless and work through him. Lest we think this impossible, remember that others have done it – St. Francis of Assisi, whose feast day we celebrated last Friday, was among the most notable, but many who belong to religious orders, or to denominations like the Mennonites, have done the same thing. Is there something about possessions that blocks the flow of God’s life in us?
Does Jesus ask the same of us? Or is this word given only to those who have great wealth and many possessions? That’s a risky interpretation; few of us self-describe as wealthy or think we have enough. But when we compare our standing to that of others, particularly most of the rest of the world (by a rough estimate, the poorest American is wealthier than 85% of the world’s population…), we start to see clearly just how much we have, and how much it may be standing in our way spiritually. It's not the wealth, it's where we put our security that saps our faith.
How do we start to divest ourselves? Can we do it incrementally, or must we tear off this Band-Aid all at once, as Jesus told the man in our story to do? He was unable to meet that challenge: When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.
I fear I might have gone with him. I’m not ready to tear off the Band-Aid. But I am working to reposition myself relative to my goods and wealth, and move myself to greater readiness. Part of the “rule of life” I crafted on a recent clergy retreat commits me to “Spend my wealth so that others can thrive,” an invitation to not always seek the lowest price but factor in the labor practices and environmental record of the seller. It's already made me more generous in my giving as well.
I can look at all the things I have too much of, and ask not, “Does this bring me joy?” but “Does God have a use for this?” I wonder where that will lead. I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure God has a use for me, and he needs me free. You too!
© 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.
Very few people find their name taken into use as a verb, but Marie Kondo achieved that distinction after publishing her bestseller, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. I have yet to read the book, but know that one aspect of “Kondo-izing” is to go through the stuff you have accumulated – clothes, books, files, games, CDs, electronics, exercise equipment, what have you – and ask, “Does this bring me joy?” If the answer is no, gracefully toss it or help it find a new home. Asking, “Might I ever use this?” (my usual approach...) too often elicits a yes, and leaves us mired in our clutter.
I wonder if this is remotely what Jesus had in mind when he said to the man who came asking how he might inherit eternal life, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
Certainly Jesus's suggestion was not moderate. He instructed this man to render himself completely free of possessions – not just shedding but actually selling them and giving the money to the poor. Jesus invited him to become completely unencumbered, totally available to the winds of the Spirit to bless and work through him. Lest we think this impossible, remember that others have done it – St. Francis of Assisi, whose feast day we celebrated last Friday, was among the most notable, but many who belong to religious orders, or to denominations like the Mennonites, have done the same thing. Is there something about possessions that blocks the flow of God’s life in us?
Does Jesus ask the same of us? Or is this word given only to those who have great wealth and many possessions? That’s a risky interpretation; few of us self-describe as wealthy or think we have enough. But when we compare our standing to that of others, particularly most of the rest of the world (by a rough estimate, the poorest American is wealthier than 85% of the world’s population…), we start to see clearly just how much we have, and how much it may be standing in our way spiritually. It's not the wealth, it's where we put our security that saps our faith.
How do we start to divest ourselves? Can we do it incrementally, or must we tear off this Band-Aid all at once, as Jesus told the man in our story to do? He was unable to meet that challenge: When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.
I fear I might have gone with him. I’m not ready to tear off the Band-Aid. But I am working to reposition myself relative to my goods and wealth, and move myself to greater readiness. Part of the “rule of life” I crafted on a recent clergy retreat commits me to “Spend my wealth so that others can thrive,” an invitation to not always seek the lowest price but factor in the labor practices and environmental record of the seller. It's already made me more generous in my giving as well.
I can look at all the things I have too much of, and ask not, “Does this bring me joy?” but “Does God have a use for this?” I wonder where that will lead. I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure God has a use for me, and he needs me free. You too!
© 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.
10-8-24 - The Look of Love
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I admit it. When I read this familiar passage, that Dionne Warwick song often starts up in my head. It’s the thing about “Jesus looked at him with love” that does it. Here we have a man who’s come to Jesus asking “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” After establishing that he knows and keeps the commandments perfectly, Jesus does this: Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, "You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me."
The man is shocked and dismayed by this message, as I suspect most of us would be. But it’s not given in a vacuum. It is a message grounded in great love, delivered to this man who is so close to God. If only the love had rung louder for him than the severity of the demand. But all the love in the world cannot redirect us if we cannot let it in. For whatever reason, that man’s allegiance to his wealth and goods, and maybe the security they afforded him, blocked out the love Jesus directed to him.
What keeps God’s great love from getting in and transforming our interior landscapes? Sometimes it is blocked by alternate messages we’ve received from the world, family, school, careers, or by a self-sufficiency which comes hardwired in members of deeply individualistic cultures. The lure of worldly success and short-term gain can also impede the flow of that love to us.
And what can help us to lower our barriers and let it in when we do? Sometimes it isn’t until we see how short that short-term gain really is that we’re ready to open ourselves up to something deeper, less immediately accessible. And sometimes it is because someone comes along and insists on loving us despite our barriers. Maybe Jesus invited that man to part from all his wealth and success and follow him so he could offer him transformative love in relationship. That’s the offer he makes all of us, too – the invitation to follow and draw near, love and be loved in a way that changes us.
It’s hard when we don’t have Jesus standing right in front of us, right? Or would that make any difference? Maybe Jesus has sent representatives to bear his love to us, and we’re missing the offer.
The gospels never tell us what became of this man. Did he reconsider Jesus’ offer and take him up on it at a later time? Did it change his relationship to his wealth and power? I imagine that could only happen if he were able to take in the love Jesus offered him in that look. Only that love can change our hearts. Only that love can change the world. It already has.
© 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 admit it. When I read this familiar passage, that Dionne Warwick song often starts up in my head. It’s the thing about “Jesus looked at him with love” that does it. Here we have a man who’s come to Jesus asking “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” After establishing that he knows and keeps the commandments perfectly, Jesus does this: Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, "You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me."
The man is shocked and dismayed by this message, as I suspect most of us would be. But it’s not given in a vacuum. It is a message grounded in great love, delivered to this man who is so close to God. If only the love had rung louder for him than the severity of the demand. But all the love in the world cannot redirect us if we cannot let it in. For whatever reason, that man’s allegiance to his wealth and goods, and maybe the security they afforded him, blocked out the love Jesus directed to him.
What keeps God’s great love from getting in and transforming our interior landscapes? Sometimes it is blocked by alternate messages we’ve received from the world, family, school, careers, or by a self-sufficiency which comes hardwired in members of deeply individualistic cultures. The lure of worldly success and short-term gain can also impede the flow of that love to us.
And what can help us to lower our barriers and let it in when we do? Sometimes it isn’t until we see how short that short-term gain really is that we’re ready to open ourselves up to something deeper, less immediately accessible. And sometimes it is because someone comes along and insists on loving us despite our barriers. Maybe Jesus invited that man to part from all his wealth and success and follow him so he could offer him transformative love in relationship. That’s the offer he makes all of us, too – the invitation to follow and draw near, love and be loved in a way that changes us.
It’s hard when we don’t have Jesus standing right in front of us, right? Or would that make any difference? Maybe Jesus has sent representatives to bear his love to us, and we’re missing the offer.
The gospels never tell us what became of this man. Did he reconsider Jesus’ offer and take him up on it at a later time? Did it change his relationship to his wealth and power? I imagine that could only happen if he were able to take in the love Jesus offered him in that look. Only that love can change our hearts. Only that love can change the world. It already has.
© 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.
10-7-24 - A Good Person
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When I was in elementary school, the SRA reading mastery system was in vogue. This is a set of reading materials which children can move through at their own pace. You read a selection, answer questions about it, and if you are correct, move on to the next story. It is a perfect system for over-achievers – a clear path to success and an almost unlimited number of steps to complete.
That’s what the man in this week’s gospel story reminds me of – someone working the spiritual equivalent of SRA. This fellow who ran up to Jesus was a good and serious man. Meticulous in following God’s commandments, humble and faithful, yet unsure of his ultimate future. So he comes to find Jesus: As Jesus was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Jesus asks why he calls him “good teacher,” saying that only God is truly good. He reminds him of the commandments – living according to God’s law is the best way to express your goodness. The man assures Jesus he has kept these all his life.
Wait - he has kept all the commandments his whole life? That’s amazing! What kind of person is this? A person who can say, “I’m a good person,” is both admirable and deeply saddening. Saddening, because those who locate their righteousness in their own ability to follow the rules often have more trouble acknowledging their need for God.
There are two approaches to holiness. One is the “SRA,” rung-climbing, rule-following, sometimes teeth-gritting way of “Give me the directions; I can do it myself.” The other is to be clear-eyed about our weaknesses as well as strengths, willing to be repentant and vulnerable, compassionate toward self and others. I would argue that the first approach leaves little room to grow, while the second allows infinite space for maturing in faith and love. There is nothing wrong with “good people.” It’s just that so often those who say “I’m a good person” say it defensively, explaining why they don’t have anything to do with God or religious life.
Do you know anyone in that category? I don't wish to sound judgmental – I just don’t think it works. It’s like saying, “I’ve arrived. There is nothing more I need.” Now, this man talking to Jesus wasn’t quite that way – he figured there must be something more he needed to do. And that’s the trap for the “good person,” thinking we can “do” our way into the Kingdom of heaven, when Jesus said it is a gift we need to receive. The last thing this man needed was another spiritual task to complete (though Jesus gave him a whopper...). He needed to submit himself to Love.
“I’m a good person,” is a conversation stopper. What do you say to that? “Good for you?” “No, you’re not?” The next time someone says that to me, I will smile and say, “Great. Do you know you are a loved person?” That’s what counts.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
When I was in elementary school, the SRA reading mastery system was in vogue. This is a set of reading materials which children can move through at their own pace. You read a selection, answer questions about it, and if you are correct, move on to the next story. It is a perfect system for over-achievers – a clear path to success and an almost unlimited number of steps to complete.
That’s what the man in this week’s gospel story reminds me of – someone working the spiritual equivalent of SRA. This fellow who ran up to Jesus was a good and serious man. Meticulous in following God’s commandments, humble and faithful, yet unsure of his ultimate future. So he comes to find Jesus: As Jesus was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Jesus asks why he calls him “good teacher,” saying that only God is truly good. He reminds him of the commandments – living according to God’s law is the best way to express your goodness. The man assures Jesus he has kept these all his life.
Wait - he has kept all the commandments his whole life? That’s amazing! What kind of person is this? A person who can say, “I’m a good person,” is both admirable and deeply saddening. Saddening, because those who locate their righteousness in their own ability to follow the rules often have more trouble acknowledging their need for God.
There are two approaches to holiness. One is the “SRA,” rung-climbing, rule-following, sometimes teeth-gritting way of “Give me the directions; I can do it myself.” The other is to be clear-eyed about our weaknesses as well as strengths, willing to be repentant and vulnerable, compassionate toward self and others. I would argue that the first approach leaves little room to grow, while the second allows infinite space for maturing in faith and love. There is nothing wrong with “good people.” It’s just that so often those who say “I’m a good person” say it defensively, explaining why they don’t have anything to do with God or religious life.
Do you know anyone in that category? I don't wish to sound judgmental – I just don’t think it works. It’s like saying, “I’ve arrived. There is nothing more I need.” Now, this man talking to Jesus wasn’t quite that way – he figured there must be something more he needed to do. And that’s the trap for the “good person,” thinking we can “do” our way into the Kingdom of heaven, when Jesus said it is a gift we need to receive. The last thing this man needed was another spiritual task to complete (though Jesus gave him a whopper...). He needed to submit himself to Love.
“I’m a good person,” is a conversation stopper. What do you say to that? “Good for you?” “No, you’re not?” The next time someone says that to me, I will smile and say, “Great. Do you know you are a loved person?” That’s what counts.
© 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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