You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When you spend some time with a passage from the bible, you often notice things you’ve missed in the past. Like, a donkey and a colt? Which was it?
When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.’”
This took place to fulfil what had been spoken through the prophet, saying “Tell the daughter of Zion, ‘Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’” The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.
He sat on them? That’s a stretch, to say the least! Now, we might chalk this up to Matthew’s penchant for tying every event he can to an Old Testament prophecy, no matter how far a reach (ba-dum-bum...) Mark and Luke each speak only of a colt, singular. Or maybe Matthew wants to be sure we get the connection to kingship, at the risk of absurdity. This ride of Jesus’ is not a mere victory lap – it is the entry of a king into his capital. But this is a king so humble, he not only rides upon a donkey, but even upon its foal.
We don’t always associate monarchy with humility, but they merge in so many stories of Jesus’ earthly life, from his birth in a rough-hewn shelter for animals, to his traveling company of fishermen, prostitutes and tax collectors. In fact, it’s not the humility that is hard to locate in this story – it’s the kingship. The royal gifts presented by the magi, the defensive measures of King Herod, and ultimately the crown of thorns – these disclose Jesus’ true nature, a monarch disguised as a commoner. That is why the epistle reading for Palm Sunday is always the hymn about Jesus found in Philippians 2: Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.
Unless we really think about where the Son of God, the second person of the Trinity, came from, it can be hard to grasp just how dramatic a lowering of status he endured, consenting to be bounded in a human body, in time and space, to be subject to the care and cruelties of limited human beings. (Matthew West and Vince Gill sing a song called Leaving Heaven, which flips the perspective… )
Today in prayer let’s try exalting Jesus, even imagining him in the courts of heaven or a throne room. And then let’s imagine ourselves there with him. What feelings come up in you? Do you want to praise him? Flee from that presence? Go nearer? Go with the feelings, pray into them.
The divine reality we celebrate is that the God who made everything loved us so much, he decided to come into our earthly reality to woo us, to court us, to come and sit with us. Maybe that other colt is meant for you, for me, to ride along next to him, to the cross and beyond, into Life.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
How to focus Water Daily the next two weeks? The Gospel appointed for Palm Sunday is the whole Passion story, and the following week it’s Easter. But who wants to explore the empty tomb while we’re still in Holy Week; that’s like peeking at the last page while you’re still in chapter 5. This week let's do the “other” Gospel story for next Sunday, the story of the palms for which the day is named.
Onward we go, to Jerusalem, where the week begins with Jesus entering in triumph, lauded by crowds, and goes horribly, horribly wrong, ending with his brutal execution. Jesus had been saying for some time that he must go to Jerusalem, where he will be arrested, tried and executed. Earlier, when people had warned him to avoid Jerusalem, because Herod wanted to kill him. Jesus responded, “Go and tell that fox, ‘Behold, I cast out demons and perform cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I finish my course. Nevertheless, I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following, for it cannot be that a prophet should perish away from Jerusalem.” – (Luke 13:32-33)
The people of Israel had a funny relationship to their prophets. They revered them – and frequently sought to have them killed when they didn’t like their messages. Those messages veered between, “You’d better, or else…” or “It’s too late; you’re in trouble...” Amidst those, however, another divine theme can be heard: “I love you. I want so much for us to be together. If you might only do what you promised, honor me, honor each other…” But the people never could. How could they relate to such a fearsome God?
Philip Yancey offers an analogy to the incarnation in his book The Jesus I Never Knew – he talks about how the fish in his fish tank regarded him with terror, even though he fed them faithfully, and kept their water clean and chemically balanced. His interventions seemed to them like destruction, and they fled to their hiding places whenever he came near. “To my fish I was a deity. I was too large for them, too incomprehensible.” He thought one day, “I would have to become a fish and ‘speak’ to them in a language they could understand.”
Only, it turned out that even when God came among us in a form like ours, speaking our language, those who were deeply invested in the old ways, who had gained power by fostering people’s fear of God, weren’t any more receptive. This prophet, too, must be silenced, eliminated.
How do you think you would have regarded Jesus in his earthly time? Would you have been drawn to his miracles and messages, or put off? Would you have gone to him for healing or forgiveness? Would you have been unsettled by the threat to good order he represented, or thrilled that at last deliverance from oppression might be at hand? With what aspect of Jesus do you most easily connect? Least?
Knowing how we most naturally connect to Jesus can help us strengthen the relationship, and balance it. And there’s no wrong answer, even if we identify with the Pharisees. We know Jesus forgave them too.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Why did Jesus restore Lazarus to life when he was so very, very dead? Was it “for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it,” as he indicated to his disciples a few days earlier? Was it because he was so moved by Mary’s weeping that he started to weep himself? "When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved." The King James Version renders that verse, “Jesus wept,” the shortest verse in the Bible.
Or was Jesus “greatly disturbed in spirit” because he knew what God was equipping him to do next, and it scared the daylights out of him? Certainly, he was in some turmoil – the most literal translation of what we get as “disturbed” suggests actual gut-wrenching. Jesus weeps – and then Jesus acts. Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, "Take away the stone."
It can be hard for us, from this side of Easter, not to hear the echo of the women on their way to Jesus’ tomb, wondering who will roll away that stone. Stones are to keep death in, and the living out. And here comes God to overturn all of that order… just as God had said long ago s/he would.
Reviving of the dead also occurs in our reading from the Hebrew Bible this Sunday – but it is only a vision, in which dry bones, representing Israel’s defeat and dead hopes, are given sinews and flesh and have the breath, the life of God, blown back into them. Included in Ezekiel’s bizarre vision, though, is a prophetic promise: “And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act,’ says the Lord.” (Ezekiel 37:12-14)
Scripture suggests that death is something God tolerates until s/he can do away with it – which is what we claim God did in Christ on Good Friday, and proved Easter Sunday. That is central to our belief as those who bear the name of Christ. One of our greatest faith challenges is to live that belief, that death has been neutralized, while in this life it is still so very real and so very destructive. These stories we read and learn and tell are counter-narratives to the one we live out in this physical life. So we must develop our spiritual selves as well as our physical selves – to see Life beyond death, and to see it so fully and clearly that it carries us through “the valley of the shadow of death” when that is where we find ourselves.- What is your relationship with death? Do you fear it? Dread it? See it as natural, as a release, or an enemy?
- Does your view change when it’s the death of another you’re contemplating?
- What is your relationship with life – the kind of life that transcends death? Does it feel real?
- Where is God for you in the whole subject of death?
In another nine days or so, the Church will enter into a deep, week-long contemplation of death and life, so this is a good time to entertain these questions and take them into prayer. If it feels to you like death still has the upper hand, still wins – that’s something to talk with God about, to ask questions and see where answers might emerge. We can say, “Lord, I don’t understand death, why it’s still part of life when you’ve vanquished it – but I do understand life.”
God’s Life is already in us, and we in it. As we learn to dwell in that Life, it will carry us into the life beyond this one. We can ask daily to be filled with that Life that truly overwhelms death – and gradually that Life is what we become.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. 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 can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The Gospels tell us almost nothing about Lazarus, yet he is the centerpiece of Jesus’ most powerful and unsettling miracle. We’re told he lived in Bethany outside Jerusalem, that he and his sisters were beloved in Jesus’ inner circle. We hear he was felled by an illness and died somewhat unexpectedly, from which we might surmise that he was not old. And that he made a journey into death and back into life – only to die again at a riper age. He has inspired numerous works of literature and art, yet in the only Biblical scene in which he appears, he enters bound in grave cloths, four days dead:
Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”
We are endlessly fascinated with tales of those who have physically died and somehow been revived. Proof of Heaven, Heaven is for Real, 90 Minutes in Heaven are only a few bestselling titles. But we have no record of what Lazarus experienced being revived after so long, what it would be like to undergo a reversal of decay, movement in limbs long set in rigor mortis. Yet Jesus’ command, “Unbind him, and let him go!” reverberates over the centuries, a powerful metaphor for release and new life.
Few of us have experienced being physically revived, but I suspect we have all seen life returning to people bound in one way or another, whether by poverty, addiction, crime, illness, abuse, self-destructive patterns. Yet we are more often stuck in the place of those onlookers who said, “Could not Jesus have kept this man from dying?” As our global community went through the extreme dislocation, disease and death wrought by the coronavirus pandemic; as we watch the demise of democracies and economies, homelands and habitats, those words echo all the more. I need to return again and again to what I have learned about the mysterious ways of God: that God seems rarely to be in the business of prevention. God is always in the business of resurrection. This is what Jesus demonstrated that day, what the four-day wait was about.
“Unbind him and let him go” might be said of us. May we be unbound from worldly expectations and set free to trust in this God whom we cannot see, but whose power and love we have experienced. Once, in a time of turmoil, I heard in prayer, “Trust me – and don’t take a step without me in this time.” Somehow I believe God will help us navigate these crises and be God’s agents in redemption, in the face of unimaginable loss and suffering and fear. That is our calling as people of faith.
You know who I think had the most faith of anyone in this scene? The guys who rolled away that stone, and Lazarus, who came out when Jesus called him. Few people are so open to the impossible they are willing to go with it when it comes their way. The more open we are to the impossible, the more possible it becomes every day. Choose life.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. 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 can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Isn’t it amazing how people can grow up in the same family and be so different from each other? As action-oriented as Martha is, her sister Mary seems geared toward reflection and a quiet devotedness. It is Mary who sits at Jesus’ feet listening to his teaching instead of helping Martha cook; Mary who anoints Jesus’ head and feet with a whole jar of expensive ointment shortly before his arrest, an act of extravagant, wasteful worship – arguably, the way worship should always be.
Mary is the same in this story – she stays at home when she hears that Jesus has arrived. But as soon as Martha tells her that Jesus is asking for her, she goes to him: … [Martha] went back and called her sister Mary, and told her privately, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” When she heard it, she got up quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet come to the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. The Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary get up quickly and go out. They followed her, thinking that she was going to the tomb to weep there. When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”
Mary utters the same words of gentle rebuke and profound faith as Martha did. But where Martha and Jesus engaged in theological conversation about death and life and resurrection and Jesus’ identity, with Mary it is her open display of feelings that touches Jesus’ spirit. When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.
In these two sisters we see different aspects of a spiritual whole. A healthy spiritual life makes room for emotions and intellect, receptivity and action. Most of us tend to emphasize one mode over another. How is it that you most readily experience holiness or the presence of God? In thoughts and actions? In silence and feelings? Some combination of these?
How do you most naturally express your spirituality?
Are your emotions available to you in your prayer and worship life?
Are you able to sit still on occasion and wait on the Lord, see what the Spirit is saying?
It’s good to know how we’re wired spiritually. Then we can look to see if we’re missing anything. Is God inviting us to play with a form of spiritual expression or reception that comes less naturally to us, but opens us to a new dimension of God-life? If you only ever read the bible (or this...) as a devotion, how about singing a hymn in your personal prayer time? If you only feel connected to God when serving dinner at the soup kitchen, how about going on a retreat alone, and seeing where God is in silence and inactivity.
Martha and Mary of Bethany are among the most fully drawn characters in the Gospels, and yet we know little about them. But they are a rich gift to us, these sisters, embodying different ways to love Jesus, and different modes of receiving his love.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. 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 can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Of all Jesus’ close friends and followers, the family we get to know best in the Gospels are three siblings, Lazarus, Martha and Mary, who live in Bethany, just outside Jerusalem. Luke gives us a glimpse into their relationships in the story of Martha’s preparations to feed Jesus and his entourage, as she expresses her frustration with her sister’s sitting with Jesus instead of helping with the meal. The way Jesus gently rebukes her and affirms Mary’s choice tells us they are close.
So it surprises everyone that Jesus does not immediately return to Judea at the news of Lazarus’ illness: When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.”
Martha is not one for sitting around – we see that in the story of the dinner party. She goes out to meet Jesus on the road. And the way she gently rebukes Jesus tell us they are close: “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.” Her faith in Jesus is strong! But is she asking for Lazarus to be healed now? “But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him…”
Jesus answers her straight on – and she thinks he’s being metaphorical. Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”
So much is made of Peter’s confession of Christ’s messianic identity – the church even marks it with a feast day. But here is Martha, articulating as clearly or more that Jesus is the Son of God, the awaited Messiah. Where is her feast day?
And here is Jesus, talking straightforwardly with a woman about his mission and identity – so much for those who think the Jesus movement was anti-woman. Jesus treats the women around him with the fullness of respect and honor that he accords the men. In that, he was much more controversial than if he’d suppressed the women. Jesus meets Martha as she is – active, bold, not sitting around waiting. He accepts her “If you’d been here…” as honestly as he accepts her “Yes, Lord, I believe.”
How about you? Are you able to be yourself in your relationship with God in Christ? Do you tell God how you feel about things not working out, for prayers that seem unanswered? What do you think Jesus means when he says, “I am resurrection, and I am life?” What does that mean in your life, in your experience of death and loss?
We don’t all share Martha’s conviction, her ability to say, without hesitation, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Son of God.” What each of us can share is her forthrightness, her refusal to accept without question, her taking the initiative to go out and meet Jesus as he approaches. Jesus yearns for us to know him as Martha did. Let’s go find him on the road to us, and learn just who he is.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. 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 can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This week we undertake a really long reading and a really big mystery – Jesus’ raising of Lazarus after he’s been dead for four days. This story appears only in John’s Gospel, and there it functions as the penultimate Sign of God’s power. This miracle leads many to believe that Jesus is who he says he is. It also seals his fate with the ruling authorities, who after this actively seek his execution. A man like this must be eliminated. A story like this must be suppressed.
Only, as we know, that story rose again, very much alive. We’re still telling it 2000-plus years later. Which suggests that God’s timing is never too late. This is hard to trust in the midst of worldwide turmoil, not to mention regular life. It’s normal to believe in “too late” when that’s what we feel we’ve experienced. And when death has come, we are by definition in the “too late” zone, right?
That’s what Jesus’ disciples argue when he takes his sweet time going to Lazarus’ side after being informed that he is very ill. Jesus says, “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it." Accordingly, though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer where he was.
A few days later, Jesus decides to go, saying Lazarus has died (what happened to “does not lead to death?"), though the whole region where Lazarus lives is now dangerous for Jesus. His disciples protest, but Jesus says something cryptic about “12 hours of daylight.” Did they wonder if he’d gone crazy? Thomas says, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”
Four days too late, and in perilous territory. Why go at all? Jesus says God will be glorified through this in some way, but who could imagine how? Of all the times Jesus asked his followers to hang on and believe, this must have been the most challenging.
What about us? In what circumstances of our lives does it feel like God has intervened too late, or not at all? It would be a good exercise to think about that, and write down the times you remember. Can you see any benefits that came from those outcomes? There may not be… and there might.
How do you feel about those situations now? Are you still angry or grieving? Did it impair your trust in God? Can you speak that in prayer today? Certainly, the psalmists and the prophets didn’t hold back their feelings toward God, even when those were dark or troubled… It’s a relationship; it requires communication.
Are there circumstances in your life now where you feel you’re waiting on God? You might ask in prayer whether there is any action you can take or receive. Maybe there is… and maybe not.
We will be asking some big questions this week. When do we acknowledge that things we value or love have died and grieve them (people, pets, relationships, jobs, prosperity, sobriety, health…)? And when do we allow the Spirit to whisper hope of new life? That takes growing in discernment. This story reminds us that what looks like the end isn’t always… sometimes it’s the beginning of an even stranger trip.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. 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.
