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.
3-18-26 - Mary, the Contemplative
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.
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.
3-17-26 - Martha, the Pragmatic
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.
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.
3-16-26 - God's Timing
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.
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.
3-13-26 - Vision
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I once saw a beautiful documentary called “Visions of Mustang: Bringing Sight to the Forbidden Kingdom,” about a medical mission to bring eye care to the ancient kingdom of Mustang, a very remote, difficult to access part of Nepal. Extreme exposure to sun and wind and altitude means many residents there develop cataracts as well as other easily treated eye problems. The team saw 1650 patients, dispensed nearly 800 pairs of glasses and performed surgeries on many people, restoring sight to the blind and giving a first glimpse of clarity to many who never knew that’s what sight was supposed to be. It reminds me of this week’s gospel story.
Jesus was on his own kind of mission to restore sight in the forbidden kingdoms of this world, and his description of that mission is puzzling. He says to the man he healed, “I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.” Some of the Pharisees near him heard this and said to him, “Surely we are not blind, are we?” Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would not have sin. But now that you say, ‘We see,’ your sin remains."
Did Jesus really want those who thought they had God all figured out to become blind… or that they recognize their blindness? He is particularly hard on these leaders who are so sure they see correctly. Because they’ve had the advantage of his examples and his words, he says, and have rejected both, they are stuck in sin. These self-righteous ones, who think they are “first,” will be last of all. Yet to more obvious “sinners” who come to Jesus for life, he throws open the gates to the Kingdom – the last shall be first.
What about us? Are we among those who think we’re “first?” What about the “last” who never hear about Jesus’ love, or just do not experience faith? This is a mystery to sit with – and reconcile with the whole of Jesus’ promises of life over death. The life of faith is learning to see: to see ourselves clearly, knowing our weak spots as well as our strengths; to see others clearly and without judgment; to see God clearly.
Once again, Jesus affirms relationship over “religion”: Jesus heard that they had driven [the man born blind] out, and when he found him, he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” He answered, “And who is he, sir? Tell me, so that I may believe in him.” Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he.” He said, “Lord, I believe.” And he worshiped him.
As we meet Jesus, as we are open to meeting Jesus, we come to see him clearly too. That’s a prayer we might offer, “Okay, Jesus, let me see you, find out who you are.” We might experience him in prayer, or pick up a New Testament and read a Gospel, check out his "profile," as it were. We can spend time with people who know him, hang around him, build our trust.
Scott Hamilton, who put together the expedition depicted in the film – and numerous others – spoke at the screening I saw. He feels the reason they were successful was due to “monk power” – the 18 monks who accompanied them up to Mustang and went to remote settlements to invite people to the eye clinics. The trust engendered by those relationships made it possible for many to have their sight restored.
Jesus came in human flesh into our forbidden kingdom so that we might trust God to get close to us. As we build a community of love centred around the revelation Jesus offered, we develop the trust to draw near to him. As we open to relationship with him and let him come close, close enough to touch our eyes, we will find new sight, clearer than we could ever imagine.
© 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.
I once saw a beautiful documentary called “Visions of Mustang: Bringing Sight to the Forbidden Kingdom,” about a medical mission to bring eye care to the ancient kingdom of Mustang, a very remote, difficult to access part of Nepal. Extreme exposure to sun and wind and altitude means many residents there develop cataracts as well as other easily treated eye problems. The team saw 1650 patients, dispensed nearly 800 pairs of glasses and performed surgeries on many people, restoring sight to the blind and giving a first glimpse of clarity to many who never knew that’s what sight was supposed to be. It reminds me of this week’s gospel story.
Jesus was on his own kind of mission to restore sight in the forbidden kingdoms of this world, and his description of that mission is puzzling. He says to the man he healed, “I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.” Some of the Pharisees near him heard this and said to him, “Surely we are not blind, are we?” Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would not have sin. But now that you say, ‘We see,’ your sin remains."
Did Jesus really want those who thought they had God all figured out to become blind… or that they recognize their blindness? He is particularly hard on these leaders who are so sure they see correctly. Because they’ve had the advantage of his examples and his words, he says, and have rejected both, they are stuck in sin. These self-righteous ones, who think they are “first,” will be last of all. Yet to more obvious “sinners” who come to Jesus for life, he throws open the gates to the Kingdom – the last shall be first.
What about us? Are we among those who think we’re “first?” What about the “last” who never hear about Jesus’ love, or just do not experience faith? This is a mystery to sit with – and reconcile with the whole of Jesus’ promises of life over death. The life of faith is learning to see: to see ourselves clearly, knowing our weak spots as well as our strengths; to see others clearly and without judgment; to see God clearly.
Once again, Jesus affirms relationship over “religion”: Jesus heard that they had driven [the man born blind] out, and when he found him, he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” He answered, “And who is he, sir? Tell me, so that I may believe in him.” Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he.” He said, “Lord, I believe.” And he worshiped him.
As we meet Jesus, as we are open to meeting Jesus, we come to see him clearly too. That’s a prayer we might offer, “Okay, Jesus, let me see you, find out who you are.” We might experience him in prayer, or pick up a New Testament and read a Gospel, check out his "profile," as it were. We can spend time with people who know him, hang around him, build our trust.
Scott Hamilton, who put together the expedition depicted in the film – and numerous others – spoke at the screening I saw. He feels the reason they were successful was due to “monk power” – the 18 monks who accompanied them up to Mustang and went to remote settlements to invite people to the eye clinics. The trust engendered by those relationships made it possible for many to have their sight restored.
Jesus came in human flesh into our forbidden kingdom so that we might trust God to get close to us. As we build a community of love centred around the revelation Jesus offered, we develop the trust to draw near to him. As we open to relationship with him and let him come close, close enough to touch our eyes, we will find new sight, clearer than we could ever imagine.
© 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.
3-12-26 - Power In Weakness
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
A student of power dynamics could have a field day with the Christian gospels – no doubt, many have. In the next part of this week’s story we see how much power the powerless can have, and how much control people with an illusion of power can try to exert over others. The Pharisees depicted here prefigure the Inquisition by several centuries. Unsure what to make of this alleged miracle of healing, they interrogate the man healed of blindness. When he maintains his story – “this man came along, made a paste with mud, put it on my eyes, sent me to wash it off, and then I could see” – they question the man’s parents. Mom and Dad don’t contradict the story, so they haul the man himself in again.
So for the second time they called the man who had been blind, and they said to him, “Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner.” (I think we call that leading the witness… ) He answered, “I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” They said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” He answered them, “I have told you already, and you would not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?”
Where does this man get the boldness to answer the authorities with such wit and sarcasm? Perhaps knowing that God has healed him so mightily enables him to stand up to these ecclesiastical bullies. He gets a reaction: Then they reviled him, saying, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.” The man answered, “Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships him and obeys his will. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”
Talk about transformation! This man who used to beg every day, the only occupation his disability allowed him, now emerges as a theologian and a lawyer, turning their logic back on them. “If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” Clearly, his spiritual vision functions as well as his eyesight. This man who recently held the lowest social status now speaks with authority to the authorities.
Where do we get the courage to stand against power that abuses authority and misuses logic? We surely need it now, for there are plenty such leaders in our governments and communities. We can encounter such people in our own lives, workplaces, even families. How do we speak truth to them? We draw our power from the same place the now-seeing man did: knowing we are so beloved of God, that God can move heaven and earth to make us whole. It is precisely in our awareness of our need, our weakness before God, and God’s goodness, that we find the power to stand up for justice and truth.
Remind yourself of the different ways God has strengthened and healed you over the years. Recall the ways you used to have trouble functioning, that you’ve overcome. Name your gifts, and the transformations you’ve experienced. You might also name ways in which you still feel disabled, ill equipped, out of control. Invite the Spirit of God to pour God’s love into those areas in you, and make you whole.
St. Paul reminds us that God’s strength is perfected in our weakness. Anytime we’re unsure of where we stand, we can remember that we stand in the might of the God who made all that is, seen and unseen. And, as we stand in that power and love, we find we can see more and more.
© 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.
A student of power dynamics could have a field day with the Christian gospels – no doubt, many have. In the next part of this week’s story we see how much power the powerless can have, and how much control people with an illusion of power can try to exert over others. The Pharisees depicted here prefigure the Inquisition by several centuries. Unsure what to make of this alleged miracle of healing, they interrogate the man healed of blindness. When he maintains his story – “this man came along, made a paste with mud, put it on my eyes, sent me to wash it off, and then I could see” – they question the man’s parents. Mom and Dad don’t contradict the story, so they haul the man himself in again.
So for the second time they called the man who had been blind, and they said to him, “Give glory to God! We know that this man is a sinner.” (I think we call that leading the witness… ) He answered, “I do not know whether he is a sinner. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” They said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” He answered them, “I have told you already, and you would not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?”
Where does this man get the boldness to answer the authorities with such wit and sarcasm? Perhaps knowing that God has healed him so mightily enables him to stand up to these ecclesiastical bullies. He gets a reaction: Then they reviled him, saying, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.” The man answered, “Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships him and obeys his will. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”
Talk about transformation! This man who used to beg every day, the only occupation his disability allowed him, now emerges as a theologian and a lawyer, turning their logic back on them. “If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” Clearly, his spiritual vision functions as well as his eyesight. This man who recently held the lowest social status now speaks with authority to the authorities.
Where do we get the courage to stand against power that abuses authority and misuses logic? We surely need it now, for there are plenty such leaders in our governments and communities. We can encounter such people in our own lives, workplaces, even families. How do we speak truth to them? We draw our power from the same place the now-seeing man did: knowing we are so beloved of God, that God can move heaven and earth to make us whole. It is precisely in our awareness of our need, our weakness before God, and God’s goodness, that we find the power to stand up for justice and truth.
Remind yourself of the different ways God has strengthened and healed you over the years. Recall the ways you used to have trouble functioning, that you’ve overcome. Name your gifts, and the transformations you’ve experienced. You might also name ways in which you still feel disabled, ill equipped, out of control. Invite the Spirit of God to pour God’s love into those areas in you, and make you whole.
St. Paul reminds us that God’s strength is perfected in our weakness. Anytime we’re unsure of where we stand, we can remember that we stand in the might of the God who made all that is, seen and unseen. And, as we stand in that power and love, we find we can see more and more.
© 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.
3-11-26 - In Trouble
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
It’s amazing that Jesus has been held up as a role model to generations of children, given his penchant for talking back and getting in trouble. He’s the “Dennis the Menace” of world religious figures.
Of course, John’s gospel tends to emphasize his increasingly tense dealings with the religious authorities. In Matthew, Mark and Luke, which share some story traditions, Jesus always seems to be doing a miracle. In the Fourth Gospel, which is more “shaped,” the stories of Jesus’ signs are fewer, but build upon each other, involving greater and greater risk as Jesus confronts the scribes and Pharisees with evidence of divinity they’d rather not acknowledge.
It doesn’t help that Jesus seems to heal people any day of the week, even the Sabbath, leaving himself open to charges of violating the Law by "working.” This miracle with the man born blind really shakes things up: They brought to the Pharisees the man who had formerly been blind. Now it was a sabbath day when Jesus made the mud and opened his eyes. Then the Pharisees also began to ask him how he had received his sight. He said to them, “He put mud on my eyes. Then I washed, and now I see.” Some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, for he does not observe the sabbath.” But others said, “How can a man who is a sinner perform such signs?” And they were divided.
They interrogate the newly sighted man a second time; this time he says, “He is a prophet.” Not liking that answer, they call in the man’s parents to witness that he was indeed blind from birth, and that he now sees. The parents are terrified – they’ll admit he was born, and born blind; they refuse to comment on this new turn of events. “Ask him; he is of age. He will speak for himself.” His parents said this because they were afraid of the temple leaders; for the leaders had already agreed that anyone who confessed Jesus to be the Messiah would be put out of the synagogue.
Banishment is an extreme threat – and a measure of how threatened the Jewish leaders were by all that Jesus represented. The evidence of Jesus’ holiness and spiritual power was always before them – but to accept his claims seemed blasphemous, and would mean acknowledging his authority. These were men clinging to limited power under the thumb of the Roman occupiers; too much was at stake.
How about us? What order in our lives might be threatened by acknowledging the “God-ness” of Christ, accepting that his power is real and still at work in the world around us? Are we keeping Jesus at a safe distance, locked up in a pretty building, visiting him for an hour or so once or twice a week?
Or do we invite him into our lives, into our cluttered living rooms, into our frenetic days and never-done to-do lists? Are we willing to let him roam freely through our work and relationships and leisure activities, perusing our bank accounts and spending patterns? What if he suggests some changes to our priorities? What if he asks us to commit some time and resources to other things, other people?
There’s a lot to pray about in these questions – and a lot to offer to God, if we want to open our hands and hearts. We must issue the invitation; the Spirit of Christ seems rarely to come where not invited. And, most of the time, Jesus doesn’t even knock that many things over. He takes his time and lets us come around to his way of seeing before inviting us into new patterns of being.
Sometimes. Other times, he can be a little “Dennis” like… but, you know, like Dennis, kind of lovable.
© 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.
It’s amazing that Jesus has been held up as a role model to generations of children, given his penchant for talking back and getting in trouble. He’s the “Dennis the Menace” of world religious figures.
Of course, John’s gospel tends to emphasize his increasingly tense dealings with the religious authorities. In Matthew, Mark and Luke, which share some story traditions, Jesus always seems to be doing a miracle. In the Fourth Gospel, which is more “shaped,” the stories of Jesus’ signs are fewer, but build upon each other, involving greater and greater risk as Jesus confronts the scribes and Pharisees with evidence of divinity they’d rather not acknowledge.
It doesn’t help that Jesus seems to heal people any day of the week, even the Sabbath, leaving himself open to charges of violating the Law by "working.” This miracle with the man born blind really shakes things up: They brought to the Pharisees the man who had formerly been blind. Now it was a sabbath day when Jesus made the mud and opened his eyes. Then the Pharisees also began to ask him how he had received his sight. He said to them, “He put mud on my eyes. Then I washed, and now I see.” Some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, for he does not observe the sabbath.” But others said, “How can a man who is a sinner perform such signs?” And they were divided.
They interrogate the newly sighted man a second time; this time he says, “He is a prophet.” Not liking that answer, they call in the man’s parents to witness that he was indeed blind from birth, and that he now sees. The parents are terrified – they’ll admit he was born, and born blind; they refuse to comment on this new turn of events. “Ask him; he is of age. He will speak for himself.” His parents said this because they were afraid of the temple leaders; for the leaders had already agreed that anyone who confessed Jesus to be the Messiah would be put out of the synagogue.
Banishment is an extreme threat – and a measure of how threatened the Jewish leaders were by all that Jesus represented. The evidence of Jesus’ holiness and spiritual power was always before them – but to accept his claims seemed blasphemous, and would mean acknowledging his authority. These were men clinging to limited power under the thumb of the Roman occupiers; too much was at stake.
How about us? What order in our lives might be threatened by acknowledging the “God-ness” of Christ, accepting that his power is real and still at work in the world around us? Are we keeping Jesus at a safe distance, locked up in a pretty building, visiting him for an hour or so once or twice a week?
Or do we invite him into our lives, into our cluttered living rooms, into our frenetic days and never-done to-do lists? Are we willing to let him roam freely through our work and relationships and leisure activities, perusing our bank accounts and spending patterns? What if he suggests some changes to our priorities? What if he asks us to commit some time and resources to other things, other people?
There’s a lot to pray about in these questions – and a lot to offer to God, if we want to open our hands and hearts. We must issue the invitation; the Spirit of Christ seems rarely to come where not invited. And, most of the time, Jesus doesn’t even knock that many things over. He takes his time and lets us come around to his way of seeing before inviting us into new patterns of being.
Sometimes. Other times, he can be a little “Dennis” like… but, you know, like Dennis, kind of lovable.
© 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.
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