You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Many religious traditions revere figures who received a revelation which inspired that expression of spiritual life. Some have prophets, some gurus, some gods or goddesses, some martyrs. The Christian tradition goes further, claiming that, in addition to prophetic and angelic messengers, God sent his own son to reveal his truth and to set people free from the consequences of sin and death.
If an important person sends her daughter or son to represent her, it carries more weight than if an aide or staffer shows up. A daughter or son is more like that person, bearing her very DNA. The claim that Jesus of Nazareth was not only a good and holy man chosen by God as Messiah, but actually the embodied son of God is a pretty big claim.
Why does it matter that we consider Jesus the fully human, fully divine Son of God? Jesus' incarnation is a gift for many reasons, an indication of how far God was willing to go to bridge the chasm to humankind. But perhaps it is in his sacrifice on the cross that the son-ship of Jesus matters most. As a friend once said, trying to explain the Cross – “You can’t get a bigger sacrificial victim than the Son of God.” Further, in this sacrifice to end the whole bloody system of sacrifice, the father and son each make a sacrifice – to allow their bond to be severed on the altar of human vengeance.
We can discuss another day whether Jesus had to die and how his sacrifice set us free… traditional Christian understanding says he did and it does; we each find our way into that mystery. Today, let’s explore a smaller mystery – that in this parable, this very Son of God tells a story about a fictional son who will be beaten and killed by those appointed to nurture the harvest with which they’d been entrusted. Once again, Jesus is predicting his own death – and charging his listeners with murder. If they hadn’t already wanted to kill him, now they surely did.
In Jesus’ story, the wicked tenants seize the son, throw him out of the vineyard and kill him. Jesus was himself cast out by the temple leadership who could not swallow his claims of divinity – or his growing influence. They told themselves they were just getting rid of yet another troublemaker, not the Son of God. And yet Jesus’ son-ship remained a fact they had to deal with – even more after his death.
How does Jesus’ “son-ship” affect your faith?
Do you feel closer to God through knowing Jesus, however imperfectly we may know him in this life?
These are questions worth exploring as we live into a relationship with God through the Son whom we meet in Y’shua of Nazareth. They are worth exploring in prayer – we can say simply, “Jesus, I want to know God more fully. Let me see you," and see what unfolds.
How does knowing Jesus help us draw nearer the mystery of God? Jesus told his followers that if they’d seen him, they’d seen the Father. The best way to find out is to invite the Holy Spirit to dwell with us. It is the Spirit who brings us the presence of Christ, every time.
© 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.
Many landlords can tell horror stories about bad tenants – people who never clean bathrooms, who damage walls in riotous parties, allow animals to roam the basement, or cart off appliances when they leave in the middle of the night, six months’ rent unpaid. But the tenants in Jesus’ parable about the leased vineyard? This is like renting your property to a drug cartel.
What does the landlord desire in letting out his vineyard? He wants it to be well tended, to bear good fruit, of which he is due a portion as income. These are the terms which allow the tenants to live on the beautiful land and produce good grapes and fine wine. But these tenants don’t honor their agreement, and they communicate their refusal violently. They want to seize the vineyard and own it outright.
Jesus was suggesting to the religious leaders hearing this that they, as stewards of Israel’s religious life, were like those tenants. They had not heeded the prophets. They perpetuated a highly remunerative system of temple sacrifice, and left ordinary people thinking they could never be right in the sight of God. They had set themselves as arbiters of right and wrong instead of seeing themselves as stewards of God’s power and mercy.
Yesterday I said it was human nature to ignore warnings. It is also human nature to appropriate what has been freely loaned to us. Religious communities in particular can fall prey to this danger, to focus their energy and resources on perpetuating their own life at the expense of fostering a living relationship with the God of surprises.
If we assess ourselves as tenants of God’s vineyard, how do we measure up? Compared to the larcenous, murderous lot in Jesus’ story, we’re golden. But let’s look at ourselves straight on. God has entrusted us with the care of the earth, of our families, our money and income, our gifts, our neighbors… how are we doing? Is there good fruit? Are we returning to God a portion of what we have received?
Take an inventory of all the areas of life in which God has entrusted you with resources or ministry. Name the fruit. For instance, if you think of your family, what good is discernible in and through the people with whom you share a home or a name? If the gift is your body, what good fruit do you see from how well you care for it? If the gift is your work, what fruit do you see? Let’s name the fruits, and also the stagnant, unfruitful things connected to those areas. More prayer fodder.
Everything we have is a gift from God – a gift not to be seized but to be invested, nurtured, grown, and returned, at least in part. And always ready to be shared.
What kind of tenant on this earth do you want to be? What kind of steward of God's love can you 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.
Another week, another vineyard. In this week’s parable, Jesus continues the conversation he was having with the priests and Pharisees we looked at last week. After putting them in their place with the tale of the two sons, he says, “Listen to another parable.” This time, he borrows from Isaiah 5:1-7, starting his story almost the same way as the prophet did.
A landowner plants, fences and equips a vineyard, and then leases it to others to run. As rent they owe a portion of the harvest. At picking time, he sends collectors – but the tenants won’t pay: “But the tenants seized his servants and beat one, killed another, and stoned another.” They do the same to the next delegation, so the owner decides to send his son to collect the rent, “…saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.’ So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?”
Jesus is laying another trap for the religious leaders. In not-so-thinly-veiled language, he alludes to the reception which Israel’s leaders had traditionally given God’s prophets. Most often, when they didn’t like what the prophets had to say, they tried to silence or even kill them. And what were the prophets usually saying? “God doesn’t want your sacrifices and your legalistic rituals. God doesn’t want your lip-service about holiness while you cheat the orphan and the widow and dishonor God’s Sabbath. God wants your heart, your repentance, your compassion.” Or, as Isaiah says of the vineyard, “When I expected it to yield grapes, why did it yield wild grapes?”
It is human nature to turn away from messages that challenge us to change. As we observe unprecedented devastation from climate change we are reminded of the failure over the past sixty years to take seriously the risks to human, plant and animal life of a rapidly warming planet. On a smaller scale, think how hard it can be for an addict to take that first step in recovery, or for people to begin a weight-loss program. Often we wait until we see the effects of what we’ve been warned about – and then it can be too late. And sometimes, seeing the danger we’ve feared come to pass drives our heads further into the sands of denial and over-consumption.
Are there messages you have you been trying to ignore? Messages from God, from the Bible, from friends, from your own gut? Take some time in quiet today and ask that question of yourself and the Spirit, and see what emerges. “What am I pretending not to know?”
Are there issues on which you feel called to speak prophetically – messages that you believe God wants you to deliver? Are you offering them? How are they being received? Is there another way to communicate them?
This parable was a direct condemnation of Israel’s religious leaders in Jesus’ time. But its imagery resonates for us in many ways today, as citizens of the world and citizens of God’s realm. Isaiah tells us, "For the vineyard of the LORD of hosts is the house of Israel, and the people of Judah are his pleasant planting; he expected justice, but saw bloodshed; righteousness, but heard a cry!"
God’s call to us to be people of justice and righteousness still sounds. May we not leave those cries unheard.
© 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.
Nobody likes waiting in a line, especially not when people cut in ahead of you at the invitation of someone further up. So imagine how thrilled the Jewish religious leaders were to hear, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you.”
This was how Jesus summed up the parable of the two sons. The tax collectors and prostitutes presumably represented that first son, who said he wouldn’t work for his father, but then changed his mind and did. Sinners who repent, Jesus suggested, are closer to God’s heart than do-gooding, self-righteous holy people who feel they have nothing to repent for. As he saw it, the scribes and Pharisees were more like that second son, who mouthed the right words but didn’t give his heart to the father’s vineyard.
The leaders saw their fidelity to keeping the Torah, the Law, as evidence that they were more righteous than anyone. But Jesus had a different angle – for him what mattered most was how they responded to the revelation he brought, which he said was in line with what John the Baptist taught, and what the prophets for centuries before him had foretold. “For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.”
He knocked the religious leaders for their refusal to recognize that God offered righteousness through his Son, a redemption of the heart much deeper and longer-lasting than mere law-keeping could ever bring. They thought they’d be first in line by virtue of how well they stood in line! Jesus suggested that God was more interested in those who genuinely recognize their faults and need for God’s mercy.
Our culture is filled with people who have not been raised with church or a knowledge of Jesus or God’s transforming love. In our age, churches are often seen as smug, rigid, prejudiced, oppressive, not to mention dull and irrelevant.
Yet the Church, flawed as it can be, is God's primary tool for mission. We need to help turn our churches inside out, making them incubators for new life, spiritual growth, transformation and healing. We need to make it easy for people with no church background whatsoever to find meaning and life in our midst. That means rethinking the way we worship, give, govern, preach – everything. What might you do differently at church to make it more comfortable for the non-churched to encounter God's love?
I’ve always been amazed at the Iftars I attended during Ramadan. (Iftar is the meal at each day's end in that season of fasting.) Though most of the Muslims present had had no food or water since daybreak, and had provided most of the food, the leader always tells his congregants to go last in the food line, to let us non-fasters fill our plates first. This is the kind of grace to which we are called.
As far as we know, everyone who wants to be a part of God’s worldwide, time-and-space-encompassing community of love, is welcome. We’ll know we’re steeped in God's love when, no matter how long we’ve been in line, no matter how hungry we are, we’re delighted to let someone get to that feast ahead of us. There will be plenty, and to spare.
© 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.
Jesus often told simple stories to make complex points. The parable we explore this week, about a man and his two sons, is no exception. This one is bare bones. We're told who’s involved and what happened. No characterization, dialogue, insights into motivation; just the facts, ma’am.
They’re easy to tell: a man has two sons. He asks each one to go work in his vineyard. One says, “No way,” but then he goes and does it. The other says, “Sure, Dad,” and doesn’t go. Jesus asks, “Which did his father’s will?” The religious leaders answer, “The first.” Easy A. Seeing the work get done matters more than the intentions of the would-be workers. Isn’t that obvious?
Snap! They walked right into Jesus’ second trap. For they operated as the second son did; they built their reputations and their power base on being the “right people,” and on judging who else was a “right person.” For them, the “who” mattered much more than the “work.” The scruffy, the poor, the sick, the lame, the divorced, the sinful need not apply. These guardians of Israel’s purity kept temple life shut against the unrighteous.
But they couldn’t keep Jesus out – his ideas flowed under the doors and through the walls, empowering all those spiritual “have-nots” to repent and be healed, to call God himself their “Abba.” And these, Jesus goes on to say, will enter the Kingdom ahead of the professionally holy who know how to say the right thing but not do it. Even tax collectors and prostitutes, he says. Look out!
In real life, people are not so easily reduced to one kind or another. We’re both of those sons, ready to commit at one moment, distracted and derailed the next. Some people's detours away from God’s vineyard are decades long, through other religious explorations, deep into consumerism, to the worship of other goods and gods – or simply into dells of doubt or despair.
Others of us hew closely to the way of Jesus and his church – and find our enthusiasm siphoned off to managing buildings and accounts, worrying over empty pews, and lining up cooks for the next church supper. Is one more “right” than another? Many of us mourn the lack of interest in church and faith in our culture, shaking our heads about those who consider themselves “spiritual, but not religious.” But many of our churches contain folks who are religious but not spiritual – that saps our vitality.
Is there room in the Life of God for both types – and for us, when we are both types? For these two sons are really two parts of one person, two ends of a continuum. Some of us are closer to one end than another; some hug the middle. If you’re more an over-promiser or an over-deliverer, are you able to love those on the other end of the spectrum? Might you bring to mind someone who irritates you because they don’t come through, and someone else who refuses to commit, but gets it done anyway… and pray for each to be fully blessed? Even if that person is you?
Jesus leaned toward the under-achievers in his parables – maybe because the over-achievers didn’t need as much encouragement, or because he knew how easy it is for the righteous to judge others. He needed to remind them that God loves whom God chooses. Jesus doesn't suggest that the father in the story loves one son more than the other – one just helps him out more. That’s the one I want to be.
© 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 men interrogating Jesus about the source of his authority – “Who you working for?” – were good and righteous religious leaders. They were sure, as are most righteous folks, that they knew what God did and did not approve of, and were not keen on the way Jesus represented the Almighty. So they questioned him, thinking they could entrap him into saying something blasphemous.
But Jesus is two steps ahead of them. In response to their question, Jesus asks them one they cannot answer without getting in trouble with the people: “Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” The people revered John, and as the leaders relied on the crowd's approval, they are unable to answer one way or the other. Check and mate.
Jesus does not give a straight answer to their question, but he does respond in his sly, elliptical way – with a parable. This one is about a man and his two sons – no, not the one about the Prodigal Son; this is shorter and far less complex: “What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ He answered, ‘I will not’; but later he changed his mind and went. The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?”
Before we look at how the Pharisees and Jesus interpret this little story, let’s explore it for ourselves. Many of us have teenaged children or have been teenaged children. It is easy to imagine either scenario – the one who, when asked to unload the dishwasher, refuses… and then, when no one is looking, cleans up the whole kitchen. And another, who, when asked to mow the lawn, says, “Sure, sure,” and never looks up from his video game till evening.
But why am I picking on teenagers? A social media meme reads, “Ladies, if a man says he’s going to fix it, he will. You don’t have to remind him every six months.” Promising more than we deliver and delivering more than we promise are pretty basic human behaviors. Is one more godly? Is one more fruitful than another?
Which of these two sons do you relate to? Put another way, which better describes you in your faith journey? Were you raised a Christian and have been half-hearted in your practice? Or did you come to it as a convert, now eager to participate in a life you’d either spurned or not known about before?
And how do we react toward people who fit either of these categories? A favorite charge leveled at churches is that they are full of hypocrites. Have we said or heard that? My answer to that is, “There’s always room for one more...”
None of us gets it quite right, and none of us gets it all wrong. Thanks be to God, we are all sons and daughters of a God who judges with mercy and corrects with love. When we fully integrate that truth, we usually want to get out to that vineyard and get to work.
© 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.
In yesterday’s reflection I wandered into one aspect of the word “authority,” the “Who’s in charge?” sense. But the temple leaders interrogating Jesus in our Gospel passage meant more, “Who’s backing you? Who is ultimately responsible for what you’re saying and doing?”
We all carry paper and plastic and electronics around with us, which we use to buy things. These derive their value from what backs them up. Currency is only “worth the paper it’s printed on” because a national treasury has issued it. A letter of introduction to someone who might give you a job has value because of the person who signed it.
Jesus’ teaching and miracles had value because they were evidence of the power of the God who backed him. Those who believed that he represented the Living God were fine with that. Those who thought they knew God better had their doubts. Hence their question, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?”
It’s a good question for us as we seek to offer love, peace, healing and justice in God’s name. We know our world is full of people doing all kinds of things, often things we abhor, in the name of God as they understand God. How do we justify our ministries in the name of a force no one can see or prove?
Well, the first answer is – we can’t. Not fully. Not to someone who is sure there is no God, no creator who interacts with his or her creation. And we don’t have to try to “prove God.” We are only to bear witness to what we see and know, and to help generate evidence for others to respond to – and then be around when their questions burble up.
Beyond that, we should speak and act in the name of God often – that’s what it means to bear witness to the Jesus we know. So when we serve a meal at a shelter or spend time with a sad friend because we feel called by God to do so, let’s say so. When we hear of a situation over which we are powerless, let’s offer to pray, and say it’s because we believe God’s power is at work in the world.
How do we evaluate actions that are justified as reflecting God’s authority? Christians have been given criteria: Do we see evidence of the Holy Spirit? Do we see good fruit? That’s a mark of the Spirit. Is there more peace? That’s a mark of the Spirit. A religious organization that sends out hate-filled communications is not moving in the Spirit and authority of God. What spiritual fruit is being borne?
Another criterion: Is a given action consistent with the revelation we received from Jesus, or in Scripture? This last is a pretty wide field – our scriptures contain all kinds of things that don't look to me like fruit of the Spirit. So I’d lean toward the Jesus side of that equation – is it consistent with what he did and taught? If you’re unsure, ask a brother or sister in community to help you discern.
By whose authority do we do the things we do? If it’s by the authority of God in Christ, by the power of the Holy Spirit, let people know it. We have been given access to an incredible inheritance already, here and now – immense spiritual power. God didn’t mean for that to stay in a bank vault. We carry the cards, the cash, the PINs to spread that spiritual wealth around, backed by our all-powerful, all merciful, omnipotent God. Let’s use it. Who’s in your wallet?
© 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.
