You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“Don’t play with fire,” we learn early in life from parents, camp counselors, Smoky the Bear. Fire, so cozy and warm in a fireplace, so romantic or spiritual on the ends of candles, can be so destructive if uncontained.
In our faith lives, however, we are invited not only to play, but to dance with fire, the fire of God. Perhaps I’m overly taken with this notion that the bridesmaids in Jesus’ story needed their lamps to dance in procession, escorting the bridegroom to his waiting bride. I love the image of flames weaving through darkened streets, building up anticipation of the joyful union to come. It’s a beautiful metaphor for how we can live out our identity as Christ followers, bearing his light into the world.
Do you wake up every morning and think, “I am a bearer of light?” The shortening days around us in the northern hemisphere can be a good reminder. And if we commit ourselves to being light-bearers, we’ll need to keep our oil reservoirs full, just like the bridesmaids in our story.
In the early church, oil was a symbol of the Holy Spirit. Many baptismal rites relied heavily on oil for anointing as a sign of the imparting of the Spirit. Paul, writing to the Ephesians, reminds them that they were “marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit” as a pledge of their spiritual inheritance, already available to them. We receive the same sign at our baptisms, a cross marked in oil on our foreheads.
It is the Holy Spirit who inspires us to ministries, large and small. It is the Spirit who equips us with the gifts we need to live out those ministries. It is the Spirit who empowers us, working through us so that we can do so much more than we can ask or imagine. It is the Spirit who brings us peace and union with Christ.
How do we keep our reservoirs filed with the Spirit? Pray. The prayer, “Holy Spirit, fill me…” is one God answers. In our human limitation, we often need to be refilled, for we are leaky vessels. And the oil we need comes free; it cannot be bought, as the foolish bridesmaids attempted to do. That prayer reminds us that any light-bearing we might accomplish for people walking in darkness will be by the Spirit’s power in us, not ours alone. We can’t lose with the prayer to be filled with the Spirit.
Have you noticed any dark streets or darkened hearts that could use some light? Do you feel you have some to share, or is your flame a bit dim? We’ve learned this week about keeping our lamps trimmed through spiritual practices that open us to God’s abundant life. Add to those a regular prayer of “Holy Spirit, fill me,” and we are always ready when the cry comes to greet the Bridegroom.
The world needs not only the light we bring – it also needs our joy. So we dance with our lights, as the bridesmaids danced the Bridegroom to his wedding feast and beloved bride. The bride is the church – a community of individuals in varying stages of coming to know Christ. Every time we dance the presence of Christ through the dark to a person waiting to receive him, we draw nearer to him ourselves.
Why play with fire, I ask you, if you can dance with it? That is our sacred duty, our inheritance, and our glorious future.
© 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.
11-5-26 - Jesus, the Bouncer?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I like happy endings. Yet a happy ending for one is often not for another. Victory in a game, or a war - or an election – means defeat for someone else. Not all happy endings have a sad flipside, but many do. So I’m not crazy about the way Jesus’ story of the bridesmaids ends. When the foolish bridesmaids discover their lamps are going out due to insufficient oil, they ask the ones who thought to bring extra to share, and are told: “No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.” And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, “Lord, lord, open to us.” But he replied, “Truly I tell you, I do not know you.”
I envision a crowd outside a popular nightspot, with a bouncer letting in the “cool ones” and keeping out those who are not on the list. But these bridesmaids thought they were connected. “Check it again,” they cry, “I’m sure we’re on there. We’re bridesmaids! We show up at church. We just had to run and get more oil.” But the reply is cold as ice: “I do not know you.”
Is this how Jesus will respond to us if we’re unprepared or late? His “punchline” to the story is: “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Is there no room for complacency? No missing the boat? And what about those who never knew about the club in the first place?
We encounter this harsh teaching at the end of a few parables. It seems counter to the message of acceptance and grace Jesus so often extended to people. He seemed most harsh with those who should know better – the religious leaders and his own disciples. These “foolish” bridesmaids represent people who’ve already made a commitment to the realm of God. There’s no excuse for them not being ready to fulfill their mission. Is there?
How do you feel as a disciple of Jesus Christ? Prepared? Equipped? Your lamp lit and oil reservoir full?
I like happy endings. Yet a happy ending for one is often not for another. Victory in a game, or a war - or an election – means defeat for someone else. Not all happy endings have a sad flipside, but many do. So I’m not crazy about the way Jesus’ story of the bridesmaids ends. When the foolish bridesmaids discover their lamps are going out due to insufficient oil, they ask the ones who thought to bring extra to share, and are told: “No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.” And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, “Lord, lord, open to us.” But he replied, “Truly I tell you, I do not know you.”
I envision a crowd outside a popular nightspot, with a bouncer letting in the “cool ones” and keeping out those who are not on the list. But these bridesmaids thought they were connected. “Check it again,” they cry, “I’m sure we’re on there. We’re bridesmaids! We show up at church. We just had to run and get more oil.” But the reply is cold as ice: “I do not know you.”
Is this how Jesus will respond to us if we’re unprepared or late? His “punchline” to the story is: “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Is there no room for complacency? No missing the boat? And what about those who never knew about the club in the first place?
We encounter this harsh teaching at the end of a few parables. It seems counter to the message of acceptance and grace Jesus so often extended to people. He seemed most harsh with those who should know better – the religious leaders and his own disciples. These “foolish” bridesmaids represent people who’ve already made a commitment to the realm of God. There’s no excuse for them not being ready to fulfill their mission. Is there?
How do you feel as a disciple of Jesus Christ? Prepared? Equipped? Your lamp lit and oil reservoir full?
If not, what do you feel you are lacking? Can you come into conversation with Jesus about that today? Ask him where the resources are, and as you wait for response, think about your circumstances and the people around you. What else do you need, and who else do you need, to more fully engage in God’s mission of reclaiming, restoring, renewing?
And if you feel the foolish bridesmaids got a raw deal, and fear you’d be in the same boat, that is definitely something to talk over with Jesus in prayer. Relationships require honest communication.
At the end of The Story, I hope and pray that door stays open to all who come, at whatever hour, as Jesus’ story about the workers in the vineyard suggests. In the meantime, we are invited to trust in God’s mercy and live into the mission which Jesus has entrusted to us – always ready to carry the light.
© 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.
And if you feel the foolish bridesmaids got a raw deal, and fear you’d be in the same boat, that is definitely something to talk over with Jesus in prayer. Relationships require honest communication.
At the end of The Story, I hope and pray that door stays open to all who come, at whatever hour, as Jesus’ story about the workers in the vineyard suggests. In the meantime, we are invited to trust in God’s mercy and live into the mission which Jesus has entrusted to us – always ready to carry the light.
© 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.
11-4-26 - Oil Crisis
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
At first glance Jesus’ parables often seem upside down. In this one we see half the bridesmaids rewarded for refusing to share, and others punished severely for merely failing to prepare. Hmmm. The nap they all took while waiting for the bridegroom to show up does not seem to have been a problem, and each had taken care to prepare her own lamp. The issue was that half of them had not thought ahead: “But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’”
Had the lamps had been lit earlier, when they thought the bridegroom would come any minute? Were they burning during nap time? Whatever the reason, the five foolish bridesmaids had not foreseen the need for extra oil. They’d brought just enough, which turned out to be not enough at all. And the wise (or “fuelish?”) were not about to share.
Wait a minute – isn’t Jesus in favor of sharing? Loving your neighbor as yourself? Doing unto others? What’s up with the selfish bridesmaids, and why does he deem them “wise?” Let’s think about it. If they'd shared the extra oil they’d brought no one would have enough. All the lamps would go out, and the bridegroom would arrive to darkness. No procession, no dancing, no lights. Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to find his bride. This falls into the category of the airplane instructions to put on your own oxygen mask before helping children and other passengers.
If Jesus’ story is a metaphor about God’s Bridegroom coming into the hearts of humankind to draw us into union with God, then an absence of light is a grave problem. The wise bridesmaids have their eye on the big picture, the overall mission, where the foolish ones can’t see past their personal success or failure. The disciples God seeks, Jesus suggests, are those who are conscious, aware, prepared, and focused enough on shining God's light in this world to not allow distractions to pull them off-mission.
In our day we know a thing or two about distractions – pervasive media, data, noise, busyness (anyone spend yesterday locked onto a newsfeed with election updates?) And in our post-Christendom culture, there are fewer external supports to living our lives focused on Christ – and a lot more competition. Sports on Sundays isn’t the half of it. I know people who hold back from a deeper spiritual commitment because their spouse or partner is not interested. I know many people who let their workload dictate their priorities. Too often I’m one of them.
It is not selfish to preserve time to be quiet with God, to foster your relationship with Christ. When we’re in love, we don’t question the amount of time we spend with our beloved. Jesus invites us into a relationship of love in which he becomes our first priority. If what we’re promised is true, he is our one eternal relationship – getting to know him and letting him get close to us is the greatest gift we can give to the people in our lives, no matter their short-term needs.
When we are refreshed, we are much more effective as representatives of God in the world. We are more finely tuned to discerning need around us, and to the movement of the Spirit in us. We are quicker to recognize our own faults and invite Jesus to set us free. We become wedding attendants who can dance Jesus into the hearts of those who might be ready to fall in love with him. He’ll do the rest.
© 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.
At first glance Jesus’ parables often seem upside down. In this one we see half the bridesmaids rewarded for refusing to share, and others punished severely for merely failing to prepare. Hmmm. The nap they all took while waiting for the bridegroom to show up does not seem to have been a problem, and each had taken care to prepare her own lamp. The issue was that half of them had not thought ahead: “But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’”
Had the lamps had been lit earlier, when they thought the bridegroom would come any minute? Were they burning during nap time? Whatever the reason, the five foolish bridesmaids had not foreseen the need for extra oil. They’d brought just enough, which turned out to be not enough at all. And the wise (or “fuelish?”) were not about to share.
Wait a minute – isn’t Jesus in favor of sharing? Loving your neighbor as yourself? Doing unto others? What’s up with the selfish bridesmaids, and why does he deem them “wise?” Let’s think about it. If they'd shared the extra oil they’d brought no one would have enough. All the lamps would go out, and the bridegroom would arrive to darkness. No procession, no dancing, no lights. Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to find his bride. This falls into the category of the airplane instructions to put on your own oxygen mask before helping children and other passengers.
If Jesus’ story is a metaphor about God’s Bridegroom coming into the hearts of humankind to draw us into union with God, then an absence of light is a grave problem. The wise bridesmaids have their eye on the big picture, the overall mission, where the foolish ones can’t see past their personal success or failure. The disciples God seeks, Jesus suggests, are those who are conscious, aware, prepared, and focused enough on shining God's light in this world to not allow distractions to pull them off-mission.
In our day we know a thing or two about distractions – pervasive media, data, noise, busyness (anyone spend yesterday locked onto a newsfeed with election updates?) And in our post-Christendom culture, there are fewer external supports to living our lives focused on Christ – and a lot more competition. Sports on Sundays isn’t the half of it. I know people who hold back from a deeper spiritual commitment because their spouse or partner is not interested. I know many people who let their workload dictate their priorities. Too often I’m one of them.
It is not selfish to preserve time to be quiet with God, to foster your relationship with Christ. When we’re in love, we don’t question the amount of time we spend with our beloved. Jesus invites us into a relationship of love in which he becomes our first priority. If what we’re promised is true, he is our one eternal relationship – getting to know him and letting him get close to us is the greatest gift we can give to the people in our lives, no matter their short-term needs.
When we are refreshed, we are much more effective as representatives of God in the world. We are more finely tuned to discerning need around us, and to the movement of the Spirit in us. We are quicker to recognize our own faults and invite Jesus to set us free. We become wedding attendants who can dance Jesus into the hearts of those who might be ready to fall in love with him. He’ll do the rest.
© 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.
11-3-26 - Trimming Our Lamps
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Turns out there is an art to making a flame, at least when it comes to lamps. According to Wikipedia, “A poorly trimmed wick creates a flame which is dim and smoky. A properly trimmed wick should come to a rounded point, or should be wedge shaped.” The bridesmaids in our story took care of that: “...at midnight there was a shout: ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’ Then all the bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps.”
Yesterday I shared that the “lamps” in Jesus’ parable may have been more like oil-soaked rag torches. Perhaps so, but he does speak of trimming wicks, which suggests a more sophisticated level of lamp technology. He seems to say, “It’s not enough to have access to fire, and fuel to burn – if we want our light to be strong and unwavering, we need to keep our wicks well trimmed.”
How does that translate for us as Christ-followers engaged in God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness? Our primary means of keeping our lamps ready to burn clear and bright are spiritual practices. These include well-known disciplines as well as rituals and patterns we develop for ourselves. The “big ones” are:
Turns out there is an art to making a flame, at least when it comes to lamps. According to Wikipedia, “A poorly trimmed wick creates a flame which is dim and smoky. A properly trimmed wick should come to a rounded point, or should be wedge shaped.” The bridesmaids in our story took care of that: “...at midnight there was a shout: ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’ Then all the bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps.”
Yesterday I shared that the “lamps” in Jesus’ parable may have been more like oil-soaked rag torches. Perhaps so, but he does speak of trimming wicks, which suggests a more sophisticated level of lamp technology. He seems to say, “It’s not enough to have access to fire, and fuel to burn – if we want our light to be strong and unwavering, we need to keep our wicks well trimmed.”
How does that translate for us as Christ-followers engaged in God’s mission to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness? Our primary means of keeping our lamps ready to burn clear and bright are spiritual practices. These include well-known disciplines as well as rituals and patterns we develop for ourselves. The “big ones” are:
- regular presence in worship with the Body of Christ;
- regularly reading and chewing on Scripture;
- regular times of prayer and contemplation in which we seek to hear God speaking to and through us;
- regular acts of giving and mercy.
Beyond these are disciplines such as fasting, confession, retreats, and pilgrimage that help us draw nearer to God.
Some of our personal rituals and routines can also be spiritual practices for us. These might include hospitality, listening, walking, drawing, music – anything that can be woven into the rhythm of your day or week that calls you to your truest self and opens your spirit to the life of God.
The key word here is “regular,” the root of which gives us our word “rule.” Like monastics, we are invited to take on a rule of life, a planned and articulated series of spiritual practices we find faith-strengthening and life-giving. Just as we exercise our bodies regularly, these practices make us more grounded, healthy, responsive, nimble and strong.
Do you have a “rule of life?” I developed one that included some time each day interacting with nature, regular walks and writing nature poetry as well as daily prayer, bible study and journaling, and monthly hospitality. (I hasten to note my compliance with my own rule of life wavers a bit.) What spiritual practices do you currently engage in, formally or informally? Make a list. Are there some you’ve been wanting to take on and haven’t gotten to? You could offer that desire or intention to God in prayer and then make a plan to incorporate it into your life. Be specific about the when and where, and who might support you in that practice.
If you don’t have a spiritual director or formalized “spiritual friendship” with anyone, I highly recommend a personal trainer or exercise buddy for your spiritual life. Jesus invites us to partner in ministry, and the accountability and other perspective is invaluable. (Email me if you want help with this.) For today, let the Tedeschi Trucks Band version of the song Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning call you to prayer. (Gospel choir version here.)
All the wick-trimming in the world, though, won’t let the light shine if we don’t have enough oil. The spiritual life is always a combination of our discipline and the Holy Spirit’s serendipitous presence. Tomorrow we’ll talk about what it means to have enough oil to shine for all the world to see.
© 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.
Some of our personal rituals and routines can also be spiritual practices for us. These might include hospitality, listening, walking, drawing, music – anything that can be woven into the rhythm of your day or week that calls you to your truest self and opens your spirit to the life of God.
The key word here is “regular,” the root of which gives us our word “rule.” Like monastics, we are invited to take on a rule of life, a planned and articulated series of spiritual practices we find faith-strengthening and life-giving. Just as we exercise our bodies regularly, these practices make us more grounded, healthy, responsive, nimble and strong.
Do you have a “rule of life?” I developed one that included some time each day interacting with nature, regular walks and writing nature poetry as well as daily prayer, bible study and journaling, and monthly hospitality. (I hasten to note my compliance with my own rule of life wavers a bit.) What spiritual practices do you currently engage in, formally or informally? Make a list. Are there some you’ve been wanting to take on and haven’t gotten to? You could offer that desire or intention to God in prayer and then make a plan to incorporate it into your life. Be specific about the when and where, and who might support you in that practice.
If you don’t have a spiritual director or formalized “spiritual friendship” with anyone, I highly recommend a personal trainer or exercise buddy for your spiritual life. Jesus invites us to partner in ministry, and the accountability and other perspective is invaluable. (Email me if you want help with this.) For today, let the Tedeschi Trucks Band version of the song Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning call you to prayer. (Gospel choir version here.)
All the wick-trimming in the world, though, won’t let the light shine if we don’t have enough oil. The spiritual life is always a combination of our discipline and the Holy Spirit’s serendipitous presence. Tomorrow we’ll talk about what it means to have enough oil to shine for all the world to see.
© 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.
11-2-26 - Bridesmaids
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This coming Sunday, we get one of Jesus’ more complex and confusing parables, about the wise and foolish bridesmaids. No, this isn’t the Kristen Wiig flick; this is Jesus telling a story to explain something he’d told his followers: “Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” (Matthew 24:42)
To teach them about being prepared, Jesus compares God’s realm to bridesmaids awaiting a tardy bridegroom: “The kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten bridesmaids took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept.”
So, why were the bridesmaids going to meet the bridegroom? Where was the bride? And why did they need lamps? The story makes more sense to us if we know a little about marriage customs in Jesus’ day – or what scholars think might have been marriage customs in Jesus’ day. I have read that in and around Bethlehem, around the time of Jesus and later, they would have wedding processions at night through the towns. The bridesmaids would greet the bridegroom and escort him to the bride, dancing with lit torches.
If so, the “lamps” in the story were really more like torches, rags soaked in oil and put in a bowl on a stick. Once lit, they’d last about 15 minutes, and then, if the distance was greater, more oil would be needed to keep them lit. Maybe that’s why these wise bridesmaids had not only their lamps, but extra oil, so they could do the dance with fire, whereas the foolish, shortsighted ones were going to be unable to fulfill their dance.
It’s a good metaphor for being faithful and ready – especially for disciples called to be bearers of light, bearers of the One who said "I am the Light of the World." There’s more to the parable, and we’ll let it unfold through the week, but let’s start with the drowsiness of the bridesmaids. How can we stay ready when what we’re waiting for seems so long in coming? It’s not hard to sympathize with them becoming drowsy and dropping off to sleep. How often do we feel God is too long in coming, too long answering our prayers in a way we desire, or that this Christian life is kind of a slog?
The bridesmaids' drowsiness can be likened to the spiritual condition called “acidie,” a kind of spiritual ennui we get when our love for God has grown tepid, nothing feels fresh or passionate. If our relationship with God is lukewarm, it’s hard to praise, it’s hard to get excited about service or sharing our faith with others. And for us, so far from the events we read about in the Gospels, it can be easy to feel it’s all ho-hum unless we have new encounters with Jesus in prayer and worship and service.
If that’s where you are, tell Jesus that today. If you are in a more connected, passionate faith place, rejoice in that. Either way, spend some time today in prayer with the One whom John the Baptist referred to as the Bridegroom. We are invited this week – and always – to take on the mantle of bridesmaid, one who dances the Bridegroom to his bride.
In Christian metaphor, the bride is the Church. What might it mean to dance Jesus to his church?
© 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 coming Sunday, we get one of Jesus’ more complex and confusing parables, about the wise and foolish bridesmaids. No, this isn’t the Kristen Wiig flick; this is Jesus telling a story to explain something he’d told his followers: “Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” (Matthew 24:42)
To teach them about being prepared, Jesus compares God’s realm to bridesmaids awaiting a tardy bridegroom: “The kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten bridesmaids took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept.”
So, why were the bridesmaids going to meet the bridegroom? Where was the bride? And why did they need lamps? The story makes more sense to us if we know a little about marriage customs in Jesus’ day – or what scholars think might have been marriage customs in Jesus’ day. I have read that in and around Bethlehem, around the time of Jesus and later, they would have wedding processions at night through the towns. The bridesmaids would greet the bridegroom and escort him to the bride, dancing with lit torches.
If so, the “lamps” in the story were really more like torches, rags soaked in oil and put in a bowl on a stick. Once lit, they’d last about 15 minutes, and then, if the distance was greater, more oil would be needed to keep them lit. Maybe that’s why these wise bridesmaids had not only their lamps, but extra oil, so they could do the dance with fire, whereas the foolish, shortsighted ones were going to be unable to fulfill their dance.
It’s a good metaphor for being faithful and ready – especially for disciples called to be bearers of light, bearers of the One who said "I am the Light of the World." There’s more to the parable, and we’ll let it unfold through the week, but let’s start with the drowsiness of the bridesmaids. How can we stay ready when what we’re waiting for seems so long in coming? It’s not hard to sympathize with them becoming drowsy and dropping off to sleep. How often do we feel God is too long in coming, too long answering our prayers in a way we desire, or that this Christian life is kind of a slog?
The bridesmaids' drowsiness can be likened to the spiritual condition called “acidie,” a kind of spiritual ennui we get when our love for God has grown tepid, nothing feels fresh or passionate. If our relationship with God is lukewarm, it’s hard to praise, it’s hard to get excited about service or sharing our faith with others. And for us, so far from the events we read about in the Gospels, it can be easy to feel it’s all ho-hum unless we have new encounters with Jesus in prayer and worship and service.
If that’s where you are, tell Jesus that today. If you are in a more connected, passionate faith place, rejoice in that. Either way, spend some time today in prayer with the One whom John the Baptist referred to as the Bridegroom. We are invited this week – and always – to take on the mantle of bridesmaid, one who dances the Bridegroom to his bride.
In Christian metaphor, the bride is the Church. What might it mean to dance Jesus to his church?
© 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.
10-30-26 - No Rose Garden
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When I was young(er), there was a hit on the radio that went “I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden; along with the sunshine there’s gotta be a little rain sometimes.” (Yikes, I even remember the lyrics – worse yet, there’s a video!)
I’m reminded of this little ditty by the last two Beatitudes:
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”
Lest Jesus’ disciples think that following him was their road to glory, he tells them right up front to expect flack, slander, even persecution. This will signal that they’re in the big leagues, up there with the great prophets of Israel who had messages from God their leaders didn’t want to hear. Look at what happened to them: flogging, imprisonment, job loss – sometimes death. Jesus does specify that it’s persecution for the sake of righteousness, or for his sake. Ordinary suffering and mistreatment don’t buy us a reward. But suffering for the revelation he has come to proclaim and demonstrate? That will be honoured.
In Europe and America we don’t face much persecution for being Christian – assuming that we present enough evidence to convict us. But if we’re serious about our faith and vocal about how our relationship with God in Christ affects our choices, decisions, priorities in how we spend our time, money and relationships, we may face derision, even some social cost. And to assert equity and justice for the poor and marginalized, in line with Jesus and the prophets before him, can put us at odds even with other Christians.
Now, if you’ve been keeping score, you’ll notice I skipped one Beatitude: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God."
This may be the most important one - and perhaps the best known, thanks to Monty Python’s Life of Brian (“Did he say, 'Blessed are the cheesemakers?” - google it if the clip doesn't come up...) I’ve grouped it with these persecution clauses because a true peacemaker is apt to make enemies, ironic as that may seem. Peacemaking is not for the faint of heart – just ask Mahatma Gandhi or Martin Luther King, Jr., to cite some obvious examples. Or Jesus. As we are reminded all too clearly in the current aggression between Israel and its neighbours, and worldwide skirmishes around that conflict, many people are deeply invested in their enmities, in us/them thinking, in the political and economic gains to be had by demonizing others. If we take up the ministry of forging peace, we should expect flack, even shrapnel.
When I was young(er), there was a hit on the radio that went “I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden; along with the sunshine there’s gotta be a little rain sometimes.” (Yikes, I even remember the lyrics – worse yet, there’s a video!)
I’m reminded of this little ditty by the last two Beatitudes:
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”
Lest Jesus’ disciples think that following him was their road to glory, he tells them right up front to expect flack, slander, even persecution. This will signal that they’re in the big leagues, up there with the great prophets of Israel who had messages from God their leaders didn’t want to hear. Look at what happened to them: flogging, imprisonment, job loss – sometimes death. Jesus does specify that it’s persecution for the sake of righteousness, or for his sake. Ordinary suffering and mistreatment don’t buy us a reward. But suffering for the revelation he has come to proclaim and demonstrate? That will be honoured.
In Europe and America we don’t face much persecution for being Christian – assuming that we present enough evidence to convict us. But if we’re serious about our faith and vocal about how our relationship with God in Christ affects our choices, decisions, priorities in how we spend our time, money and relationships, we may face derision, even some social cost. And to assert equity and justice for the poor and marginalized, in line with Jesus and the prophets before him, can put us at odds even with other Christians.
Now, if you’ve been keeping score, you’ll notice I skipped one Beatitude: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God."
This may be the most important one - and perhaps the best known, thanks to Monty Python’s Life of Brian (“Did he say, 'Blessed are the cheesemakers?” - google it if the clip doesn't come up...) I’ve grouped it with these persecution clauses because a true peacemaker is apt to make enemies, ironic as that may seem. Peacemaking is not for the faint of heart – just ask Mahatma Gandhi or Martin Luther King, Jr., to cite some obvious examples. Or Jesus. As we are reminded all too clearly in the current aggression between Israel and its neighbours, and worldwide skirmishes around that conflict, many people are deeply invested in their enmities, in us/them thinking, in the political and economic gains to be had by demonizing others. If we take up the ministry of forging peace, we should expect flack, even shrapnel.
- How do these beatitudes hit you today?
- Can you relate to the promise of persecution, and to the eventual reward?
- How have you experienced the ministry of peace-making?
- Are there ways your church community could become more active in that focus?
- What prayers rise up in you today?
Jesus doesn't promise us a rose garden. He doesn’t promise us a return to the Garden of Eden. He promises to make us part of God’s mission to reclaim, restore, and renew the garden of this earth and all its inhabitants. That breathtaking invitation is worth suffering for.
© 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.
© 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.
10-29-26 - Poor, Sad and Passive?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Now here’s a recruitment slogan: “Calling all who are poor, all who are sad, all who are passive – I’m going to change the world with you!” These may not be the qualities we associate with leadership and success… so maybe Jesus is inviting us to reconsider our criteria for leadership. His closest followers were not the cream of society’s crop – they were Galilean fishermen, tax collectors, women with “reputations.” And yet we honor them and know their names 2000 years later.
The first three “beatitudes” deal with emotional conditions:
‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
‘Blessed are the grief-stricken, for they will be comforted.
‘Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth."
What does “poor in spirit” mean? I think of it as being at a low ebb, spiritual energy sapped by fatigue or sadness or disappointment, faith less than robust. I suspect most of us have felt poor in spirit. But we, Jesus promises, will inherit the fullness of God’s spiritual realm, the Life of God.
Similarly, most of us know what it’s like to mourn; for some, grief seems to go on forever. But Jesus says we will be comforted. This doesn’t end the mourning, but can shift it into a different key, so that we manage to sing a new song even in our grief.
Meekness may be the one attribute here that is less common to us. I think of “meek” as passive, not pushy, not forwarding one’s own agenda. We often associate “meek” with being a doormat. But I once heard that “meek” may not be the best translation of the Greek. In French Bibles the word is rendered “debonair.” That gives a different slant. As an essay I found online (the link no longer live, alas) says, “Gone was Casper Milk Toast. Instead, my mental images were of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, or of Gene Kelly, singing in the rain. I would so much rather be debonair than meek! The debonair are people who move with grace through life. They have style. Blessed are the debonair!”
The writer goes on to say that the Greek word can be translated ‘gentleness.’ "The word can refer to a strong animal such as a horse, who is well-trained and gentle in spirit, in spite of its strength. It can also mean the quality of being teachable — modest, generous, humble and considerate. In other words, those who are blessed are those who have strength, and yet use it with gentleness.”
You may or may not feel debonair today, but I hope you have a sense of your strength and your gentleness. God can best work through us when we combine the two. Perhaps that’s what it means to “inherit the earth” – to participate fully in God’s mission in strength and gentleness. And when grief and dispiritedness are upon us, we might pray for more of the gentle power of the Spirit to fill us, to pump up our tires (the word for spirit is pneuma, after all…), to transform our mourning into joy. In making these feelings markers of discipleship, Jesus honors our emotional truth and invites us to bring all of who we are each day into the fullness of our God-Life.
And he offers hope for us when we’re not feeling so strong, reminding us, “This is not the end of your story.” He is the end of our story, and he will lead us there, as we follow.
© 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.
Now here’s a recruitment slogan: “Calling all who are poor, all who are sad, all who are passive – I’m going to change the world with you!” These may not be the qualities we associate with leadership and success… so maybe Jesus is inviting us to reconsider our criteria for leadership. His closest followers were not the cream of society’s crop – they were Galilean fishermen, tax collectors, women with “reputations.” And yet we honor them and know their names 2000 years later.
The first three “beatitudes” deal with emotional conditions:
‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
‘Blessed are the grief-stricken, for they will be comforted.
‘Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth."
What does “poor in spirit” mean? I think of it as being at a low ebb, spiritual energy sapped by fatigue or sadness or disappointment, faith less than robust. I suspect most of us have felt poor in spirit. But we, Jesus promises, will inherit the fullness of God’s spiritual realm, the Life of God.
Similarly, most of us know what it’s like to mourn; for some, grief seems to go on forever. But Jesus says we will be comforted. This doesn’t end the mourning, but can shift it into a different key, so that we manage to sing a new song even in our grief.
Meekness may be the one attribute here that is less common to us. I think of “meek” as passive, not pushy, not forwarding one’s own agenda. We often associate “meek” with being a doormat. But I once heard that “meek” may not be the best translation of the Greek. In French Bibles the word is rendered “debonair.” That gives a different slant. As an essay I found online (the link no longer live, alas) says, “Gone was Casper Milk Toast. Instead, my mental images were of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, or of Gene Kelly, singing in the rain. I would so much rather be debonair than meek! The debonair are people who move with grace through life. They have style. Blessed are the debonair!”
The writer goes on to say that the Greek word can be translated ‘gentleness.’ "The word can refer to a strong animal such as a horse, who is well-trained and gentle in spirit, in spite of its strength. It can also mean the quality of being teachable — modest, generous, humble and considerate. In other words, those who are blessed are those who have strength, and yet use it with gentleness.”
You may or may not feel debonair today, but I hope you have a sense of your strength and your gentleness. God can best work through us when we combine the two. Perhaps that’s what it means to “inherit the earth” – to participate fully in God’s mission in strength and gentleness. And when grief and dispiritedness are upon us, we might pray for more of the gentle power of the Spirit to fill us, to pump up our tires (the word for spirit is pneuma, after all…), to transform our mourning into joy. In making these feelings markers of discipleship, Jesus honors our emotional truth and invites us to bring all of who we are each day into the fullness of our God-Life.
And he offers hope for us when we’re not feeling so strong, reminding us, “This is not the end of your story.” He is the end of our story, and he will lead us there, as we follow.
© 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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