You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
It often amazes us how quickly the throng who lauded Jesus on his entry into Jerusalem could a few days later call with equal ardor for his crucifixion. Yet is it so surprising? Anyone who’s ever been a teenager knows how quickly strong and seemingly incompatible emotions can pass through us in swift succession. “I love so-and-so!” “I can’t stand so-and-so!” “I’ll die if you don’t let me go to that concert!” “I’m never leaving my room!”
Okay, but weren't those are supposed to be adults in that crowd? Well, any rational behavior we might expect from a group of adults can be neutralized by the Crowd Effect – which can quickly become Mob Rule. Something happens to human beings in crowds; normal inhibitions and rational thinking can be overcome by fervent emotion, which can quickly grow destructive. It happens at sporting events, excitement about a team turning into a murderous rampage.
And when you add a threat to people’s security, it’s not difficult to see how this crowd turned on Jesus. The temple authorities not-so-subtly suggested that Jesus’ continued activity and renown would awaken the wrath of the Romans, and all their Jewish subjects would suffer. “…It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish,” said the high priest Caiaphas. Anyone who had witnessed Roman brutality would do much to avoid a repeat occurrence.
In a way, “crucify him!” is easier to understand than the “Hosannas!” when Jesus entered Jerusalem. The chant of the crowd explicitly acknowledges Jesus’ Messiahship as the Son of David. People put their own cloaks on the road, presumably so the feet of the donkeys’ bearing the holy cargo wouldn't have to touch bare ground. Those who shouted “Hosanna!” were expressing trust in Jesus. When they saw him a few days later, in custody, beaten, seemingly powerless, perhaps their sense of trust felt betrayed, which fueled their rage.
Christians the world over will participate in the re-telling of this story on Palm Sunday, asked to join the crowd in both the hosannas and the calls for execution. I suspect many have trouble relating to both cries. We’re too familiar with the Jesus story to feel the excitement of recognizing the Messiah, and perhaps too removed from oppression to feel a strong need for a savior. To call for his death is bewildering. Where do you locate yourself among those positions?
Consider praying your way through the whole story before Sunday (Matthew 26:14- 27:66), being attentive to where you respond, who you relate to as it unfolds. Can you find in yourself that impulse to praise Jesus for who he is to you? If you feel he’s a stranger, if you’re one of the curious in the crowd, you might ask him to show you who he is.
“Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” they shouted, something many of us sing every week in the eucharist. If you feel Jesus has blessed you, tell him. See what that opens up.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
3-26-26 - Who Is This?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Every once in a while I come across a news item about some reality or sports star I’ve never heard of, who has gained some notoriety, or picked up another million or so TikTok followers – and I go, “Who the heck is that?” Evidently that’s how some people on the edges of that crowd hailing Jesus with palm branches and Hosannas felt: When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, "Who is this?’ "The crowds were saying, "This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee."
Some in the crowd recognized him as the Christ, the Messiah. Many assumed that the Messiah would have a military mission, liberating them from the hated Romans as their forebears had been liberated from Egyptian domination. A greater majority probably saw Jesus as a prophet, for only a prophet sent from God could do the kind of miracles Jesus was doing and speak with the authority with which he spoke. It was a big deal to be regarded as a prophet – but to be seen as Messiah? That was less likely.
The proportions in that crowd may be similar to the way Jesus is seen in the world today. To Christians and Muslims he is a prophet. Jews, Hindus, Sikhs, and other traditions, as well as some atheists and agnostics, see him as an important world religious figure of inestimable influence. I suspect some who claim the title “Christian” also view him this way, as an important moral teacher and prophet, but not divine. Baha'i see Christ as divine, though not in quite the same way as Christians do. To credal Christians, though, and to some in that crowd that day, Jesus was more than prophet. He had been revealed as Lord, Adonai, the long-awaited Deliverer.
Many people in our own day still say, when they hear of Jesus, “Who is this?” It is our privilege to introduce him, to say who we have experienced Jesus to be. We want to be sure people hear of Jesus. We don’t have to spout a party line or to tell other people’s stories – we can speak out of our own experience, and out of our tradition.
This time in our church year, when we mark Holy Week and Easter, is a particularly good time to tell our stories and make our introductions – invite people to come and experience the story for themselves on Palm Sunday, to hear the scope of God’s love for humanity at the Great Vigil of Easter, to soak up the celebration and joy on Easter Sunday.
And if our experience of Jesus is limited to what we’ve heard or read; if we’re still asking “Who is this?” ourselves, then we can ask him to make himself real to us in a new way this year, so that we can receive – and share – the gift more fully.
Wherever we find ourselves in this story, I hope we will share the ministry of that donkey – to bear Christ into the crowds, humble and patient, lifting him up for all to see, getting him to the places he needs to be in order to transform the world.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Every once in a while I come across a news item about some reality or sports star I’ve never heard of, who has gained some notoriety, or picked up another million or so TikTok followers – and I go, “Who the heck is that?” Evidently that’s how some people on the edges of that crowd hailing Jesus with palm branches and Hosannas felt: When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, "Who is this?’ "The crowds were saying, "This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee."
Some in the crowd recognized him as the Christ, the Messiah. Many assumed that the Messiah would have a military mission, liberating them from the hated Romans as their forebears had been liberated from Egyptian domination. A greater majority probably saw Jesus as a prophet, for only a prophet sent from God could do the kind of miracles Jesus was doing and speak with the authority with which he spoke. It was a big deal to be regarded as a prophet – but to be seen as Messiah? That was less likely.
The proportions in that crowd may be similar to the way Jesus is seen in the world today. To Christians and Muslims he is a prophet. Jews, Hindus, Sikhs, and other traditions, as well as some atheists and agnostics, see him as an important world religious figure of inestimable influence. I suspect some who claim the title “Christian” also view him this way, as an important moral teacher and prophet, but not divine. Baha'i see Christ as divine, though not in quite the same way as Christians do. To credal Christians, though, and to some in that crowd that day, Jesus was more than prophet. He had been revealed as Lord, Adonai, the long-awaited Deliverer.
Many people in our own day still say, when they hear of Jesus, “Who is this?” It is our privilege to introduce him, to say who we have experienced Jesus to be. We want to be sure people hear of Jesus. We don’t have to spout a party line or to tell other people’s stories – we can speak out of our own experience, and out of our tradition.
This time in our church year, when we mark Holy Week and Easter, is a particularly good time to tell our stories and make our introductions – invite people to come and experience the story for themselves on Palm Sunday, to hear the scope of God’s love for humanity at the Great Vigil of Easter, to soak up the celebration and joy on Easter Sunday.
And if our experience of Jesus is limited to what we’ve heard or read; if we’re still asking “Who is this?” ourselves, then we can ask him to make himself real to us in a new way this year, so that we can receive – and share – the gift more fully.
Wherever we find ourselves in this story, I hope we will share the ministry of that donkey – to bear Christ into the crowds, humble and patient, lifting him up for all to see, getting him to the places he needs to be in order to transform the world.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
3-25-26 - Provision
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As Jesus moved through his final days in this life, many details seemed to be supernaturally pre-arranged. Twice he sent out disciples to take care of needs, adding a mysterious element – “Go to x, do y, and if anyone asks you, here’s what you say…” When they needed a room in which to celebrate the Passover feast, it was very “cloak and dagger” – “Behold, when you have entered the city, a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him into the house that he enters and tell the master of the house, ‘The Teacher says to you, Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?’ And he will show you a large upper room furnished; prepare it there.”
And here, when the need is for a donkey, the disciples sent are also told what signs to look for: "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, 'The Lord needs them.' And he will send them immediately.’”
How did Jesus know they would find a donkey as soon as they entered the next village? And that the donkey’s owner would respond affirmatively to the notion that “the Lord” needed the animals? That suggests he was someone who knew Jesus to be Adonai, the Lord, not just Master and Teacher.
In the Bible, we find a principle at work: God provides what God needs to accomplish God’s mission, whether it’s stables, rooms, bread and fish, donkeys – or tombs. AND we see that God relies upon human beings to collaborate in that mission if it is to bear fruit. Theoretically the man with the donkeys could have refused, or asked a fee, or the man with the guest room say, “It’s already rented.”
Can you think of a time when you’ve received provision unexpectedly as you went about God’s work?
I bet that’s a story to tell… who needs to hear it?
And how would you respond if something as precious as livestock or a car were asked of you? Think back… What have you given for God’s use? What have you held back? What do you sense God asking you to lend at this time in your life?
(Time? Family? A skill or talent? A house, or money?)
I’m not asking what you have to offer – I’m asking what you sense the Holy Spirit asking for. It could be that there isn’t anything… or it could be that we need to inquire, to offer, to make ourselves receptive to the request.
Think about it: God tied himself in with human beings a long time ago, at least in the Story we have (maybe God has a whole other story going with wolves or trees or life forms on other planets…). God created the world without help, and then created humankind to help tend the whole enterprise. And even after that little initiative ran into trouble, God continued to rely upon people – upon the movement of patriarchs, and the voices of prophets, and the hands and feet of apostles to spread God’s message and reveal God’s power. It’s an intricate relationship between us and the Holy Spirit at work in us – and it is how God will continue to reveal God’s self in the world until he has restored all things to wholeness.
Which makes me wonder how much more whole things would be if we all offered our donkeys and extra rooms and special gifts as generously as the unnamed people in our stories did. What you got?
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
As Jesus moved through his final days in this life, many details seemed to be supernaturally pre-arranged. Twice he sent out disciples to take care of needs, adding a mysterious element – “Go to x, do y, and if anyone asks you, here’s what you say…” When they needed a room in which to celebrate the Passover feast, it was very “cloak and dagger” – “Behold, when you have entered the city, a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him into the house that he enters and tell the master of the house, ‘The Teacher says to you, Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?’ And he will show you a large upper room furnished; prepare it there.”
And here, when the need is for a donkey, the disciples sent are also told what signs to look for: "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, 'The Lord needs them.' And he will send them immediately.’”
How did Jesus know they would find a donkey as soon as they entered the next village? And that the donkey’s owner would respond affirmatively to the notion that “the Lord” needed the animals? That suggests he was someone who knew Jesus to be Adonai, the Lord, not just Master and Teacher.
In the Bible, we find a principle at work: God provides what God needs to accomplish God’s mission, whether it’s stables, rooms, bread and fish, donkeys – or tombs. AND we see that God relies upon human beings to collaborate in that mission if it is to bear fruit. Theoretically the man with the donkeys could have refused, or asked a fee, or the man with the guest room say, “It’s already rented.”
Can you think of a time when you’ve received provision unexpectedly as you went about God’s work?
I bet that’s a story to tell… who needs to hear it?
And how would you respond if something as precious as livestock or a car were asked of you? Think back… What have you given for God’s use? What have you held back? What do you sense God asking you to lend at this time in your life?
(Time? Family? A skill or talent? A house, or money?)
I’m not asking what you have to offer – I’m asking what you sense the Holy Spirit asking for. It could be that there isn’t anything… or it could be that we need to inquire, to offer, to make ourselves receptive to the request.
Think about it: God tied himself in with human beings a long time ago, at least in the Story we have (maybe God has a whole other story going with wolves or trees or life forms on other planets…). God created the world without help, and then created humankind to help tend the whole enterprise. And even after that little initiative ran into trouble, God continued to rely upon people – upon the movement of patriarchs, and the voices of prophets, and the hands and feet of apostles to spread God’s message and reveal God’s power. It’s an intricate relationship between us and the Holy Spirit at work in us – and it is how God will continue to reveal God’s self in the world until he has restored all things to wholeness.
Which makes me wonder how much more whole things would be if we all offered our donkeys and extra rooms and special gifts as generously as the unnamed people in our stories did. What you got?
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
3-24-26 - The Donkey(s)
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
When you spend some time with a passage from the bible, you often notice things you’ve missed in the past. Like, a donkey and a colt? Which was it?
When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.’”
This took place to fulfil what had been spoken through the prophet, saying “Tell the daughter of Zion, ‘Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’” The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.
He sat on them? That’s a stretch, to say the least! Now, we might chalk this up to Matthew’s penchant for tying every event he can to an Old Testament prophecy, no matter how far a reach (ba-dum-bum...) Mark and Luke each speak only of a colt, singular. Or maybe Matthew wants to be sure we get the connection to kingship, at the risk of absurdity. This ride of Jesus’ is not a mere victory lap – it is the entry of a king into his capital. But this is a king so humble, he not only rides upon a donkey, but even upon its foal.
We don’t always associate monarchy with humility, but they merge in so many stories of Jesus’ earthly life, from his birth in a rough-hewn shelter for animals, to his traveling company of fishermen, prostitutes and tax collectors. In fact, it’s not the humility that is hard to locate in this story – it’s the kingship. The royal gifts presented by the magi, the defensive measures of King Herod, and ultimately the crown of thorns – these disclose Jesus’ true nature, a monarch disguised as a commoner. That is why the epistle reading for Palm Sunday is always the hymn about Jesus found in Philippians 2:
When you spend some time with a passage from the bible, you often notice things you’ve missed in the past. Like, a donkey and a colt? Which was it?
When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.’”
This took place to fulfil what had been spoken through the prophet, saying “Tell the daughter of Zion, ‘Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’” The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.
He sat on them? That’s a stretch, to say the least! Now, we might chalk this up to Matthew’s penchant for tying every event he can to an Old Testament prophecy, no matter how far a reach (ba-dum-bum...) Mark and Luke each speak only of a colt, singular. Or maybe Matthew wants to be sure we get the connection to kingship, at the risk of absurdity. This ride of Jesus’ is not a mere victory lap – it is the entry of a king into his capital. But this is a king so humble, he not only rides upon a donkey, but even upon its foal.
We don’t always associate monarchy with humility, but they merge in so many stories of Jesus’ earthly life, from his birth in a rough-hewn shelter for animals, to his traveling company of fishermen, prostitutes and tax collectors. In fact, it’s not the humility that is hard to locate in this story – it’s the kingship. The royal gifts presented by the magi, the defensive measures of King Herod, and ultimately the crown of thorns – these disclose Jesus’ true nature, a monarch disguised as a commoner. That is why the epistle reading for Palm Sunday is always the hymn about Jesus found in Philippians 2:
Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.
Unless we really think about where the Son of God, the second person of the Trinity, came from, it can be hard to grasp just how dramatic a lowering of status he endured, consenting to be bounded in a human body, in time and space, to be subject to the care and cruelties of limited human beings. (Matthew West and Vince Gill sing a song called Leaving Heaven, which flips the perspective… )
Today in prayer let’s try exalting Jesus, even imagining him in the courts of heaven or a throne room. And then let’s imagine ourselves there with him. What feelings come up in you? Do you want to praise him? Flee from that presence? Go nearer? Go with the feelings, pray into them.
The divine reality we celebrate is that the God who made everything loved us so much, he decided to come into our earthly reality to woo us, to court us, to come and sit with us. Maybe that other colt is meant for you, for me, to ride along next to him, to the cross and beyond, into Life.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Unless we really think about where the Son of God, the second person of the Trinity, came from, it can be hard to grasp just how dramatic a lowering of status he endured, consenting to be bounded in a human body, in time and space, to be subject to the care and cruelties of limited human beings. (Matthew West and Vince Gill sing a song called Leaving Heaven, which flips the perspective… )
Today in prayer let’s try exalting Jesus, even imagining him in the courts of heaven or a throne room. And then let’s imagine ourselves there with him. What feelings come up in you? Do you want to praise him? Flee from that presence? Go nearer? Go with the feelings, pray into them.
The divine reality we celebrate is that the God who made everything loved us so much, he decided to come into our earthly reality to woo us, to court us, to come and sit with us. Maybe that other colt is meant for you, for me, to ride along next to him, to the cross and beyond, into Life.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
3-23-26 - To Jerusalem
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
How to focus Water Daily the next two weeks? The Gospel appointed for Palm Sunday is the whole Passion story, and the following week it’s Easter. But who wants to explore the empty tomb while we’re still in Holy Week; that’s like peeking at the last page while you’re still in chapter 5. This week let's do the “other” Gospel story for next Sunday, the story of the palms for which the day is named.
Onward we go, to Jerusalem, where the week begins with Jesus entering in triumph, lauded by crowds, and goes horribly, horribly wrong, ending with his brutal execution. Jesus had been saying for some time that he must go to Jerusalem, where he will be arrested, tried and executed. Earlier, when people had warned him to avoid Jerusalem, because Herod wanted to kill him. Jesus responded, “Go and tell that fox, ‘Behold, I cast out demons and perform cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I finish my course. Nevertheless, I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following, for it cannot be that a prophet should perish away from Jerusalem.” – (Luke 13:32-33)
The people of Israel had a funny relationship to their prophets. They revered them – and frequently sought to have them killed when they didn’t like their messages. Those messages veered between, “You’d better, or else…” or “It’s too late; you’re in trouble...” Amidst those, however, another divine theme can be heard: “I love you. I want so much for us to be together. If you might only do what you promised, honor me, honor each other…” But the people never could. How could they relate to such a fearsome God?
Philip Yancey offers an analogy to the incarnation in his book The Jesus I Never Knew – he talks about how the fish in his fish tank regarded him with terror, even though he fed them faithfully, and kept their water clean and chemically balanced. His interventions seemed to them like destruction, and they fled to their hiding places whenever he came near. “To my fish I was a deity. I was too large for them, too incomprehensible.” He thought one day, “I would have to become a fish and ‘speak’ to them in a language they could understand.”
Only, it turned out that even when God came among us in a form like ours, speaking our language, those who were deeply invested in the old ways, who had gained power by fostering people’s fear of God, weren’t any more receptive. This prophet, too, must be silenced, eliminated.
How do you think you would have regarded Jesus in his earthly time? Would you have been drawn to his miracles and messages, or put off? Would you have gone to him for healing or forgiveness? Would you have been unsettled by the threat to good order he represented, or thrilled that at last deliverance from oppression might be at hand? With what aspect of Jesus do you most easily connect? Least?
Knowing how we most naturally connect to Jesus can help us strengthen the relationship, and balance it. And there’s no wrong answer, even if we identify with the Pharisees. We know Jesus forgave them too.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
How to focus Water Daily the next two weeks? The Gospel appointed for Palm Sunday is the whole Passion story, and the following week it’s Easter. But who wants to explore the empty tomb while we’re still in Holy Week; that’s like peeking at the last page while you’re still in chapter 5. This week let's do the “other” Gospel story for next Sunday, the story of the palms for which the day is named.
Onward we go, to Jerusalem, where the week begins with Jesus entering in triumph, lauded by crowds, and goes horribly, horribly wrong, ending with his brutal execution. Jesus had been saying for some time that he must go to Jerusalem, where he will be arrested, tried and executed. Earlier, when people had warned him to avoid Jerusalem, because Herod wanted to kill him. Jesus responded, “Go and tell that fox, ‘Behold, I cast out demons and perform cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I finish my course. Nevertheless, I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following, for it cannot be that a prophet should perish away from Jerusalem.” – (Luke 13:32-33)
The people of Israel had a funny relationship to their prophets. They revered them – and frequently sought to have them killed when they didn’t like their messages. Those messages veered between, “You’d better, or else…” or “It’s too late; you’re in trouble...” Amidst those, however, another divine theme can be heard: “I love you. I want so much for us to be together. If you might only do what you promised, honor me, honor each other…” But the people never could. How could they relate to such a fearsome God?
Philip Yancey offers an analogy to the incarnation in his book The Jesus I Never Knew – he talks about how the fish in his fish tank regarded him with terror, even though he fed them faithfully, and kept their water clean and chemically balanced. His interventions seemed to them like destruction, and they fled to their hiding places whenever he came near. “To my fish I was a deity. I was too large for them, too incomprehensible.” He thought one day, “I would have to become a fish and ‘speak’ to them in a language they could understand.”
Only, it turned out that even when God came among us in a form like ours, speaking our language, those who were deeply invested in the old ways, who had gained power by fostering people’s fear of God, weren’t any more receptive. This prophet, too, must be silenced, eliminated.
How do you think you would have regarded Jesus in his earthly time? Would you have been drawn to his miracles and messages, or put off? Would you have gone to him for healing or forgiveness? Would you have been unsettled by the threat to good order he represented, or thrilled that at last deliverance from oppression might be at hand? With what aspect of Jesus do you most easily connect? Least?
Knowing how we most naturally connect to Jesus can help us strengthen the relationship, and balance it. And there’s no wrong answer, even if we identify with the Pharisees. We know Jesus forgave them too.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
3-20-26 - Life Wins
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Why did Jesus restore Lazarus to life when he was so very, very dead? Was it “for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it,” as he indicated to his disciples a few days earlier? Was it because he was so moved by Mary’s weeping that he started to weep himself? "When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved." The King James Version renders that verse, “Jesus wept,” the shortest verse in the Bible.
Or was Jesus “greatly disturbed in spirit” because he knew what God was equipping him to do next, and it scared the daylights out of him? Certainly, he was in some turmoil – the most literal translation of what we get as “disturbed” suggests actual gut-wrenching. Jesus weeps – and then Jesus acts. Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, "Take away the stone."
It can be hard for us, from this side of Easter, not to hear the echo of the women on their way to Jesus’ tomb, wondering who will roll away that stone. Stones are to keep death in, and the living out. And here comes God to overturn all of that order… just as God had said long ago s/he would.
Reviving of the dead also occurs in our reading from the Hebrew Bible this Sunday – but it is only a vision, in which dry bones, representing Israel’s defeat and dead hopes, are given sinews and flesh and have the breath, the life of God, blown back into them. Included in Ezekiel’s bizarre vision, though, is a prophetic promise: “And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act,’ says the Lord.” (Ezekiel 37:12-14)
Scripture suggests that death is something God tolerates until s/he can do away with it – which is what we claim God did in Christ on Good Friday, and proved Easter Sunday. That is central to our belief as those who bear the name of Christ. One of our greatest faith challenges is to live that belief, that death has been neutralized, while in this life it is still so very real and so very destructive. These stories we read and learn and tell are counter-narratives to the one we live out in this physical life. So we must develop our spiritual selves as well as our physical selves – to see Life beyond death, and to see it so fully and clearly that it carries us through “the valley of the shadow of death” when that is where we find ourselves.
Why did Jesus restore Lazarus to life when he was so very, very dead? Was it “for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it,” as he indicated to his disciples a few days earlier? Was it because he was so moved by Mary’s weeping that he started to weep himself? "When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved." The King James Version renders that verse, “Jesus wept,” the shortest verse in the Bible.
Or was Jesus “greatly disturbed in spirit” because he knew what God was equipping him to do next, and it scared the daylights out of him? Certainly, he was in some turmoil – the most literal translation of what we get as “disturbed” suggests actual gut-wrenching. Jesus weeps – and then Jesus acts. Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, "Take away the stone."
It can be hard for us, from this side of Easter, not to hear the echo of the women on their way to Jesus’ tomb, wondering who will roll away that stone. Stones are to keep death in, and the living out. And here comes God to overturn all of that order… just as God had said long ago s/he would.
Reviving of the dead also occurs in our reading from the Hebrew Bible this Sunday – but it is only a vision, in which dry bones, representing Israel’s defeat and dead hopes, are given sinews and flesh and have the breath, the life of God, blown back into them. Included in Ezekiel’s bizarre vision, though, is a prophetic promise: “And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act,’ says the Lord.” (Ezekiel 37:12-14)
Scripture suggests that death is something God tolerates until s/he can do away with it – which is what we claim God did in Christ on Good Friday, and proved Easter Sunday. That is central to our belief as those who bear the name of Christ. One of our greatest faith challenges is to live that belief, that death has been neutralized, while in this life it is still so very real and so very destructive. These stories we read and learn and tell are counter-narratives to the one we live out in this physical life. So we must develop our spiritual selves as well as our physical selves – to see Life beyond death, and to see it so fully and clearly that it carries us through “the valley of the shadow of death” when that is where we find ourselves.
- What is your relationship with death? Do you fear it? Dread it? See it as natural, as a release, or an enemy?
- Does your view change when it’s the death of another you’re contemplating?
- What is your relationship with life – the kind of life that transcends death? Does it feel real?
- Where is God for you in the whole subject of death?
In another nine days or so, the Church will enter into a deep, week-long contemplation of death and life, so this is a good time to entertain these questions and take them into prayer. If it feels to you like death still has the upper hand, still wins – that’s something to talk with God about, to ask questions and see where answers might emerge. We can say, “Lord, I don’t understand death, why it’s still part of life when you’ve vanquished it – but I do understand life.”
God’s Life is already in us, and we in it. As we learn to dwell in that Life, it will carry us into the life beyond this one. We can ask daily to be filled with that Life that truly overwhelms death – and gradually that Life is what we become.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
God’s Life is already in us, and we in it. As we learn to dwell in that Life, it will carry us into the life beyond this one. We can ask daily to be filled with that Life that truly overwhelms death – and gradually that Life is what we become.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
3-19-26 - Lazarus, the Unbound
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.
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.
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