You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Is it okay to ask God for stuff? Too often I hear people say things like, “Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother God with that…” or “God has more important prayers to answer,” as though God were limited in time or resources. If God is who we say God is – creator of all that is, seen and unseen; all-powerful, all-knowing; without limits or constraint; then we should feel free to make our needs known to God. Jesus said as much:
“Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’ And he answers from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.”
It’s an oddly negative example, this head of household all tucked in for the night with his children, this friend who will yield to annoying persistence before the claims of friendship, but Jesus often uses negative examples to contrast how good and generous God is by comparison. Jesus invites us not only to ask for our daily bread – the day’s supply, not a year’s – and beyond that to bring our petitions to God in prayer. Remember, Jesus tells this story in response to his disciples’ request, “Lord, teach us how to pray.” This is part of praying, trusting enough in God’s love to be persistent.
Why should we have to be persistent? Doesn’t God hear us the first time? I believe God hears us before we’ve even formed a prayer into words. God hears the intentions of our hearts. And if we’re praying in the Spirit, then God has inspired the very prayer God proposes to answer. That’s when prayer is really cooking. But in this life we’ll have some desires of our own, and anxieties, and we can offer those in prayer as often as we want. It’s the most productive way of dealing with our worries and wants. It is communication that deepens our relationship with God. And when we talk to God, we’re promised peace, a peace which allows us to better let go of our wants and worries.
Persistence doesn’t always yield the “result” we want. Sometimes God’s response is silence, or “no,” or we see an outcome very different than what we want or regard as life-giving. Mystery and timing are factors in prayer we can never control. Yet even when we don’t see the answer we desire, we’re invited to pray.
It could be that the only outcome is a deeper relationship with God – and what better outcome could there be than to be closer to the Maker of all worlds, the Lover of our souls, the one relationship that will endure when all else has fallen away?
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-22-25 - Prayer 101
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“Hello. You’re in charge. Supply me, forgive me, protect me.” These are the essential elements of prayer, as Jesus taught his disciples to pray.
He said to them, "When you pray, say:
Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come.
Give us each day our daily bread.
“Hello. You’re in charge. Supply me, forgive me, protect me.” These are the essential elements of prayer, as Jesus taught his disciples to pray.
He said to them, "When you pray, say:
Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come.
Give us each day our daily bread.
And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.
And do not bring us to the time of trial."
Watching his pattern of going apart to spend time in prayer inspired Jesus’ disciples to ask him to teach them how to pray. (They also had a little “keeping up with the John-ses” rivalry going on with John the Baptist's disciples…) Jesus’ answer has become the manual on prayer for Christians ever since, coming down to us as the Lord’s Prayer, which we often recite in the words of the Elizabethan translation rather than the more accurate original wording provided by later bible translations.
Many people must feel they need to be taught to pray – there are thousands of books and seminars on prayer. This is partly because we’re wired for action, and once we become addicted to a certain pace, and even addicted to stress (yes, our brain chemicals can become adapted to that too…), it is very uncomfortable to become still and put ourselves into a receptive mode. It is also hard to be in conversation with someone you cannot see. But this pattern Jesus provides is simple, and some of it corresponds to those prayers we utter without thinking: “Thanks! Help me! Give me! Forgive me! Save me!”
What we don’t always include in our spontaneous prayers is the first two parts of Jesus’ prayer – the naming of God as our Father/Mother/Source of being. To state this is to remind ourselves of the personal, familial relationship between us and God – God is not a corporate boss, a Santa with gifts, an accountant checking a balance sheet, or a judge weighing our merits. God is loving parent. That’s where we start.
And God is holy, which is what “hallowed” means. As loving and intimate as God may be, God is not the same as us. God is wholly other, completely good, Pure Love in which there is no fault or dilution. That affects the relationship and how we pray too.
Perhaps the most neglected clause is “Your kingdom come.” This means not only “Let the end of the world come soon,” though it has meant that to some. It means, “Let God-Life break into this world, into my life, into my heart right now, today, and every day.” It is the most radical prayer we can utter – and we’re invited to pray it every day.
If we were conscious of the power we are invoking when we pray those words, this world would be changed. Let’s see what happens when we start really meaning it.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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 do not bring us to the time of trial."
Watching his pattern of going apart to spend time in prayer inspired Jesus’ disciples to ask him to teach them how to pray. (They also had a little “keeping up with the John-ses” rivalry going on with John the Baptist's disciples…) Jesus’ answer has become the manual on prayer for Christians ever since, coming down to us as the Lord’s Prayer, which we often recite in the words of the Elizabethan translation rather than the more accurate original wording provided by later bible translations.
Many people must feel they need to be taught to pray – there are thousands of books and seminars on prayer. This is partly because we’re wired for action, and once we become addicted to a certain pace, and even addicted to stress (yes, our brain chemicals can become adapted to that too…), it is very uncomfortable to become still and put ourselves into a receptive mode. It is also hard to be in conversation with someone you cannot see. But this pattern Jesus provides is simple, and some of it corresponds to those prayers we utter without thinking: “Thanks! Help me! Give me! Forgive me! Save me!”
What we don’t always include in our spontaneous prayers is the first two parts of Jesus’ prayer – the naming of God as our Father/Mother/Source of being. To state this is to remind ourselves of the personal, familial relationship between us and God – God is not a corporate boss, a Santa with gifts, an accountant checking a balance sheet, or a judge weighing our merits. God is loving parent. That’s where we start.
And God is holy, which is what “hallowed” means. As loving and intimate as God may be, God is not the same as us. God is wholly other, completely good, Pure Love in which there is no fault or dilution. That affects the relationship and how we pray too.
Perhaps the most neglected clause is “Your kingdom come.” This means not only “Let the end of the world come soon,” though it has meant that to some. It means, “Let God-Life break into this world, into my life, into my heart right now, today, and every day.” It is the most radical prayer we can utter – and we’re invited to pray it every day.
If we were conscious of the power we are invoking when we pray those words, this world would be changed. Let’s see what happens when we start really meaning it.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-21-25 - A Certain Place
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Do you have a special place where you pray? Some people pray in the car, chatting with Jesus in the passenger seat. Others pray as they walk in nature. Some even pray in churches. Many people pray on the run, going from here to there, or as need or occasion arises.
All of these are good and valid forms of prayer in terms of talking to God. If we truly want to hear what God has to say to us we will also incorporate the kind of prayer that builds up our relationship with God. The gospels show us that Jesus often went apart to pray, and spent time in prayer. His disciples seem to have observed this pattern and were intrigued: He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.”
No relationship can grow unless both parties devote time to conversation. When we’ve made a new friend, or become enamored of someone, we find ourselves naturally wanting to communicate. That impulse can weaken as familiarity grows, so we need to be proactive and intentional about it. If we want to strengthen our connection with the God who made the universe, who knows and loves us more than we can imagine, we will need to show up for the conversation God is always ready to have with us. Yes, it requires more from us, because, unlike God, our time is finite and we can only effectively focus on one person at a time.
Designating a time and especially a place for quiet, contemplative prayer is the key. What time of day are you least likely to be distracted? Is there a place in your home – a chair, a window – where you can truly relax and go into “spirit-mode?” What you do when you get there can vary – some people read and chew on a passage of Scripture, or read the Daily Office (Episcopal-speak for a cycle of readings and prayers for morning and evening). You might read Water Daily and find your own way into Sunday’s gospel reading.
Leave some time to allow your spirit to settle deeply and invite God to speak in that silence. Perhaps your imagination will produce a scene in which you and Jesus can chat. I don’t know what it will look like for you. I only know that God desires connection with God’s beloveds, and connection requires communication, and communication with God will transform our whole day – and life.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
Do you have a special place where you pray? Some people pray in the car, chatting with Jesus in the passenger seat. Others pray as they walk in nature. Some even pray in churches. Many people pray on the run, going from here to there, or as need or occasion arises.
All of these are good and valid forms of prayer in terms of talking to God. If we truly want to hear what God has to say to us we will also incorporate the kind of prayer that builds up our relationship with God. The gospels show us that Jesus often went apart to pray, and spent time in prayer. His disciples seem to have observed this pattern and were intrigued: He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.”
No relationship can grow unless both parties devote time to conversation. When we’ve made a new friend, or become enamored of someone, we find ourselves naturally wanting to communicate. That impulse can weaken as familiarity grows, so we need to be proactive and intentional about it. If we want to strengthen our connection with the God who made the universe, who knows and loves us more than we can imagine, we will need to show up for the conversation God is always ready to have with us. Yes, it requires more from us, because, unlike God, our time is finite and we can only effectively focus on one person at a time.
Designating a time and especially a place for quiet, contemplative prayer is the key. What time of day are you least likely to be distracted? Is there a place in your home – a chair, a window – where you can truly relax and go into “spirit-mode?” What you do when you get there can vary – some people read and chew on a passage of Scripture, or read the Daily Office (Episcopal-speak for a cycle of readings and prayers for morning and evening). You might read Water Daily and find your own way into Sunday’s gospel reading.
Leave some time to allow your spirit to settle deeply and invite God to speak in that silence. Perhaps your imagination will produce a scene in which you and Jesus can chat. I don’t know what it will look like for you. I only know that God desires connection with God’s beloveds, and connection requires communication, and communication with God will transform our whole day – and life.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-18-25 - Better
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The story of Jesus’ visit to the home of Martha and Mary is often interpreted as contrasting the contemplative and active dimensions of spiritual life. And whenever I’ve asked people to whom they relate most strongly in this story, most answer Martha. This is not surprising in a culture which lives by to-do lists, in which productivity and accomplishment are the highest criteria for success. We might all agree that a healthy soul-life is balanced – our connection to God cultivated in prayer needs to be expressed outwardly in action, and our actions need to be grounded in our connection to God in prayer if we want them to bear fruit.
Jesus, however, does not value these equally: But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”
The better part, not just as good. Jesus says “No, Martha. Mary does not have to get up and help you in the kitchen. She is putting her relationship with me above everything else, and no one can take that away from her.”
Don’t most of us have at least one person in our lives whom we would drop everything to spend time with? For Christ-followers, at least one of those people should be Jesus. The first step in becoming a disciple of Jesus Christ is choosing to put him first, before the other loves and priorities which claim us. What he thinks is important becomes of utmost importance to us – trusting in God, offering the power of healing, sharing resources with those who have less. If he says time with him (which is what prayer and worship are…) is the highest priority, let’s make it ours.
Before we agree to do something, or launch an initiative of our own creation, let’s plan for how we will integrate that project into our lives of prayer and worship, first making sure we’ve set aside time for those. And when someone in the church who excels at prayer and intercession really doesn’t want to be on a committee, entrust them with your prayer list and leave them to do what they do best. There will be plenty of people who like the active ministries.
The real challenge is how to get us “active” types to sit down and spend more time at Jesus’ feet. One reason we keep going the way we do is to avoid dealing with feelings that come up when we’re quiet. Many of us also deal with the very real condition of stress addiction, whereby our brains become wired to feel calmer when we’re busy and more anxious when we’re still. Maybe we just have to be more active about becoming contemplative. Martin Luther is quoted as having said, “I have so much to do that I shall spend the first three hours in prayer.”
Who knows how efficiently Mary might have worked in that kitchen after receiving the gifts of Jesus’ teaching, had Martha been willing to trust. And who knows how peaceful Martha might have felt had she joined Mary in her choice. Dinner can wait; Jesus is now. Join him, and dinner will happen.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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 story of Jesus’ visit to the home of Martha and Mary is often interpreted as contrasting the contemplative and active dimensions of spiritual life. And whenever I’ve asked people to whom they relate most strongly in this story, most answer Martha. This is not surprising in a culture which lives by to-do lists, in which productivity and accomplishment are the highest criteria for success. We might all agree that a healthy soul-life is balanced – our connection to God cultivated in prayer needs to be expressed outwardly in action, and our actions need to be grounded in our connection to God in prayer if we want them to bear fruit.
Jesus, however, does not value these equally: But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”
The better part, not just as good. Jesus says “No, Martha. Mary does not have to get up and help you in the kitchen. She is putting her relationship with me above everything else, and no one can take that away from her.”
Don’t most of us have at least one person in our lives whom we would drop everything to spend time with? For Christ-followers, at least one of those people should be Jesus. The first step in becoming a disciple of Jesus Christ is choosing to put him first, before the other loves and priorities which claim us. What he thinks is important becomes of utmost importance to us – trusting in God, offering the power of healing, sharing resources with those who have less. If he says time with him (which is what prayer and worship are…) is the highest priority, let’s make it ours.
Before we agree to do something, or launch an initiative of our own creation, let’s plan for how we will integrate that project into our lives of prayer and worship, first making sure we’ve set aside time for those. And when someone in the church who excels at prayer and intercession really doesn’t want to be on a committee, entrust them with your prayer list and leave them to do what they do best. There will be plenty of people who like the active ministries.
The real challenge is how to get us “active” types to sit down and spend more time at Jesus’ feet. One reason we keep going the way we do is to avoid dealing with feelings that come up when we’re quiet. Many of us also deal with the very real condition of stress addiction, whereby our brains become wired to feel calmer when we’re busy and more anxious when we’re still. Maybe we just have to be more active about becoming contemplative. Martin Luther is quoted as having said, “I have so much to do that I shall spend the first three hours in prayer.”
Who knows how efficiently Mary might have worked in that kitchen after receiving the gifts of Jesus’ teaching, had Martha been willing to trust. And who knows how peaceful Martha might have felt had she joined Mary in her choice. Dinner can wait; Jesus is now. Join him, and dinner will happen.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-17-25 - Distracted Living
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“Martha, Martha.” It’s that repeating of the name that hooks me, a master-stroke of narrative reporting by Luke. Maybe it’s simply the way he heard the story (from Martha herself?). As Martha of Bethany stresses out over her hosting chores, asking Jesus to make her sister get up and help her rather than sit there listening to him teach, Jesus addresses her calmly and directly: “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”
Of all the weapons the Enemy of Human Nature uses to divert us from God, worry is among the most effective and frequently deployed. When we are worried, we are by definition distracted, focusing on what worries us rather than on the God who blesses. Martha can no longer remember why she invited Jesus to her home, why she wants to offer a lovely meal. All the joy and generosity of giving is lost in her annoyance and anxiety. She’s no longer available for relationship with Jesus, or with her sister Mary – she can only try to control and manipulate them. That ever happen to you?
I once invited a man I was interested in to a dinner party, and then spent the entire evening in the kitchen stressing myself out to present an impressive meal, overhearing all the great conversation among the wonderful guests I’d invited, never making myself present or available for the relationship I hoped for. Talk about distracted.
Imagine there are three boxes drawn on the pavement, as though for hopscotch. You are in the center box. Your worries are in the one on the left, and God is in the one on the right. If you turn to focus on what worries you, that’s all you can see. God is behind you, still able to bless, but you can't engage. If you turn the other way (and the Greek word for repentance, metanoia, means to turn fully around) you are now facing God. And where are your worries? They are in the box behind you. They’re still there, and God can see them, yet you are now focused on the source of solutions and answers. In fact, as we focus on God, we are better able to imagine solutions ourselves.
Focusing on what worries us is like distracted driving; taking our eyes off Jesus is like taking our eyes off the road. We may not crash, but our risk and anxiety levels increase, and we’re a danger to others. Think about what “many things” are worrying and distracting you. Now, hear Jesus say your name, not once, but twice, gently calling you back to yourself – and himself. Hear his words: “There is need of only one thing.” He is the one thing. He is all we need.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
“Martha, Martha.” It’s that repeating of the name that hooks me, a master-stroke of narrative reporting by Luke. Maybe it’s simply the way he heard the story (from Martha herself?). As Martha of Bethany stresses out over her hosting chores, asking Jesus to make her sister get up and help her rather than sit there listening to him teach, Jesus addresses her calmly and directly: “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”
Of all the weapons the Enemy of Human Nature uses to divert us from God, worry is among the most effective and frequently deployed. When we are worried, we are by definition distracted, focusing on what worries us rather than on the God who blesses. Martha can no longer remember why she invited Jesus to her home, why she wants to offer a lovely meal. All the joy and generosity of giving is lost in her annoyance and anxiety. She’s no longer available for relationship with Jesus, or with her sister Mary – she can only try to control and manipulate them. That ever happen to you?
I once invited a man I was interested in to a dinner party, and then spent the entire evening in the kitchen stressing myself out to present an impressive meal, overhearing all the great conversation among the wonderful guests I’d invited, never making myself present or available for the relationship I hoped for. Talk about distracted.
Imagine there are three boxes drawn on the pavement, as though for hopscotch. You are in the center box. Your worries are in the one on the left, and God is in the one on the right. If you turn to focus on what worries you, that’s all you can see. God is behind you, still able to bless, but you can't engage. If you turn the other way (and the Greek word for repentance, metanoia, means to turn fully around) you are now facing God. And where are your worries? They are in the box behind you. They’re still there, and God can see them, yet you are now focused on the source of solutions and answers. In fact, as we focus on God, we are better able to imagine solutions ourselves.
Focusing on what worries us is like distracted driving; taking our eyes off Jesus is like taking our eyes off the road. We may not crash, but our risk and anxiety levels increase, and we’re a danger to others. Think about what “many things” are worrying and distracting you. Now, hear Jesus say your name, not once, but twice, gently calling you back to yourself – and himself. Hear his words: “There is need of only one thing.” He is the one thing. He is all we need.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-16-25 - Unholy Triangles
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This gospel story packs a lot of emotional complexity into five verses. We get a glimpse into Jesus’ relationship with these two sisters, and their relationship with each other. And we see a behavior pattern which is all too familiar to many of us – an unwillingness to communicate directly when disgruntled, and the attendant tendency to rope in a third party.
Martha has taken on a big task preparing dinner for Jesus and his friends, and she sees her sister sitting at Jesus’ feet, drinking in his teaching. Stressed, envious, and perhaps annoyed by other things about her sister, she pulls a classic triangulation move: She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.”
Let’s look at this passive aggressive remark in all its glory. “Lord, do you not care?” Martha begins by implying that if Jesus cared about her, he would have noticed how hard she was working and sought to fix it. How often do conflicts in our personal and professional relationships result from our overworking, or taking more responsibility in a situation than we need to, and then getting angry that someone has not read our mind and stepped in to save us from ourselves?
“My sister has left me to do all the work by myself.” She’s complaining about Mary, but addressing it to Jesus, letting Mary overhear it, as it were. Martha expresses abandonment and grievance, and doesn’t even trust Mary to hear her feelings directly. Have you ever had someone complain about you to someone else while you’re there? That can only make us feel guilty, not inspired to help.
“Tell her then to help me.” Instead of asking Mary for what she needs, Martha wants Jesus to do her work for her. Does she think Mary doesn't care about her? Does she have to bring in the “big guns?” Or does she want Jesus to prove that he cares by tending to her emotionally?
In the realm of personal relationships, we should only ask Jesus to act in someone else’s life when we're praying for them to be blessed. If we feel they need correcting, protecting, convicting or forgiving, chances are we have an agenda that we should share with them directly and honestly. Say your piece, in love, without expecting a response, and then turn it over to God. You’ve done what you can. But don’t ask God or anyone else to be your messenger when you’ve got something to say.
When we’re able to be clear and direct with one another, we create freedom. Often we find our relationship with God becomes clearer too. And then we're better able to listen.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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 gospel story packs a lot of emotional complexity into five verses. We get a glimpse into Jesus’ relationship with these two sisters, and their relationship with each other. And we see a behavior pattern which is all too familiar to many of us – an unwillingness to communicate directly when disgruntled, and the attendant tendency to rope in a third party.
Martha has taken on a big task preparing dinner for Jesus and his friends, and she sees her sister sitting at Jesus’ feet, drinking in his teaching. Stressed, envious, and perhaps annoyed by other things about her sister, she pulls a classic triangulation move: She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.”
Let’s look at this passive aggressive remark in all its glory. “Lord, do you not care?” Martha begins by implying that if Jesus cared about her, he would have noticed how hard she was working and sought to fix it. How often do conflicts in our personal and professional relationships result from our overworking, or taking more responsibility in a situation than we need to, and then getting angry that someone has not read our mind and stepped in to save us from ourselves?
“My sister has left me to do all the work by myself.” She’s complaining about Mary, but addressing it to Jesus, letting Mary overhear it, as it were. Martha expresses abandonment and grievance, and doesn’t even trust Mary to hear her feelings directly. Have you ever had someone complain about you to someone else while you’re there? That can only make us feel guilty, not inspired to help.
“Tell her then to help me.” Instead of asking Mary for what she needs, Martha wants Jesus to do her work for her. Does she think Mary doesn't care about her? Does she have to bring in the “big guns?” Or does she want Jesus to prove that he cares by tending to her emotionally?
In the realm of personal relationships, we should only ask Jesus to act in someone else’s life when we're praying for them to be blessed. If we feel they need correcting, protecting, convicting or forgiving, chances are we have an agenda that we should share with them directly and honestly. Say your piece, in love, without expecting a response, and then turn it over to God. You’ve done what you can. But don’t ask God or anyone else to be your messenger when you’ve got something to say.
When we’re able to be clear and direct with one another, we create freedom. Often we find our relationship with God becomes clearer too. And then we're better able to listen.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-15-25 - Deep Listening
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I aspire to be a good listener – it doesn’t come naturally, as so often there is something I want to say. (Five days a week, even!) Listening well is an attribute demonstrated by Mary of Bethany, as we see when Jesus comes to visit the house:
Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying.
We often think of prayer as what we have to say to God, pouring out our gratitude and grumbles, our hopes and regrets. But saints and mystics throughout the centuries have pointed to Mary’s posture as the beginning of true prayer, sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to what he says.
There are a number of ways we can do that. One is by reading and chewing on his words and actions as we find them in Scripture. Taking a small chunk of Jesus’ teaching, or reading, re-reading and putting ourselves into a gospel story about him is a way we can settle our spirits and start to truly hear from him. Talking to someone else about where we're experiencing God's activity and love, and hearing their stories is another way we listen to Jesus.
And we can learn to listen in prayer. Some do that through cultivating meditation techniques like centering prayer, learning to still the chattering mind and come into a place of deep, unspoken communion with God, in which occasionally we receive words or encouragement. Those of us whose chattering rarely ebbs are hard pressed to truly quiet our minds. But we can open our imaginations to the Spirit, inviting God to make himself known through places or scenes that unfold in our mind’s eye.
For a time in my life, there was a rocky beach in Greece where I met Jesus in prayer in my imagination, and shared conversation. That was followed by a musty old English church, a chalet kind of house in the mountains, and most recently a forest glade by a pond. Go figure. I didn’t choose these “mediating” spots, as I call them. They unfolded in my mind as I prayed, and I just went with them, asking where Jesus was. Right now there is no place, just sometimes words coming to mind as I pray, that I believe come from Jesus.
Our minds might not easily become still, but we can bring our bodies into stillness by setting aside time in our day or week, and even a place in our home or office where we settle in to listen to Jesus. I’m sure he doesn’t mind when we talk – our loving God wants to hear from her children. Yet we will find our spirits expand as we learn to follow the way of Mary, and let ourselves listen deeply to that still small voice of God which is amplified in our silences.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
I aspire to be a good listener – it doesn’t come naturally, as so often there is something I want to say. (Five days a week, even!) Listening well is an attribute demonstrated by Mary of Bethany, as we see when Jesus comes to visit the house:
Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying.
We often think of prayer as what we have to say to God, pouring out our gratitude and grumbles, our hopes and regrets. But saints and mystics throughout the centuries have pointed to Mary’s posture as the beginning of true prayer, sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to what he says.
There are a number of ways we can do that. One is by reading and chewing on his words and actions as we find them in Scripture. Taking a small chunk of Jesus’ teaching, or reading, re-reading and putting ourselves into a gospel story about him is a way we can settle our spirits and start to truly hear from him. Talking to someone else about where we're experiencing God's activity and love, and hearing their stories is another way we listen to Jesus.
And we can learn to listen in prayer. Some do that through cultivating meditation techniques like centering prayer, learning to still the chattering mind and come into a place of deep, unspoken communion with God, in which occasionally we receive words or encouragement. Those of us whose chattering rarely ebbs are hard pressed to truly quiet our minds. But we can open our imaginations to the Spirit, inviting God to make himself known through places or scenes that unfold in our mind’s eye.
For a time in my life, there was a rocky beach in Greece where I met Jesus in prayer in my imagination, and shared conversation. That was followed by a musty old English church, a chalet kind of house in the mountains, and most recently a forest glade by a pond. Go figure. I didn’t choose these “mediating” spots, as I call them. They unfolded in my mind as I prayed, and I just went with them, asking where Jesus was. Right now there is no place, just sometimes words coming to mind as I pray, that I believe come from Jesus.
Our minds might not easily become still, but we can bring our bodies into stillness by setting aside time in our day or week, and even a place in our home or office where we settle in to listen to Jesus. I’m sure he doesn’t mind when we talk – our loving God wants to hear from her children. Yet we will find our spirits expand as we learn to follow the way of Mary, and let ourselves listen deeply to that still small voice of God which is amplified in our silences.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-14-25 - Hosting Jesus
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
How would you feel about hosting Jesus in your home? In many of my congregations, we’ve had a Jesus Doll, which we invite children to take home for a week at a time, asking them to record where they took Jesus, what they did, how it felt. One mother brought him back, saying, “It was very stressful! When Jenny took him to school they made her put him in her cubby all day, because it was a religious doll. At home, the dog tried to eat him, and then our Jewish neighbors came over, so we put him away… it just wasn’t a good week to have the Son of God at our house.”
Our story this week is about welcoming Jesus. Only five verses, it is packed with meaning. One of two gospel stories about dinner parties for Jesus in the home of Martha, Mary and Lazarus, it has encouraged mystics and alarmed hostesses since it was recorded. It is held up as an affirmation of the contemplative way of faith over the active; a teaching on anxiety; an exploration of devotion. And it begins with hospitality, which is where we left off in the story of the Good Samaritan: Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home.
Other accounts about this family tell us the “certain village” is Bethany and that Martha is a sister to Mary and Lazarus. In accounts in the Gospel of John she is referred to as Lazarus' sister, but Luke identifies Martha as the head of household. She is in a position to offer hospitality to Jesus and his entourage. As we will see, they are close enough friends that she can whine at him, and he gently rebuke her. It is one of the most vivid of Jesus’ friendships we see in the gospel record. And yes, welcoming the Son of God into her home causes Martha a bit of stress.
Are you aware of Jesus with you at home, or do you tend to connect with him elsewhere? Have you set aside a spot for prayer and study, a place where you sit to connect with Jesus? What if we tried it this week, settling in, inviting him to join us, seeing where the conversation went? Would you feel you had to clean up? Dress nicely? Serve something? Or would you find he was the host?
As we explore this very rich encounter between Jesus and these two sisters, I hope it will deepen our own encounters with him. In terms of the challenges it places on our priorities, it’s never a good week to have the Son of God at our house. On the other hand, his presence enriches everything else that goes on there. Invite him over. I’m pretty sure he’ll accept.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
How would you feel about hosting Jesus in your home? In many of my congregations, we’ve had a Jesus Doll, which we invite children to take home for a week at a time, asking them to record where they took Jesus, what they did, how it felt. One mother brought him back, saying, “It was very stressful! When Jenny took him to school they made her put him in her cubby all day, because it was a religious doll. At home, the dog tried to eat him, and then our Jewish neighbors came over, so we put him away… it just wasn’t a good week to have the Son of God at our house.”
Our story this week is about welcoming Jesus. Only five verses, it is packed with meaning. One of two gospel stories about dinner parties for Jesus in the home of Martha, Mary and Lazarus, it has encouraged mystics and alarmed hostesses since it was recorded. It is held up as an affirmation of the contemplative way of faith over the active; a teaching on anxiety; an exploration of devotion. And it begins with hospitality, which is where we left off in the story of the Good Samaritan: Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home.
Other accounts about this family tell us the “certain village” is Bethany and that Martha is a sister to Mary and Lazarus. In accounts in the Gospel of John she is referred to as Lazarus' sister, but Luke identifies Martha as the head of household. She is in a position to offer hospitality to Jesus and his entourage. As we will see, they are close enough friends that she can whine at him, and he gently rebuke her. It is one of the most vivid of Jesus’ friendships we see in the gospel record. And yes, welcoming the Son of God into her home causes Martha a bit of stress.
Are you aware of Jesus with you at home, or do you tend to connect with him elsewhere? Have you set aside a spot for prayer and study, a place where you sit to connect with Jesus? What if we tried it this week, settling in, inviting him to join us, seeing where the conversation went? Would you feel you had to clean up? Dress nicely? Serve something? Or would you find he was the host?
As we explore this very rich encounter between Jesus and these two sisters, I hope it will deepen our own encounters with him. In terms of the challenges it places on our priorities, it’s never a good week to have the Son of God at our house. On the other hand, his presence enriches everything else that goes on there. Invite him over. I’m pretty sure he’ll accept.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-11-25 - Neighbors To the World
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
American foreign policy has tacked between internationalism and nationalism. Our current government is on the extreme nationalist end of that spectrum, quickly upending relationships with allies, business partners and recipients of aid. This administration wields the language of Christian faith – but how do its policies square with Jesus’ teachings and example, especially as communicated in the parable we are contemplating this week?
At the end of Jesus’ story, he asks the lawyer, “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy,”’ Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
We live in a world in which whole communities, even countries can fall into the hands of robbers. We share a history in which too often we have been – or still are – the robbers. We also share a rich legacy of showing mercy and providing help to those who are injured.
How might we as nations, and as individuals, more fully live into the character of this outsider who put himself at risk to reclaim, restore and renew the one fallen by the wayside? After all, that is what God has done for us. Might we “go and do likewise?”
At the heart of it lies the truth that until we are all free and equal in opportunity, security, and peace, none of us is free. Until we are willing to “respect the dignity of every human being,” as our baptismal covenant asks us to promise, we will let discord and mistrust rule us rather than the Law of Love. Just like all three of the passersby in Jesus’ story, each one of us has the choice when we see someone in pain – or a community or nation in the grip of tyranny or corruption – to stop or walk on, engage or condemn, bring healing or leave someone to die. How will we exercise the choices we do have?
The opportunities to do so are coming thick and fast.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
American foreign policy has tacked between internationalism and nationalism. Our current government is on the extreme nationalist end of that spectrum, quickly upending relationships with allies, business partners and recipients of aid. This administration wields the language of Christian faith – but how do its policies square with Jesus’ teachings and example, especially as communicated in the parable we are contemplating this week?
At the end of Jesus’ story, he asks the lawyer, “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy,”’ Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
We live in a world in which whole communities, even countries can fall into the hands of robbers. We share a history in which too often we have been – or still are – the robbers. We also share a rich legacy of showing mercy and providing help to those who are injured.
How might we as nations, and as individuals, more fully live into the character of this outsider who put himself at risk to reclaim, restore and renew the one fallen by the wayside? After all, that is what God has done for us. Might we “go and do likewise?”
At the heart of it lies the truth that until we are all free and equal in opportunity, security, and peace, none of us is free. Until we are willing to “respect the dignity of every human being,” as our baptismal covenant asks us to promise, we will let discord and mistrust rule us rather than the Law of Love. Just like all three of the passersby in Jesus’ story, each one of us has the choice when we see someone in pain – or a community or nation in the grip of tyranny or corruption – to stop or walk on, engage or condemn, bring healing or leave someone to die. How will we exercise the choices we do have?
The opportunities to do so are coming thick and fast.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-10-25 - The Extra Mile
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
"Who is my neighbor?" That’s the question that launches Jesus’ story about a man beaten, robbed and nearly killed on the Jerusalem-Jericho road, and the person who helped him. The lawyer asking the question wondered what neighbors he was supposed to help. In his answer, Jesus delivered a twist: it’s not so much who you are to be neighbor to, as what kind of neighbor you are. “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The neighbor is the one who sees, stops, investigates, helps, and ensures restoration.
I believe the mission of God is to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness in Christ. This is what we see the Samaritan man do in Jesus’ story: But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.”
Being a neighbor goes beyond taking in the mail or watering the plants, beyond visiting the sick or texting a donation in times of natural disasters, beyond meeting needs to effecting transformation. Being a neighbor means being there for the long haul, arranging for restoration of health, status and dignity. The Samaritan, most likely a merchant traveling to Jericho to market his goods, used his own oil and wine to heal the wounds (oil can be a symbol of the Holy Spirit; wine the healing blood of Jesus…). He gave up his ride to the wounded man and walked next to his donkey, his slower pace now putting him at greater risk of bandits. He brought the man to a place of hospitality for rest and recovery, paid for his care and arranged for the future. In so doing, he expanded the circle of healing and assured recompense for his collaborators.
When have you experienced someone giving you that gift of unstinting love and care, going deep and long? When have you been moved to do that for someone else, maybe someone going through a loss or chemotherapy or a protracted life crisis? One of my previous parishioners began to visit a homeless man in a downtown park several times a week, developing a relationship, listening to his stories, providing when he allowed her to. She was being a neighbor the way Jesus meant it.
I don’t think God wants us to go the extra mile with gritted teeth – God wants us to feel moved to offer it freely when we do. None of us can give like that to everyone – yet if more of us approached the world as this Samaritan man did, maybe everyone would be helped and everyone would be helping.
I wish we could hear this story in the words of this man who was victimized and then restored through the love of a perfect stranger. I wonder who he went on to help into wholeness? I pray that you and I will encounter many – and be – perfect strangers of healing love.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
"Who is my neighbor?" That’s the question that launches Jesus’ story about a man beaten, robbed and nearly killed on the Jerusalem-Jericho road, and the person who helped him. The lawyer asking the question wondered what neighbors he was supposed to help. In his answer, Jesus delivered a twist: it’s not so much who you are to be neighbor to, as what kind of neighbor you are. “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The neighbor is the one who sees, stops, investigates, helps, and ensures restoration.
I believe the mission of God is to reclaim, restore and renew all of creation to wholeness in Christ. This is what we see the Samaritan man do in Jesus’ story: But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.”
Being a neighbor goes beyond taking in the mail or watering the plants, beyond visiting the sick or texting a donation in times of natural disasters, beyond meeting needs to effecting transformation. Being a neighbor means being there for the long haul, arranging for restoration of health, status and dignity. The Samaritan, most likely a merchant traveling to Jericho to market his goods, used his own oil and wine to heal the wounds (oil can be a symbol of the Holy Spirit; wine the healing blood of Jesus…). He gave up his ride to the wounded man and walked next to his donkey, his slower pace now putting him at greater risk of bandits. He brought the man to a place of hospitality for rest and recovery, paid for his care and arranged for the future. In so doing, he expanded the circle of healing and assured recompense for his collaborators.
When have you experienced someone giving you that gift of unstinting love and care, going deep and long? When have you been moved to do that for someone else, maybe someone going through a loss or chemotherapy or a protracted life crisis? One of my previous parishioners began to visit a homeless man in a downtown park several times a week, developing a relationship, listening to his stories, providing when he allowed her to. She was being a neighbor the way Jesus meant it.
I don’t think God wants us to go the extra mile with gritted teeth – God wants us to feel moved to offer it freely when we do. None of us can give like that to everyone – yet if more of us approached the world as this Samaritan man did, maybe everyone would be helped and everyone would be helping.
I wish we could hear this story in the words of this man who was victimized and then restored through the love of a perfect stranger. I wonder who he went on to help into wholeness? I pray that you and I will encounter many – and be – perfect strangers of healing love.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-9-25 - Walk On By?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
You know the expression, “a world of hurt.” That is where we live, often surrounded by suffering and pain, deprivation and injustice. And thanks to global communications and interconnectedness, we are confronted daily by the immediacy of suffering the world over, images of refugees and starving children as urgent to us as homeless persons in our communities. Don’t we have to pass some of it by?
Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity.”
The priest and the Levite are the bad guys of the story (after the robbers, of course…). We expect more of religious leaders than we do of ordinary folk, which makes their indifference to the man’s suffering even worse in our eyes. We might spare them some sympathy: as religious leaders dedicated to temple worship, they each had a duty to maintain ritual purity, which would have been violated by coming into contact with a dead person. For all they knew, this man was beyond help. And perhaps they had schedules to keep and tasks to maintain, which is often what keeps us from stopping and responding.
What is radical in Jesus’ story is who he places in the role of hero: a Samaritan, the wrong sort of person from the perspective of Jesus’ Jewish listeners. And why does the Samaritan man stop to check out the situation? He was moved with pity.
We live our days in the tension of competing claims, conflicting responses. Our compassion may often be stirred, yet we are also caught by the often delightful demands of work and family, and the need to maintain some balance in life. People who stop and give all the time often burn out or cheat their families of their best selves. So when do we stop, and when do we walk on?
We can learn to notice when we are moved by compassion or a desire to help. When you feel these things in response to a person in need, offer that reaction in prayer and ask God: "Are you inviting me to offer myself in this situation? Are you up to something that you’d like me to participate in? What shall I offer? What shall I hold back?" Make it a prayer conversation, not your decision alone.
If we approach this parable only from the standpoint of ethics, only as the ones who might help, forgetting that we also are ones who have been spiritually left for dead, for whom Jesus gave everything to reclaim, restore and renew us to wholeness, we miss the point. When we remember how much we have received, it helps us know when and how to give.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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 know the expression, “a world of hurt.” That is where we live, often surrounded by suffering and pain, deprivation and injustice. And thanks to global communications and interconnectedness, we are confronted daily by the immediacy of suffering the world over, images of refugees and starving children as urgent to us as homeless persons in our communities. Don’t we have to pass some of it by?
Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while travelling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity.”
The priest and the Levite are the bad guys of the story (after the robbers, of course…). We expect more of religious leaders than we do of ordinary folk, which makes their indifference to the man’s suffering even worse in our eyes. We might spare them some sympathy: as religious leaders dedicated to temple worship, they each had a duty to maintain ritual purity, which would have been violated by coming into contact with a dead person. For all they knew, this man was beyond help. And perhaps they had schedules to keep and tasks to maintain, which is often what keeps us from stopping and responding.
What is radical in Jesus’ story is who he places in the role of hero: a Samaritan, the wrong sort of person from the perspective of Jesus’ Jewish listeners. And why does the Samaritan man stop to check out the situation? He was moved with pity.
We live our days in the tension of competing claims, conflicting responses. Our compassion may often be stirred, yet we are also caught by the often delightful demands of work and family, and the need to maintain some balance in life. People who stop and give all the time often burn out or cheat their families of their best selves. So when do we stop, and when do we walk on?
We can learn to notice when we are moved by compassion or a desire to help. When you feel these things in response to a person in need, offer that reaction in prayer and ask God: "Are you inviting me to offer myself in this situation? Are you up to something that you’d like me to participate in? What shall I offer? What shall I hold back?" Make it a prayer conversation, not your decision alone.
If we approach this parable only from the standpoint of ethics, only as the ones who might help, forgetting that we also are ones who have been spiritually left for dead, for whom Jesus gave everything to reclaim, restore and renew us to wholeness, we miss the point. When we remember how much we have received, it helps us know when and how to give.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-8-25 - Neighbors
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
It is no surprise that Jesus’ interlocutor in this week's gospel story is identified as a lawyer – first thing he does is look for the loophole. That’s no diss on lawyers – it’s what they’re paid to do. And it’s human nature to categorize and define, to narrow the field so that we can manage things. It can also keep us from living into the heart of God’s commandments. But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead.”
What do you suppose the man was hoping to hear? "Your neighbor is the person who looks like you? Who shares your ethnicity? Your family heritage? National identity? Your lifestyle? Socio-economic bracket?" That’s how some people define “neighbor,” so they can justify directing their resources to their own kind. That is how the bulk of the wealth in the United States has ended up in the bank accounts of a relatively small percentage of the population, while we have a serious problem with poverty and hunger.
In reply, Jesus tells a story about a man who was beaten, robbed and left for dead on a notoriously dangerous road. I wonder what the lawyer thought about that response to his question. “Is he saying my neighbor is anyone who is victimized? How extensive is my obligation to such folks? He made the foolish choice to do business on that road, and to go alone… If such a man is my neighbor, where does it stop? Where can I draw the line and still be in God’s will?”
As we will see, a few people in the story draw the line rather close, and one seems not to draw one at all, giving well beyond expectations. But what about us? How do we decide who we will help and how much? There is no right or wrong answer – it’s just good for us to know how we define neighbors, and what criteria we use to evaluate whether or when to offer help. Some people will give generously to total strangers in the event of a natural disaster, and refuse all help to the poor in their own towns. We all approach it differently.
The point of examining ourselves on this question is not to instill guilt or even to suggest guidelines. The point is to become more aware of our default positions, and invite the Holy Spirit into our decision-making processes. You tell God who you think your neighbor is, and is not; then ask God to tell you who God thinks your neighbor is.
Our responses will likely still have limits according to our tendencies and our capacity for giving. I hope that as we explore this rich story, though, we will become freed from self-imposed limits, and expand our vision of what it means to have and to be a neighbor.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
It is no surprise that Jesus’ interlocutor in this week's gospel story is identified as a lawyer – first thing he does is look for the loophole. That’s no diss on lawyers – it’s what they’re paid to do. And it’s human nature to categorize and define, to narrow the field so that we can manage things. It can also keep us from living into the heart of God’s commandments. But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead.”
What do you suppose the man was hoping to hear? "Your neighbor is the person who looks like you? Who shares your ethnicity? Your family heritage? National identity? Your lifestyle? Socio-economic bracket?" That’s how some people define “neighbor,” so they can justify directing their resources to their own kind. That is how the bulk of the wealth in the United States has ended up in the bank accounts of a relatively small percentage of the population, while we have a serious problem with poverty and hunger.
In reply, Jesus tells a story about a man who was beaten, robbed and left for dead on a notoriously dangerous road. I wonder what the lawyer thought about that response to his question. “Is he saying my neighbor is anyone who is victimized? How extensive is my obligation to such folks? He made the foolish choice to do business on that road, and to go alone… If such a man is my neighbor, where does it stop? Where can I draw the line and still be in God’s will?”
As we will see, a few people in the story draw the line rather close, and one seems not to draw one at all, giving well beyond expectations. But what about us? How do we decide who we will help and how much? There is no right or wrong answer – it’s just good for us to know how we define neighbors, and what criteria we use to evaluate whether or when to offer help. Some people will give generously to total strangers in the event of a natural disaster, and refuse all help to the poor in their own towns. We all approach it differently.
The point of examining ourselves on this question is not to instill guilt or even to suggest guidelines. The point is to become more aware of our default positions, and invite the Holy Spirit into our decision-making processes. You tell God who you think your neighbor is, and is not; then ask God to tell you who God thinks your neighbor is.
Our responses will likely still have limits according to our tendencies and our capacity for giving. I hope that as we explore this rich story, though, we will become freed from self-imposed limits, and expand our vision of what it means to have and to be a neighbor.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-7-25 - Religion or Relationship?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This coming Sunday we get one of the most famous of all of Jesus’ parables, the one he tells in response to the lawyer who asks, “Who is my neighbor?” This parable, known as “The Good Samaritan,” is familiar to many of us. Exploring it from different angles this week gives us a chance to hone in on details we don’t always notice.
One of these is the context in which Jesus tells this story: a conversation he has with a lawyer who wants to test his knowledge and holiness. “Lawyer” probably means more a scholar of the law, such as a Pharisee, than someone practicing in the courts, and the reference to testing Jesus suggests this was a person of some authority. Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”
Clearly, this gentleman knows the law well, for he cites not only the commonly quoted portion of the Shema, “You shall love the Lord your God…” but also a lesser injunction buried in Leviticus 19, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” which Jesus himself had elevated as a core commandment. Jesus commends the correctness of his answer, though in his story he will challenge him (and us) on just how complicated it can be to fulfill these words. What puzzles me, though, is the man’s question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Inheritance is not earned or merited, nor can it be secured on one’s own timetable. It is the free gift of one who has departed this human life, and wishes to leave her or his goods to others. Inheritance is a function of relationship, not something we work for. Embedded in this question lies the tension that has dogged Christianity since before it was a religion – the tug of war between God’s unmerited grace and our efforts to earn it.
Judaism in Jesus’ time was dominated by leaders who were experts at trying to earn God’s favor through fidelity to the Law. The Law in itself was holy, a blessing, a revelation of God. The ways it became an instrument of judgment rather than love had caused it to become more oppressive than life-giving. This is a constant theme of Jesus’ teaching and way of life. He was ever calling people from the rigors of religion into the refreshment of relationship with their heavenly Father, the God who draws so near to his people.
It seems to be human nature to veer back into religion, which is something we feel we can control. The Holy Spirit exerts a contrary pull on us, drawing us back to God in relationship. We help or hinder that movement by our intentions, as we recognize when we’re trying to earn our own inheritance and yield once again to the transforming power of God’s grace.
That grace is an inheritance which is ours by virtue of our adoption into the family of God. It is a trust fund of power and love and forgiveness and healing to which we already have access. And as we begin to draw on that Life, we often become better neighbors.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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 the most famous of all of Jesus’ parables, the one he tells in response to the lawyer who asks, “Who is my neighbor?” This parable, known as “The Good Samaritan,” is familiar to many of us. Exploring it from different angles this week gives us a chance to hone in on details we don’t always notice.
One of these is the context in which Jesus tells this story: a conversation he has with a lawyer who wants to test his knowledge and holiness. “Lawyer” probably means more a scholar of the law, such as a Pharisee, than someone practicing in the courts, and the reference to testing Jesus suggests this was a person of some authority. Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”
Clearly, this gentleman knows the law well, for he cites not only the commonly quoted portion of the Shema, “You shall love the Lord your God…” but also a lesser injunction buried in Leviticus 19, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” which Jesus himself had elevated as a core commandment. Jesus commends the correctness of his answer, though in his story he will challenge him (and us) on just how complicated it can be to fulfill these words. What puzzles me, though, is the man’s question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Inheritance is not earned or merited, nor can it be secured on one’s own timetable. It is the free gift of one who has departed this human life, and wishes to leave her or his goods to others. Inheritance is a function of relationship, not something we work for. Embedded in this question lies the tension that has dogged Christianity since before it was a religion – the tug of war between God’s unmerited grace and our efforts to earn it.
Judaism in Jesus’ time was dominated by leaders who were experts at trying to earn God’s favor through fidelity to the Law. The Law in itself was holy, a blessing, a revelation of God. The ways it became an instrument of judgment rather than love had caused it to become more oppressive than life-giving. This is a constant theme of Jesus’ teaching and way of life. He was ever calling people from the rigors of religion into the refreshment of relationship with their heavenly Father, the God who draws so near to his people.
It seems to be human nature to veer back into religion, which is something we feel we can control. The Holy Spirit exerts a contrary pull on us, drawing us back to God in relationship. We help or hinder that movement by our intentions, as we recognize when we’re trying to earn our own inheritance and yield once again to the transforming power of God’s grace.
That grace is an inheritance which is ours by virtue of our adoption into the family of God. It is a trust fund of power and love and forgiveness and healing to which we already have access. And as we begin to draw on that Life, we often become better neighbors.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-4-25 - Exulting
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
There is no joy quite like the joy we get when we're filled to the brim with the Holy Spirt as we engage in some ministry and the outcomes are strong and good. I once led a three-day spiritual renewal weekend, after six months of preparation. The team put in 18-hour days with little down time - but I was so juiced on the Holy Spirit as I saw people experiencing God's love in new ways, I didn't even drink coffee the whole weekend. We think living by faith, walking in radical trust is difficult. But so often when we actually do it, we are blitzed by such euphoria, it’s a wonder we don’t make more of a habit of it. That seems to have been the experience of the seventy disciples Jesus sent out:
The seventy returned with joy, saying, “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” He said to them, “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”
The disciples exulted not only because they’d had human success. It was that they had felt the spiritual power Jesus had promised would be theirs. They had been able to exercise authority over demons and diseases, to navigate the welcome and unwelcome of different towns and households. And Jesus affirmed their sense. “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning” might have been his statement about a cosmic past event, or his recognition that his power was now working through his followers, and that spelled the end for the reign of evil and its master.
But he is also quick to say that such power and euphoria should not be the root of our joy – our inclusion in God’s realm for all eternity is where our sense of well-being should rest. When we are rooted in that identity, as God’s chosen, delighted-in daughters and sons, we are paradoxically better able to take those leaps of faith in ministry that bring about more euphoria. As we step out from that belovedness to walk in Jesus’ name into places we cannot yet know, relying on resources we cannot yet see, we receive more gifts that God wants to give us. We receive the Spirit in such measure, so much peace and love and joy and purpose, we can’t wait to do more.
And when we are focused on ensuring that everyone knows they are included in God’s peace and joy, love and justice, we really find cause to exult. Until we are all free and equal in opportunity, security, and peace, none of us is free. Until we are willing to “respect the dignity of every human being,” as our baptismal covenant asks us to promise, we will let discord and mistrust rule us rather than the Law of Love.
Freedom is God's desire for us - and for all our fellow citizens, and for all creation. Can we make it our first priority to set others free to thrive; to embrace our inter-dependence in order to celebrate our independence?
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
There is no joy quite like the joy we get when we're filled to the brim with the Holy Spirt as we engage in some ministry and the outcomes are strong and good. I once led a three-day spiritual renewal weekend, after six months of preparation. The team put in 18-hour days with little down time - but I was so juiced on the Holy Spirit as I saw people experiencing God's love in new ways, I didn't even drink coffee the whole weekend. We think living by faith, walking in radical trust is difficult. But so often when we actually do it, we are blitzed by such euphoria, it’s a wonder we don’t make more of a habit of it. That seems to have been the experience of the seventy disciples Jesus sent out:
The seventy returned with joy, saying, “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” He said to them, “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”
The disciples exulted not only because they’d had human success. It was that they had felt the spiritual power Jesus had promised would be theirs. They had been able to exercise authority over demons and diseases, to navigate the welcome and unwelcome of different towns and households. And Jesus affirmed their sense. “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning” might have been his statement about a cosmic past event, or his recognition that his power was now working through his followers, and that spelled the end for the reign of evil and its master.
But he is also quick to say that such power and euphoria should not be the root of our joy – our inclusion in God’s realm for all eternity is where our sense of well-being should rest. When we are rooted in that identity, as God’s chosen, delighted-in daughters and sons, we are paradoxically better able to take those leaps of faith in ministry that bring about more euphoria. As we step out from that belovedness to walk in Jesus’ name into places we cannot yet know, relying on resources we cannot yet see, we receive more gifts that God wants to give us. We receive the Spirit in such measure, so much peace and love and joy and purpose, we can’t wait to do more.
And when we are focused on ensuring that everyone knows they are included in God’s peace and joy, love and justice, we really find cause to exult. Until we are all free and equal in opportunity, security, and peace, none of us is free. Until we are willing to “respect the dignity of every human being,” as our baptismal covenant asks us to promise, we will let discord and mistrust rule us rather than the Law of Love.
Freedom is God's desire for us - and for all our fellow citizens, and for all creation. Can we make it our first priority to set others free to thrive; to embrace our inter-dependence in order to celebrate our independence?
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-3-25 - Stay Put and Receive
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As a Foreign Service family, mine moved a lot. Someone once gave my mother an inspirational poster with the words, “Bloom Where You Planted,” which she amended to read, “Bloom Where You Are Trans-Planted.” I think of that poster when I read Jesus’ instructions to his followers as they head out to proclaim the Good News and heal the sick: “Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’”
Remember, Jesus has already told them to go without any luggage, money or protection. They are to rely on hospitality offered to them. They are not to pick and choose, trying out the beds or reviewing the menu before selecting a place to stay. Wherever they land, they are to remain until they leave that town and go to the next.
How does this advice relate to us in our contexts and ministries? There is counsel here to let others give to us, not go looking for the best deal or seeing what we can arrange for ourselves. Receiving hospitality is hard for many of us, wired as we are to give – which is also a way of staying in control. Many Episcopal churches have embraced the concept of “radical hospitality,” signaling that all are welcome, whether or not they know our secret handshakes, or what (or where…) an undercroft is. Jesus invites us to an even more challenging task: to be “radical guests,” just appreciating what is offered us, not even trying to return the favor.
This teaching is also about staying focused on our mission in God’s life. Picking and choosing the places we want to stay and what we want to eat and how we want to schedule our days takes energy and attention that might be better directed toward being open to the leading of the Spirit and where we see God-energy around us. I just came back from a house-hunting trip, and as always, I found the Holy Spirit was the best travel agent, arranging blessings I could not have planned or anticipated.
Above all we are called to live in a mode of radical trust as followers of the One who was always on the move, always eating at the tables of others or on what his supporters could rustle up. That doesn’t mean we can never host or give; it just means we have to increase our capacity to receive if we truly want to be filled with the love and grace that only God can give.
Only as we are filled with the full measure of God-Life can we proclaim “The kingdom of God has come near to you,” because we’re bringing it. Only as we trust in God’s provision can we bloom where we are planted, at least until God transplants us somewhere else.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
As a Foreign Service family, mine moved a lot. Someone once gave my mother an inspirational poster with the words, “Bloom Where You Planted,” which she amended to read, “Bloom Where You Are Trans-Planted.” I think of that poster when I read Jesus’ instructions to his followers as they head out to proclaim the Good News and heal the sick: “Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’”
Remember, Jesus has already told them to go without any luggage, money or protection. They are to rely on hospitality offered to them. They are not to pick and choose, trying out the beds or reviewing the menu before selecting a place to stay. Wherever they land, they are to remain until they leave that town and go to the next.
How does this advice relate to us in our contexts and ministries? There is counsel here to let others give to us, not go looking for the best deal or seeing what we can arrange for ourselves. Receiving hospitality is hard for many of us, wired as we are to give – which is also a way of staying in control. Many Episcopal churches have embraced the concept of “radical hospitality,” signaling that all are welcome, whether or not they know our secret handshakes, or what (or where…) an undercroft is. Jesus invites us to an even more challenging task: to be “radical guests,” just appreciating what is offered us, not even trying to return the favor.
This teaching is also about staying focused on our mission in God’s life. Picking and choosing the places we want to stay and what we want to eat and how we want to schedule our days takes energy and attention that might be better directed toward being open to the leading of the Spirit and where we see God-energy around us. I just came back from a house-hunting trip, and as always, I found the Holy Spirit was the best travel agent, arranging blessings I could not have planned or anticipated.
Above all we are called to live in a mode of radical trust as followers of the One who was always on the move, always eating at the tables of others or on what his supporters could rustle up. That doesn’t mean we can never host or give; it just means we have to increase our capacity to receive if we truly want to be filled with the love and grace that only God can give.
Only as we are filled with the full measure of God-Life can we proclaim “The kingdom of God has come near to you,” because we’re bringing it. Only as we trust in God’s provision can we bloom where we are planted, at least until God transplants us somewhere else.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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.
7-2-25 - Boomerang Peace
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I tend to think of peace as a static thing; I associate it with stillness, stability, rootedness. The way Jesus describes peace, though, it is dynamic, bouncing from person to person, house to house, community to community. This peace sounds downright restless: “Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’ And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you.”
What is the peace of God? It is power and purpose and presence. Different from ordinary human peace, the peace of God is strong as iron, filling us unexpectedly, able to keep us rooted in times of anxiety or conflict. As I have grown in faith, I’ve often been surprised by the peace I’ve experienced; sometimes I just can’t find the anxiety I expect to be there. The peace of God is pure gift – Paul says it is a gift that comes when we make our petitions known to God with thanksgiving. (Philippians 4).
Jesus goes even further, speaking of peace as a force that can be directed to another person. The idea of saying, “Peace to you,” or “Peace to this house” when we encounter another person, and really meaning it – speaking it as a command to heavenly powers – could be world-changing. What if, instead of “Hello” we said, “Peace” – which, after all, is what the greeting “Shalom” or “Salaam” means. And what if, as we were saying it, we prayed that God would fill that person with the peace we feel? “Peace” to institutions we deal with. "Peace" to Congress. “Peace” on the highway, train, in the grocery store, at family dinner. Really sharing our peace at church instead of just saying hi.
That’s all we would need to do. If the person had no interest in the peace we have to give, it would bounce back to us. But if we don’t even offer it, someone who really needs God’s peace might miss out.
God’s peace becomes part of us, something we can share, the same way we share our intellect, our compassion, our money and time. We could give our peace a shape or color so we can become more conscious about sending it to others. Like any good boomerang, it will always come back to us.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
I tend to think of peace as a static thing; I associate it with stillness, stability, rootedness. The way Jesus describes peace, though, it is dynamic, bouncing from person to person, house to house, community to community. This peace sounds downright restless: “Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’ And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you.”
What is the peace of God? It is power and purpose and presence. Different from ordinary human peace, the peace of God is strong as iron, filling us unexpectedly, able to keep us rooted in times of anxiety or conflict. As I have grown in faith, I’ve often been surprised by the peace I’ve experienced; sometimes I just can’t find the anxiety I expect to be there. The peace of God is pure gift – Paul says it is a gift that comes when we make our petitions known to God with thanksgiving. (Philippians 4).
Jesus goes even further, speaking of peace as a force that can be directed to another person. The idea of saying, “Peace to you,” or “Peace to this house” when we encounter another person, and really meaning it – speaking it as a command to heavenly powers – could be world-changing. What if, instead of “Hello” we said, “Peace” – which, after all, is what the greeting “Shalom” or “Salaam” means. And what if, as we were saying it, we prayed that God would fill that person with the peace we feel? “Peace” to institutions we deal with. "Peace" to Congress. “Peace” on the highway, train, in the grocery store, at family dinner. Really sharing our peace at church instead of just saying hi.
That’s all we would need to do. If the person had no interest in the peace we have to give, it would bounce back to us. But if we don’t even offer it, someone who really needs God’s peace might miss out.
God’s peace becomes part of us, something we can share, the same way we share our intellect, our compassion, our money and time. We could give our peace a shape or color so we can become more conscious about sending it to others. Like any good boomerang, it will always come back to us.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. 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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