You can listen to this reflection here. Today's gospel reading is here.
How often did she doubt during those months of pregnancy, wonder if she’d dreamt that story of the angel and his grand promises about the baby growing in her? But then, how did that baby get there? She would not have forgotten that.. And yes, there was confirmation when she visited her cousin Elizabeth and found the aged woman in the pink of pregnancy. But even that might be humanly possible… And then, to learn that Joseph had had dreams which matched what the angel had told her...
Even so, could this really be a movement of God, a movement to save the world, through her? That seemed too crazy to fathom. Until now. Until that gift came to pass, that deliverer delivered from her own body, swaddled and laid to sleep in a feeding trough, the hay keeping him warm. And then, just as she is recovering from labor, perhaps leaning against Joseph as in this painting (“The Nativity” by Gari Melchers, 1891*)… in burst a bunch of shepherds bearing tales of angelic visitations, with those words again, “To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord."
A sign for the shepherds, yes, and also for Joseph and Mary. Luke tells us that, while the shepherds went out and spread the amazing story, “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”
What did Mary ponder? Once, in prayer, I sensed an encounter with her, a gracious older woman in a blue-green knit turtleneck dress. She said a few things as I asked her questions: “I was not all that good or all that brave. I was a bit of a flirt in my day – and had a sharp tongue. I was funny. Boy, that (Jesus’ birth, etc.) grew me up in a hurry. Oh, you can believe what you like about all the stories. I’ll just say it was hard. It was rough. I felt very, very alone – didn’t know Joseph well enough to trust him yet."
And the sword that the elder Simeon spoke of, when they presented Jesus in the temple? “A sword pierces the heart of every mother,” she said. “From the moment your child is born, he is moving toward independence, which is a kind of death for you. He is moving toward his death."
She added, “I couldn’t worship him in life. How do you worship one whose diapers you’ve changed? No, he was always my son in this life. It wasn’t until after my death that I could worship him.” True for all of us, really...
Were Mary’s ponderings so different from those of any new mother? The stakes were higher, perhaps – but also the knowledge that, if this truly was a movement of God, then God would continue to be the mover. I hope she had that confidence, and that it bore her through the rough times. I hope that for us, as well, as we bear Christ’s presence and light into this world. God sends signs for us, too.
*Many thanks to David Anderson, who introduced me to this painting in his excellent blog Finding Your Soul on Substack.
© 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.
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
12-29-25 - How Did We Hear This Story?
You can listen to this reflection here. Today's gospel passage is here.
There are so many people to reflect on in our Christmas story. Today let's look at these shepherds, who felt compelled to check out the tale told them by the heavenly messengers that night of Jesus’ birth: So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.
“When they saw this, they made known…and all who heard it were amazed...” Who wouldn’t be amazed! It’s a great story, even filtered through centuries and translations; imagine hearing it from an eyewitness. That’s most likely how the narratives of Jesus’ birth came into circulation among his early followers.
How did Luke, a Greek follower of Christ from Philippi (or so we surmise from his Acts of the Apostles), hear about those shepherds? Did Mary tell the tales later in life, after Jesus’ death and resurrection, living near Ephesus in what is now Turkey (as tradition maintains), in the care of the disciple John? Or did folks hear them from the shepherds themselves, and pass along the tale, one person to another, one town to the next, perhaps embellishing but getting the main details right?
How did Luke, a Greek follower of Christ from Philippi (or so we surmise from his Acts of the Apostles), hear about those shepherds? Did Mary tell the tales later in life, after Jesus’ death and resurrection, living near Ephesus in what is now Turkey, in the care of the disciple John? Or did folks hear them from the shepherds themselves, and pass along the tale, one person to another, one town to the next, perhaps embellishing but getting the main details right?
There are people who read about Jesus in the bible and in books and come to believe. But more often, faith is transmitted person to person, through stories of encounter. Our stories may not feel as dramatic as the one those shepherds must have told, but I bet each one of us has experienced God in some way that made a difference to us. Chances are our stories will make a difference to the people with whom we choose to share them. Reactions might vary, but at the least we will provide one more data point that one day might tip the scales toward faith. We can never know what will happen, only that our God-stories come with an imperative to be shared.
When have you most recently or most vividly encountered the presence or peace or power of God? Bring that to mind. Now, who might want to hear that story? Who might be amazed at what you make known to them of Jesus?
© 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 are so many people to reflect on in our Christmas story. Today let's look at these shepherds, who felt compelled to check out the tale told them by the heavenly messengers that night of Jesus’ birth: So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.
“When they saw this, they made known…and all who heard it were amazed...” Who wouldn’t be amazed! It’s a great story, even filtered through centuries and translations; imagine hearing it from an eyewitness. That’s most likely how the narratives of Jesus’ birth came into circulation among his early followers.
How did Luke, a Greek follower of Christ from Philippi (or so we surmise from his Acts of the Apostles), hear about those shepherds? Did Mary tell the tales later in life, after Jesus’ death and resurrection, living near Ephesus in what is now Turkey (as tradition maintains), in the care of the disciple John? Or did folks hear them from the shepherds themselves, and pass along the tale, one person to another, one town to the next, perhaps embellishing but getting the main details right?
How did Luke, a Greek follower of Christ from Philippi (or so we surmise from his Acts of the Apostles), hear about those shepherds? Did Mary tell the tales later in life, after Jesus’ death and resurrection, living near Ephesus in what is now Turkey, in the care of the disciple John? Or did folks hear them from the shepherds themselves, and pass along the tale, one person to another, one town to the next, perhaps embellishing but getting the main details right?
There are people who read about Jesus in the bible and in books and come to believe. But more often, faith is transmitted person to person, through stories of encounter. Our stories may not feel as dramatic as the one those shepherds must have told, but I bet each one of us has experienced God in some way that made a difference to us. Chances are our stories will make a difference to the people with whom we choose to share them. Reactions might vary, but at the least we will provide one more data point that one day might tip the scales toward faith. We can never know what will happen, only that our God-stories come with an imperative to be shared.
When have you most recently or most vividly encountered the presence or peace or power of God? Bring that to mind. Now, who might want to hear that story? Who might be amazed at what you make known to them of Jesus?
© 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.
12-26-25 - A Child For Us
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
How do you take your theology? Straight up or with a twist? Abstract or concrete? Philosophy or story? The gospels are flexible enough to incorporate many learning styles.
On Christmas Eve, we are steeped in story, personal and intimate, sweeping and glorious, each element a rich vein of symbol and language to speak of how much God loves us. But this coming Sunday, we give way to the Gospel of John. The way he tells the story, and the way the prophets foretold it can be more abstract. John begins: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
Right off the bat, we are invited to suspend our literal mindedness (“how can something be with God and be God?”) and enter a swirl of words that convey a truth. What does “Word” mean? Most likely “logos,” translated as “word,” means something closer to “mind” or the “primal thought” of God. Does that make it more or less confusing?
That first paragraph tells the whole story – of what was before we were, of creation, of life and light, and light overcoming darkness. That is what is promised in the prophecy from Isaiah often read on Christmas: "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness— on them light has shined."
This great light, the prophet says, will shake up the nations and put an end to war – "For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire."
And who will bring about this world transformation? A child. An infant with the weight of the world on his shoulders: "For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders..."
And from John again: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”
This Son of God is a son given to us. Entrusted to humanity. Imagine. We wouldn't have known to ask for a child – God's people asked for a rescue mission, a savior, a bringer of justice, maybe a healer. Who would have known that this One would have to be one we could have relationship with?
The story of God, so far away, so holy, so “other,” moving into our neighborhood and settling down so that we can draw near – that’s a story that never gets old. It is hard to convey it as Good News to a people for whom it has become hum-drum, and to others for whom “God” is entirely irrelevant, but I believe it is the heart of the gift Christians have for the world. I will continue to try to get inside that mystery and discover the “Word made flesh” who wants to know me and be known by me.
However it is that you best comprehend the story of God’s amazing love and desire to be close to you, I hope you are both shaken and stirred on this Second Day of Christmas.
© 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 do you take your theology? Straight up or with a twist? Abstract or concrete? Philosophy or story? The gospels are flexible enough to incorporate many learning styles.
On Christmas Eve, we are steeped in story, personal and intimate, sweeping and glorious, each element a rich vein of symbol and language to speak of how much God loves us. But this coming Sunday, we give way to the Gospel of John. The way he tells the story, and the way the prophets foretold it can be more abstract. John begins: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
Right off the bat, we are invited to suspend our literal mindedness (“how can something be with God and be God?”) and enter a swirl of words that convey a truth. What does “Word” mean? Most likely “logos,” translated as “word,” means something closer to “mind” or the “primal thought” of God. Does that make it more or less confusing?
That first paragraph tells the whole story – of what was before we were, of creation, of life and light, and light overcoming darkness. That is what is promised in the prophecy from Isaiah often read on Christmas: "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness— on them light has shined."
This great light, the prophet says, will shake up the nations and put an end to war – "For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire."
And who will bring about this world transformation? A child. An infant with the weight of the world on his shoulders: "For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders..."
And from John again: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”
This Son of God is a son given to us. Entrusted to humanity. Imagine. We wouldn't have known to ask for a child – God's people asked for a rescue mission, a savior, a bringer of justice, maybe a healer. Who would have known that this One would have to be one we could have relationship with?
The story of God, so far away, so holy, so “other,” moving into our neighborhood and settling down so that we can draw near – that’s a story that never gets old. It is hard to convey it as Good News to a people for whom it has become hum-drum, and to others for whom “God” is entirely irrelevant, but I believe it is the heart of the gift Christians have for the world. I will continue to try to get inside that mystery and discover the “Word made flesh” who wants to know me and be known by me.
However it is that you best comprehend the story of God’s amazing love and desire to be close to you, I hope you are both shaken and stirred on this Second Day of Christmas.
© 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.
12-25-25 - Shepherds and Angels - and You
You can listen to this reflection here. The gospel reading for Christmas is here.
The stable wasn’t the only center of action that original Christmas – God’s great production had multiple locations and a huge cast. The holy child birthed and swaddled, we fade out on the manger and shift focus to the fields outside Bethlehem, to a group of shepherds “keeping watch over their flocks by night.” Flocks were precious assets, and nighttime perilous – predators, thieves; many dangers lurked.
Herding sheep was not a glamorous profession in Jesus’ time, if ever. Shepherds were considered the dregs of society, dirty, crude, unkempt, the last people on earth you’d think would be the first to hear world-transforming news. But our God of surprises doesn’t see in such categories. The least likely became the first – does that sound familiar?
And not only the first to hear; this earthy bunch were the recipients of a celestial visit, a host of angels. The highest possible order of being, shining with the glory of the Lord, and rough-hewn riffraff, brought together on that bright hillside to share joy: “In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”
Think God was up to something? Think God is still up to something? A bunch of folks from whom no one expected anything good were entrusted with the best news of all – the birth of the Messiah, a savior, the Lord. This revelation, backed up by the most amazing light show ever seen, became their news to tell. To be the bearer of news everyone wants to hear – that’s quite a status upgrade.
Of the many messages in this strange tale we tell over and over, here is one: no one, no kind of person, no category of person is insignificant in God’s eyes. In God’s Life the most marginalized – even the most objectionable – can become the center of the story. “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom God favors!”
Who is on the margins of your life, or your community’s life? Can you invite someone into the center? Can you honor the least likely person by entrusting him with this amazing news? Maybe you feel like you are the least likely person. Know this: God has chosen you to share God’s most precious gift. Wrap your mind around that while you’re wrapping presents.
For a little while that night, there was peace, there was joy, there was amazement and wonder, shared between shepherds and angels, earth and heaven. I pray that for us, as celebrate the Magnificent Story again this Christmas Day, as we look for those at the edges and invite them into the center: Peace. Joy. Amazement. Wonder.
O come, let us adore him!
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Christmas Day. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
The stable wasn’t the only center of action that original Christmas – God’s great production had multiple locations and a huge cast. The holy child birthed and swaddled, we fade out on the manger and shift focus to the fields outside Bethlehem, to a group of shepherds “keeping watch over their flocks by night.” Flocks were precious assets, and nighttime perilous – predators, thieves; many dangers lurked.
Herding sheep was not a glamorous profession in Jesus’ time, if ever. Shepherds were considered the dregs of society, dirty, crude, unkempt, the last people on earth you’d think would be the first to hear world-transforming news. But our God of surprises doesn’t see in such categories. The least likely became the first – does that sound familiar?
And not only the first to hear; this earthy bunch were the recipients of a celestial visit, a host of angels. The highest possible order of being, shining with the glory of the Lord, and rough-hewn riffraff, brought together on that bright hillside to share joy: “In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”
Think God was up to something? Think God is still up to something? A bunch of folks from whom no one expected anything good were entrusted with the best news of all – the birth of the Messiah, a savior, the Lord. This revelation, backed up by the most amazing light show ever seen, became their news to tell. To be the bearer of news everyone wants to hear – that’s quite a status upgrade.
Of the many messages in this strange tale we tell over and over, here is one: no one, no kind of person, no category of person is insignificant in God’s eyes. In God’s Life the most marginalized – even the most objectionable – can become the center of the story. “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom God favors!”
Who is on the margins of your life, or your community’s life? Can you invite someone into the center? Can you honor the least likely person by entrusting him with this amazing news? Maybe you feel like you are the least likely person. Know this: God has chosen you to share God’s most precious gift. Wrap your mind around that while you’re wrapping presents.
For a little while that night, there was peace, there was joy, there was amazement and wonder, shared between shepherds and angels, earth and heaven. I pray that for us, as celebrate the Magnificent Story again this Christmas Day, as we look for those at the edges and invite them into the center: Peace. Joy. Amazement. Wonder.
O come, let us adore him!
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Christmas Day. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
12-23-25 - No Crib For His Bed
You can listen to this reflection here. The gospel reading for Christmas is here.
Have any other two sentences generated so much drama for so many centuries? “While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.”
That’s it, all Luke says. But because he mentions an inn with a no-vacancy sign, every Christmas pageant has to include an innkeeper, and every nativity drama a race against the clock by a desperate couple frantically seeking a place to have a baby, who is going to pop out any minute now…
Maybe Mary and Joseph had been in Bethlehem for a while before her contractions started. Maybe they camped out somewhere, needing shelter only when the baby arrived. Maybe the place in the house where the livestock were kept was the warmest, and that’s why they put the infant Jesus in the manger filled with straw. Maybe they wrapped him in cloths because onesies hadn’t been invented yet.
We know so little, yet we make so much of these few words. Because it’s a great story, all of it. The homeless couple, the rough shepherds, the glorious angels, the friendly beasts… and in the midst of all of it, the incarnate son of God. You couldn’t make up a story this good.
Do the details matter? Maybe not – but there’s richness in them. It is significant that Jesus spent his first night on earth in a feed trough in a stable. It reminds us that he did not come to make his home in this world. He did not seek the comforts that keep many of us holding on to more than we need while others go without. Though the Gospels suggest he lived a regular home-based life once he and his parents settled back in Nazareth after a period of exile in Egypt, once he began his ministry he stayed on the move. “The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” He almost didn’t have one to start with either.
Jesus is never recorded as leading anyone into a building – he led his followers out. Out of the building is still where most of our church ministry is to be lived. We church folk can get it backward, imposing onto our churches the assumption that home is where the heart is. It’s not the only place.
For the past fifteen years or so, I’ve hosted an annual National Homeless Persons Memorial Day service, remembering those who have died homeless that year in whatever community I’m in. This happens on the longest night of the year all over the world as the highly preventable scourge of homelessness persists decade after decade. Jesus spent his first nights not at “home,” but camping out in temporary lodging, sharing space with animals, in a city his parents were forced to visit. What we call homelessness was his first reality. The company of the marginalized was his first community.
We might pay more honor to the life going on outside our home – and our churches. Though there is dysfunction and injustice in it, let’s not miss the life in people whose ways don't fit into a mold we consider normal. Even as we work to eliminate homelessness, we can draw nearer to those who find themselves unhoused. In doing so we may just draw closer to Jesus.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Christmas Day. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Have any other two sentences generated so much drama for so many centuries? “While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.”
That’s it, all Luke says. But because he mentions an inn with a no-vacancy sign, every Christmas pageant has to include an innkeeper, and every nativity drama a race against the clock by a desperate couple frantically seeking a place to have a baby, who is going to pop out any minute now…
Maybe Mary and Joseph had been in Bethlehem for a while before her contractions started. Maybe they camped out somewhere, needing shelter only when the baby arrived. Maybe the place in the house where the livestock were kept was the warmest, and that’s why they put the infant Jesus in the manger filled with straw. Maybe they wrapped him in cloths because onesies hadn’t been invented yet.
We know so little, yet we make so much of these few words. Because it’s a great story, all of it. The homeless couple, the rough shepherds, the glorious angels, the friendly beasts… and in the midst of all of it, the incarnate son of God. You couldn’t make up a story this good.
Do the details matter? Maybe not – but there’s richness in them. It is significant that Jesus spent his first night on earth in a feed trough in a stable. It reminds us that he did not come to make his home in this world. He did not seek the comforts that keep many of us holding on to more than we need while others go without. Though the Gospels suggest he lived a regular home-based life once he and his parents settled back in Nazareth after a period of exile in Egypt, once he began his ministry he stayed on the move. “The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” He almost didn’t have one to start with either.
Jesus is never recorded as leading anyone into a building – he led his followers out. Out of the building is still where most of our church ministry is to be lived. We church folk can get it backward, imposing onto our churches the assumption that home is where the heart is. It’s not the only place.
For the past fifteen years or so, I’ve hosted an annual National Homeless Persons Memorial Day service, remembering those who have died homeless that year in whatever community I’m in. This happens on the longest night of the year all over the world as the highly preventable scourge of homelessness persists decade after decade. Jesus spent his first nights not at “home,” but camping out in temporary lodging, sharing space with animals, in a city his parents were forced to visit. What we call homelessness was his first reality. The company of the marginalized was his first community.
We might pay more honor to the life going on outside our home – and our churches. Though there is dysfunction and injustice in it, let’s not miss the life in people whose ways don't fit into a mold we consider normal. Even as we work to eliminate homelessness, we can draw nearer to those who find themselves unhoused. In doing so we may just draw closer to Jesus.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Christmas Day. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
12-22-25 - Waiting On the Baby
You can listen to this reflection here. The gospel reading for Christmas is here.
Advent IV is past and gone – onward to Christmas! The baking and decorating and wrapping are underway. Soon and very soon…
So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born…
It gets real for me when I set up the crèche. Each year, I place the figures the same way in the stable, the angels at the same angles on the gold lame cloth that represents the glory of the Lord (that “shone round about them…”). The wise men are still far off on the top shelf of the bookcase, the shepherds abiding in the fields. Mary’s wicker trunk (part of a long-ago gift basket) sits behind her; the stable cat is at the base of the hayloft – and the toy velociraptor some child once left at my house looks down on the scene from the loft (a reminder of ever-present danger perhaps? Or rebirth?).
And there they are, Joseph standing with a staff, Mary kneeling, gazing at an empty manger, waiting… waiting… waiting for the moment when it all changes, when new life brings an end to the old. Mary and Joseph would never be able to go back to what they’d known. No new parents can – and these two were going to face more change than most.
What are you waiting for in your life this week? Perhaps it’s related to Christmas, perhaps not.
What new life are you praying for?
And what are you hoping will never go away?
New life is always coming at us, sometimes taking up the space of something we rather liked, or had grown comfortable with. Is there something yearning to take up space in your life, space you’re willing to create by letting something else go?
On Christmas Eve, when I get home from church (this year around 1:30 am, I'm told…), I will fetch the baby out of that little wicker trunk and place him in the manger. Jesus always shows up, eventually. Sometimes we just have to let him out of our baggage…
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Christmas Day. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Advent IV is past and gone – onward to Christmas! The baking and decorating and wrapping are underway. Soon and very soon…
So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born…
It gets real for me when I set up the crèche. Each year, I place the figures the same way in the stable, the angels at the same angles on the gold lame cloth that represents the glory of the Lord (that “shone round about them…”). The wise men are still far off on the top shelf of the bookcase, the shepherds abiding in the fields. Mary’s wicker trunk (part of a long-ago gift basket) sits behind her; the stable cat is at the base of the hayloft – and the toy velociraptor some child once left at my house looks down on the scene from the loft (a reminder of ever-present danger perhaps? Or rebirth?).
And there they are, Joseph standing with a staff, Mary kneeling, gazing at an empty manger, waiting… waiting… waiting for the moment when it all changes, when new life brings an end to the old. Mary and Joseph would never be able to go back to what they’d known. No new parents can – and these two were going to face more change than most.
What are you waiting for in your life this week? Perhaps it’s related to Christmas, perhaps not.
What new life are you praying for?
And what are you hoping will never go away?
New life is always coming at us, sometimes taking up the space of something we rather liked, or had grown comfortable with. Is there something yearning to take up space in your life, space you’re willing to create by letting something else go?
On Christmas Eve, when I get home from church (this year around 1:30 am, I'm told…), I will fetch the baby out of that little wicker trunk and place him in the manger. Jesus always shows up, eventually. Sometimes we just have to let him out of our baggage…
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Christmas Day. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
12-19-25 - Change of Plans
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Those who have grown up with the Christian tradition have long since accepted the implausible impossibles at the heart of our Christmas story. We either accept them as “gospel truth,” or as narratives given authority by centuries of holy use, or at least as a great story. Do we even blink anymore at hearing that a young girl might become pregnant “by the Holy Spirit,” and be supported by a man who had every reason to quit her but stayed because an angel told him to?
It has become so ingrained as “that’s how the story goes,” it can be hard to experience the wonder and fear such events might evoke. A few years ago I was inspired by a crazy “What if….” What if God had decided that Joseph would bear the son of God? I mean, if we’re talking about the God for whom nothing is impossible, why not go there? I wrote this up as a somewhat playful short sermon drama that I’ve only once dared to have performed in church; I wanted to ratchet up the sense of dislocation this story should elicit in us.
Joseph and Mary experienced a radical change of plans. Their future looked all set – they were engaged, would soon be married; Joseph had a good living as a builder, Mary was young and healthy. The plan looked good.
Except God had a different plan – a way, way bigger plan. A plan that required an unbelievable amount of faith, to believe in something that could not possibly be proven in any empirical way. A plan that demanded an inconceivable amount of courage, to defend a “conceiving” that looked an awful lot like sin and betrayal. A plan that would bring some joy, yes, and also a great deal of heartache and uncertainty.
Those who have grown up with the Christian tradition have long since accepted the implausible impossibles at the heart of our Christmas story. We either accept them as “gospel truth,” or as narratives given authority by centuries of holy use, or at least as a great story. Do we even blink anymore at hearing that a young girl might become pregnant “by the Holy Spirit,” and be supported by a man who had every reason to quit her but stayed because an angel told him to?
It has become so ingrained as “that’s how the story goes,” it can be hard to experience the wonder and fear such events might evoke. A few years ago I was inspired by a crazy “What if….” What if God had decided that Joseph would bear the son of God? I mean, if we’re talking about the God for whom nothing is impossible, why not go there? I wrote this up as a somewhat playful short sermon drama that I’ve only once dared to have performed in church; I wanted to ratchet up the sense of dislocation this story should elicit in us.
Joseph and Mary experienced a radical change of plans. Their future looked all set – they were engaged, would soon be married; Joseph had a good living as a builder, Mary was young and healthy. The plan looked good.
Except God had a different plan – a way, way bigger plan. A plan that required an unbelievable amount of faith, to believe in something that could not possibly be proven in any empirical way. A plan that demanded an inconceivable amount of courage, to defend a “conceiving” that looked an awful lot like sin and betrayal. A plan that would bring some joy, yes, and also a great deal of heartache and uncertainty.
- What plans of yours have been disrupted – by God, or by the choices of others, or by circumstances beyond your control? Have you grieved those lost plans? It’s worth naming them, if only to better let them go.
- How creative and resilient were you in adapting to the new circumstances? Have you adjusted yet?
- What is your prayer in response to plan changes?
- Where do you sense the Holy Spirit’s involvement in your life?
- Can you glimpse a bigger plan in what has happened? Name it.
Looking back, sometimes we can see blessing in what came about instead of our plans. In It’s a Wonderful Life, George Bailey discovers that his continually laying aside his life plans made him not a failure, but a blessing to countless people, including himself. It is considered a holiday film because of its Christmas climax – but it also echoes the challenges facing Mary and Joseph in our nativity story.
I surely hope they were blessed by the new trajectory of their lives as they embraced God’s plan. I firmly believe that the world has been blessed by them. I have been. Here's how their conversation with the angel might have gone...
GABRIEL: Look, I know this is not what you were expecting. And I can’t promise that it’s all going to be easy from here on out. This plan of God’s – it’s complicated, and it’s not all happy endings along the way… though hang on for the real ending. That’s a doozy. You’re going to face adversity and hardship and challenge—
JOSEPH: Keep going, pal – you’re really selling it!
GABRIEL: But you’ll also find you’re right at the heart of God’s greatest gift to the world. God is all-powerful, yet God cannot set this story in motion without both of you. It’s going to take tremendous faith, but I assure you, it’s a heck of a story.
MARY: Do we have a choice? Feels like this pregnancy is already well underway.
GABRIEL: You have a choice in how you respond… Will you walk into the story? Will you exercise your faith? Will you hold each other when one of you starts to doubt? Will you let love be your answer?
© 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 surely hope they were blessed by the new trajectory of their lives as they embraced God’s plan. I firmly believe that the world has been blessed by them. I have been. Here's how their conversation with the angel might have gone...
GABRIEL: Look, I know this is not what you were expecting. And I can’t promise that it’s all going to be easy from here on out. This plan of God’s – it’s complicated, and it’s not all happy endings along the way… though hang on for the real ending. That’s a doozy. You’re going to face adversity and hardship and challenge—
JOSEPH: Keep going, pal – you’re really selling it!
GABRIEL: But you’ll also find you’re right at the heart of God’s greatest gift to the world. God is all-powerful, yet God cannot set this story in motion without both of you. It’s going to take tremendous faith, but I assure you, it’s a heck of a story.
MARY: Do we have a choice? Feels like this pregnancy is already well underway.
GABRIEL: You have a choice in how you respond… Will you walk into the story? Will you exercise your faith? Will you hold each other when one of you starts to doubt? Will you let love be your answer?
© 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.
12-15-25 - Stepping Up
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Ah, at last we get to the story, the story we tell and re-tell about the angels and the shepherds and the sweet young woman great with child and... Oh, wait, not quite that story. Angels, yes, but only in dreams. No shepherds or inn-keepers in Matthew’s pageant. In fact, he barely works Mary in, naming her only as Jesus’ mother and Joseph’s betrothed. This is Joseph’s story, as Matthew tells it: Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.
Interestingly, Matthew does not refer to Joseph as Jesus’ father – in fact, he tips the “messianic secret” in the first line. Mary is introduced as mother and fiancée, but all the action here is with Joseph – his challenges, his choices.
We are told he is a righteous man, and we can see how gentle is his response to the news of Mary’s pregnancy, intending to dissolve the betrothal in quiet so as to protect her from legal liability as an adulteress. Then an angel intervenes in a dream, giving him the rundown that, in Luke, Mary hears directly from the angel Gabriel.
And Joseph decides to obey this dream message, despite his own misgivings and the likely derision of the people close to him. He does so honorably, and endures Mary’s "confinement" without marital gratification – all the while preparing to welcome and raise a first-born whom he knows is not his biological child. In today’s idiom we might say, “Joseph totally steps up, dude.” (Randy Travis tells his story – and The Whole Story – in Raise Him Up.)
Who in your life has stepped up for you, above and beyond their “duty?” Relatives, teachers, colleagues, friends…. Let your gratitude fill you – and if they’re still around to be thanked, thank them again.
Who or what you are being called to nurture into strong, healthy growth? Who are you helping to “raise up?” What are you helping to build? Remember this is God’s work, work God invites us to participate in. The results are not up to us, but sometimes the work won't happen if we don't agree to do it.
God asked Joseph to participate in a critical role in the plan of salvation that we claim as Christians. It was not an easy “yes,” any easier than Mary’s was. But Joseph said yes – and so helped to raise us up in the Life of God.
© 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.
Ah, at last we get to the story, the story we tell and re-tell about the angels and the shepherds and the sweet young woman great with child and... Oh, wait, not quite that story. Angels, yes, but only in dreams. No shepherds or inn-keepers in Matthew’s pageant. In fact, he barely works Mary in, naming her only as Jesus’ mother and Joseph’s betrothed. This is Joseph’s story, as Matthew tells it: Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.
Interestingly, Matthew does not refer to Joseph as Jesus’ father – in fact, he tips the “messianic secret” in the first line. Mary is introduced as mother and fiancée, but all the action here is with Joseph – his challenges, his choices.
We are told he is a righteous man, and we can see how gentle is his response to the news of Mary’s pregnancy, intending to dissolve the betrothal in quiet so as to protect her from legal liability as an adulteress. Then an angel intervenes in a dream, giving him the rundown that, in Luke, Mary hears directly from the angel Gabriel.
And Joseph decides to obey this dream message, despite his own misgivings and the likely derision of the people close to him. He does so honorably, and endures Mary’s "confinement" without marital gratification – all the while preparing to welcome and raise a first-born whom he knows is not his biological child. In today’s idiom we might say, “Joseph totally steps up, dude.” (Randy Travis tells his story – and The Whole Story – in Raise Him Up.)
Who in your life has stepped up for you, above and beyond their “duty?” Relatives, teachers, colleagues, friends…. Let your gratitude fill you – and if they’re still around to be thanked, thank them again.
Who or what you are being called to nurture into strong, healthy growth? Who are you helping to “raise up?” What are you helping to build? Remember this is God’s work, work God invites us to participate in. The results are not up to us, but sometimes the work won't happen if we don't agree to do it.
God asked Joseph to participate in a critical role in the plan of salvation that we claim as Christians. It was not an easy “yes,” any easier than Mary’s was. But Joseph said yes – and so helped to raise us up in the Life of God.
© 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.
12-25-24 - Use Your Words
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“Use your words.” I never thought to compare the God who rules the universe with a pre-verbal toddler, struggling to make herself understood, but that’s what comes to mind as I think about the holy mystery at the heart of Christmas: And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth…
Why was the Incarnation of God’s Son necessary? In part, because of a communications breakdown. Because humankind could not understand the language in which God was communicating. We could not understand who God was. God had to use his Word – and give that Word flesh, and send that Word to “pitch tent” among us and sojourn with us for a time, so that he could make God known to us. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.
Jesus himself is worthy of our interest and attention and devotion. But we miss more than half the point if we forget that all that love and power and mercy and holiness and desire for justice was revealing to us who God is. In demonstrating how things work in the realm of God, the Life of God, Jesus was showing us God, making God known.
Today we celebrate God made known in the most vulnerable of states – and yet powerful enough to command the attendance of kings and angels. And, I hope, compelling enough to command our attention and love, on this day when we celebrate his wondrous birth. Christmas has just begun.
A blessed Feast of the Incarnation to you. God has used his Word to make God’s love known. I pray that today, and every day, we will use our words to make God’s love known to one another.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. 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.
“Use your words.” I never thought to compare the God who rules the universe with a pre-verbal toddler, struggling to make herself understood, but that’s what comes to mind as I think about the holy mystery at the heart of Christmas: And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth…
Why was the Incarnation of God’s Son necessary? In part, because of a communications breakdown. Because humankind could not understand the language in which God was communicating. We could not understand who God was. God had to use his Word – and give that Word flesh, and send that Word to “pitch tent” among us and sojourn with us for a time, so that he could make God known to us. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.
Jesus himself is worthy of our interest and attention and devotion. But we miss more than half the point if we forget that all that love and power and mercy and holiness and desire for justice was revealing to us who God is. In demonstrating how things work in the realm of God, the Life of God, Jesus was showing us God, making God known.
Today we celebrate God made known in the most vulnerable of states – and yet powerful enough to command the attendance of kings and angels. And, I hope, compelling enough to command our attention and love, on this day when we celebrate his wondrous birth. Christmas has just begun.
A blessed Feast of the Incarnation to you. God has used his Word to make God’s love known. I pray that today, and every day, we will use our words to make God’s love known to one another.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. 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.
12-24-24 - Made Children of God
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
People often say that Christmas is for children. It may be more accurate to say that it is a holiday best enjoyed by those whose capacity for wonder and enchantment is untarnished, who still believe in what cannot be seen, who love the anticipation of wrapped gifts and visiting family.
I confess my capacity for wonder is a little tarnished these days, given the state of the world. So what good news it is to hear that I have received power to become a child again!
People often say that Christmas is for children. It may be more accurate to say that it is a holiday best enjoyed by those whose capacity for wonder and enchantment is untarnished, who still believe in what cannot be seen, who love the anticipation of wrapped gifts and visiting family.
I confess my capacity for wonder is a little tarnished these days, given the state of the world. So what good news it is to hear that I have received power to become a child again!
He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.
Not everyone accepts the Light of the World; some have grown too accustomed to the familiarity of shadows. Not everyone wants light shined in dark places. And by our own strength, we cannot always turn ourselves toward the Light. The way John puts it is that Jesus gives us power to become children of God. We become God’s children not by virtue of lineage or procreation or our own will, but by the power of God which comes from outside us and takes root inside us.
How do we claim – or reclaim – our identity as children of God? How might that reawaken our sense of wonder and delight? Remember, children do not generally feel responsible for everything the way adults tend to. Can we remind each other that we’re not actually in charge of making Christmas, or the world, right for everyone?
And children don’t generally let life’s disappointments diminish their ability to expect good things. Remember when there was one gift you were so hoping would be there under the tree? What would that be for you now? Let yourself hope.
Tonight is a time for wonder – a church filled with worshippers, beautiful carols we love to sing, poinsettias and greens and gold ribbon everywhere we look. And that moment when we dim the lights and light our candles and sing Silent Night and the world seems to stop for a few moments. Maybe that will help us rediscover the joy of being claimed as beloved by the God who is Love, and let our “inner children of God” come out and play.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. 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.
Not everyone accepts the Light of the World; some have grown too accustomed to the familiarity of shadows. Not everyone wants light shined in dark places. And by our own strength, we cannot always turn ourselves toward the Light. The way John puts it is that Jesus gives us power to become children of God. We become God’s children not by virtue of lineage or procreation or our own will, but by the power of God which comes from outside us and takes root inside us.
How do we claim – or reclaim – our identity as children of God? How might that reawaken our sense of wonder and delight? Remember, children do not generally feel responsible for everything the way adults tend to. Can we remind each other that we’re not actually in charge of making Christmas, or the world, right for everyone?
And children don’t generally let life’s disappointments diminish their ability to expect good things. Remember when there was one gift you were so hoping would be there under the tree? What would that be for you now? Let yourself hope.
Tonight is a time for wonder – a church filled with worshippers, beautiful carols we love to sing, poinsettias and greens and gold ribbon everywhere we look. And that moment when we dim the lights and light our candles and sing Silent Night and the world seems to stop for a few moments. Maybe that will help us rediscover the joy of being claimed as beloved by the God who is Love, and let our “inner children of God” come out and play.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. 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.
12-29-23 - Word Embodied
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
What good are words if they’re never put into action?
What good is a God you cannot see?
I rejoice in worshipping a God who made herself visible. God may have hoped humanity would understand his nearness and feel his love through messages and messengers, but in the fullness of time God entered human life in a radical way, specifically and particularly. That is the heart of this week’s good news for me:
And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.
That word “dwelt” can be rendered “abided with” or, most literally “pitched tent among.” The story of God, so far away, so holy, so “other,” moving into our neighborhood and settling down so that we can draw near – that’s a story that never gets old. I feel frustrated in how to convey it as Good News to a people for whom it has become hum-drum, and to others for whom “God” is entirely irrelevant, but I believe it is the heart of the gift Christians have for the world.
I know it’s hard for us to “see” that Word made flesh in our time, risen and ascended into heaven as he is, but through his Spirit we are able to know him in relationship, we can see him in other people. I will continue to seek to get inside that mystery and discover the “Word made flesh” who wants to know me and be known by me.
As Madeleine L’Engle wrote in her poem, “First Coming” (printed in full in the note I sent Christmas Day):
He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
What good are words if they’re never put into action?
What good is a God you cannot see?
I rejoice in worshipping a God who made herself visible. God may have hoped humanity would understand his nearness and feel his love through messages and messengers, but in the fullness of time God entered human life in a radical way, specifically and particularly. That is the heart of this week’s good news for me:
And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.
That word “dwelt” can be rendered “abided with” or, most literally “pitched tent among.” The story of God, so far away, so holy, so “other,” moving into our neighborhood and settling down so that we can draw near – that’s a story that never gets old. I feel frustrated in how to convey it as Good News to a people for whom it has become hum-drum, and to others for whom “God” is entirely irrelevant, but I believe it is the heart of the gift Christians have for the world.
I know it’s hard for us to “see” that Word made flesh in our time, risen and ascended into heaven as he is, but through his Spirit we are able to know him in relationship, we can see him in other people. I will continue to seek to get inside that mystery and discover the “Word made flesh” who wants to know me and be known by me.
As Madeleine L’Engle wrote in her poem, “First Coming” (printed in full in the note I sent Christmas Day):
He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
12-28-23 - Becoming Children
You can listen to this reflection here.
Some say that Christmas is for children; as we age the anticipation dims, the mystery dissipates. We affirm with our minds what all the fuss is about, but we also know it will come around again. I was already a little jaded by college, writing in my journal, “I can’t get more excited about Christ being born just because the calendar says December 25th than I am the other 364 days of the year.”
But for children, Christmas is often a heightened time - the growing pile of presents under the tree, the dazzling ornaments, special treats baked only once a year, dressing up and staying up, the pageant and the carols. I remember Christmas; what would it be like to feel that wonder again?
Jesus said we had to become like children to receive the kingdom of God. In the prologue to John’s Gospel, which we’re exploring this week, we learn how that happens: But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.
Power to become children of God – what an interesting phrase. We don’t always associate power with childhood. And who can get themselves born, especially by the will of God? That is something over which we have no power whatsoever. And yet that is the paradox of faith – when we exercise our will to believe in Christ, by faith, not sight, we receive power to give our power away. When we give our power away in vulnerability and trust (I’m not talking about when it’s taken by force…), we are more free to receive.
As I write about the wonder of childhood, I am reminded that today is the Feast of the Holy Innocents, which recalls the slaying of two-year-old boys in Judea at the order of a paranoid King Herod (Matthew 2). It’s hard not to think of the children being killed, maimed or orphaned in Gaza or the Ukraine at present, or Israeli children who witnessed the massacres and kidnappings by Hamas on October 7. Childhood gives cause for wonderment of all sorts, not just beauty. But as children do, we can process death and tragedy within relationships of trust, such as God invites us into.
I pray for the grace to receive the gift of wonder and joy and openness available to children; adulthood isn’t always much fun. And maybe that’s the point – adulthood is where we live; childhood – in its best sense – is like that realm of God that coexists with this world. As we let our faith grow, we get to spend more time in that land of wonder, where things are always new again and mysteries present themselves for the unwrapping.
God has so many gifts for us; we need to receive them with hands outstretched like a child catching snowflakes.
Some say that Christmas is for children; as we age the anticipation dims, the mystery dissipates. We affirm with our minds what all the fuss is about, but we also know it will come around again. I was already a little jaded by college, writing in my journal, “I can’t get more excited about Christ being born just because the calendar says December 25th than I am the other 364 days of the year.”
But for children, Christmas is often a heightened time - the growing pile of presents under the tree, the dazzling ornaments, special treats baked only once a year, dressing up and staying up, the pageant and the carols. I remember Christmas; what would it be like to feel that wonder again?
Jesus said we had to become like children to receive the kingdom of God. In the prologue to John’s Gospel, which we’re exploring this week, we learn how that happens: But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.
Power to become children of God – what an interesting phrase. We don’t always associate power with childhood. And who can get themselves born, especially by the will of God? That is something over which we have no power whatsoever. And yet that is the paradox of faith – when we exercise our will to believe in Christ, by faith, not sight, we receive power to give our power away. When we give our power away in vulnerability and trust (I’m not talking about when it’s taken by force…), we are more free to receive.
As I write about the wonder of childhood, I am reminded that today is the Feast of the Holy Innocents, which recalls the slaying of two-year-old boys in Judea at the order of a paranoid King Herod (Matthew 2). It’s hard not to think of the children being killed, maimed or orphaned in Gaza or the Ukraine at present, or Israeli children who witnessed the massacres and kidnappings by Hamas on October 7. Childhood gives cause for wonderment of all sorts, not just beauty. But as children do, we can process death and tragedy within relationships of trust, such as God invites us into.
I pray for the grace to receive the gift of wonder and joy and openness available to children; adulthood isn’t always much fun. And maybe that’s the point – adulthood is where we live; childhood – in its best sense – is like that realm of God that coexists with this world. As we let our faith grow, we get to spend more time in that land of wonder, where things are always new again and mysteries present themselves for the unwrapping.
God has so many gifts for us; we need to receive them with hands outstretched like a child catching snowflakes.
12-27-23 - Witnessing To Light
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The cosmic first paragraph of John’s gospel ends with a declaration for all time: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
And then the writer brings us down to earth with a thud, introducing his first human character. One might expect that person to be this Word, this Life, this Light, but no – the first one to be mentioned is John the Baptist:
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.
A little later in the Gospel, we will hear John himself clarify his identity as one who testifies, who is not himself the light. John was God’s messenger, and like all God’s messengers, he pointed not to himself, but to the Life of God. In the darkness of his era, he pointed to the Light.
Many perceive a deep darkness in our current age, as the gap between rich and poor grows ever wider, human rights are narrowed, and despots stoke nationalistic fervor in their followers. In response to global and national events, some careen from outrage to terror to disgust at seeing basic freedoms jeopardized by strongmen who seem to delight in division and destruction, who privilege the already privileged at the expense of the vulnerable, and seem to glory in the devastation humankind is wreaking on the wondrous beauty of this world and its creatures. It can be hard to be hopeful.
On the personal plane, depression and addiction, suicide and despair are disconcertingly prevalent, while the resources for helping those caught in these cycles get stretched thinner. As mistrust among people and with religious organizations grows, the sense of darkness enshrouding us gets stronger. What about that light who has overcome the darkness?
Yes. The Light of the world is still here. He still resides in us, and we are still called to testify to the reality of him, and not only when we feel like it. As it was for John, it needs to become part of our deepest identity. If we trust the Light is real, the Light is true, the Light is here; if we have seen Christ shine light into shadow places, to heal and restore and renew what is broken; then we have testimony to offer.
And boy, do we need to hear it. It can be hard to see where hope lies. When the clouds gather, I need to remember that this is my call, my mission, not just as an ordained person but as a Christ follower. In fact, I once head God tell me in prayer that I was to develop my ability to see in the dark. To do that, I have to trust in the Light I carry.
What is the darkest place you know of right now? Who is in the deepest despair?
Go, and testify there to the Light you know, the light you have known. Perhaps that is all the church is supposed to be doing right now, testifying to the Light who is Jesus. This Light has an interesting property - it gets brighter and stronger in this world the more we point it out. Everybody wins.
The cosmic first paragraph of John’s gospel ends with a declaration for all time: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
And then the writer brings us down to earth with a thud, introducing his first human character. One might expect that person to be this Word, this Life, this Light, but no – the first one to be mentioned is John the Baptist:
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.
A little later in the Gospel, we will hear John himself clarify his identity as one who testifies, who is not himself the light. John was God’s messenger, and like all God’s messengers, he pointed not to himself, but to the Life of God. In the darkness of his era, he pointed to the Light.
Many perceive a deep darkness in our current age, as the gap between rich and poor grows ever wider, human rights are narrowed, and despots stoke nationalistic fervor in their followers. In response to global and national events, some careen from outrage to terror to disgust at seeing basic freedoms jeopardized by strongmen who seem to delight in division and destruction, who privilege the already privileged at the expense of the vulnerable, and seem to glory in the devastation humankind is wreaking on the wondrous beauty of this world and its creatures. It can be hard to be hopeful.
On the personal plane, depression and addiction, suicide and despair are disconcertingly prevalent, while the resources for helping those caught in these cycles get stretched thinner. As mistrust among people and with religious organizations grows, the sense of darkness enshrouding us gets stronger. What about that light who has overcome the darkness?
Yes. The Light of the world is still here. He still resides in us, and we are still called to testify to the reality of him, and not only when we feel like it. As it was for John, it needs to become part of our deepest identity. If we trust the Light is real, the Light is true, the Light is here; if we have seen Christ shine light into shadow places, to heal and restore and renew what is broken; then we have testimony to offer.
And boy, do we need to hear it. It can be hard to see where hope lies. When the clouds gather, I need to remember that this is my call, my mission, not just as an ordained person but as a Christ follower. In fact, I once head God tell me in prayer that I was to develop my ability to see in the dark. To do that, I have to trust in the Light I carry.
What is the darkest place you know of right now? Who is in the deepest despair?
Go, and testify there to the Light you know, the light you have known. Perhaps that is all the church is supposed to be doing right now, testifying to the Light who is Jesus. This Light has an interesting property - it gets brighter and stronger in this world the more we point it out. Everybody wins.
12-26-23 - Love In the Abstract
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
How do you take your theology? Straight up or with a twist? Abstract or concrete? Philosophy or narrative? The gospels are flexible enough to incorporate many learning styles.
On Christmas Eve, we are steeped in story, personal and intimate, sweeping and glorious, each element a rich vein of symbol and language to convey how much God loves us. And then, on the first Sunday after Christmas, we make a sharp turn to the prologue of the Gospel of John, which is as abstract as a love story could possibly get.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
Right off the bat, we are invited to suspend our literal mindedness (“how can something be with God and be God?”) and enter a swirl of words that convey a truth. What does “Word” mean? Most likely “logos,” translated as “word,” means something closer to “mind” or the “primal thought” of God. Does that make it more or less confusing?
That first paragraph tells the whole story – of what was before we were, of creation, of life and light, and light overcoming darkness. In theological language, we see the doctrines of God, Creation, Incarnation, Salvation – all in a few short lines.
But on Boxing Day, who is thinking about theological doctrines? Some of us are cleaning up, putting out bags of torn Christmas wrap. We may be enjoying another day with family and friends, or just resting from the frenzy. I hope no one is taking down Christmas decorations, as we have a full ten days more of Christmas to celebrate. (That siren you hear is the liturgical police ready to pull you over….)
If you take some devotional time today, you might read over the passage several times, slowly, and see where you get snagged. If something is confusing, take note. If something is pleasing, read that part again. What is the overall sense you come away with? What is the heart of the passage?
However it is that you best comprehend the story of God’s amazing love and desire to be close to you, I hope you are both shaken and stirred.
How do you take your theology? Straight up or with a twist? Abstract or concrete? Philosophy or narrative? The gospels are flexible enough to incorporate many learning styles.
On Christmas Eve, we are steeped in story, personal and intimate, sweeping and glorious, each element a rich vein of symbol and language to convey how much God loves us. And then, on the first Sunday after Christmas, we make a sharp turn to the prologue of the Gospel of John, which is as abstract as a love story could possibly get.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
Right off the bat, we are invited to suspend our literal mindedness (“how can something be with God and be God?”) and enter a swirl of words that convey a truth. What does “Word” mean? Most likely “logos,” translated as “word,” means something closer to “mind” or the “primal thought” of God. Does that make it more or less confusing?
That first paragraph tells the whole story – of what was before we were, of creation, of life and light, and light overcoming darkness. In theological language, we see the doctrines of God, Creation, Incarnation, Salvation – all in a few short lines.
But on Boxing Day, who is thinking about theological doctrines? Some of us are cleaning up, putting out bags of torn Christmas wrap. We may be enjoying another day with family and friends, or just resting from the frenzy. I hope no one is taking down Christmas decorations, as we have a full ten days more of Christmas to celebrate. (That siren you hear is the liturgical police ready to pull you over….)
If you take some devotional time today, you might read over the passage several times, slowly, and see where you get snagged. If something is confusing, take note. If something is pleasing, read that part again. What is the overall sense you come away with? What is the heart of the passage?
However it is that you best comprehend the story of God’s amazing love and desire to be close to you, I hope you are both shaken and stirred.
12-20-23 - Say What?!
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I don’t know that I would want to hear that I had found favor with God… God’s favor can come with a request for a favor! In the case of Mary of Nazareth, a rather big one: to allow her body to be the vessel for the Son of the Most High.
The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”
Did Mary hear anything after the words “womb” and “son?” Where would you even start with an announcement like this? With the pregnancy? The predictions of greatness, of divinity, of Messiah-ship? That’s what “the throne of his ancestor David” means – and no doubt Mary understood the code. Or would you focus on the words “reign” and “kingdom?” I don’t know that I would have heard any of it – this was an angel speaking! My senses would already have hit “tilt.”
So even more credit goes to young Mary for not only taking it in, but responding in a most down-to-earth, matter-of-fact way: “How?” Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” How indeed? Gabriel’s answer is short on details, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you…”
Mary is left to sort through the words, the past, the future, the fear, the excitement, the bafflement. She ignores the grand and cosmic mystery of identity about this coming child, and focuses on the reality closest to her: her body. This wondrous event is to take place in her body – a body that, she reminds the angel, has not experienced sexual intimacy. Is she to endure the wear and tear of childbearing before she’s had the pleasure of child-begetting?
How will this be? How indeed does God work through the frail and fallible flesh of any person? Mary’s mission may be the most intimate in our whole crazy story of redemption, but every part of that story involves God working through a person. People are asked to yield their time, livelihood, home, safety, security, voice, identity… They are called to make themselves available to the Spirit of God.
Us too. What has God asked of you, probable or improbable, difficult or simple? This is a small example, but it was a big deal for me to yield my space and my schedule when my mother moved in with me last spring – and at times I gave it grudgingly. What aspects of your life and self have you made available to the Holy One to fill and use? What have you held back? What are you willing to offer?
In prayer today we can work through a litany of “oblation,” offering in turn our minds, our bodies, our time, our gifts, our resources, our relationships, our networks, and, of course, our spirits. (Here is a form to help you.) As we offer each area, we might wait for a word on how God wants to use that in us.
Mary was called to be a vessel of Christ’s body, to bear him into the world. We are called to be vessels of Christ’s spirit, to bear him into the world in our own ways and circumstances. That includes our bodies as well as everything else that makes us who we are. We can invite the Spirit to fill us – and then see how we make space for grace.
I don’t know that I would want to hear that I had found favor with God… God’s favor can come with a request for a favor! In the case of Mary of Nazareth, a rather big one: to allow her body to be the vessel for the Son of the Most High.
The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”
Did Mary hear anything after the words “womb” and “son?” Where would you even start with an announcement like this? With the pregnancy? The predictions of greatness, of divinity, of Messiah-ship? That’s what “the throne of his ancestor David” means – and no doubt Mary understood the code. Or would you focus on the words “reign” and “kingdom?” I don’t know that I would have heard any of it – this was an angel speaking! My senses would already have hit “tilt.”
So even more credit goes to young Mary for not only taking it in, but responding in a most down-to-earth, matter-of-fact way: “How?” Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” How indeed? Gabriel’s answer is short on details, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you…”
Mary is left to sort through the words, the past, the future, the fear, the excitement, the bafflement. She ignores the grand and cosmic mystery of identity about this coming child, and focuses on the reality closest to her: her body. This wondrous event is to take place in her body – a body that, she reminds the angel, has not experienced sexual intimacy. Is she to endure the wear and tear of childbearing before she’s had the pleasure of child-begetting?
How will this be? How indeed does God work through the frail and fallible flesh of any person? Mary’s mission may be the most intimate in our whole crazy story of redemption, but every part of that story involves God working through a person. People are asked to yield their time, livelihood, home, safety, security, voice, identity… They are called to make themselves available to the Spirit of God.
Us too. What has God asked of you, probable or improbable, difficult or simple? This is a small example, but it was a big deal for me to yield my space and my schedule when my mother moved in with me last spring – and at times I gave it grudgingly. What aspects of your life and self have you made available to the Holy One to fill and use? What have you held back? What are you willing to offer?
In prayer today we can work through a litany of “oblation,” offering in turn our minds, our bodies, our time, our gifts, our resources, our relationships, our networks, and, of course, our spirits. (Here is a form to help you.) As we offer each area, we might wait for a word on how God wants to use that in us.
Mary was called to be a vessel of Christ’s body, to bear him into the world. We are called to be vessels of Christ’s spirit, to bear him into the world in our own ways and circumstances. That includes our bodies as well as everything else that makes us who we are. We can invite the Spirit to fill us – and then see how we make space for grace.
12-29-22 - Mary Pondered
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
How many times did she doubt during those months of pregnancy, wonder if she’d dreamt that story about the angel and his grand promises about the baby growing in her? But then, how did that baby get there? She would not have forgotten that.. And yes, there was confirmation when she visited her cousin Elizabeth and found the aged woman in the pink of pregnancy. But even that could be humanly possible… And then, to learn that Joseph had had dreams which matched what the angel had told her...
Even so, could this really be a movement of God, a movement to save the world, through her? That seemed too crazy to fathom. Until now. Until that gift came to pass, that deliverer delivered from her own body, swaddled and laid to sleep in a feeding trough, the hay keeping him warm. Then in burst a bunch of shepherds bearing tales of angelic visitations, with those words again, “To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord."
A sign for the shepherds, yes, and also for Joseph and Mary. Luke tells us that, while the shepherds went out and spread the amazing story, “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”
What did Mary ponder? Once, in prayer, I sensed an encounter with her, a gracious older woman in a blue-green knit turtleneck dress. She said a few things as I asked her questions: “I was not all that good or all that brave. I was a bit of a flirt in my day – and had a sharp tongue. I was funny. Boy, that grew me up in a hurry (Jesus’ birth, etc.) Oh, you can believe what you like about all the stories. I’ll just say, it was hard. It was rough. I felt very, very alone – didn’t know Joseph enough to trust him yet."
And the sword that the elder Simeon spoke of, when they presented Jesus in the temple? “A sword pierces the heart of every mother,” she said. “From the moment your child is born, he is moving toward independence, which is a kind of death for you. He is moving toward his death."
She added, “I couldn’t worship him in life. How do you worship one whose diapers you’ve changed? No, he was always my son in this life. It wasn’t until after my death that I could worship him.” True for all of us, really...
Were Mary’s ponderings so different from those of any new mother? The stakes were higher, perhaps – but also the knowledge that, if this truly was a movement of God, then God would continue to be the mover. I hope she had that confidence, and that it bore her through the rough times.
I hope that for us, as well, as we bear Christ’s presence and light into this world. God sends signs for us, too.
How many times did she doubt during those months of pregnancy, wonder if she’d dreamt that story about the angel and his grand promises about the baby growing in her? But then, how did that baby get there? She would not have forgotten that.. And yes, there was confirmation when she visited her cousin Elizabeth and found the aged woman in the pink of pregnancy. But even that could be humanly possible… And then, to learn that Joseph had had dreams which matched what the angel had told her...
Even so, could this really be a movement of God, a movement to save the world, through her? That seemed too crazy to fathom. Until now. Until that gift came to pass, that deliverer delivered from her own body, swaddled and laid to sleep in a feeding trough, the hay keeping him warm. Then in burst a bunch of shepherds bearing tales of angelic visitations, with those words again, “To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord."
A sign for the shepherds, yes, and also for Joseph and Mary. Luke tells us that, while the shepherds went out and spread the amazing story, “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”
What did Mary ponder? Once, in prayer, I sensed an encounter with her, a gracious older woman in a blue-green knit turtleneck dress. She said a few things as I asked her questions: “I was not all that good or all that brave. I was a bit of a flirt in my day – and had a sharp tongue. I was funny. Boy, that grew me up in a hurry (Jesus’ birth, etc.) Oh, you can believe what you like about all the stories. I’ll just say, it was hard. It was rough. I felt very, very alone – didn’t know Joseph enough to trust him yet."
And the sword that the elder Simeon spoke of, when they presented Jesus in the temple? “A sword pierces the heart of every mother,” she said. “From the moment your child is born, he is moving toward independence, which is a kind of death for you. He is moving toward his death."
She added, “I couldn’t worship him in life. How do you worship one whose diapers you’ve changed? No, he was always my son in this life. It wasn’t until after my death that I could worship him.” True for all of us, really...
Were Mary’s ponderings so different from those of any new mother? The stakes were higher, perhaps – but also the knowledge that, if this truly was a movement of God, then God would continue to be the mover. I hope she had that confidence, and that it bore her through the rough times.
I hope that for us, as well, as we bear Christ’s presence and light into this world. God sends signs for us, too.
12-28-22 - Use Your Words
You can listen to this reflection here. Today's gospel reading is here.
“Use your words.” I never thought to compare the God who rules the universe with a pre-verbal toddler, struggling to make herself understood, but that comes to mind as I think about the holy mystery at the heart of Christmas:
And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth…
Why was the Incarnation of God’s Son necessary? In part, because of a communications breakdown. Because humankind could not understand the language in which God was communicating. We could not understand who God was. God had to use his Word – and give that Word flesh and send that Word to “pitch tent” among us and sojourn with us for a time, so that he could make God known to us.
No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.
Jesus himself is worthy of our interest and attention and devotion. But if we forget that all that love and power and mercy and holiness and desire for justice was revealing to us who God is, we miss more than half the point. Jesus was simply demonstrating how things work in the realm of God, the Life of God. He was showing us God, making God known.
At Christmas, we celebrate God made known in the most vulnerable of states – and yet powerful enough to command the attendance of kings and angels. And, I hope, compelling enough to command our attention and love, in this 12-day season when we celebrate his wondrous birth. Christmas is just getting started.
God used his Word to make God’s love known. I pray that today, and every day, we will use our words to make God’s love known to one another, and to a world thirsty for meaning and connection.
“Use your words.” I never thought to compare the God who rules the universe with a pre-verbal toddler, struggling to make herself understood, but that comes to mind as I think about the holy mystery at the heart of Christmas:
And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth…
Why was the Incarnation of God’s Son necessary? In part, because of a communications breakdown. Because humankind could not understand the language in which God was communicating. We could not understand who God was. God had to use his Word – and give that Word flesh and send that Word to “pitch tent” among us and sojourn with us for a time, so that he could make God known to us.
No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.
Jesus himself is worthy of our interest and attention and devotion. But if we forget that all that love and power and mercy and holiness and desire for justice was revealing to us who God is, we miss more than half the point. Jesus was simply demonstrating how things work in the realm of God, the Life of God. He was showing us God, making God known.
At Christmas, we celebrate God made known in the most vulnerable of states – and yet powerful enough to command the attendance of kings and angels. And, I hope, compelling enough to command our attention and love, in this 12-day season when we celebrate his wondrous birth. Christmas is just getting started.
God used his Word to make God’s love known. I pray that today, and every day, we will use our words to make God’s love known to one another, and to a world thirsty for meaning and connection.
12-27-22 - How Did We Hear This Story?
You can listen to this reflection here.
There are so many people to reflect on in our Christmas story. Today let's look at these shepherds, who felt compelled to check out the tale told them by the heavenly messengers that night of Jesus’ birth:
So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.
“When they saw this, they made known…and all who heard it were amazed....” Who wouldn’t be amazed! It’s a great story, even filtered through centuries and translations; imagine hearing it from an eyewitness. That’s most likely how the narratives of Jesus’ birth came into circulation among his early followers.
Not all the gospels tell these stories – Mark either had not heard them, or considered them extraneous to the story of the ministry and passion of the grown-up Jesus. John goes waaaay back to the beginning of time to start his telling, skipping over the messy details of a human birth. Matthew tells the story from the perspective of Jesus’ earthly father, Joseph, and includes the visitors from the East. It is Luke who writes of angels and prophecies, rulers and politics, a very human mother and father, a stable, a feed-trough – and those first witnesses, shepherds from the Judean hills.
How did Luke, the Hellenic follower of Christ, hear about those shepherds? Did Mary tell the tales later in life, after Jesus’ death and resurrection, living near Ephesus in the care of the disciple John? Or did folks hear them from the shepherds themselves, and pass along the tale, one person to another, one town to the next, perhaps embellishing but getting the main details right?
There are people who read about Jesus in the bible and in books and come to believe. But more often, faith is transmitted person-to-person, through stories of encounter. Our stories may not feel as dramatic as the one those shepherds must have told, but I bet each one of us has experienced God in some way that made a difference to us. Chances are, our stories will make a difference to other people with whom we choose to share them. Reactions might vary, but at the least we will provide one more data point that one day might tip the scales toward faith. We can never know what will happen, only that our God-stories come with an imperative to be shared.
When have you most recently or most vividly encountered the presence or peace or power of God? Bring that to mind. Who might want to hear that story? Who might be amazed at what you make known to them of Jesus?
There are so many people to reflect on in our Christmas story. Today let's look at these shepherds, who felt compelled to check out the tale told them by the heavenly messengers that night of Jesus’ birth:
So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.
“When they saw this, they made known…and all who heard it were amazed....” Who wouldn’t be amazed! It’s a great story, even filtered through centuries and translations; imagine hearing it from an eyewitness. That’s most likely how the narratives of Jesus’ birth came into circulation among his early followers.
Not all the gospels tell these stories – Mark either had not heard them, or considered them extraneous to the story of the ministry and passion of the grown-up Jesus. John goes waaaay back to the beginning of time to start his telling, skipping over the messy details of a human birth. Matthew tells the story from the perspective of Jesus’ earthly father, Joseph, and includes the visitors from the East. It is Luke who writes of angels and prophecies, rulers and politics, a very human mother and father, a stable, a feed-trough – and those first witnesses, shepherds from the Judean hills.
How did Luke, the Hellenic follower of Christ, hear about those shepherds? Did Mary tell the tales later in life, after Jesus’ death and resurrection, living near Ephesus in the care of the disciple John? Or did folks hear them from the shepherds themselves, and pass along the tale, one person to another, one town to the next, perhaps embellishing but getting the main details right?
There are people who read about Jesus in the bible and in books and come to believe. But more often, faith is transmitted person-to-person, through stories of encounter. Our stories may not feel as dramatic as the one those shepherds must have told, but I bet each one of us has experienced God in some way that made a difference to us. Chances are, our stories will make a difference to other people with whom we choose to share them. Reactions might vary, but at the least we will provide one more data point that one day might tip the scales toward faith. We can never know what will happen, only that our God-stories come with an imperative to be shared.
When have you most recently or most vividly encountered the presence or peace or power of God? Bring that to mind. Who might want to hear that story? Who might be amazed at what you make known to them of Jesus?
12-23-22 - Shepherds and Angels - and You
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The stable wasn’t the only center of action that original Christmas – God’s great production had multiple locations and a huge cast. The holy child birthed and swaddled, we fade out on the manger and shift focus to the fields outside Bethlehem, to a group of shepherds “keeping watch over their flocks by night.” Flocks were precious assets, and nighttime perilous – predators, thieves; many dangers lurked.
Herding sheep was not a glamorous profession in Jesus’ time, if ever. Shepherds were considered the dregs of society, dirty, crude, unkempt, the last ones on earth you’d think would be the first to hear world-transforming news. But our God of surprises doesn’t see in such categories. The least likely became the first – does that sound familiar?
And not only the first to hear; this earthy bunch were the recipients of a celestial visit, a host of angels. The highest possible order of being, shining with the glory of the Lord, and rough-hewn riff-raff, brought together on that bright hillside to share joy.
“In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”
Think God was up to something? Think God is still up to something? A bunch of folks from whom no one expected anything good were entrusted with the best news of all – the birth of the Messiah, a savior, the Lord. This revelation, backed up by the most amazing light show ever seen, became their news to tell. To be the bearer of news everyone wants to hear – that’s quite a status upgrade.
Of the many messages in this strange tale we tell over and over, here is one: no one, no kind of person, no category of person is insignificant in God’s eyes. In God’s Life the most marginalized – even the most objectionable – can become the center of the story.
The stable wasn’t the only center of action that original Christmas – God’s great production had multiple locations and a huge cast. The holy child birthed and swaddled, we fade out on the manger and shift focus to the fields outside Bethlehem, to a group of shepherds “keeping watch over their flocks by night.” Flocks were precious assets, and nighttime perilous – predators, thieves; many dangers lurked.
Herding sheep was not a glamorous profession in Jesus’ time, if ever. Shepherds were considered the dregs of society, dirty, crude, unkempt, the last ones on earth you’d think would be the first to hear world-transforming news. But our God of surprises doesn’t see in such categories. The least likely became the first – does that sound familiar?
And not only the first to hear; this earthy bunch were the recipients of a celestial visit, a host of angels. The highest possible order of being, shining with the glory of the Lord, and rough-hewn riff-raff, brought together on that bright hillside to share joy.
“In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”
Think God was up to something? Think God is still up to something? A bunch of folks from whom no one expected anything good were entrusted with the best news of all – the birth of the Messiah, a savior, the Lord. This revelation, backed up by the most amazing light show ever seen, became their news to tell. To be the bearer of news everyone wants to hear – that’s quite a status upgrade.
Of the many messages in this strange tale we tell over and over, here is one: no one, no kind of person, no category of person is insignificant in God’s eyes. In God’s Life the most marginalized – even the most objectionable – can become the center of the story.
“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
Who is on the margins of your life, or your community’s life? Can you invite someone into the center? Can you honor the least likely person by entrusting him with this amazing news? Maybe you feel like you are the least likely person. Know this: God has chosen you to share God’s most precious gift. Wrap your mind around that while you’re wrapping presents.
For a little while that night, there was peace, there was joy, there was amazement and wonder, shared between shepherds and angels, earth and heaven. I pray that for us, as we hear or tell the Magnificent Story again tomorrow night, as we look for those at the edges and invite them into the center: Peace. Joy. Amazement. Wonder. O come, let us adore him!
Who is on the margins of your life, or your community’s life? Can you invite someone into the center? Can you honor the least likely person by entrusting him with this amazing news? Maybe you feel like you are the least likely person. Know this: God has chosen you to share God’s most precious gift. Wrap your mind around that while you’re wrapping presents.
For a little while that night, there was peace, there was joy, there was amazement and wonder, shared between shepherds and angels, earth and heaven. I pray that for us, as we hear or tell the Magnificent Story again tomorrow night, as we look for those at the edges and invite them into the center: Peace. Joy. Amazement. Wonder. O come, let us adore him!
12-22-22 - A Child For Us
You can listen to this reflection here.
Abstract or concrete? Philosophy or story? How do you take your theology? Straight up or with a twist? The gospels are flexible enough to incorporate many learning styles.
On Christmas Eve, we will be steeped in story, personal and intimate, sweeping and glorious, each element a rich vein of symbol and language to speak of how much God loves us. But the way the Gospel of John tells the story, and the way the prophets foretoldl it can be more abstract. John begins: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
Right off the bat, we are invited to suspend our literal mindedness (“how can something be with God and be God?”) and enter a swirl of words that convey a truth. What does “Word” mean? Most likely “logos,” translated as “word,” means something closer to “mind” or the “primal thought” of God. Does that make it more or less confusing?
That first paragraph tells the whole story – of what was before we were, of creation, of life and light, and light overcoming darkness. That is what is promised in the prophecy from Isaiah often read on Christmas:
"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness— on them light has shined."
This great light, the prophet says, will shake up the nations and put an end to war –
Abstract or concrete? Philosophy or story? How do you take your theology? Straight up or with a twist? The gospels are flexible enough to incorporate many learning styles.
On Christmas Eve, we will be steeped in story, personal and intimate, sweeping and glorious, each element a rich vein of symbol and language to speak of how much God loves us. But the way the Gospel of John tells the story, and the way the prophets foretoldl it can be more abstract. John begins: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
Right off the bat, we are invited to suspend our literal mindedness (“how can something be with God and be God?”) and enter a swirl of words that convey a truth. What does “Word” mean? Most likely “logos,” translated as “word,” means something closer to “mind” or the “primal thought” of God. Does that make it more or less confusing?
That first paragraph tells the whole story – of what was before we were, of creation, of life and light, and light overcoming darkness. That is what is promised in the prophecy from Isaiah often read on Christmas:
"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness— on them light has shined."
This great light, the prophet says, will shake up the nations and put an end to war –
"For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire."
And who will bring about this world transformation? A child. An infant with the weight of the world on his shoulders: "For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders..."
And from John again: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”
This Son of God is a son given to us. Entrusted to humanity. Imagine. We wouldn't have known to ask for a child - God's people asked for a rescue mission, a savior, a bringer of justice, maybe a healer. Who would have known that this One would have to be one we could have relationship with?
The story of God, so far away, so holy, so “other,” moving into our neighborhood and settling down so that we can draw near – that’s a story that never gets old. It is hard to convey it as Good News to a people for whom it has become hum-drum, and to others for whom “God” is entirely irrelevant, but I believe it is the heart of the gift Christians have for the world. I will continue to try to get inside that mystery and discover the “Word made flesh” who wants to know me and be known by me.
However it is that you best comprehend the story of God’s amazing love and desire to be close to you, I hope you are both shaken and stirred.
And who will bring about this world transformation? A child. An infant with the weight of the world on his shoulders: "For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders..."
And from John again: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”
This Son of God is a son given to us. Entrusted to humanity. Imagine. We wouldn't have known to ask for a child - God's people asked for a rescue mission, a savior, a bringer of justice, maybe a healer. Who would have known that this One would have to be one we could have relationship with?
The story of God, so far away, so holy, so “other,” moving into our neighborhood and settling down so that we can draw near – that’s a story that never gets old. It is hard to convey it as Good News to a people for whom it has become hum-drum, and to others for whom “God” is entirely irrelevant, but I believe it is the heart of the gift Christians have for the world. I will continue to try to get inside that mystery and discover the “Word made flesh” who wants to know me and be known by me.
However it is that you best comprehend the story of God’s amazing love and desire to be close to you, I hope you are both shaken and stirred.
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