You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Sunday mornings would be a lot messier in our churches had Jesus added the words, “Do this in remembrance of me” after serving his disciples breakfast on the beach. “Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish.” That action no doubt had some resonance for the disciples, reminding them not only of their last supper with Jesus a few weeks’ prior, but also that picnic on a hillside, when five loaves and two fish fed thousands.
But Jesus does get serious after the fish-fry: When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.”
Jesus asks this question of Peter three times, and each time Peter answers, with increasing frustration, “You know I love you.” Jesus addresses him not by the nickname he had given him, “Petros,” but by his given name, “Simon bar Jonah.” Perhaps Jesus doesn't want to resume the familiar appellation until they’ve dealt with the business of Peter’s denying him the night he was arrested. That would account for the triple interrogation, inviting Peter to affirm his love as many times as he had denied his Lord.
But Jesus has more on his mind than reconciliation. With each “Do you love me?” “Yes, you know I love you,” he adds a command: “Feed my lambs.” “Tend my sheep.” “Feed my sheep.” He predicts a martyr’s death for his beloved friend, and ends the conversation the way he began it by the Sea of Galilee three years earlier, “Follow me.” At that time, Peter and the others followed with excitement and anticipation borne of ignorance and hope. Now they know so much better what it means to follow Christ, to the cross and beyond. Yet their job description is simpler now: Feed my lambs.
There can be no following Jesus, no loving Jesus without some outward manifestation of that love. Sometimes that involves physically feeding those who hunger; the world has no shortage of people who need food. Yet I doubt Jesus was talking only about physical hunger. He was telling us to tend the spiritually hungry, the weak, confused, misguided, vulnerable – all of us, at some time or other. He is inviting us – commanding us – to join him in taking care of humanity, one human at a time.
Who are the lambs for whom you’ve been given oversight? Do you feel called to tend some whom you don’t know yet? And are you letting Jesus feed you? Through whom?
We are all sheep in Christ’s flock, and we are all shepherds who join him in caring for other sheep. The feasting with Jesus on the beach (or wherever our latest feast with Jesus takes place…) is of a piece with the feeding of others. Who are they and where do we find them? Well, Jesus made that easy too. “Follow me,” he said.
© 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 Easter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Easter. Show all posts
4-30-25 - Who Is That Guy?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
We don’t always recognize God’s activity in our lives until after the fact – after an accident has been avoided, “coincidental” timing confirmed, an unexpected encounter opened into new opportunities. And we rarely experience God where we expect God to be. Jesus’ disciples certainly didn’t expect him to show up on a beach by the Sea of Tiberias. So they did not recognize him – until they saw his handiwork, which they had witnessed (in Luke’s account) at the beginning of their story with Jesus.
So they cast the net, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. But the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, only about a hundred yards off.
It amuses me that the naked Peter puts on clothes to jump into the water – it just wouldn’t do to greet his risen Lord and Savior in his birthday suit. And once they realize it is Jesus on the shore, all of them hurry to get there, though it must have taken a lot of muscle to pull those heavy nets. And then someone ignored the crucified and risen Lord in order to count the fish, for John records there were 153 of them (fishermen, like baseball fans, do love their stats…) John also mentions that, “though there were so many, the net was not torn,” perhaps to emphasize that God’s work is always to make things whole.
Because we don’t expect to see Jesus around and about in our lives, we don't always notice where he is. But we can learn to notice. Becoming attuned to where Jesus is, where the Holy Spirit is moving and shaking things up, is essential for those who want to be part of the Jesus movement. We are called to join him where he is already working, or to prepare the place where he wants to come next. We don’t have to do anything on our own. So we need to learn to recognize him, even before the “evidence” appears.
This is a habit of the heart we can cultivate as we do any other important activity or attitude. After a while, our spiritual sense becomes more acute, but at first we may have to work at it. Perhaps at the beginning of each day we can review our plans and pray about where we plan to join Jesus or want him to join us. And at the end of the day review where we’ve been, and write down where we realize in retrospect – or knew at the time – that he was present in some way.
How might he be present? He might have spoken through someone, or we might have found our attention drawn to something life-giving. We might have felt a peace or a holy urgency, or found ourselves compelled to draw near someone because of a gift they had or a need they manifested. Sometime we know he was there because he’s now gone, as happened to the disciples in Emmaus.
Notice. Name it. Write it down. Review it at the end of the week. In time, we will become so accustomed to Jesus being around, we won’t need miracles to get our attention.
© 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.
We don’t always recognize God’s activity in our lives until after the fact – after an accident has been avoided, “coincidental” timing confirmed, an unexpected encounter opened into new opportunities. And we rarely experience God where we expect God to be. Jesus’ disciples certainly didn’t expect him to show up on a beach by the Sea of Tiberias. So they did not recognize him – until they saw his handiwork, which they had witnessed (in Luke’s account) at the beginning of their story with Jesus.
So they cast the net, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. But the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, only about a hundred yards off.
It amuses me that the naked Peter puts on clothes to jump into the water – it just wouldn’t do to greet his risen Lord and Savior in his birthday suit. And once they realize it is Jesus on the shore, all of them hurry to get there, though it must have taken a lot of muscle to pull those heavy nets. And then someone ignored the crucified and risen Lord in order to count the fish, for John records there were 153 of them (fishermen, like baseball fans, do love their stats…) John also mentions that, “though there were so many, the net was not torn,” perhaps to emphasize that God’s work is always to make things whole.
Because we don’t expect to see Jesus around and about in our lives, we don't always notice where he is. But we can learn to notice. Becoming attuned to where Jesus is, where the Holy Spirit is moving and shaking things up, is essential for those who want to be part of the Jesus movement. We are called to join him where he is already working, or to prepare the place where he wants to come next. We don’t have to do anything on our own. So we need to learn to recognize him, even before the “evidence” appears.
This is a habit of the heart we can cultivate as we do any other important activity or attitude. After a while, our spiritual sense becomes more acute, but at first we may have to work at it. Perhaps at the beginning of each day we can review our plans and pray about where we plan to join Jesus or want him to join us. And at the end of the day review where we’ve been, and write down where we realize in retrospect – or knew at the time – that he was present in some way.
How might he be present? He might have spoken through someone, or we might have found our attention drawn to something life-giving. We might have felt a peace or a holy urgency, or found ourselves compelled to draw near someone because of a gift they had or a need they manifested. Sometime we know he was there because he’s now gone, as happened to the disciples in Emmaus.
Notice. Name it. Write it down. Review it at the end of the week. In time, we will become so accustomed to Jesus being around, we won’t need miracles to get our attention.
© 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.
4-29-25 - God On the Sidelines
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Simon Peter was a professional fisherman before Jesus called him from his nets. He knew his way around a boat, a net, a lake, a school of fish. He knew how to do this – except that night, nothing. All night, no fish. And then some yahoo on the shore tries to tell him how do to it: Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, you have no fish, have you?” They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish.
I can imagine the language in that boat at this suggestion. “We’ve cast the nets on every *&@#%* side of the boat! Who is this guy?” And then perhaps more colorful language yet as their nets inexplicably become so full they could hardly move the boat.
Many of us have areas of life in which we don’t think we need God’s assistance. I often hear people say, “I don’t need to bother God with that!” or “We’re not at the point of needing prayer yet…” as though we're to deploy the “big guns” only as a last resort.
But God doesn’t want to be on the sidelines of our lives. God wants to be right smack dab in the middle of our work, rest, relationships, joys, frustrations, questions, convictions. Indeed, God wants to be working with us and through us. And could it be that the One who made all universes knows a thing or two about teaching, medicine, tax preparation, marketing, finance, law, or whatever it is we do for a living? What if we invited God’s presence at regular intervals into our work days? Someone I know was facing a tense work meeting – and remembered to invite Jesus. The meeting went better than she could have imagined, and the relationship with that co-worker is prospering.
The Holy Spirit can help us in all our relationships, our stresses, our habits. And – surprise! – God can help us in our churches and ministries. We don’t have to put prayer and worship on one side and the “work of the church” on the other. It’s all of a piece. It’s all holy work, as we allow the Holy Spirit into it.
What is most frustrating to you in your life right now? Where do you feel stuck, jammed, not moving, not growing, in the dark, out to sea? Could it be that Jesus is nearby? Might he have a word to you? Have you asked his guidance? That can be scary – what if he doesn’t answer? Then we ask again.
Jesus said something about wanting us to be fruitful, so I’m guessing he will have a word to guide us. Maybe he’s already speaking it through someone we don’t want to listen to – and that might include our own deepest selves.
What if he’s already given us the answer? What “expertise” do we need to let go of in order to hear it?
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
I can imagine the language in that boat at this suggestion. “We’ve cast the nets on every *&@#%* side of the boat! Who is this guy?” And then perhaps more colorful language yet as their nets inexplicably become so full they could hardly move the boat.
Many of us have areas of life in which we don’t think we need God’s assistance. I often hear people say, “I don’t need to bother God with that!” or “We’re not at the point of needing prayer yet…” as though we're to deploy the “big guns” only as a last resort.
But God doesn’t want to be on the sidelines of our lives. God wants to be right smack dab in the middle of our work, rest, relationships, joys, frustrations, questions, convictions. Indeed, God wants to be working with us and through us. And could it be that the One who made all universes knows a thing or two about teaching, medicine, tax preparation, marketing, finance, law, or whatever it is we do for a living? What if we invited God’s presence at regular intervals into our work days? Someone I know was facing a tense work meeting – and remembered to invite Jesus. The meeting went better than she could have imagined, and the relationship with that co-worker is prospering.
The Holy Spirit can help us in all our relationships, our stresses, our habits. And – surprise! – God can help us in our churches and ministries. We don’t have to put prayer and worship on one side and the “work of the church” on the other. It’s all of a piece. It’s all holy work, as we allow the Holy Spirit into it.
What is most frustrating to you in your life right now? Where do you feel stuck, jammed, not moving, not growing, in the dark, out to sea? Could it be that Jesus is nearby? Might he have a word to you? Have you asked his guidance? That can be scary – what if he doesn’t answer? Then we ask again.
Jesus said something about wanting us to be fruitful, so I’m guessing he will have a word to guide us. Maybe he’s already speaking it through someone we don’t want to listen to – and that might include our own deepest selves.
What if he’s already given us the answer? What “expertise” do we need to let go of in order to hear it?
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
4-28-25 - No Turning Back
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This week we get to explore the most fun of all of Jesus’ recorded resurrection appearances – his beach-side fishing lesson/breakfast combo. It starts out low-key – Peter decides to go fishing, and six of his fellow disciples join him (two unnamed… I wonder why the evangelist John, who later tells us exactly how many fish were in the nets, couldn’t be bothered to find out who those two were...)
After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.
Why did Simon Peter decide to go fishing? Let’s review the tape: Jesus has risen from the dead. He has appeared at least twice in the locked room where the disciples have been hiding out. He has spoken peace to them, breathed the Spirit upon them and commissioned and sent them to bring forgiveness and release to the world. Only, they haven’t gone. He did all that on his first visit, and a week later they are still in the same room. He has also appeared to a few on the road to Emmaus, and in Galilee, and a few other times not spelled out in the gospels. But no one seems to know what to do next.
From what we know of Peter, he did not do well with inaction. He is a man of strength and impulse. Thomas too is shown in the story of Lazarus to be action-oriented and brave. Yet they don’t seem to know how to move forward in the situation in which they find themselves. Jesus is risen; that’s incomprehensible and wonderful, all at once. It also raises the risk levels – the authorities who executed Jesus might well want to stamp out his following. It’s not safe outside, yet they can’t stay in that room forever.
So Peter and his buddies go back to what they know. At least they can get out of Jerusalem, get out on the water they know and love, maybe even make a few bucks if they get a good catch. But they don’t catch a damn thing. Jesus had promised to make them fishers of men, and now they don't seem to know how to catch fish anymore! The movement of God is always forward, not back.
Have you ever tried going back to an old pastime, habit, relationship, milieu? It never works. The pull of the familiar is strong, but we worship the One who said, “I am making all things new.” (Rev. 21:5) We do need to get out of the locked rooms of our fear and distress, but before we go back to the last place we felt comfortable, it is good to ask God, “Where are you inviting me to join you next?” We can look around to see where God is at work, doing the things we know God does – healing, feeding, restoring, renewing, reconciling – and join God there. We can discern where our energy seems to rise, where we feel the winds of the Spirit blowing us.
Peter and his friends thought they were killing time, waiting for God to summon them. Little did they know that God was right there, inviting them to see the familiar in a whole new light. God is always up to something new – what is it in your neighborhood?
This week we get to explore the most fun of all of Jesus’ recorded resurrection appearances – his beach-side fishing lesson/breakfast combo. It starts out low-key – Peter decides to go fishing, and six of his fellow disciples join him (two unnamed… I wonder why the evangelist John, who later tells us exactly how many fish were in the nets, couldn’t be bothered to find out who those two were...)
After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.
Why did Simon Peter decide to go fishing? Let’s review the tape: Jesus has risen from the dead. He has appeared at least twice in the locked room where the disciples have been hiding out. He has spoken peace to them, breathed the Spirit upon them and commissioned and sent them to bring forgiveness and release to the world. Only, they haven’t gone. He did all that on his first visit, and a week later they are still in the same room. He has also appeared to a few on the road to Emmaus, and in Galilee, and a few other times not spelled out in the gospels. But no one seems to know what to do next.
From what we know of Peter, he did not do well with inaction. He is a man of strength and impulse. Thomas too is shown in the story of Lazarus to be action-oriented and brave. Yet they don’t seem to know how to move forward in the situation in which they find themselves. Jesus is risen; that’s incomprehensible and wonderful, all at once. It also raises the risk levels – the authorities who executed Jesus might well want to stamp out his following. It’s not safe outside, yet they can’t stay in that room forever.
So Peter and his buddies go back to what they know. At least they can get out of Jerusalem, get out on the water they know and love, maybe even make a few bucks if they get a good catch. But they don’t catch a damn thing. Jesus had promised to make them fishers of men, and now they don't seem to know how to catch fish anymore! The movement of God is always forward, not back.
Have you ever tried going back to an old pastime, habit, relationship, milieu? It never works. The pull of the familiar is strong, but we worship the One who said, “I am making all things new.” (Rev. 21:5) We do need to get out of the locked rooms of our fear and distress, but before we go back to the last place we felt comfortable, it is good to ask God, “Where are you inviting me to join you next?” We can look around to see where God is at work, doing the things we know God does – healing, feeding, restoring, renewing, reconciling – and join God there. We can discern where our energy seems to rise, where we feel the winds of the Spirit blowing us.
Peter and his friends thought they were killing time, waiting for God to summon them. Little did they know that God was right there, inviting them to see the familiar in a whole new light. God is always up to something new – what is it in your neighborhood?
4-25-25 - Life Through Believing
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Where do you find life? I don’t mean conception and birth; I mean, what quickens your pulse day-to-day? What causes energy to rise in you, excitement to tinge your voice? What – or who – could you talk about all day long if anyone would listen? That’s one way to discern where we find life.
Have you ever thought you could get life through believing? Believing seems a fairly passive activity – and yet it may just be the most courageous action we can take in a disbelieving world. We learn at the end of this week’s gospel reading that the reason John wrote his gospel was so that we might come to believe and have life: Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.
Jesus’ disciples came to believe he had risen from the dead because he stood in front of them; he surprised them on roads and at tables; he made breakfast for them on a beach. Though they did not really act on this knowledge until the Spirit filled them with power at Pentecost, they had the conviction of their experience, and ultimately died witnessing to that truth.
We have to believe on less tangible evidence – yet as we allow it to accumulate, as we really start to list all the “signs” of God’s power and love we have witnessed and experienced, we too can come to believe that Jesus is the Anointed One, the Son of God. And as we begin to exercise spiritual power in his name we find such abundant life, and more evidence piles up.
John says he wrote about the signs of Jesus’ presence so that his readers would come to believe. What if we started talking more often about the evidence we’ve seen of God’s movement in the world, in our lives? How many might come to believe – or at least, explore Jesus for themselves?
Think of the impact John’s Gospel has had on the world. Just one of your stories might change someone’s life, and allow them to have eternal life through believing. Which one will you tell first?
© 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.
Where do you find life? I don’t mean conception and birth; I mean, what quickens your pulse day-to-day? What causes energy to rise in you, excitement to tinge your voice? What – or who – could you talk about all day long if anyone would listen? That’s one way to discern where we find life.
Have you ever thought you could get life through believing? Believing seems a fairly passive activity – and yet it may just be the most courageous action we can take in a disbelieving world. We learn at the end of this week’s gospel reading that the reason John wrote his gospel was so that we might come to believe and have life: Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.
Jesus’ disciples came to believe he had risen from the dead because he stood in front of them; he surprised them on roads and at tables; he made breakfast for them on a beach. Though they did not really act on this knowledge until the Spirit filled them with power at Pentecost, they had the conviction of their experience, and ultimately died witnessing to that truth.
We have to believe on less tangible evidence – yet as we allow it to accumulate, as we really start to list all the “signs” of God’s power and love we have witnessed and experienced, we too can come to believe that Jesus is the Anointed One, the Son of God. And as we begin to exercise spiritual power in his name we find such abundant life, and more evidence piles up.
John says he wrote about the signs of Jesus’ presence so that his readers would come to believe. What if we started talking more often about the evidence we’ve seen of God’s movement in the world, in our lives? How many might come to believe – or at least, explore Jesus for themselves?
Think of the impact John’s Gospel has had on the world. Just one of your stories might change someone’s life, and allow them to have eternal life through believing. Which one will you tell first?
© 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.
4-24-25 - Blind Faith
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
IWe often associate faith with vision. Insight, perception, illumination are all words connected to sight. But think about it: true faith means being willing to live blind, to trust in what we cannot see. But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
Thomas was strong and courageous, devoted and steadfast. Yet he was short on faith – and until he was willing to become blind, he would never see.
Those who lack physical vision need to trust in many things – helpers, service animals, canes, the goodwill of the people around them. Many also report that, in the absence of sight, other senses become more acute. A sight-impaired person might feel a disturbance in the air that tells them someone has come into or left a room, or recognize someone by their scent, or their footsteps.
So it is with the life of faith. We voluntarily put our trust in things and people we cannot see, and as we do, we find our spiritual senses become more keenly developed. Maybe we become more sensitive to people in pain, or we can sense the presence of evil more acutely. As we spend time in prayer, we come to recognize the presence of Jesus, God as Father, the Holy Spirit. And as we learn to step out in faith when we feel the Spirit nudge us to do or say something, we often find those nudges become more frequent and vivid. We are learning to walk by faith, not by sight.
Jesus gave Thomas a break – he showed up again and let him see him, touch his wounds. “Do not doubt, but believe,” he said. And then he added a word for us: Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
I would go so far as to say we cannot grow in faith if we are not willing to become blind, to stop relying so heavily on what we can see with our eyes and perceive with our minds, to truly trust the instinctual life of the Spirit in and around us. What we perceive with our physical senses sometimes causes our faith to falter – we see the pain of the world, the ongoing illness of those for whom we have prayed, and that “evidence” can shut us down. Jesus invites us to lean instead on what cannot be seen, what can only be believed. Only then will our vision become sharp enough to see 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.
IWe often associate faith with vision. Insight, perception, illumination are all words connected to sight. But think about it: true faith means being willing to live blind, to trust in what we cannot see. But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
Thomas was strong and courageous, devoted and steadfast. Yet he was short on faith – and until he was willing to become blind, he would never see.
Those who lack physical vision need to trust in many things – helpers, service animals, canes, the goodwill of the people around them. Many also report that, in the absence of sight, other senses become more acute. A sight-impaired person might feel a disturbance in the air that tells them someone has come into or left a room, or recognize someone by their scent, or their footsteps.
So it is with the life of faith. We voluntarily put our trust in things and people we cannot see, and as we do, we find our spiritual senses become more keenly developed. Maybe we become more sensitive to people in pain, or we can sense the presence of evil more acutely. As we spend time in prayer, we come to recognize the presence of Jesus, God as Father, the Holy Spirit. And as we learn to step out in faith when we feel the Spirit nudge us to do or say something, we often find those nudges become more frequent and vivid. We are learning to walk by faith, not by sight.
Jesus gave Thomas a break – he showed up again and let him see him, touch his wounds. “Do not doubt, but believe,” he said. And then he added a word for us: Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
I would go so far as to say we cannot grow in faith if we are not willing to become blind, to stop relying so heavily on what we can see with our eyes and perceive with our minds, to truly trust the instinctual life of the Spirit in and around us. What we perceive with our physical senses sometimes causes our faith to falter – we see the pain of the world, the ongoing illness of those for whom we have prayed, and that “evidence” can shut us down. Jesus invites us to lean instead on what cannot be seen, what can only be believed. Only then will our vision become sharp enough to see 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.
4-23-25 - Our Super Power
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
If you could be granted a super power, what would it be? The ability to fly? Become invisible at will? Transform into another kind of being? Heal people just by touching them?
According to the Gospels, some of those super powers may be ours someday, if the properties of Jesus’ resurrection body have anything to tell us. And some of those super powers are already ours by faith through the gift of the Holy Spirit. But the first super power Jesus conferred upon his disciples when he returned to them Easter night was one we might not think to ask for – the power to forgive: Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”
This is the first gift of the Spirit mentioned in the Gospels. It is a power that can bring freedom and peace. And, like many super powers, it can be dangerous if abused - or neglected. The saints of God have the authority to forgive, to set free those who have caused harm to themselves or others. And the church (the saints of God) has the authority to withhold forgiveness, to keep people locked in the consequences of the harm they’ve caused. When the church forgets it has been given this authority, when it either devolves into self-righteous condemnation of others, or a wishy-washy "no problem, God loves you" sentimentality that ignores the real toxicity of sin, we end up with a whole lot of stuckness clogging our wheels, impeding our progress.
We can see the fruits of unforgiveness writ large in the American body politic. Many who claim the mantle of Christ seem to have gone out of the forgiveness business altogether, preferring to label and demonize, objectify and divide. Indeed, there are few temptations more corrosive than righteous indignation – it can fuel our anger and quell our compassion and point us inward. When large swaths of the population stop talking to – or listening to – other large groups, we become polarized and paralyzed. And when some do this in the name of Christ, the church is weakened.
We have received the Holy Spirit – in baptism, in communion, in prayer, in action. Before we seek the splashier gifts of the Spirit, what if we focus on our calling to be agents of forgiveness? I once read an interview with Thich Nhat Hanh, the late Buddhist spiritual teacher, on the subject of forgiveness. He said we have to deal with anger before we can forgive – and one way to deal with our anger is to cultivate compassion for those who are causing harm. We can ask God to show us why they have become that way, what unhealed wounds they are operating out of. And we ask God to show us the same about ourselves.
The super power to forgive – or not – has been given to us. Will we use it for good?
© 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.
If you could be granted a super power, what would it be? The ability to fly? Become invisible at will? Transform into another kind of being? Heal people just by touching them?
According to the Gospels, some of those super powers may be ours someday, if the properties of Jesus’ resurrection body have anything to tell us. And some of those super powers are already ours by faith through the gift of the Holy Spirit. But the first super power Jesus conferred upon his disciples when he returned to them Easter night was one we might not think to ask for – the power to forgive: Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”
This is the first gift of the Spirit mentioned in the Gospels. It is a power that can bring freedom and peace. And, like many super powers, it can be dangerous if abused - or neglected. The saints of God have the authority to forgive, to set free those who have caused harm to themselves or others. And the church (the saints of God) has the authority to withhold forgiveness, to keep people locked in the consequences of the harm they’ve caused. When the church forgets it has been given this authority, when it either devolves into self-righteous condemnation of others, or a wishy-washy "no problem, God loves you" sentimentality that ignores the real toxicity of sin, we end up with a whole lot of stuckness clogging our wheels, impeding our progress.
We can see the fruits of unforgiveness writ large in the American body politic. Many who claim the mantle of Christ seem to have gone out of the forgiveness business altogether, preferring to label and demonize, objectify and divide. Indeed, there are few temptations more corrosive than righteous indignation – it can fuel our anger and quell our compassion and point us inward. When large swaths of the population stop talking to – or listening to – other large groups, we become polarized and paralyzed. And when some do this in the name of Christ, the church is weakened.
We have received the Holy Spirit – in baptism, in communion, in prayer, in action. Before we seek the splashier gifts of the Spirit, what if we focus on our calling to be agents of forgiveness? I once read an interview with Thich Nhat Hanh, the late Buddhist spiritual teacher, on the subject of forgiveness. He said we have to deal with anger before we can forgive – and one way to deal with our anger is to cultivate compassion for those who are causing harm. We can ask God to show us why they have become that way, what unhealed wounds they are operating out of. And we ask God to show us the same about ourselves.
The super power to forgive – or not – has been given to us. Will we use it for good?
© 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.
4-22-25 - Fear and Rejoicing
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The Big Day is over. Put away the Easter bonnets and the lilies – we’re back to regular life. (And if you’re clergy, you’re in the Easter Week brain fog of exhaustion…). Christ is risen? Oh yeah, Alleluia.
Only, it’s not over. In church time Easter goes on for seven weeks – seven weeks to begin to comprehend what those Alleluias are all about. And in Gospel time, it’s still Easter Day, still that First Day of the week, First Day of the new creation, First Day of forever. And Jesus’ disciples are not celebrating; they’re terrified. When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.
They may have begun to wrap their minds around the fact that Jesus appeared to be very much alive, inexplicably, miraculously. But they certainly haven’t figured out how. And his risen-ness presents a more immediate problem: now they are at greater risk. They were already anxious – witness Peter’s haste to disavow his friendship with Jesus when questioned. But now they are truly scared. The authorities who put Jesus to death will not welcome these developments. They might well want to stamp out any hint of this Jesus movement and eliminate all witnesses.
Into this turmoil, Jesus appears. Not through the door. Not through a window. He is just suddenly there, standing among them, speaking peace to them, showing them his wounds.
So it can be for us, as we can become aware of him. When we’re in the midst of turmoil or terror, malady or malaise, sometimes we forget that Jesus can get into the room. We think we have to invite him, or worse, that we have to get our act together before he’ll drop by. But he just shows up, speaks peace upon us and upon our circumstances, and shows us his wounds like a calling card, a calling card that says, “I know a bit about suffering. I know what it’s like to be alone and forsaken. I have not forgotten you. I will never leave you or forsake you. You can find healing for your wounds in mine.”
In what situation in your life might you need to recall Jesus’ presence? Pray to become aware of where he is in that room. Talk to him, tell him what you’re going through, listen for his responses. Receive his peace, for it is hard won and it sticks.
The disciples found their terror turned to rejoicing as they realized he was truly alive among them. Five minutes earlier they would been unable to fathom rejoicing. And yet, there they were. And there he was. And joy is. Alleluia! Christ is Risen! The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
The Big Day is over. Put away the Easter bonnets and the lilies – we’re back to regular life. (And if you’re clergy, you’re in the Easter Week brain fog of exhaustion…). Christ is risen? Oh yeah, Alleluia.
Only, it’s not over. In church time Easter goes on for seven weeks – seven weeks to begin to comprehend what those Alleluias are all about. And in Gospel time, it’s still Easter Day, still that First Day of the week, First Day of the new creation, First Day of forever. And Jesus’ disciples are not celebrating; they’re terrified. When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.
They may have begun to wrap their minds around the fact that Jesus appeared to be very much alive, inexplicably, miraculously. But they certainly haven’t figured out how. And his risen-ness presents a more immediate problem: now they are at greater risk. They were already anxious – witness Peter’s haste to disavow his friendship with Jesus when questioned. But now they are truly scared. The authorities who put Jesus to death will not welcome these developments. They might well want to stamp out any hint of this Jesus movement and eliminate all witnesses.
Into this turmoil, Jesus appears. Not through the door. Not through a window. He is just suddenly there, standing among them, speaking peace to them, showing them his wounds.
So it can be for us, as we can become aware of him. When we’re in the midst of turmoil or terror, malady or malaise, sometimes we forget that Jesus can get into the room. We think we have to invite him, or worse, that we have to get our act together before he’ll drop by. But he just shows up, speaks peace upon us and upon our circumstances, and shows us his wounds like a calling card, a calling card that says, “I know a bit about suffering. I know what it’s like to be alone and forsaken. I have not forgotten you. I will never leave you or forsake you. You can find healing for your wounds in mine.”
In what situation in your life might you need to recall Jesus’ presence? Pray to become aware of where he is in that room. Talk to him, tell him what you’re going through, listen for his responses. Receive his peace, for it is hard won and it sticks.
The disciples found their terror turned to rejoicing as they realized he was truly alive among them. Five minutes earlier they would been unable to fathom rejoicing. And yet, there they were. And there he was. And joy is. Alleluia! Christ is Risen! The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!
© 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.
4-21-25 - Easter's Promise For the Earth
You can listen to this reflection here. This reading for Easter Sunday is here.
One of the passages assigned for Easter Sunday is Isaiah’s prophetic vision of the new heavens and the new earth God is bringing into being, a promise which came irrevocably into view when Jesus walked out of that tomb Easter morning. It is a fitting vision to explore for Earth Day tomorrow.
God speaks through the prophet: I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating…
He says of the people of Israel, They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat; for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands.
This is a vision of a humanity in harmony with the created order, of people growing enough food for their own harvest, not laboring on factory farms for low wages. It suggests a community with low rates of infant mortality, and longevity for the aged – and for trees! Even predator-prey relationships are brought into harmony: The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
Easter promises that this vision is already coming to pass, and comes more quickly as we engage in the faithful work of bringing it into being. That means faith as much as work – believing that God is in the business of reclaiming, restoring and renewing all of creation to wholeness in Christ, and participating in that mission wherever and whenever we feel the Spirit’s nudges.
Does this mean that, because God is bringing this new thing into being, we need not fear the ravages of climate change? No, it does not mean that, any more than God’s promise of healing means that we stop addressing cancer or pandemics, as though people had stopped dying. God still asks us to participate in bringing God’s power to bear on situations. That means exercising faith in prayer and exercising grace in how we live. God’s gift of free will continues to mean that we live with the consequences of our choices and those of others. AND God’s gift of faith and the Holy Spirit’s power mean that we become better able to make choices that bring healing and restoration rather than continued degradation to this earth and its plants and trees and birds and animals.
Where do you want your grandchildren to live? In an earth increasingly ransacked for its resources, with rising sea levels and extreme weather, floods and drought, fires and famine? Or in that new earth where there is plenty as people share their resources, and mutual thriving among populations and the natural world?
We can start by cultivating a spirit of gratitude and respect for the life around us, ALL the life around us, and living in sacred relationship with all of it. As we do that, we become far less willing to see it ravaged and wasted, and much more eager to help bring that New Earth into view. Happy Earth Day! Happy Easter!
© 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.
One of the passages assigned for Easter Sunday is Isaiah’s prophetic vision of the new heavens and the new earth God is bringing into being, a promise which came irrevocably into view when Jesus walked out of that tomb Easter morning. It is a fitting vision to explore for Earth Day tomorrow.
God speaks through the prophet: I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating…
He says of the people of Israel, They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat; for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands.
This is a vision of a humanity in harmony with the created order, of people growing enough food for their own harvest, not laboring on factory farms for low wages. It suggests a community with low rates of infant mortality, and longevity for the aged – and for trees! Even predator-prey relationships are brought into harmony: The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
Easter promises that this vision is already coming to pass, and comes more quickly as we engage in the faithful work of bringing it into being. That means faith as much as work – believing that God is in the business of reclaiming, restoring and renewing all of creation to wholeness in Christ, and participating in that mission wherever and whenever we feel the Spirit’s nudges.
Does this mean that, because God is bringing this new thing into being, we need not fear the ravages of climate change? No, it does not mean that, any more than God’s promise of healing means that we stop addressing cancer or pandemics, as though people had stopped dying. God still asks us to participate in bringing God’s power to bear on situations. That means exercising faith in prayer and exercising grace in how we live. God’s gift of free will continues to mean that we live with the consequences of our choices and those of others. AND God’s gift of faith and the Holy Spirit’s power mean that we become better able to make choices that bring healing and restoration rather than continued degradation to this earth and its plants and trees and birds and animals.
Where do you want your grandchildren to live? In an earth increasingly ransacked for its resources, with rising sea levels and extreme weather, floods and drought, fires and famine? Or in that new earth where there is plenty as people share their resources, and mutual thriving among populations and the natural world?
We can start by cultivating a spirit of gratitude and respect for the life around us, ALL the life around us, and living in sacred relationship with all of it. As we do that, we become far less willing to see it ravaged and wasted, and much more eager to help bring that New Earth into view. Happy Earth Day! Happy Easter!
© 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.
4-19-25 - Joseph of Arimathea
You can listen to this reflection here. Each day this Holy Week we have used the gospel appointed for the day, and heard from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this has helped engage our imaginations as we walk this story with Jesus. Today we reflect on John 19:38-42, about how Jesus was buried. We hear from:
Joseph of Arimathea: Am I to have the last word, then? I, who am most on the edges of this story? Even my friend Nicodemus, who helped me prepare his body for burial, even he has his own chapter in the tale. But what do you know about me?
That I am a rich man, rich enough to have my own tomb set aside, waiting for my death. That I come from Arimathea – a place you’ve never heard of, a village in the hill country of Ephraim, in Judea, 20 miles northwest of Jerusalem. That I am a member of the Council, the Jewish leadership, like Nicodemus. That I had become one of Jesus’ disciples, but secretly, because, unlike my Lord, I was afraid of what my brethren on the Council would do to me if they knew what I believed. Who I believed in. I was not ready to lose my position, my livelihood, my life. I was not ready to die.
But I can offer what I can offer. That’s all any of us can do. I had a tomb, and Jesus’ broken, bloodied body needed a place of rest. I had the connections to approach Pilate and get permission to take Jesus’ body away from that place of skulls. I had the means to provide proper linens and spices for burial, so in death Jesus’ body would receive the care it never had in life. I offered what I could. What can you?
God never asks us to give something we don’t have… and among all that we do have, there is much that can advance God’s mission of restoration and renewal in this world. What might you offer?
© 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.
Joseph of Arimathea: Am I to have the last word, then? I, who am most on the edges of this story? Even my friend Nicodemus, who helped me prepare his body for burial, even he has his own chapter in the tale. But what do you know about me?
That I am a rich man, rich enough to have my own tomb set aside, waiting for my death. That I come from Arimathea – a place you’ve never heard of, a village in the hill country of Ephraim, in Judea, 20 miles northwest of Jerusalem. That I am a member of the Council, the Jewish leadership, like Nicodemus. That I had become one of Jesus’ disciples, but secretly, because, unlike my Lord, I was afraid of what my brethren on the Council would do to me if they knew what I believed. Who I believed in. I was not ready to lose my position, my livelihood, my life. I was not ready to die.
But I can offer what I can offer. That’s all any of us can do. I had a tomb, and Jesus’ broken, bloodied body needed a place of rest. I had the connections to approach Pilate and get permission to take Jesus’ body away from that place of skulls. I had the means to provide proper linens and spices for burial, so in death Jesus’ body would receive the care it never had in life. I offered what I could. What can you?
God never asks us to give something we don’t have… and among all that we do have, there is much that can advance God’s mission of restoration and renewal in this world. What might you offer?
© 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.
3-21-25 - The Gardener
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The more I reflect on this parable Jesus told, the more I like this gardener. To the owner who wants to cut down a fig tree that has borne no fruit for three years, he says this: “Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig round it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.”
I appreciate Jesus highlighting a character who has both compassion and inclination to think strategically about how to remedy a situation. Rather than blaming the victim and diverting resources, this gardener thinks in transformational terms. He is also realistic. He knows sometimes you can improve a situation and do your best to get resources where they’re needed, and still end up fruitless. Anyone who has ever worked with addicts or people stuck in ruts of chronic poverty recognizes that heartbreak. And yet, such workers also see transformation of people and lives and communities – that’s what keeps them digging and fertilizing, tending and watering.
As I read the parable again (remembering that we can see it differently from one time to the next), I see the gardener as Jesus, who came that we might have life and have it in abundance, who yearned for his followers to bear abundant fruit. Though he could be ruthless with the powerful and self-righteous, he was both clear and compassionate with those who struggled with failure. He invited the broken and the sinful into relationship, offering forgiveness and friendship and the opportunity to serve others. And one by one those who followed him became transformed and fruitful. The extra care and time yielded fruit.
Jesus has done the same for us. We may not always want his hand reaching toward us; we’d rather he kept his digging and fertilizing for someone else. Other times we’re well aware of how much like that fig tree we are. What Good News it is to know we have a gardener who wants to tend and nurture us to greater growth. Just accepting that News can strengthen our roots, as we’re humble enough to receive it.
Two images of gardener come to us from our scriptures. One is in the story of creation in Genesis, when we’re told that, after creating the first human being, “The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it.” Humankind’s original purpose was to be a gardener.
The other image, which I cannot but hold together with this first, comes on the first day of the new creation, Easter morning, when the resurrected Jesus stood in a garden speaking to one of those reclaimed fig trees, Mary Magdalene. She didn’t recognize him; she thought he was the gardener. Perhaps she was right.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
The more I reflect on this parable Jesus told, the more I like this gardener. To the owner who wants to cut down a fig tree that has borne no fruit for three years, he says this: “Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig round it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.”
I appreciate Jesus highlighting a character who has both compassion and inclination to think strategically about how to remedy a situation. Rather than blaming the victim and diverting resources, this gardener thinks in transformational terms. He is also realistic. He knows sometimes you can improve a situation and do your best to get resources where they’re needed, and still end up fruitless. Anyone who has ever worked with addicts or people stuck in ruts of chronic poverty recognizes that heartbreak. And yet, such workers also see transformation of people and lives and communities – that’s what keeps them digging and fertilizing, tending and watering.
As I read the parable again (remembering that we can see it differently from one time to the next), I see the gardener as Jesus, who came that we might have life and have it in abundance, who yearned for his followers to bear abundant fruit. Though he could be ruthless with the powerful and self-righteous, he was both clear and compassionate with those who struggled with failure. He invited the broken and the sinful into relationship, offering forgiveness and friendship and the opportunity to serve others. And one by one those who followed him became transformed and fruitful. The extra care and time yielded fruit.
Jesus has done the same for us. We may not always want his hand reaching toward us; we’d rather he kept his digging and fertilizing for someone else. Other times we’re well aware of how much like that fig tree we are. What Good News it is to know we have a gardener who wants to tend and nurture us to greater growth. Just accepting that News can strengthen our roots, as we’re humble enough to receive it.
Two images of gardener come to us from our scriptures. One is in the story of creation in Genesis, when we’re told that, after creating the first human being, “The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it.” Humankind’s original purpose was to be a gardener.
The other image, which I cannot but hold together with this first, comes on the first day of the new creation, Easter morning, when the resurrected Jesus stood in a garden speaking to one of those reclaimed fig trees, Mary Magdalene. She didn’t recognize him; she thought he was the gardener. Perhaps she was right.
© 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.
5-2-24 - No Longer Servants
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
There are promotions – and then there are status upgrades. Jesus' followers got one of those his last evening among them. He told them what it means to abide in his love, live by his rules, love one another with the kind of love they received from him. He said, “You are my friends if you do what I command you.”
In a culture in which people attached themselves to a spiritual master whom they served and revered, followed and learned from, this language of friendship might have sounded jarring. So Jesus explained, “I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.”
Being someone’s servant and being their friend are very different. Servanthood can be easier – you have no responsibility to get to know, strategize, plan, or achieve a vision. You need only fulfill the tasks assigned you with all the skill and commitment you can muster, anticipating needs as appropriate. And then collect your paycheck and take your assigned time off. There is a simplicity to contractual, hierarchical relationships.
Friendship, with its mutuality and intimacy, is much messier; covenantal, not contractual, with commitment to nurturing and growing the friendship. Friends are responsible for one another in a way that a supervisor and servant are not. Friends are recipients of each other’s joys and worries and confidences. This is what Jesus highlights; he says he has entrusted his followers with everything he has heard from God the Father. That must have been daunting to hear.
Yet it must also have been exhilarating to be told they were his friends. If we work for someone we respect and admire, it’s a rush to be elevated from employee to friend. There is more freedom and collegiality, along with more responsibility.
Sometimes in the church we can act more like polite admirers, or pack mules struggling up a hill than as independent, respected, friends of the Living God. Is it easier to think we work for Jesus rather than with him? Jesus didn't ask us to work for him. He wants us working with him, filled with his Spirit, not checking off tasks and having him sign off on our time-sheets. He has entrusted us with the honor and responsibility and joy of being his friends.
Have we accepted? Do we hang out in prayer with him as a friend? Do we go out, healing and transforming people with him, sitting with the sinful, challenging oppressors, loving the loveless?
How do we move and talk and sit and listen as friends of the Risen and Anointed One? Figuring that out - that's the work of ministry.
© 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.
There are promotions – and then there are status upgrades. Jesus' followers got one of those his last evening among them. He told them what it means to abide in his love, live by his rules, love one another with the kind of love they received from him. He said, “You are my friends if you do what I command you.”
In a culture in which people attached themselves to a spiritual master whom they served and revered, followed and learned from, this language of friendship might have sounded jarring. So Jesus explained, “I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.”
Being someone’s servant and being their friend are very different. Servanthood can be easier – you have no responsibility to get to know, strategize, plan, or achieve a vision. You need only fulfill the tasks assigned you with all the skill and commitment you can muster, anticipating needs as appropriate. And then collect your paycheck and take your assigned time off. There is a simplicity to contractual, hierarchical relationships.
Friendship, with its mutuality and intimacy, is much messier; covenantal, not contractual, with commitment to nurturing and growing the friendship. Friends are responsible for one another in a way that a supervisor and servant are not. Friends are recipients of each other’s joys and worries and confidences. This is what Jesus highlights; he says he has entrusted his followers with everything he has heard from God the Father. That must have been daunting to hear.
Yet it must also have been exhilarating to be told they were his friends. If we work for someone we respect and admire, it’s a rush to be elevated from employee to friend. There is more freedom and collegiality, along with more responsibility.
Sometimes in the church we can act more like polite admirers, or pack mules struggling up a hill than as independent, respected, friends of the Living God. Is it easier to think we work for Jesus rather than with him? Jesus didn't ask us to work for him. He wants us working with him, filled with his Spirit, not checking off tasks and having him sign off on our time-sheets. He has entrusted us with the honor and responsibility and joy of being his friends.
Have we accepted? Do we hang out in prayer with him as a friend? Do we go out, healing and transforming people with him, sitting with the sinful, challenging oppressors, loving the loveless?
How do we move and talk and sit and listen as friends of the Risen and Anointed One? Figuring that out - that's the work of ministry.
© 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.
4-23-24 - Pruning
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I was given a rose bush six years ago which blooms frequently and has done better than expected, given that I just plunked it in the ground. But I don’t know the first thing about if, how or when to prune it to make it healthier. Pruning is a painful process. No one wants to cut into living things, or beautiful ones, though a gardener or farmer – or surgeon – will do so in order to allow a plant to become as healthy and fruitful as possible.
Jesus said that even God is in the pruning business: “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.”
Jesus talks both about the cutting away of non-fruitful branches, and the cutting back of fruitful ones. Nothing seems to be exempt from the pruning shears.
We prune to conserve resources so that the fruitful parts receive maximum nutrients. The same is true in our lives – and churches. Too many branches dissipate the focus and energy available to each one. Not every part bears good fruit. Some used to, and are now past the point of producing. We must undertake pruning processes, or allow God to work them within us.
Are there aspects to your life or work or relationships that no longer feel fruitful? Patterns of thinking or behaving or relating that are not life-giving? Make a list today of “branches” you might be willing to cut away, leave behind entirely.
As you read through that list, where do you feel the greatest sense of loss or failure? Where the most relief?
Pray through it with Jesus and/or discuss it with a spiritual adviser or friend. Then act on what you've discerned.
What areas of your life, work or relationships feel fruitful? Are there ways you can prune or refine your involvement in them to allow for even more growth?
There’s an old adage that “the unexamined life is not worth living.” I suggest the same is true of an “unpruned life.” It resembles an overgrown garden – hard to move around in, lacking in differentiation and clarity, with healthy growth often impeded by weeds and undergrowth. Undergrowth! There’s a great term. That which is overgrown becomes undergrowth. If we want to see growth in our lives and our spirits, not to mention our ministries, bring on the pruning.
© 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.
I was given a rose bush six years ago which blooms frequently and has done better than expected, given that I just plunked it in the ground. But I don’t know the first thing about if, how or when to prune it to make it healthier. Pruning is a painful process. No one wants to cut into living things, or beautiful ones, though a gardener or farmer – or surgeon – will do so in order to allow a plant to become as healthy and fruitful as possible.
Jesus said that even God is in the pruning business: “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.”
Jesus talks both about the cutting away of non-fruitful branches, and the cutting back of fruitful ones. Nothing seems to be exempt from the pruning shears.
We prune to conserve resources so that the fruitful parts receive maximum nutrients. The same is true in our lives – and churches. Too many branches dissipate the focus and energy available to each one. Not every part bears good fruit. Some used to, and are now past the point of producing. We must undertake pruning processes, or allow God to work them within us.
Are there aspects to your life or work or relationships that no longer feel fruitful? Patterns of thinking or behaving or relating that are not life-giving? Make a list today of “branches” you might be willing to cut away, leave behind entirely.
As you read through that list, where do you feel the greatest sense of loss or failure? Where the most relief?
Pray through it with Jesus and/or discuss it with a spiritual adviser or friend. Then act on what you've discerned.
What areas of your life, work or relationships feel fruitful? Are there ways you can prune or refine your involvement in them to allow for even more growth?
There’s an old adage that “the unexamined life is not worth living.” I suggest the same is true of an “unpruned life.” It resembles an overgrown garden – hard to move around in, lacking in differentiation and clarity, with healthy growth often impeded by weeds and undergrowth. Undergrowth! There’s a great term. That which is overgrown becomes undergrowth. If we want to see growth in our lives and our spirits, not to mention our ministries, bring on the pruning.
© 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.
4-24-24 - Abiding
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“Abide” is not a word we use these days the way it is used in the Bible. Which is a pity – it’s a good word, much richer than its nearest contemporary equivalent, “hang out with.”
A Google search reminded me that we do use the word – in the sense of something we comply with, or barely tolerate (“I will abide by the ruling”; “I can’t abide eggplant.”) But the meaning in this week’s gospel passage is nothing like that. It means to dwell with over time. Abiding suggests resting with deeply, not rushing away. Oh! Maybe that’s why we don’t use it these days – we do so much rushing, so little “resting with deeply,” “ staying quietly with.”
Jesus used the term that our forebears translated as “abide” quite a bit, especially in these farewell remarks captured in John’s Gospel. He uses it as a verb and as an imperative: “Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches.”
This image conveys an even stronger notion of connectedness. To abide as a grape abides in the vine suggests that it both comes from and is connected with the vine, so connected it would take some force to part one from the other. This is not to undermine distinction and independence. It is a connection intended for greater fruitfulness: “Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.”
How do we abide with Jesus and let him abide in us? We hang out with him in prayer and conversation and praise and worship. We recover our awareness of how we are connected to him, despite the efforts of the world and its messages and the pressures of our lives to shake us loose. It is easy to feel disconnected from God except in those times when we consciously return. How would it be to carry that felt connection around with us daily?
That can happen as we live into the second part – letting Jesus abide in us. We are promised that Jesus lives in us through baptism, a connection that is renewed at eucharist, through the Word, through prayer and ministry. So one way we abide with him and he in us is to make more space for him. Don’t toss him in a back room, stopping by to visit only when you’re feeling sad or stressed. Give him a seat at the table, when you’re doing dishes, paying bills, going to sleep. Don’t relegate him to a few moments here and there; make some time to nurture your connection.
Some monastics have practiced a form of constant prayer called “hesychasm,” the prayer of the heart, which trains one to pray with each breath, in and out, so that practitioners pray without ceasing. Whether we adopt that practice, or set alerts on our phones, or set aside times and places to rest deeply with Jesus, he promises us a more fruitful life through that connection. And we can be sure HE is abiding with us, even when we’re rushing off somewhere that feels more important.
© 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.
“Abide” is not a word we use these days the way it is used in the Bible. Which is a pity – it’s a good word, much richer than its nearest contemporary equivalent, “hang out with.”
A Google search reminded me that we do use the word – in the sense of something we comply with, or barely tolerate (“I will abide by the ruling”; “I can’t abide eggplant.”) But the meaning in this week’s gospel passage is nothing like that. It means to dwell with over time. Abiding suggests resting with deeply, not rushing away. Oh! Maybe that’s why we don’t use it these days – we do so much rushing, so little “resting with deeply,” “ staying quietly with.”
Jesus used the term that our forebears translated as “abide” quite a bit, especially in these farewell remarks captured in John’s Gospel. He uses it as a verb and as an imperative: “Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches.”
This image conveys an even stronger notion of connectedness. To abide as a grape abides in the vine suggests that it both comes from and is connected with the vine, so connected it would take some force to part one from the other. This is not to undermine distinction and independence. It is a connection intended for greater fruitfulness: “Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.”
How do we abide with Jesus and let him abide in us? We hang out with him in prayer and conversation and praise and worship. We recover our awareness of how we are connected to him, despite the efforts of the world and its messages and the pressures of our lives to shake us loose. It is easy to feel disconnected from God except in those times when we consciously return. How would it be to carry that felt connection around with us daily?
That can happen as we live into the second part – letting Jesus abide in us. We are promised that Jesus lives in us through baptism, a connection that is renewed at eucharist, through the Word, through prayer and ministry. So one way we abide with him and he in us is to make more space for him. Don’t toss him in a back room, stopping by to visit only when you’re feeling sad or stressed. Give him a seat at the table, when you’re doing dishes, paying bills, going to sleep. Don’t relegate him to a few moments here and there; make some time to nurture your connection.
Some monastics have practiced a form of constant prayer called “hesychasm,” the prayer of the heart, which trains one to pray with each breath, in and out, so that practitioners pray without ceasing. Whether we adopt that practice, or set alerts on our phones, or set aside times and places to rest deeply with Jesus, he promises us a more fruitful life through that connection. And we can be sure HE is abiding with us, even when we’re rushing off somewhere that feels more important.
© 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.
4-22-24 - The Looong Goodbye
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
If John’s Gospel is a reliable historical record (a question over which scholars have spilled much ink…), the Last Supper would have lasted a Long Time. As John tells it, after the drama and rituals of washing feet, breaking bread and sharing wine, Jesus delivers himself of many Last Words. This discourse, filling chapters 14-18 of the Fourth Gospel, is dense, elliptical, sometimes repetitive - and full of nuggets of teaching that theologians would later mine in developing core church doctrines like the Trinity, Incarnation, the Holy Spirit, Heaven.
These words are not a transcript. At best, they are a compilation of memories and themes, filtered through several witnesses some 40-60 years after the events being described, and in conversation with movements and controversies in the early church. Yet I choose to believe Jesus said much of what is set down here, if not in these exact words, sequence, or necessarily on that occasion. At some point Jesus spoke to his followers about vines and branches and abiding in God. And these words still resonate for us: “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.”
Jesus is about to take his leave of these beloved and frustrating disciples. He has said he is going to a place they cannot follow, but know the way to. It’s a good time to talk about pruning and fruitfulness, as he is about to become the branch cut away, despite the manifold fruit he had borne in just three years, the fruit of thousands of lives renewed, loves restored, sins forgiven and infirmity healed.
But Jesus is not referring to himself in this moment. He is the true vine, he says, and God will remove every branch in him that bears no fruit. That means the branches to which Jesus has given life. That means his apostles. And that means us.
This week’s Gospel passage is not long, but it is ripe with metaphor and meaning. Using the image of a vine and its branches, Jesus talks about how we are connected, honed, and nurtured, and how to stay fruitful as servants of God, friends of God. Exploring this passage offers opportunity for spiritual inventory. Today let’s start by thinking about ourselves as branches connected to that True Vine.
How connected do we feel? How fruitful do we feel we are? How much in the way of nutrients is making its way to us?
Jesus needed to be sure his closest followers understood some things before the harrowing ordeals ahead, while he was still with them in flesh. Hence the Long Goodbye. But for us, these words are a Big Hello, for our fruitfulness is ever before us. Let's receive them as such and greet the exploration ahead.
© 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.
If John’s Gospel is a reliable historical record (a question over which scholars have spilled much ink…), the Last Supper would have lasted a Long Time. As John tells it, after the drama and rituals of washing feet, breaking bread and sharing wine, Jesus delivers himself of many Last Words. This discourse, filling chapters 14-18 of the Fourth Gospel, is dense, elliptical, sometimes repetitive - and full of nuggets of teaching that theologians would later mine in developing core church doctrines like the Trinity, Incarnation, the Holy Spirit, Heaven.
These words are not a transcript. At best, they are a compilation of memories and themes, filtered through several witnesses some 40-60 years after the events being described, and in conversation with movements and controversies in the early church. Yet I choose to believe Jesus said much of what is set down here, if not in these exact words, sequence, or necessarily on that occasion. At some point Jesus spoke to his followers about vines and branches and abiding in God. And these words still resonate for us: “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.”
Jesus is about to take his leave of these beloved and frustrating disciples. He has said he is going to a place they cannot follow, but know the way to. It’s a good time to talk about pruning and fruitfulness, as he is about to become the branch cut away, despite the manifold fruit he had borne in just three years, the fruit of thousands of lives renewed, loves restored, sins forgiven and infirmity healed.
But Jesus is not referring to himself in this moment. He is the true vine, he says, and God will remove every branch in him that bears no fruit. That means the branches to which Jesus has given life. That means his apostles. And that means us.
This week’s Gospel passage is not long, but it is ripe with metaphor and meaning. Using the image of a vine and its branches, Jesus talks about how we are connected, honed, and nurtured, and how to stay fruitful as servants of God, friends of God. Exploring this passage offers opportunity for spiritual inventory. Today let’s start by thinking about ourselves as branches connected to that True Vine.
How connected do we feel? How fruitful do we feel we are? How much in the way of nutrients is making its way to us?
Jesus needed to be sure his closest followers understood some things before the harrowing ordeals ahead, while he was still with them in flesh. Hence the Long Goodbye. But for us, these words are a Big Hello, for our fruitfulness is ever before us. Let's receive them as such and greet the exploration ahead.
© 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.
4-19-24 - Freely Offered
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
We are doing the “Being With” course at my churches this Lent and Eastertide. Being With is a 10-week exploration of Christian faith and practice, meeting weekly with a talk and discussion. This past week the topic was the Cross, which gets to the heart of what Jesus’ crucifixion meant and means for us. There are many ways of interpreting this event, depending on which of the four canonical gospels you’re reading and where you sit on the theological spectrum.
There are also no answers to so deep and unsettling a mystery. Did humans operating out of sin and evil kill Jesus? Did God have his own son killed? Was Jesus’ death due to politics, paranoia, personal feuds? Could it have been prevented? Was it simply the inevitable consequence of human choice, or a divine plan?
Perhaps a combination of all of these. Jesus predicted his arrest, death and resurrection often enough that it seems to have been a plan he was enacting. Yet that plan required human beings to make choices that could have gone in other ways. And any notion that Jesus was a passive victim of either human or divine operation is contested by these words attributed to Jesus as he talks about being the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep: “For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father.”
Laying things down, things that we call life, is a constant effort in the life of a Christ-follower. Jesus demonstrated a self-giving love that offered everything, including his life, including separation – if even for a moment – from his Father and the Spirit. Where are we called to sacrifice our comfort or convenience or resources so someone else might have more room to live?
Like many Americans, I am more often in conversations these days about racial reckoning and reconciliation. I’ve heard someone say it’s not enough for those of us born into privilege to say we’re sorry for the historic and current injustice that limits access to the wealth and security we enjoy; we may actually need to get up and out of the chair, to make space for someone who hasn’t had our advantages. That’s a way of laying down of our lives at a high level. There are also smaller scale choices we can make – to lay down our insistence on being right, or knowing better, or having more. What comes to mind for you?
It is our privilege to make a choice to yield our privilege. Like Jesus, we have power to lay down our lives and to take them up again. In fact, when we lay them down, we truly find a richer life to take up. As we lay down those things to which we cling so tightly, we make room for God’s life to expand in us. As we give our life away, we find ourselves living that abundant life Jesus promised.
© 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.
We are doing the “Being With” course at my churches this Lent and Eastertide. Being With is a 10-week exploration of Christian faith and practice, meeting weekly with a talk and discussion. This past week the topic was the Cross, which gets to the heart of what Jesus’ crucifixion meant and means for us. There are many ways of interpreting this event, depending on which of the four canonical gospels you’re reading and where you sit on the theological spectrum.
There are also no answers to so deep and unsettling a mystery. Did humans operating out of sin and evil kill Jesus? Did God have his own son killed? Was Jesus’ death due to politics, paranoia, personal feuds? Could it have been prevented? Was it simply the inevitable consequence of human choice, or a divine plan?
Perhaps a combination of all of these. Jesus predicted his arrest, death and resurrection often enough that it seems to have been a plan he was enacting. Yet that plan required human beings to make choices that could have gone in other ways. And any notion that Jesus was a passive victim of either human or divine operation is contested by these words attributed to Jesus as he talks about being the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep: “For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father.”
Laying things down, things that we call life, is a constant effort in the life of a Christ-follower. Jesus demonstrated a self-giving love that offered everything, including his life, including separation – if even for a moment – from his Father and the Spirit. Where are we called to sacrifice our comfort or convenience or resources so someone else might have more room to live?
Like many Americans, I am more often in conversations these days about racial reckoning and reconciliation. I’ve heard someone say it’s not enough for those of us born into privilege to say we’re sorry for the historic and current injustice that limits access to the wealth and security we enjoy; we may actually need to get up and out of the chair, to make space for someone who hasn’t had our advantages. That’s a way of laying down of our lives at a high level. There are also smaller scale choices we can make – to lay down our insistence on being right, or knowing better, or having more. What comes to mind for you?
It is our privilege to make a choice to yield our privilege. Like Jesus, we have power to lay down our lives and to take them up again. In fact, when we lay them down, we truly find a richer life to take up. As we lay down those things to which we cling so tightly, we make room for God’s life to expand in us. As we give our life away, we find ourselves living that abundant life Jesus promised.
© 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.
4-18-24 - Other Sheep
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Many sayings of Jesus have inspired Christian evangelism through the ages – the Great Commission, for one, or references in parables to an eternity in hellfire for those who do not accept God's invitation of salvation. One of the sweeter imperatives to sharing the Good News comes in his somewhat cryptic remark about “other sheep”: I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.
In its early years, the nascent church struggled with issues of inclusion and identity. For whom was Jesus’ message intended? How far were they to stretch the boundaries of belonging? Jesus’ original followers were Jews, and a few times he names the “lost sheep of the house of Israel” as the focus of his mission. Yet the gospels record several occasions when he ministered to Gentiles – non-Jews, Romans and Greeks, Samaritans and even a Syro-Phoenician family. And after his resurrection and ascension, the apostles found themselves confronted with Gentile converts to the Jesus movement, and clear guidance from the Holy Spirit that Jesus’ message and ministry were for all people, for all time. (Read the book of Acts!)
This line about “other sheep that do not belong to this fold” seems to support that view, though Jesus might also have meant people outside the norms of acceptability, those lepers and harlots and bruised and blemished folk that seemed so drawn to him. Whatever groups he was referring to, at the very least he implies that there are insiders and outsiders – and that those outside need to be invited in.
One of the most dangerous descriptors for church communities is, ironically, “family.” A congregation that refers to itself as “just one happy family” is often less likely to grow. Why? Because the group identity is so strong it presents a barrier to those who might want to join. Visitors may be greeted warmly and offered hospitality, but are treated as just that, visitors, not part of the family.
As followers of Christ we are to be always thinking of the sheep that are not in the fold, whom Jesus might want us to invite in. And where will we be most apt to encounter these sheep? Out in the pastures, not in the sheepfold. The more we get ourselves out of our folds into the pastures, the better positioned we will be to come into relationship with others, relationships in which we can naturally talk about our spiritual selves and invite them to share theirs.
What is a "pasture" you might hang out in, getting to know other sheep? How might you introduce them to our Shepherd, until they can come to know his voice for themselves? Then the next time we come back to the sheepfold – which we need to do, regularly, for rest and refreshment – some of those other sheep just might follow us Home.
© 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.
Many sayings of Jesus have inspired Christian evangelism through the ages – the Great Commission, for one, or references in parables to an eternity in hellfire for those who do not accept God's invitation of salvation. One of the sweeter imperatives to sharing the Good News comes in his somewhat cryptic remark about “other sheep”: I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.
In its early years, the nascent church struggled with issues of inclusion and identity. For whom was Jesus’ message intended? How far were they to stretch the boundaries of belonging? Jesus’ original followers were Jews, and a few times he names the “lost sheep of the house of Israel” as the focus of his mission. Yet the gospels record several occasions when he ministered to Gentiles – non-Jews, Romans and Greeks, Samaritans and even a Syro-Phoenician family. And after his resurrection and ascension, the apostles found themselves confronted with Gentile converts to the Jesus movement, and clear guidance from the Holy Spirit that Jesus’ message and ministry were for all people, for all time. (Read the book of Acts!)
This line about “other sheep that do not belong to this fold” seems to support that view, though Jesus might also have meant people outside the norms of acceptability, those lepers and harlots and bruised and blemished folk that seemed so drawn to him. Whatever groups he was referring to, at the very least he implies that there are insiders and outsiders – and that those outside need to be invited in.
One of the most dangerous descriptors for church communities is, ironically, “family.” A congregation that refers to itself as “just one happy family” is often less likely to grow. Why? Because the group identity is so strong it presents a barrier to those who might want to join. Visitors may be greeted warmly and offered hospitality, but are treated as just that, visitors, not part of the family.
As followers of Christ we are to be always thinking of the sheep that are not in the fold, whom Jesus might want us to invite in. And where will we be most apt to encounter these sheep? Out in the pastures, not in the sheepfold. The more we get ourselves out of our folds into the pastures, the better positioned we will be to come into relationship with others, relationships in which we can naturally talk about our spiritual selves and invite them to share theirs.
What is a "pasture" you might hang out in, getting to know other sheep? How might you introduce them to our Shepherd, until they can come to know his voice for themselves? Then the next time we come back to the sheepfold – which we need to do, regularly, for rest and refreshment – some of those other sheep just might follow us Home.
© 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.
4-17-24 - To Be Known
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
In his conversation about shepherding, Jesus highlights an important quality of a “Good Shepherd” – she knows her sheep. In contrast to a hired hand, who might only know the number of sheep he’s to keep track of, the good shepherd knows the sheep individually, knows what each looks like, its characteristics, which ones follow well, which ones are inclined to wander, which ones are more vulnerable.
Jesus doesn’t discuss this quality in the abstract; he makes it personal: "I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father."
Being known – it is perhaps the richest, most intimate experience a person can have. (Is that why ancient Hebrew texts use the verb “know” to suggest sexual encounters?) To be known means we have been seen, and studied; been deemed worthy of time and attention. The one who knows us has weighed our strengths and shortcomings. Being known does not imply being loved, but one often follows the other (and not always in the same order).
That we are known individually by the God who made us, who doesn’t just lump us all together as “humankind” but treasures the particularity and specificity of each one of us, is a radical reality. Yes, God cares about communities, and yes, an over-emphasis on “just me and my Jesus” can imperil the integrity of our spiritual life. Yet the personal, relational dimension to Christian faith is undeniably present in the bible, and life-changing when we acknowledge it.
As intimately as the Father and the Son and the Spirit know each other – they who are distinct, yet One – that’s how closely Jesus knows us, our dreams and longings, our disappointments and losses, our passions and foibles, those shadow parts of ourselves we loathe, as well as what we treasure. Jesus knows us better than we know ourselves, and loves us without reservation or condition.
The question is: Will we let him in? Will we open ourselves to this one who already knows us? Will we take the time to get to know this Good Shepherd?
“I know my own and my own know me” begs an interesting question: Maybe it’s not whether or not Jesus is the Good Shepherd, but whether we consider ourselves his sheep.
The choice is always ours – his offer of relationship is always extended. Maybe we should come to know him as he already knows us.
© 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.
In his conversation about shepherding, Jesus highlights an important quality of a “Good Shepherd” – she knows her sheep. In contrast to a hired hand, who might only know the number of sheep he’s to keep track of, the good shepherd knows the sheep individually, knows what each looks like, its characteristics, which ones follow well, which ones are inclined to wander, which ones are more vulnerable.
Jesus doesn’t discuss this quality in the abstract; he makes it personal: "I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father."
Being known – it is perhaps the richest, most intimate experience a person can have. (Is that why ancient Hebrew texts use the verb “know” to suggest sexual encounters?) To be known means we have been seen, and studied; been deemed worthy of time and attention. The one who knows us has weighed our strengths and shortcomings. Being known does not imply being loved, but one often follows the other (and not always in the same order).
That we are known individually by the God who made us, who doesn’t just lump us all together as “humankind” but treasures the particularity and specificity of each one of us, is a radical reality. Yes, God cares about communities, and yes, an over-emphasis on “just me and my Jesus” can imperil the integrity of our spiritual life. Yet the personal, relational dimension to Christian faith is undeniably present in the bible, and life-changing when we acknowledge it.
As intimately as the Father and the Son and the Spirit know each other – they who are distinct, yet One – that’s how closely Jesus knows us, our dreams and longings, our disappointments and losses, our passions and foibles, those shadow parts of ourselves we loathe, as well as what we treasure. Jesus knows us better than we know ourselves, and loves us without reservation or condition.
The question is: Will we let him in? Will we open ourselves to this one who already knows us? Will we take the time to get to know this Good Shepherd?
“I know my own and my own know me” begs an interesting question: Maybe it’s not whether or not Jesus is the Good Shepherd, but whether we consider ourselves his sheep.
The choice is always ours – his offer of relationship is always extended. Maybe we should come to know him as he already knows us.
© 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.
4-16-24 - Hired Hands
You can listen to this reflection here.
In this week’s gospel reading, Jesus calls himself the good shepherd – and he makes a distinction between a shepherd and a hired hand: The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep.
Given the increasingly hostile encounters recorded in John’s Gospel between Jesus and the temple leadership, perhaps Jesus is likening the religious leaders of the Jewish community of his day to mere “hired hands,” not reliable guardians of the people for whom they are to care. They seem too preoccupied with their rules and their compensation. They fall away at the hint of danger (is he referring to their careful dance of collaboration with the Roman occupiers?), and fail to provide the spiritual nurture and care they should.
Jesus seems to say that only one who owns the sheep can appreciate their value enough to tend them properly. This is unsettling for me as a religious “professional” – after all, I am a “hired hand.” I think it’s important that clergy not feel ownership over their congregants, but rather see themselves as stewards on behalf of the God to whom all things belong, to tend, feed and nurture spiritual growth. Does the fact that I am financially compensated mitigate my shepherding?
Jesus might have gone further in his definitions, to distinguish between good hired hands and bad ones. A hired hand who is deeply committed to the Shepherd, whose values align with the one who owns the sheep, may be as fierce in protecting them from harm, and as dedicated to keeping the flock together and thriving, as the Shepherd himself. Such a hired hand must remain in close touch with the Shepherd on whose behalf she tends the sheep, to receive instructions about where to pasture, where to find the strays, when to lead the flock into the fold.
I strive to be such a hired hand. I hope congregations can hold their pastors to high standards of integrity and spiritual depth. If ever you wonder why we pray for clergy in Sunday services, this is one reason – so they can balance being in tune with the Shepherd with staying attuned to the wellbeing of the sheep. If your pastor is falling short, tell her. If he is nurturing the flock well, tell him.
And pay attention to what flocks you may be called to tend as a hand working for the Good Shepherd himself. He needs a lot of good hired hands, and they don't all have to be ordained.
© 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.
In this week’s gospel reading, Jesus calls himself the good shepherd – and he makes a distinction between a shepherd and a hired hand: The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep.
Given the increasingly hostile encounters recorded in John’s Gospel between Jesus and the temple leadership, perhaps Jesus is likening the religious leaders of the Jewish community of his day to mere “hired hands,” not reliable guardians of the people for whom they are to care. They seem too preoccupied with their rules and their compensation. They fall away at the hint of danger (is he referring to their careful dance of collaboration with the Roman occupiers?), and fail to provide the spiritual nurture and care they should.
Jesus seems to say that only one who owns the sheep can appreciate their value enough to tend them properly. This is unsettling for me as a religious “professional” – after all, I am a “hired hand.” I think it’s important that clergy not feel ownership over their congregants, but rather see themselves as stewards on behalf of the God to whom all things belong, to tend, feed and nurture spiritual growth. Does the fact that I am financially compensated mitigate my shepherding?
Jesus might have gone further in his definitions, to distinguish between good hired hands and bad ones. A hired hand who is deeply committed to the Shepherd, whose values align with the one who owns the sheep, may be as fierce in protecting them from harm, and as dedicated to keeping the flock together and thriving, as the Shepherd himself. Such a hired hand must remain in close touch with the Shepherd on whose behalf she tends the sheep, to receive instructions about where to pasture, where to find the strays, when to lead the flock into the fold.
I strive to be such a hired hand. I hope congregations can hold their pastors to high standards of integrity and spiritual depth. If ever you wonder why we pray for clergy in Sunday services, this is one reason – so they can balance being in tune with the Shepherd with staying attuned to the wellbeing of the sheep. If your pastor is falling short, tell her. If he is nurturing the flock well, tell him.
And pay attention to what flocks you may be called to tend as a hand working for the Good Shepherd himself. He needs a lot of good hired hands, and they don't all have to be ordained.
© 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.
4-15-24 - The Good Shepherd
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Every year on the fourth Sunday of Easter our lectionary delivers up a section of Jesus’ “Good Shepherd” discourse from the Gospel of John. This set of teachings is sandwiched between Jesus’ healing of a man blind from birth (John 9), which sharpened the ire of the religious authorities with whom he’d already been tussling, and his raising of Lazarus (John 11), which caused those leaders to seek his execution. So this Good Shepherd passage is far from cuddly or comforting – it crackles with the growing danger in which Jesus finds himself, speaking of death and sacrifice, of negligent shepherds and thieves.
Before we look at all that, though, let’s note how subversive it was for Jesus to compare himself to a shepherd in the first place. The impact of this image may be lost on us, as we tend to think of shepherds as earthy, pan-pipe playing rustics tending the land and their cute little flocks. In Jesus’ time, though, shepherds were considered crude and base ruffians, unkempt, unwashed, often dishonest and generally suspect. That’s why our Christmas story of angels appearing to shepherds in their fields is so astonishing – how could such low-lifes would be the first to hear of Christ’s birth?
Yet, as we know, Jesus made a practice of consorting with people considered by “respectable” folk to be the dregs of society. He was often in trouble for dining with tax collectors and prostitutes, honoring lepers and the ritually impure with his company and healing. Here he claims a demeaned profession as his own. To say “I am the good shepherd” is to assert that there can be such a thing as a good shepherd. In explaining what distinguishes a good shepherd from a bad one, he manages once more to skewer the ruling elite.
There is yet a deeper level of affront to those leaders in this statement: Jesus’ use of “I am” in making this claim. This could not but echo for his hearers the name God gives when Moses demands his name: “I am that I am,” a statement of pure being. Each of the “I am” sayings recorded in John’s Gospel begins in Greek with “Ego eimi…” However, the “I” (“ego”) is implied in the word “eimi,” or “am.” Putting “ego” before it is redundant, rendering it “I I am” – thus amplifying the “I am” so that the comparison to God’s name is inescapable.
In these few words, Jesus manages to offend the powerful on several levels, and to signal to those on the margins of society the Good News of what God is up to. When he says, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep,” he redeems the role of shepherd and claims it for himself. And he frames in advance his suffering and death as a redemptive sacrifice, alerting his hearers that this Good Shepherd will be called upon to lay down his life for the sheep he loves.
This Shepherd of ours is a fierce and vigilant warrior – and he is still on watch over us, leading us out, to good pasture, and in, to the safety of the fold; guarding us from forces of evil that would prey on us or try to lead us astray. We still have the freedom to wander, but as we choose to stay near, what joy and power will be ours.
© 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.
Every year on the fourth Sunday of Easter our lectionary delivers up a section of Jesus’ “Good Shepherd” discourse from the Gospel of John. This set of teachings is sandwiched between Jesus’ healing of a man blind from birth (John 9), which sharpened the ire of the religious authorities with whom he’d already been tussling, and his raising of Lazarus (John 11), which caused those leaders to seek his execution. So this Good Shepherd passage is far from cuddly or comforting – it crackles with the growing danger in which Jesus finds himself, speaking of death and sacrifice, of negligent shepherds and thieves.
Before we look at all that, though, let’s note how subversive it was for Jesus to compare himself to a shepherd in the first place. The impact of this image may be lost on us, as we tend to think of shepherds as earthy, pan-pipe playing rustics tending the land and their cute little flocks. In Jesus’ time, though, shepherds were considered crude and base ruffians, unkempt, unwashed, often dishonest and generally suspect. That’s why our Christmas story of angels appearing to shepherds in their fields is so astonishing – how could such low-lifes would be the first to hear of Christ’s birth?
Yet, as we know, Jesus made a practice of consorting with people considered by “respectable” folk to be the dregs of society. He was often in trouble for dining with tax collectors and prostitutes, honoring lepers and the ritually impure with his company and healing. Here he claims a demeaned profession as his own. To say “I am the good shepherd” is to assert that there can be such a thing as a good shepherd. In explaining what distinguishes a good shepherd from a bad one, he manages once more to skewer the ruling elite.
There is yet a deeper level of affront to those leaders in this statement: Jesus’ use of “I am” in making this claim. This could not but echo for his hearers the name God gives when Moses demands his name: “I am that I am,” a statement of pure being. Each of the “I am” sayings recorded in John’s Gospel begins in Greek with “Ego eimi…” However, the “I” (“ego”) is implied in the word “eimi,” or “am.” Putting “ego” before it is redundant, rendering it “I I am” – thus amplifying the “I am” so that the comparison to God’s name is inescapable.
In these few words, Jesus manages to offend the powerful on several levels, and to signal to those on the margins of society the Good News of what God is up to. When he says, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep,” he redeems the role of shepherd and claims it for himself. And he frames in advance his suffering and death as a redemptive sacrifice, alerting his hearers that this Good Shepherd will be called upon to lay down his life for the sheep he loves.
This Shepherd of ours is a fierce and vigilant warrior – and he is still on watch over us, leading us out, to good pasture, and in, to the safety of the fold; guarding us from forces of evil that would prey on us or try to lead us astray. We still have the freedom to wander, but as we choose to stay near, what joy and power will be ours.
© 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.
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