4-4-26 - Holy Saturday: The Other Mary

You can listen to this reflection here. Today's gospel reading is here. 

Each day this week we have heard from one of the main characters in the gospel reading appointed for the day, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage your own imagination as you walk this story with Jesus.

The Other Mary: That’s what I’m called in these accounts of Jesus’ death – “The Other Mary.” Like these gospel writers couldn’t bother to get my full name or where I’m from. I’m not Mary, Jesus’ mother; nor Mary of Bethany nor Mary of Magdala. I am Mary, mother of James. And I was there.

I watched them murder him. I watched his mother’s agony, watching him suffocating in agony. I heard the scoffers and the mockers. I saw them take his body down. I helped wrap him in a clean cloth and went along to the tomb that Joseph so generously offered for our use. There was no time to prepare his body – the sabbath was about to begin, and this is the Passover sabbath. We had to put his body somewhere safe until this sabbath is over. We will be there at dawn on Sunday with our spices and ointments to anoint him for a proper burial.

But now we must wait. Doing nothing. This is the worst sabbath I have ever endured. I love my sabbaths – the God-commanded day of rest when I can put down my cooking and cleaning and mending and tending. My only chores are feeding my family and our animals; the rest of the time I can nap, or read, or walk slowly enough to notice the new growth on the fields and trees, appreciate the birds and creatures around me. God’s greatest gift, this sabbath day each week.

But not this day, not this week. To bear this weight of pain and loss, with no tasks to distract us? To have nothing to do BUT think and talk and remember how our Lord we loved so much, who gave us so much, was tortured to death for no reason but to protect the pride and arrogance of insecure men? To have nothing to hold back the waves of feelings that threaten to drown us – terror, rage, confusion, and sorrow, sorrow so deep I don’t think we’ll ever get to the end of it. What have they done? How will we live?

So I will sit, and feel what I don’t want to feel. I will rest, like God rested on the seventh day. Was he gathering up his energy to create even more new life?

What would new life even look like, now?

Will you spend this day in Sabbath time – resting, walking, praying, not doing anything productive? That is one of the best ways to honor Jesus and prepare to celebrate the joy of Easter Day…

You are welcome to join our Great Vigil of Easter service online tonight at 8 pm; find the link here.

© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Holy Saturday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

4-2-26 - Maundy Thursday: Andrew of Capernaum

You can listen to this reflection here. Today's gospel reading is here.
This Holy Week, Water Daily looks at the readings appointed for each day and reflect from the perspective of one the people on the fringes of the story. As we hover at the fringes of this story we are invited to come into its heart this week. May these holy men and women draw us closer.

Andrew of Capernaum: My brother! Jesus sure nailed it with the nickname he gave him, Petros. The rock. Never met anyone so hard-headed. And lovable, ornery, faithful, cowardly – all rolled into one ball of leap-before-you-look, speak-before-you-think energy. He’s been like that since we were kids – got me into trouble more times than I care to remember, and usually all I was doing was watching.

So tonight, when Jesus got up from the table, tied on that towel and began to wash our feet, and we’re all looking at each other, mortified – it’s Peter who said out loud what a lot of us were thinking. “Lord, you’re gonna wash my feet? Think again!” Jesus just looked at him with that mix of irritation and love he so often had for Peter, and said, “If you don’t let me wash you, you have no part with me.” But Peter doesn’t let it rest – he has to argue. With our Master! On this night of all nights! “Okay, wash all of me, then! Why stop with my feet?”

Jesus had an answer for him, of course. He always did. It was part of their game – Peter pushing as hard as he could, Jesus coming right back at him. Oh, how they loved each other. Love each other.

It was hard for Peter to submit to being cared for. Hard for all of us. When Jesus got to me, I didn’t want him to touch my feet. They’re not pretty. They were filthy, as feet were in our time. But he focused on that task like it was the only thing in the world he had to do. He got them clean, he rinsed and dried them, and I just had to sit there and receive that gift.

I think that was the hardest of all the things Jesus has asked us to do in the three years since I met him along the banks of the Jordan. Just sit and receive his gift. Powerless.

Little did I know that that’s all I would be doing for the next 24 hours – watching him give his life away for me, powerless to help him, nothing left for me but to receive his gift. And if I have trouble being this still and helpless, what on earth must my poor brother be going through?

How are you at receiving care from others?
How are you at receiving the gifts God wants to give to you?
It’s harder for most people to submit to having someone else wash their feet than it is to wash another’s (unless we’re paying for a pedicure…). Yet arguably our most important spiritual task is learning to take in the love and grace and power of God so we can share it freely with others.

Tonight, I hope you’re going to church, I hope you’ll have a chance to receive the ministry of footwashing, and to offer it. In that order - receive then give. Don’t miss this opportunity to grow in grace, to feel the holy water on your soles.

© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Maundy Thursday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

4-1-26 - Holy Wednesday : The Other Judas

You can listen to this reflection here. Today's gospel reading is here.

This Holy Week, Water Daily looks at the readings appointed for each day and reflect from the perspective of one the people on the fringes of the story. We who are also on the fringes of this story are invited to come into its heart this week. May these holy men and women draw us closer.

Judas, son of James: Why is this night SO different from any other night! The tension at the Seder table was thick enough to cut. Even after the weirdness of the footwashing, it was clear the troubles were getting to him. Jesus can bear pressure better than most, but nobody can take weeks of death threats and rumors and not be affected. Nothing he said this evening made sense, not the washing, not the words about the bread and the wine – his body, his blood? What was he talking about?

And then he said one of us would betray him. One of us? We love him! We’ve left everything to follow him. Why would one of us hand him over to the authorities? We all looked at each other, at Jesus. Then Peter signaled John to ask him who. Jesus wouldn’t give a name – he just said, “It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish.” I am so glad he didn’t say the name – because it was Judas! He handed the bread to Judas, the Iscariot. The other Judas. Or is it me who is the other Judas?

Jesus had two disciples named Judas. You know a lot about the Iscariot. Me, you only know by name, in a list of those called by Jesus to be among his twelve closest followers. I don’t even make every list – only Luke’s gospel includes me.

But I was there, day in, day out, traveling with him, helping to heal the sick, proclaim the Good News to those who would listen. I was with him in the rain, in the mud, in the sunshine, at the dinner tables. We never knew what was going to happen next. Only that he could transform the worst circumstances into something with life and hope.

The other Judas was with us through it all too, totally committed. What could have happened? I saw how upset he was a few nights ago at dinner, when Mary poured all this expensive ointment on Jesus’ feet. He looked like a walking thunder cloud. Would that be enough to cause him to sell Jesus out?

Jesus said to him, “Do quickly what you are going to do,” and Judas left the room. Left our company. We thought maybe he'd gone to pick up some supplies before the Sabbath began tomorrow…

I still believe Jesus can transform the worst circumstances into something with life and hope. But even this?

You’ve probably been at some tense family meals in your life… you may even have known betrayal. How does it help our faith to know Jesus experienced those things?

Can we spare some sympathy for Judas Iscariot? Can we forgive those who have betrayed us?
Now’s a good time to start… we can begin by asking God to give us the grace to see that person as God sees them, with compassion. And then allow God’s grace to take hold of us, gradually or all at once. New life...

© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Holy Wednesday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

3-31-26 - Holy Tuesday: Philip of Bethsaida

You can listen to this reflection here. Today's gospel reading is here.
This Holy Week, Water Daily will look at the readings appointed for each day and reflect from the perspective of one the people on the fringes of the story. We too are on the fringes of this story – and we are invited to come into its heart this week. May these holy men and women draw us closer.

Philip of Bethsaida: People always wanted to see Jesus; what was so different about these Greeks, that their request should cause him such sadness?

I wasn’t even sure I should bother him when they approached me. I mean, a LOT of people wanted to see Jesus – not all of them friendly – and he seemed tense and tired. So I checked in with Andrew, who's closer to the inner circle than I am. Together we went to Jesus. And his response surprised me. “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified." I didn't know what that meant but then he looked at us with this resigned expression on his face, and added, “I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”

I couldn't pretend not to know what he was talking about – the rumors of plots against him have been flying for weeks now. It got a lot worse after the Lazarus thing. The leaders at the Temple are not happy with Jesus’ popularity, or his miracles. And now even Greeks here for Passover want to see him? This attention is not good.

Or is it “good” in a much bigger way? Jesus keeps hinting at a mission broader than we can imagine, that God is up to something huge. Could something good be accomplished by the death of one as amazing as Jesus? Whom I believe to be the Anointed One, the Messiah himself? What kind of fruit might he bear if he dies, like a grain of wheat?

Is he talking about us too? Are we all called to be grains of wheat, broken open so the life of God can break out?

“Whoever serves me must follow me,” he said. “And where I am, there will my servant be also.” Well, I am his servant. I can think of no greater purpose for my life than to serve Jesus. I will stay as close to him this week as I can, and hope against hope he’s just speaking in metaphors…

How about us? Are we willing to stay close to Jesus this week?
What do we find most unsettling about the whole story of Holy Week?
Is there a part you routinely want to avoid?
Why do you suppose that is?

I pray that we might walk closely with Jesus this week, allowing him to be real in our lives – not the suffering crucified one, but the risen Lord of heaven and earth, bearing abundant fruit through us.

© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Holy Tuesday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

3-30-26 - Monday in Holy Week: Lazarus of Bethany

You can listen to this reflection here. Today's gospel reading is here.

This Holy Week, Water Daily will look at the readings appointed for each day and reflect from the perspective of one the people on the fringes of the story. We too are on the fringes of this story – and we are invited to come into its heart this week. May these holy men and women draw us closer.

Lazarus of Bethany: So, they want to kill me – I, who have already tasted death. More than tasted – spent four days in that place where there is there is no life, no light. Came back to myself in a cold, dark, rancid place; came back to myself at the sound of his voice calling me. Stumbled toward the light beyond the rock they’d just moved to let me out, not sure where I was, or who.

If I hadn’t seen the power and love in this man who became my friend, I might say Jesus was the worst thing that could have happened to my family. His visits caused my sisters to squabble, his friendship drew unwanted attention. But I can say with my whole heart that Jesus was the best thing. He drew out the gentleness in Martha, who so often uses her intelligence and competence to control events and other people. And I’ve seen our sister Mary show a new boldness and courage since coming to know Jesus.

Like tonight, at dinner at our house – she took a whole jar of nard that must have cost her the earth, and anointed Jesus’ feet with it. Just got on her knees and anointed him and then wiped his feet with her hair. It was outrageous, and extraordinary. Didn’t make his disciples happy – don’t know if it was the extravagance or the intimacy that bothered them most. But Jesus defended her, talking about her having “bought it for the day of my burial.” He knew the end of this life was coming soon; did he know how ghastly that end would be? Did he fear it? The suffering? The dying? Did he know what would come next – really know? Or did he have to walk by faith, like all of us?

And now, because so many have come to believe in Jesus because he raised me, they want to kill me. The symbol. The forerunner. You know what? They don’t scare me. Death no longer scares me. Like my sisters, I believe Jesus is who he says he is, the Anointed of God, the Messiah we’ve been awaiting.

And I know that the next time I leave this life, it won’t be to the place of complete darkness. For he will be with me, the Light of the World will illumine even that darkness and make it holy.
I just wish he didn’t have to pass through the darkness himself…

What in Lazarus’ story – or Mary’s, or Martha’s – brings up a story in you?
A story of new life returning from dead places?
A story of extravagant sacrifice to honor Jesus or your faith?
A story of hospitality and service?
What do you want to offer Jesus today?

© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Holy Monday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

3-27-26 - Hosanna!

You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.

The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

It often amazes us how quickly the throng who lauded Jesus on his entry into Jerusalem could a few days later call with equal ardor for his crucifixion. Yet is it so surprising? Anyone who’s ever been a teenager knows how quickly strong and seemingly incompatible emotions can pass through us in swift succession. “I love so-and-so!” “I can’t stand so-and-so!” “I’ll die if you don’t let me go to that concert!” “I’m never leaving my room!”

Okay, but weren't those are supposed to be adults in that crowd? Well, any rational behavior we might expect from a group of adults can be neutralized by the Crowd Effect – which can quickly become Mob Rule. Something happens to human beings in crowds; normal inhibitions and rational thinking can be overcome by fervent emotion, which can quickly grow destructive. It happens at sporting events, excitement about a team turning into a murderous rampage.

And when you add a threat to people’s security, it’s not difficult to see how this crowd turned on Jesus. The temple authorities not-so-subtly suggested that Jesus’ continued activity and renown would awaken the wrath of the Romans, and all their Jewish subjects would suffer. “…It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish,” said the high priest Caiaphas. Anyone who had witnessed Roman brutality would do much to avoid a repeat occurrence.

In a way, “crucify him!” is easier to understand than the “Hosannas!” when Jesus entered Jerusalem. The chant of the crowd explicitly acknowledges Jesus’ Messiahship as the Son of David. People put their own cloaks on the road, presumably so the feet of the donkeys’ bearing the holy cargo wouldn't have to touch bare ground. Those who shouted “Hosanna!” were expressing trust in Jesus. When they saw him a few days later, in custody, beaten, seemingly powerless, perhaps their sense of trust felt betrayed, which fueled their rage.

Christians the world over will participate in the re-telling of this story on Palm Sunday, asked to join the crowd in both the hosannas and the calls for execution. I suspect many have trouble relating to both cries. We’re too familiar with the Jesus story to feel the excitement of recognizing the Messiah, and perhaps too removed from oppression to feel a strong need for a savior. To call for his death is bewildering. Where do you locate yourself among those positions?

Consider praying your way through the whole story before Sunday (Matthew 26:14- 27:66), being attentive to where you respond, who you relate to as it unfolds. Can you find in yourself that impulse to praise Jesus for who he is to you? If you feel he’s a stranger, if you’re one of the curious in the crowd, you might ask him to show you who he is.

“Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” they shouted, something many of us sing every week in the eucharist. If you feel Jesus has blessed you, tell him. See what that opens up.

© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Palm Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

4-18-25 - Mary of Nazareth

You can listen to this reflection here. Each day this Holy Week we will use the gospel appointed for the day, and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage our imaginations as we walk this story with Jesus. Today we look at John 19:25-37, sitting with those who watched Jesus be crucified and die an agonizing death. We hear from:

Mary of Nazareth: They keep offering to take me away, my sister, the two Marys. They keep trying to take me home, to get me away from here, from watching him… But I can’t go. I guess I must feel some need to finish this. He said a moment ago… “It is finished.” Or, that’s what they said he said. I couldn’t hear him. His voice was so faint…

But still I can’t leave. Not yet. It wasn’t like I was ever allowed to forget that there would be an end like this. I just never knew how or when it would be. He was always a gift with strings attached. From the beginning, what that angel, or whatever he was, said to me, “He will be great, and will be called the son of the Most High… his kingdom will never end.” And the whole way he… just suddenly… was there, in me… And his birth, those crazed shepherds running, finding us, telling of choirs of angels on the hills…

I always knew he was no ordinary child; I always knew he was never mine to keep. But this – this was not a day I ever imagined, to see my own first son, flesh of my flesh, there…naked, pinned… suffocating… In agony. And yet I can’t leave.

A little while before he spoke again. Oh God, he barely had the strength to lift his voice. He was looking at me, he wanted me. And there was nothing I could do for him! They took me by the arm, Joanna and Mary, they led me closer. I felt I could have touched him – could have reached out and touched his feet, those feet that were once so small they fit into my hand, those toes I used to tickle, and he would laugh and laugh like an angel… And there they were, and a spike… Oh God, what have you done?

He looked at John, his faithful friend. He looked at me.
“Dear woman, behold your son,” he said. “No, you are my son!” I wanted to cry out. “Take him down!”

Then he said to John, “Here is your mother.” I thought my heart would stop, it hurt so much. To be given away, even for my own care… like the time he wouldn’t see us, his brothers and me. He said those who followed him, his disciples, those were his mothers and his brothers now. And I tried to understand… he was never mine to keep. But what was it all for? The crowds, the miracles, the healings? All those amazing stories that he told, about forgiveness and the Kingdom of God? Where is all that now?

That’s what I want to know. Maybe that’s why I can’t look away – I’ve been waiting to see what he does now! God, where are you now? Your moment to intervene just passed, it seems. Are you going to finish what you started?

This is the question of Good Friday – are you there, God? Where is your power, your presence, your peace? Are your promises any good? And as much as we want the resolution, to see the story turn out the way we know it will – this is an important space in which to rest, these three days before the promise is revealed. Sit with your questions, and doubts, and faith, and love. Share them with Jesus. He knows…

You are welcome to join me tonight at 7:30 pm EDT for an online service of the Liturgy for Good Friday - link is here.

© 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.

4-17-25 - Simon Peter of Capernaum

You can listen to this reflection here. Each day this Holy Week we will use the gospel appointed for the day, and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage our imaginations as we walk this story with Jesus. Today we reflect on John 13:1-17 and Matthew 26:69-75, the story of Jesus’ washing his disciples’ feet during a Passover meal and its effect on a disciple. We hear from:

Simon Peter of Capernaum: I know what you’re thinking – a tough guy like me? Crying like a baby? I couldn’t help it. After what I did… after what I didn’t do? He told me, you know? He said one of us was going to betray him and we were all going to deny we knew him, and I said, “Oh, no, Lord, I’ll never deny you! Even if I have to die with you!”

But he told me, he already knew, that before the cock crowed twice this morning, I would. He was right. I was worthless to him! I couldn’t even stand it for an hour. I couldn’t even stay awake with him last night, I couldn’t defend him…

But he didn’t want us to fight. He said it had to happen this way. This, from a guy who has power like you’ve never seen. But this man, last night, got down on his knees and washed our feet. Like a servant. Like a slave. He knelt down in front of me with this basin and started to wash my feet. I pulled them back! The idea of him, touching my feet! My feet… my feet are filthy. They smell like cheese you left lying around your kitchen for too many weeks. They’re caked in mud and dirt and God knows what. They’ve got sores…

But he said, “If I do not wash you, you have no part with me.” Okay, then, I said, don’t stop with my feet. Wash my hands and my head too! But he just said, no, I was clean. Then he washed my feet like they were babies, like they were precious. He washed my feet like he loved them, and me along with them.

Everything he’d ever said made sense right then, because he loved me so much. I don’t understand it. I’m not lovable. I’m loud, crude, ornery. I’m always charging in without thinking… but he loves me. There’s nothing I’ve done to make it so. I betrayed him tonight, as much as Judas. I ran like a coward. I lied about him, three times.

But just now, they brought him out and as he passed, he looked at me. He knew what I had done, but he looked at me with those eyes that see everything, and he still loved me. No matter what I do. It’s an amazing thing. And I’ll tell you something, that is love I’d die for.

How are you at receiving love and care from others?
It’s tricky, this giving and receiving thing – Jesus implies we have to be equally good at both.

Who do you let get close to you, close enough to see your flaws and blemishes? Thank God for them.

Who lets you show them love? How does it feel?
Would you withhold that feeling from someone who wants to show you love?

Tonight, if you’re participating in a service that includes foot washing, will you be vulnerable enough to let someone wash your feet? Those hands will be Jesus’ hands, bathing you in love. Be a part of his amazing love.

© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

4-15-25 - Philip of Bethsaida

You can listen to this reflection here. Today's gospel reading is here. 

Each day this Holy Week we will use the gospel appointed for the day, and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage our imaginations as we walk this story with Jesus. Today we reflect on a remark Jesus made about grains of wheat and dying in order to live. Today we’ll hear from:

Philip of Bethsaida: People always wanted to see Jesus; what was so different about these Greeks, that their seeking him out should cause him such sadness?

I wasn’t sure I should bother him when they approached me. I mean, a LOT of people wanted to see Jesus – not all of them friendly – and he seemed tense and tired. So I checked in with Andrew, who's closer to the inner circle than I. We went together to Jesus. His response surprised me. “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified,” he said. I wasn’t sure what that meant but he just looked resigned, and added, “I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”

I couldn't pretend not to know what he was talking about – the rumors of plots against him have been flying for weeks now. It got a lot worse after Lazarus. The religious leaders are not happy with Jesus’ popularity, or his miracles. And now even Greeks in Jerusalem for Passover want to see him? This will not be good.

Or is it “good” in a much bigger picture? Jesus keeps hinting at a mission broader than we can imagine, that God is up to something huge. Is that what he means by “fruit?” Could something good come from the death of one so amazing as Jesus? Whom I, we, believe to be the Anointed One, the Messiah himself? What kind of fruit might he bear if he dies?

Is he talking about us too? Are we all called to be grains of wheat, broken open so the life of God can break out?

“Whoever serves me must follow me,” he said. “And where I am, there will my servant be also.” Well, I am his servant. I can think of no greater purpose for my life than to serve Jesus. I will stay as close to him this week as I can, and hope against hope he’s just speaking in metaphors…

How about us? Are we willing to stay close to Jesus this week? What do you find most unsettling about the whole story of Holy Week? Is there a part you routinely want to avoid? Why do you suppose that is?

I pray that we might walk closely with Jesus this week, allowing him to be real in our lives - not only the suffering crucified one, but the risen Lord of heaven and earth, bearing abundant fruit through us.

You are welcome to join me tonight at 7:30 pm EDT for an online service for Tuesday in Holy Week - link is here. Our Holy Week schedule of services, most of which can be accessed online, is here.

© 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.

4-14-25 - Mary of Bethany

You can listen to this reflection here. Each day this Holy Week we will use the gospel appointed for the day, and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage our imaginations as we walk this story with Jesus. Today we reflect on John 12:1-11, returning again to that dinner party in Bethany where Mary anointed Jesus’ feet with a whole jar of perfumed ointment.

Mary of Bethany:
I know it was an intimate thing to do, even scandalous. You should have seen my sister Martha’s face when I poured a whole pound of pure nard on Jesus’ feet! But Jesus was like my brother. Yes, he was my Lord, but I also loved him like I loved Lazarus. It seemed the most natural and full way to honor him before he… before... you know…

How did I know he was going to leave us soon? It wasn’t just because he had said so, several times. I just felt it. After Lazarus’ death, when Jesus raised him… I stood at that tomb and was filled with a knowing: “Before too long we will have to bury the Teacher.” It was like I could see into his spirit; I knew he would be taken from us.

This might be the last time he was in our home. I had bought the nard to anoint him after his death; I didn’t want them using anything cheap on him. I used all the money I’d gotten from the clothes I made and sold. I wanted the best for him. But that night I looked at him in the flickering light, as we all sat at the table after the meal, talking and talking, as we always did… and I thought, “Why waste this on him after his death. He should be honored like this in life.” And that was it; I just got up and took the jar and broke it and poured it all over his feet, the whole thing, everything for him.

“Oh the waste!” they cried, Judas leading the charge. “This could have been sold and given to the poor!” Well, of course it could have. But that wasn’t the point. The point was to honor Jesus, to give him comfort and love and protection because we would not be able to protect him from what was ahead. This was one way I could show love to him.

It was shocking to hear him say it so bluntly, that we wouldn’t always have him with us. I still don’t think they really heard him, or understood. But he let me know I had done the right thing, as wrong as it seemed to everyone else there. He was going to lay down his life for us. I didn’t know what would happen after that. He had talked about being raised on the third day. He had said something to Martha at the tomb about being the resurrection and the life, and “Do you believe this?” But how could we know what would be?

Now I do know, and I ask you: was my action any more “wasteful” than the Son of God pouring out his life for the likes of me? For those who wouldn’t even recognize the gift?

Mary’s act of devotion and worship is unbelievably extravagant, seemingly wasteful. She held nothing back. Do you ever feel that toward Jesus… maybe toward someone else in your life?

The time you are spending now is precious to God… and as we give this, we can begin to look at what we’re holding back and release that too.

You are welcome to join me tonight at 7:30 pm EDT for an online service for Monday in Holy Week - link is here. Our Holy Week schedule of services, most of which can be accessed online, is here.

© 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.

3-30-24 - Holy Saturday: The Other Mary

Each day this week we hear from one of the main characters in the gospel reading appointed for the day, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage your own imagination as you walk this story with Jesus. You can listen to this reflection here. 

The Other Mary: That’s what I’m called in these accounts of Jesus’ death – “The Other Mary.” Like these gospel writers couldn’t bother to get my full name or where I’m from. I’m not Mary, Jesus’ mother; nor Mary of Bethany or Mary of Magdala. I am Mary, mother of James. And I was there.

I watched them murder him. I watched his mother’s agony, watching him in agony. I heard the scoffers and the mockers. I saw them take his body down. I helped wrap him in a clean cloth and went along to the tomb that Joseph so generously offered for our use. There was no time to prepare his body – the sabbath was about to begin, and this is the Passover sabbath. We had to put his body somewhere safe until this sabbath is over. We will be there at dawn on Sunday with our spices and ointments to anoint him for a proper burial.

But now we must wait. Doing nothing. This is the worst sabbath I have ever endured. I love my sabbaths – the God-commanded day of rest when I can put down my cooking and cleaning and mending and tending. My only chores are feeding my family and our animals; the rest of the time I can nap, or read, or walk slowly enough to notice the new growth on the fields and trees, appreciate the birds and creatures around me. God’s greatest gift, this sabbath day each week.

But not this week. To bear this weight of pain and loss, with no tasks to distract us? To have nothing to do BUT think and talk and remember how our Lord we loved so much, who gave us so much, was tortured to death for no reason but to protect the pride and arrogance of insecure men? To have nothing to hold back the waves of feelings that threaten to drown us – terror, rage, confusion, and sorrow, sorrow so deep I don’t think we’ll ever get to the end of it. What have they done? How will we live?

So I will sit, and feel what I don’t want to feel. I will rest, like God rested on the seventh day. Was he gathering up his energy to create even more new life?
What would new life even look like, now?

Will you spend this day in Sabbath time – resting, walking, praying, not doing anything productive? That is one of the best ways to honor Jesus and prepare to celebrate the joy of Easter Day…
You are welcome to join our Great Vigil of Easter service online tonight at 8 pm here.

3-18-24 - Approaching Jerusalem

You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.

Jesus has performed his last healing, at least as Mark tells the story of his life and death. He healed blind Bartimaeus outside Jericho, and now he is approaching Jerusalem.

Jerusalem, named for peace (“salem”), but so often the site of religious violence and bloodshed. Jerusalem, where Jesus is to face violence and bloodshed – his own blood poured out to fulfill God’s mission to restore creation to wholeness. He has told his disciples yet again what he faces in Jerusalem, and once again they have squabbled, unable to take in the magnitude of his words. From this point on Jesus does no more healing or soothing. He faces down his accusers, cleanses the temple of corrupt influences and tells pointed stories. And moves inexorably toward his passion and death.

In our church year we too are approaching Jerusalem, closing in on Holy Week. For those who draw near, “close enough to smell the blood,” as one preacher I knew used to say, it is a time of discomfort and disjunction as we hover near the mystery of such a life, such a death, and such life emerging from such death. Death and Life are inextricably linked in this passion and resurrection story of ours.

Of course, death and life are inextricably linked in our own lives and our world as well: the natural world around us with its seasons and evolutions and swift brutality; the social worlds around us with all their violence and conflict... and sometimes peace emerging through it all. Even in our own bodies, life and death compete, as the rate of cells dying gradually overtakes the generative impulse toward life and the system runs down for good. Life and death are always joined, but it is human nature to focus on life, glancing at death only when we are forced to do so.

Thus Palm Sunday is a weird occasion for those who take their Christian commitment seriously. We voluntarily focus our attention on the mistreatment and murder of a man of pure wholeness, complete integrity. If we allow the horror to penetrate us it can leave us unsettled, even frightened. I once spoke to a child who had attended our Stations of the Cross service; as she put it, "It freaked me out." She was able to handle it in the safety of a loving family and church community, but it’s a lot to take in, no matter what age. If we’re paying attention, it freaks us all out.

So we tiptoe up to it. It’s still a week away; but the Palm Sunday story we focus on this week brings us to the threshold of that walk to the Cross. Let’s take this week to prepare ourselves, which really just means opening our spirits to the drama and the trauma, the horror and the overwhelming love. Let’s ask God where in our lives we are called to live this story, and to make it known.

In our lives as Christ followers we are always approaching Jerusalem, that place where our ministry comes into sharpest focus, where God desires to make the world whole through us. We believe Christ accomplished that once and for all on the cross, yet somehow that redemption needs to be made real through us, one person at a time.

For Jesus, it was the cross. What ministry is it for us, on this side of Calvary and Easter? What work of redemption does God want to complete through you?

© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

4-6-23 - Andrew of Capernaum - Again

This week we will look at the gospel reading appointed for each day and reflect from the perspective of one the people on the fringes of the story. We too are on the fringes of this story – and we are invited to come into its heart this week. May these holy men and women draw us closer. Today's gospel is John 13:1-17. You can listen to this reflection here.

Andrew of Capernaum - My brother! Jesus sure nailed it with the nickname he gave him, Petros, the rock. Never met anyone so hard-headed. And lovable, ornery, faithful, cowardly – all rolled into one ball of leap-before-you-look, speak-before-you-think energy. He’s been like that since we were kids – got me into trouble more times than I want to remember, and usually all I was doing was watching.

So tonight, when Jesus got up from the table, tied on a towel and started to wash our feet, we’re all looking at each other, mortified – it’s Simon who put into words what a lot of us were thinking. “Lord, you’re gonna wash my feet? Think again!” Jesus just looked at him with that mixture of irritation and love he so often had for Simon, and said, “If you don’t let me wash you, you have no part with me.” But Simon doesn’t let it rest – he has to argue. Argue with our Master! On this night, above all nights. “Okay, wash all of me, then! Why stop with my feet?”

Jesus had an answer for him, of course. He always did. It was their game – Simon pushing as hard as he could, Jesus coming right back at him. How they loved each other. Love each other.

It was hard for Simon to submit to being cared for. Hard for all of us. When Jesus got to me, I didn’t want him touching my feet. They’re not pretty. They were filthy, as feet are in our time and place. But he focused on that task like it was the only thing in the world he had to do. He got them clean, he rinsed and dried them, and I just had to sit there and receive. I think that was the hardest of all the things Jesus has asked us to do in the three years since I met him along the banks of the Jordan. Just sit and receive his gift.

I didn't know that that’s all I would be doing for the next 24 hours – watching him give his life away for me, helpless to help him, nothing left for me but to receive his gift. And if I have trouble being this still and powerless, what on earth must my poor brother be going through?

How are you at receiving the gifts God wants to give to you? How are you at receiving care from others? It’s harder for most people to submit to having someone else wash their feet than it is to wash another’s (unless we’re paying for a pedicure…). Yet arguably our most important spiritual task is learning to receive the love and grace and power of God so we can share it freely with others.

So tonight, if you're going to a Maundy Thursday service (and I hope you are!) - push past your discomfort and allow someone to wash your feet, knowing it is Jesus working through them. It is in receiving that we learn how to give.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Today’s readings are here. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

4-5-23 - The Other Judas

This week we will look at the gospel reading appointed for each day and reflect from the perspective of one the people on the fringes of the story. We too are on the fringes of this story – and we are invited to come into its heart this week. May these holy men and women draw us closer. Today's Gospel reading is John 13:21-32.
You can listen to this reflection here.

Judas, son of James: Why is this night SO different from any other night! The tension at the Seder table is thick enough to cut. Even after the weirdness of the foot washing, it is clear the troubles are getting to him. Jesus can stand pressure better than most, but nobody can take months of rumors and interrogations and death threats and not be affected. Nothing he said or did tonight made sense, not the washing, certainly not the words about the bread and the wine… His body? His blood?

Then he said one of us would betray him. One of us? We love him! We believe in him. We left everything to follow him. Why would one of us turn him in to the authorities? We all looked at each other, at Jesus. He wouldn’t give a name – he just said, “It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish.”

I am glad he didn’t say the name – because it was Judas! He handed the bread to Judas Iscariot. The other Judas. Or is it me who is the other Judas? Yes, Jesus had two disciples named Judas. You know a lot about the Iscariot. Me – you only know by name, in a list of those disciples called by Jesus to be among his twelve closest followers. I don’t even make every list – I’m only mentioned in Luke’s story.

But I have been there, day in, day out, traveling with him, helping to heal the sick, proclaim the Good News to those who would listen. I have been with him in the rain, in the mud, in the sunshine, at the dinner parties. We never knew what was going to happen next. Only that he could transform the worst circumstances into something with life and hope.

The other Judas has been with us through it all too. I don’t understand how he could turn like that. Sure, he was really upset a few nights ago at dinner, when Mary poured all this expensive ointment on Jesus’ feet. He looked like a walking thunder cloud. Would that be enough to cause him to sell Jesus out?

Jesus said to him, “Do quickly what you are going to do,” and Judas left the room. Left our company. We thought maybe he'd gone to pick up some supplies before the Sabbath began tomorrow, but… he was on a different errand.

I still believe Jesus can transform the worst circumstances into something with life and hope. But even this?

You’ve probably been at some tense family meals in your life… you may even have known betrayal. How does it help our faith to know Jesus experienced those things?

Can we spare some sympathy for Judas Iscariot? 

Can we forgive those who have betrayed us? It’s never too late. We can start by asking God to give us the grace to see that person as God sees them, with compassion. And then allow God’s grace to take hold of us, gradually or all at once. New life...

You are welcome to join my congregations for online worship this evening - here is the link. Our Holy Week line-up of services, many online or hybrid, is here.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Today’s readings are here. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

4-4-23 - Andrew of Capernaum

This week we will look at the gospel reading appointed for each day and reflect from the perspective of one the people on the fringes of the story. We too are on the fringes of this story – and we are invited to come into its heart this week. May these holy men and women draw us closer. Today's gospel is John 12:20-26.
You can listen to this reflection here.

Andrew of Capernaum: Wow – this movement of ours is really growing! Philip just came over and told me some Greeks wanted to meet Jesus – they’d heard of him! They’re in town for Passover, and they want to meet Jesus! Our Jesus. I was really excited to go tell him.

But he didn’t seem thrilled – he just got really quiet. He said, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified” – but where you’d think “glorified” was a good thing, he seemed to dread it. And then this cryptic thing about grains of wheat falling into the earth and dying…

We’re all worried about him. And about ourselves – if they arrest him, will they take us too? I can tell my brother Simon is nervous – just makes him more blustery and “Let ’em come for me.” After the thing with Lazarus the rumors got more intense – those leaders at the temple don’t want Jesus getting this kind of attention. And maybe they’re afraid of his power. Because no one has ever seen anything like his power – bringing someone four days dead back to life? Who does that?

“The hour,” he said. Has everything we’ve been doing with him for three years been leading up to one moment? Is something going to happen that will change everything? I thought we’d just keep going as we have been, traveling around with him, preaching and healing, proclaiming freedom and forgiveness, gaining followers. Is this all about more than gaining followers? Is God up to something even bigger? Is that what Jesus means by the seed – “If it dies, it bears much fruit?”

I don’t want to die. And I don’t want him to die! I love that man; I’d give my life for him. I don’t want him to give his life for me… But that’s what he said: “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” What did he mean? Will he be broken open, like a seed? Will I? Am I ready to be broken open?

How about us? Are we willing to let some of our dreams and demands die and fall into the earth like seeds, so they might be transformed into fruit-bearing God dreams? Are we willing to become more fruitful with God?

Let's walk closely with Jesus this week, allowing him to be real in our lives - not the suffering crucified one, but the risen Lord of heaven and earth, bearing abundant fruit through us.

You are welcome to join my congregations for online worship this evening - here is the link. Our Holy Week line-up of services, many online or hybrid, is here.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Today’s readings are here. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

4-3-23 - Lazarus of Bethany

This week we will look at the gospel reading appointed for each day and reflect from the perspective of one the people on the fringes of the story. We too are on the fringes of this story – and we are invited to come into its heart this week. May these holy men and women draw us closer. Today it is John 12:1-11. You can listen to this reflection here.

Lazarus of Bethany: So, they want to kill me – I, who have already tasted death. More than tasted – spent four days in that place where there is no light. Came back to myself in a cold, dark, rancid place; came back to myself at the sound of his voice calling me. Stumbled toward the light beyond the rock they’d just moved to let me out, not sure where I was, or who.

If I hadn’t seen the power and love in this man who became my friend, I might say Jesus was the worst thing that could have happened to my family. His visits caused my sisters to squabble, his friendship drew unwanted attention. But I can say with my whole heart that meeting Jesus was the best thing that ever happened to us. He drew out the gentleness in Martha, who so often uses her intelligence and competence to control events and other people. And I’ve seen our sister Mary show a new boldness and courage since coming to know Jesus.

Like tonight, at dinner at our house – she took a whole jar of nard that must have cost her the earth, and anointed Jesus’ feet with it. Just got on her knees and anointed him and then wiped his feet with her hair. It was extraordinary, and unsettling. Didn’t make his disciples happy – don’t know if it was the extravagance or the intimacy that bothered them most. But Jesus defended her, talking about her having “bought it for the day of my burial.” He knew the end of this life was coming soon; I wonder if he knew how ghastly that end would be? Did he fear it? The suffering? The dying? Did he know what would come next – really know? Or did he have to walk by faith, like all of us?

And now, because so many have come to believe in Jesus because he raised me, they want to kill me. The symbol. The forerunner. You know what? They don’t scare me. Death no longer scares me. Like my sisters, I believe Jesus is who he says he is, the Anointed of God, the Messiah we’ve been awaiting.

And I know that the next time I leave this life, it won’t be to the place of complete darkness. For he will be with me, the Light of the World will illumine even that darkness and make it holy. I just wish he didn’t have to pass through the darkness himself first…

What in Lazarus’ story – or Martha’s, or Mary’s – brings up a story in you? A story of new life returning from dead places? A story of hospitality and service? A story of extravagant sacrifice to honor Jesus or your faith? What do you want to offer Jesus today?

You are welcome to join my congregations for online worship this evening - here is the link. Our Holy Week line-up of services, many online or hybrid, is here.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Today’s readings are here. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

3-30-23 - Who Is This?

You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here. 

Every once in a while I come across a news item about some reality or sports star I’ve never heard of, who has gained some notoriety, or picked up another million or so Twitter followers – and I go, “Who the heck is that?” Evidently that’s how some people on the edges of that crowd hailing Jesus with palm branches and Hosanna!’s felt: When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, "Who is this?’ "The crowds were saying, "This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee."

Some in the crowd recognized him as the Christ, the Messiah. Many assumed that the Messiah would have a military mission, liberating them from the hated Romans as their forebears had been liberated from Egyptian domination. A greater majority probably saw Jesus as a prophet, for only a prophet sent from God could do the kind of miracles Jesus was doing and speak with the authority with which he spoke. It was a big deal to be regarded as a prophet – but to be seen as Messiah? That was less likely.

The proportions in that crowd may be similar to the way Jesus is seen in the world today. To many he is a prophet. Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Sikhs, and other traditions, as well as some atheists and agnostics, see him as an important world religious figure of inestimable influence. I suspect some who claim the title “Christian” also view him this way, as an important moral teacher and prophet, but not divine. Baha'i see Christ as divine, though not in quite the same way as Christians do. To credal Christians, though, and to some in that crowd that day, Jesus was more than prophet. He had been revealed as Lord, Adonai, the long-awaited Deliverer.

Many people in our own day still say, when they hear of Jesus, “Who is this?” It is our privilege to introduce him, to say who we have experienced Jesus to be. We can also be sure people hear of Jesus. We don’t have to spout a party line or to tell other people’s stories – we can speak out of our own experience, and out of our tradition.

This time in our church year, when we mark Holy Week and Easter, is a particularly good time to tell our stories and make our introductions – invite people to come and experience the story for themselves on Palm Sunday, to hear the scope of God’s love for humanity at the Great Vigil of Easter, to soak up the celebration and joy on Easter Sunday.

And if our experience of Jesus is limited to what we’ve heard or read; if we’re still asking “Who is this?” ourselves, then we can ask him to make himself real to us in a new way this year, so that we can receive – and share – the gift more fully.

Wherever we find ourselves in this story, I hope we will share the ministry of that donkey – to bear Christ into the crowds, humble and patient, lifting him up for all to see, getting him to the places he needs to be in order to transform the world.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Next Sunday’s readings are here. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

4-16-22 - Holy Saturday: Joseph

Each day this week we will use the gospel appointed for the day, and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage your own imagination as you walk this story with Jesus.
You can listen to this reflection here.

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?

Today, offer the gift of time and worship – come to the Great Vigil of Easter online at 8 pm tonight (or in person at Christ Church in La Plata, if you're local). It is a magical, mysterious, multi-media experience that takes us from the shadows of death into the light of Life. Bring a bell!

Our schedule of Holy Week services, most of which can be accessed online, is here.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Next Sunday’s readings are here. Water Daily is now a podcast! Subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

4-14-22 - Maundy Thursday: Peter

Each day this week we will use the gospel appointed for the day, and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage your own imagination as you walk this story with Jesus. You can listen to this reflection here.

Simon Peter of Capernaum: I know what you’re thinking – a tough guy like me? Crying like a baby? I couldn’t help it. After what I did… after what I didn’t do? He told me, you know? He said one of us was going to betray him and we were all going to deny we knew him, and I said, “Oh, no, Lord, I’ll never deny you! Even if I have to die with you!”

But he told me, he already knew, that before the cock crowed twice this morning, I would. He was right. I was worthless to him! I couldn’t even stand it for an hour. I couldn’t even stay awake with him last night, I couldn’t defend him…

But he didn’t want us to fight. He said it had to happen this way. This, from a guy who has power like you’ve never seen. But this man, last night, got down on his knees and washed our feet. Like a servant. Like a slave. He knelt down in front of me with this basin and started to wash my feet. I pulled them back! The idea of him, touching my feet! My feet… my feet are filthy. They smell like cheese you left lying around your kitchen for too many weeks. They’re caked in mud and dirt and God knows what. They’ve got sores…

But he said, “If I do not wash you, you have no part with me.” Okay, then, I said, don’t stop with my feet. Wash my hands and my head too! But he just said, no, I was clean. Then he washed my feet like they were babies, like they were precious. He washed my feet like he loved them, and me along with them.

Everything he’d ever said made sense right then, because he loved me so much. I don’t understand it. I’m not lovable. I’m loud, crude, ornery. I’m always charging in without thinking… but he loves me. There’s nothing I’ve done to make it so. I betrayed him tonight, as much as Judas. I ran like a coward. I lied about him, three times.

But just now, they brought him out and as he passed, he looked at me. He knew what I had done, but he looked at me with those eyes that see everything, and he still loved me. No matter what I do. It’s an amazing thing. And I’ll tell you something, that is love I’d die for.

How are you at receiving love and care from others? It’s tricky, this giving and receiving thing – Jesus implies we have to be equally good at both.

Who do you let get close to you, close enough to see your flaws and blemishes? Thank God for them.

Who lets you show them love? How does it feel?
Would you withhold that feeling from someone who wants to show you love?

Tonight, if you’re participating in a service that includes foot washing, will you be vulnerable enough to let someone wash your feet? Those hands will be Jesus’ hands, bathing you in love. Be a part of his amazing love.

Our schedule of Holy Week services, most of which can be accessed online, is here.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Next Sunday’s readings are here. Water Daily is now a podcast! Subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.

4-13-22 - Wednesday in Holy Week: Judas

Each day this week we will use the gospel appointed for the day, and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage your own imagination as you walk this story with Jesus. You can listen to this reflection here.

Judas Iscariot: I know, I’m the bad guy in all this. “How could you?” they all ask. And he asked, “With a kiss? Did you have to betray me with a symbol of love and friendship?”

But what did he want? He as good as made me do it. He said, at dinner, “What you have to do, do it quickly.” He knew. I’m just a pawn in all this. But no one’s going to understand that, are they? I’m the bad guy. The one.

You’re wondering how I could betray him, why I would betray someone who showed me so much love and acceptance. What you have to understand is, it wasn’t about him. It couldn’t be about him in the end – it had to be about the work, right? The revolution. Feeding the poor, empowering the weak, kicking out the Romans. Justice. Freedom.

“The Kingdom of God is coming,” he said. Bring it on! We had that parade into Jerusalem and the crowd was all worked up, shouting hosanna. That must have given the Romans something to think about. And then he kicked butt up at the temple, giving it to those accomodationist Jewish leaders, collaborators … it was great.

But then he slowed down again – he’d tell these weird stories that hardly made sense. We were wasting so much time. And there was the thing at that dinner in Bethany, where Lazarus' sister Mary emptied like a whole bottle of really expensive perfumed oil on his feet. We could have fed a whole village for a month with what that cost! But he defended her. “She’s preparing me for death,” he said, like that was supposed to make sense. All this death stuff all the time, and he wasn’t even fighting it.

All of a sudden he thought he was more important than the poor? He was completely out of touch. What was I supposed to do, sit back and watch the whole thing unravel? We need a revolution. We need justice. I couldn’t just turn my back on…

But I don’t expect you to understand. And you should know – I gave the money back!

So, who is Judas? Traitor? Zeolot? Freedom fighter? God’s patsy? Can you relate to him on any level?

Today, let’s pray for the Judases in our lives, and in ourselves. If we have free will, so do they… and wholeness must be possible for them too.

For a beautiful take on Judas that emphasizes the enormity of God’s grace, listen to U2’s “Until the End of the World,” which imagines a conversation between Jesus and Judas. Concert version; Official video (clearer lyrics, dumber visuals…)

You are welcome to join me tonight at 7 pm EDT for an online service for Wednesday in Holy Week - link is here. Our Holy Week schedule of services, most of which can be accessed online, is here.

Our schedule of Holy Week services, most of which can be accessed online, is here.

To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Next Sunday’s readings are here. Water Daily is now a podcast! Subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.