You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“You shall love your neighbor as yourself." Jesus called this the second core of the Law: Love God with all your being, and your neighbor as yourself.
This commandment can tempt us to ask, “Then who is my neighbor?” A lawyer of Jesus’ day asked him just that question. Jesus answered with the story of the Good Samaritan, one conclusion of which is that the neighbor who cares for us can be someone we don’t like or trust very much. Our neighbor can be anyone, and is everyone.
Today I'm less interested in that question than in the second part of the verse – “as yourself.” Jesus (and the compilers of the law codes in Leviticus) links love for self and love for other in a way that merits deeper exploration. What does it mean to love my neighbor as I love myself? Since we don’t always love ourselves very well, we don’t always love our neighbors well either. If we are very critical of ourselves, or take poor care of ourselves, we’ll extend that tendency to other people. That is one way of loving our neighbors as ourselves – but not a very life-giving way.
How else do we love ourselves? Most of us are protective of our security – maybe loving our neighbors as ourselves means we’re equally concerned about theirs. Most of us are wired to be sure we have enough to eat and a sheltered place to live… a godly love for neighbor would include wanting the same for them.
Yikes - this is a lot! Is it just too much to love our neighbors as ourselves? Too hard? God doesn't call us to anything his Spirit can’t equip us to handle. We just have to let the Spirit rewire the faulty coding we get from this world, the message that says put yourself and your own kind first, don’t trust the Other. But can we ever love our neighbor enough to feed everybody in the world? Well, we know there is enough food; it’s just not distributed equitably. So maybe loving our neighbor as ourselves motivates us to work on that challenge, or on housing, or security. Maybe we keep less for ourselves so our neighbor has more.
Ultimately, this neighbor-loving business grows one neighbor at a time. When we go global in our thinking, we can end up paralyzed or discouraged. But one neighbor today? Maybe one you hadn’t planned on loving? Maybe start simply by praying for that person to be blessed?
In prayer today think first of yourself. Try to imagine for a moment how God sees you. Love what you see, or at least trust in God’s love for you. And then imagine someone who is your neighbor. If you’re feeling adventurous, ask God, “Who is the neighbor you want me to love today?” Who knows whose face is going to come up in your mind’s eye! Sit with the image. Ask how you’re being called to love that person.
In a world where we often experience scarcity, neighbors are one thing we’ll never run out of. And learning to love them is a challenge for our whole lifetime. We may as well get good at it, because I have a feeling that is exactly what we will be doing for all of eternity.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Showing posts with label Love your neighbor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love your neighbor. Show all posts
10-31-24 - Love Your Neighbor
You can listen to this reflection here.
In this week’s gospel reading, we overhear a conversation between Jesus and a scribe who has asked him, “Which commandment is first of all?” His first reply is unsurprising; he quotes the Shema Yisrael and adds, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” Got it. Religious people know about loving God.
But then he adds an obscure half-verse from the book of Leviticus, and raises it to the same status as the first commandment: “The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” That was a game-changer.
This verse comes from Leviticus 19:18: You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord. Chapter 19 of Leviticus details a series of laws governing all sorts of human relationships, commercial, sexual, familial, occult – you name it. These six words barely stand out, yet Jesus elevates them to core commandment. “On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets,” he says in another gospel version of this story.
Jesus’ piercing intellect and knowledge of Scripture allowed him to strip away the thicket of words and hone in on the one commandment that enables us to keep all the others. If we could only love God with our whole being, and truly love our neighbors and ourselves, we would need no other commandments.
Why is it so hard to love our neighbors? For starters, there are too many of them. We’re overwhelmed, so we rank and sort them by all kinds of categories – how like us or not they are; how needy or resourced they are; how much or little we approve of how they conduct themselves. As soon as we start to rank and pick and choose, love is compromised. When Jesus was asked by another scribe, “Then who is my neighbor?” he answered by telling a story in which the neighbor who cared for a person in need turns out to be someone his questioner had defined out of his neighbor list.
We cannot control what our neighbors do – that can make them hard to love. In the fraught and fractured times in which we live, it is even harder to name someone as “neighbor” (let alone fellow Christian) who holds views and takes actions that we consider hateful and destructive to human life. But, as the sign that has appeared in front of many churches reads, “Jesus said, “Love your neighbor. No exceptions.” We may have to find God’s love for some neighbors and borrow that until we can find our own. There’s a place to start. Everything gets easier when we love our neighbors.
This verse includes another challenge: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Ah – there’s a deeper reason we can find it hard to love our neighbors. It’s hard to love ourselves, especially if the world or family or an inner sense of shame or unworthiness tell us that’s ridiculous. But God says, “I love you, I made you, I delight in you.” Are we not to love what God loves? We may have to find God’s love for ourselves and borrow that until we can find our own. And when we love ourselves, with compassion and clarity about all that’s lovable in us and all that is not, we are better able to love our neighbors the same way.
Sigh! As my friend Peter says, “If it were easy, everyone would be doing it.” Maybe we make it harder than it has to be. Anything God calls us to, God equips us for. Maybe we can stop trying to do this loving on our own, and let God’s love flow through us – to ourselves, to our neighbors and back to God.
© 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, we overhear a conversation between Jesus and a scribe who has asked him, “Which commandment is first of all?” His first reply is unsurprising; he quotes the Shema Yisrael and adds, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” Got it. Religious people know about loving God.
But then he adds an obscure half-verse from the book of Leviticus, and raises it to the same status as the first commandment: “The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” That was a game-changer.
This verse comes from Leviticus 19:18: You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord. Chapter 19 of Leviticus details a series of laws governing all sorts of human relationships, commercial, sexual, familial, occult – you name it. These six words barely stand out, yet Jesus elevates them to core commandment. “On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets,” he says in another gospel version of this story.
Jesus’ piercing intellect and knowledge of Scripture allowed him to strip away the thicket of words and hone in on the one commandment that enables us to keep all the others. If we could only love God with our whole being, and truly love our neighbors and ourselves, we would need no other commandments.
Why is it so hard to love our neighbors? For starters, there are too many of them. We’re overwhelmed, so we rank and sort them by all kinds of categories – how like us or not they are; how needy or resourced they are; how much or little we approve of how they conduct themselves. As soon as we start to rank and pick and choose, love is compromised. When Jesus was asked by another scribe, “Then who is my neighbor?” he answered by telling a story in which the neighbor who cared for a person in need turns out to be someone his questioner had defined out of his neighbor list.
We cannot control what our neighbors do – that can make them hard to love. In the fraught and fractured times in which we live, it is even harder to name someone as “neighbor” (let alone fellow Christian) who holds views and takes actions that we consider hateful and destructive to human life. But, as the sign that has appeared in front of many churches reads, “Jesus said, “Love your neighbor. No exceptions.” We may have to find God’s love for some neighbors and borrow that until we can find our own. There’s a place to start. Everything gets easier when we love our neighbors.
This verse includes another challenge: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Ah – there’s a deeper reason we can find it hard to love our neighbors. It’s hard to love ourselves, especially if the world or family or an inner sense of shame or unworthiness tell us that’s ridiculous. But God says, “I love you, I made you, I delight in you.” Are we not to love what God loves? We may have to find God’s love for ourselves and borrow that until we can find our own. And when we love ourselves, with compassion and clarity about all that’s lovable in us and all that is not, we are better able to love our neighbors the same way.
Sigh! As my friend Peter says, “If it were easy, everyone would be doing it.” Maybe we make it harder than it has to be. Anything God calls us to, God equips us for. Maybe we can stop trying to do this loving on our own, and let God’s love flow through us – to ourselves, to our neighbors and back to God.
© 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.
5-9-22 - Separation Anxiety
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Nobody likes to be left, not even Jesus’ disciples. In our lectionary time travels through Eastertide, we’re back to the night Jesus was arrested, in that upper room where they have just had supper. He has washed their feet, said strange things about bread and wine, and predicted that one of them would betray him. Judas has just left to do that. Now he gives a lengthy farewell speech. Jesus has a lot to say to his followers before they go out into the Garden of Gethsemane.
He says something rather confusing about glorifying and being glorified, but the next part is painfully clear: "Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, 'Where I am going, you cannot come.'”
It makes me think of a child wailing, “Wanna come with! Wanna come with!” as his parents gently but firmly explain why he cannot join them for an evening out. “Where I am going, you cannot come.” But a parent usually adds, “I’ll be home later,” while here Jesus tells his disciples the worst: “I am with you only a little longer.” And soon he will be gone, gone, gone… and then mysteriously back, but not in the same way. Never again in the same way.
The movement of God is always forward, not back. The mystery of God is One in unity yet with Three distinct persons. And one of the mysteries we live with as followers of the risen and ascended Christ is being separate from him while mystically united with him. We claim his life lives in us through the Spirit, yet when we pray, it is to an Other distinct from us.
The disciples had to get used to Jesus’ absence. We have a different challenge: to become used to his presence, real though not embodied. For when Jesus made his final departure in bodily form, he promised that his Father would send his Spirit to be with his followers, that he would be with them through his Spirit.
Children learning to deal with separation from parents are often given a “transitional object,” a blanket or toy or stuffed animal that carries some of the presence of the parent and eases the separating process. Well, Christ-followers are given what we might call the ultimate in transitional objects, the Spirit of the Holy God to fill us, surround us, comfort us, empower us – and remind us that God will never leave us or forsake us.
Separation anxiety is real, and varies in intensity for each of us relative to our experiences in early childhood. But in the spiritual life, the Life we live in God’s realm, Jesus is always here, always present. And not only is he never leaving again; he wants us to come out and play with him.
Nobody likes to be left, not even Jesus’ disciples. In our lectionary time travels through Eastertide, we’re back to the night Jesus was arrested, in that upper room where they have just had supper. He has washed their feet, said strange things about bread and wine, and predicted that one of them would betray him. Judas has just left to do that. Now he gives a lengthy farewell speech. Jesus has a lot to say to his followers before they go out into the Garden of Gethsemane.
He says something rather confusing about glorifying and being glorified, but the next part is painfully clear: "Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, 'Where I am going, you cannot come.'”
It makes me think of a child wailing, “Wanna come with! Wanna come with!” as his parents gently but firmly explain why he cannot join them for an evening out. “Where I am going, you cannot come.” But a parent usually adds, “I’ll be home later,” while here Jesus tells his disciples the worst: “I am with you only a little longer.” And soon he will be gone, gone, gone… and then mysteriously back, but not in the same way. Never again in the same way.
The movement of God is always forward, not back. The mystery of God is One in unity yet with Three distinct persons. And one of the mysteries we live with as followers of the risen and ascended Christ is being separate from him while mystically united with him. We claim his life lives in us through the Spirit, yet when we pray, it is to an Other distinct from us.
The disciples had to get used to Jesus’ absence. We have a different challenge: to become used to his presence, real though not embodied. For when Jesus made his final departure in bodily form, he promised that his Father would send his Spirit to be with his followers, that he would be with them through his Spirit.
Children learning to deal with separation from parents are often given a “transitional object,” a blanket or toy or stuffed animal that carries some of the presence of the parent and eases the separating process. Well, Christ-followers are given what we might call the ultimate in transitional objects, the Spirit of the Holy God to fill us, surround us, comfort us, empower us – and remind us that God will never leave us or forsake us.
Separation anxiety is real, and varies in intensity for each of us relative to our experiences in early childhood. But in the spiritual life, the Life we live in God’s realm, Jesus is always here, always present. And not only is he never leaving again; he wants us to come out and play with him.
10-28-21 - Loving Our Neighbors - and Ourselves
You can listen to this reflection here.
In this week’s gospel reading, we overhear a conversation between Jesus and a scribe who has asked him, “Which commandment is first of all?” His first reply is unsurprising; he quotes the Shema Yisrael and adds, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” Got it. Religious people know about loving God.
But then he adds half an obscure verse from the book of Leviticus, and raises it to the same status as the Shema: “The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” That was a game-changer.
This verse comes from Leviticus 19:18: You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord. Chapter 19 of Leviticus details a series of laws governing all sorts of human relationships, commercial, sexual, familial, occult – you name it. These six words barely stand out, yet Jesus elevates them to core commandment. “On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets,” he says in another gospel version of this story.
Jesus’ piercing intellect and knowledge of Scripture allowed him to strip away the thicket of words and hone in on the one commandment that enables us to keep all the others. If we could only love God with our whole being, and truly love our neighbors and ourselves, we would need no other commandments.
Why is it so hard to love our neighbors? For starters, there are too many of them. We’re overwhelmed, and so we rank and sort them by all kinds of categories – how like us or not they are; how needy or resourced they are; how much or little we approve of how they conduct themselves. As soon as we start to rank and pick and choose, love is compromised. When Jesus was asked by another scribe, “Then who is my neighbor?” he answered by telling a story in which the neighbor who cared for a person in need turned out to be someone his questioner had defined out of his neighbor list.
And we cannot control what our neighbors do – that can make them hard to love. In the fraught and fractured times in which we live, it is even harder to name someone as “neighbor” (let alone fellow Christian) who holds views and takes actions that we consider hateful and destructive to human life. But, as the sign that has appeared on many lawns reads, “Jesus said, “Love your neighbor. No exceptions.” We may have to find God’s love for some neighbors and borrow that until we can find our own. There’s a place to start. Everything gets easier when we love our neighbors.
But the verse includes another challenge: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Ah – there’s a deeper reason we can find it hard to love our neighbors. It’s hard to love ourselves, especially if the world or family or an inner sense of shame or unworthiness tell us that’s ridiculous. But God says, “I love you, I made you, I delight in you.” Are we not to love what God loves? We may have to find God’s love for ourselves and borrow that until we can find our own. And when we love ourselves, with compassion and clarity about all that’s lovable in us and all that is not, we are better able to love our neighbors the same way.
Sigh! As my friend Peter says, “If it were easy, everyone would be doing it.” Maybe we make it harder than it has to be. Anything God calls us to, God equips us for. Maybe we can stop trying to do this loving on our own, and let God’s love flow through us - to ourselves, to our neighbors and back to God.
In this week’s gospel reading, we overhear a conversation between Jesus and a scribe who has asked him, “Which commandment is first of all?” His first reply is unsurprising; he quotes the Shema Yisrael and adds, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” Got it. Religious people know about loving God.
But then he adds half an obscure verse from the book of Leviticus, and raises it to the same status as the Shema: “The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” That was a game-changer.
This verse comes from Leviticus 19:18: You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord. Chapter 19 of Leviticus details a series of laws governing all sorts of human relationships, commercial, sexual, familial, occult – you name it. These six words barely stand out, yet Jesus elevates them to core commandment. “On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets,” he says in another gospel version of this story.
Jesus’ piercing intellect and knowledge of Scripture allowed him to strip away the thicket of words and hone in on the one commandment that enables us to keep all the others. If we could only love God with our whole being, and truly love our neighbors and ourselves, we would need no other commandments.
Why is it so hard to love our neighbors? For starters, there are too many of them. We’re overwhelmed, and so we rank and sort them by all kinds of categories – how like us or not they are; how needy or resourced they are; how much or little we approve of how they conduct themselves. As soon as we start to rank and pick and choose, love is compromised. When Jesus was asked by another scribe, “Then who is my neighbor?” he answered by telling a story in which the neighbor who cared for a person in need turned out to be someone his questioner had defined out of his neighbor list.
And we cannot control what our neighbors do – that can make them hard to love. In the fraught and fractured times in which we live, it is even harder to name someone as “neighbor” (let alone fellow Christian) who holds views and takes actions that we consider hateful and destructive to human life. But, as the sign that has appeared on many lawns reads, “Jesus said, “Love your neighbor. No exceptions.” We may have to find God’s love for some neighbors and borrow that until we can find our own. There’s a place to start. Everything gets easier when we love our neighbors.
But the verse includes another challenge: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Ah – there’s a deeper reason we can find it hard to love our neighbors. It’s hard to love ourselves, especially if the world or family or an inner sense of shame or unworthiness tell us that’s ridiculous. But God says, “I love you, I made you, I delight in you.” Are we not to love what God loves? We may have to find God’s love for ourselves and borrow that until we can find our own. And when we love ourselves, with compassion and clarity about all that’s lovable in us and all that is not, we are better able to love our neighbors the same way.
Sigh! As my friend Peter says, “If it were easy, everyone would be doing it.” Maybe we make it harder than it has to be. Anything God calls us to, God equips us for. Maybe we can stop trying to do this loving on our own, and let God’s love flow through us - to ourselves, to our neighbors and back to God.
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