You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Isn’t it amazing how people can grow up in the same family and be so different from each other? As action-oriented as Martha is, her sister Mary seems geared toward reflection and a quiet devotedness. It is Mary who sits at Jesus’ feet listening to his teaching instead of helping Martha cook; Mary who anoints Jesus’ head and feet with a whole jar of expensive ointment shortly before his arrest, an act of extravagant, wasteful worship – arguably, the way worship should always be.
Mary is the same in this story – she stays at home when she hears that Jesus has arrived. But as soon as Martha tells her that Jesus is asking for her, she goes to him: … [Martha] went back and called her sister Mary, and told her privately, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” When she heard it, she got up quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet come to the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. The Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary get up quickly and go out. They followed her, thinking that she was going to the tomb to weep there. When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”
Mary utters the same words of gentle rebuke and profound faith as Martha did. But where Martha and Jesus engaged in theological conversation about death and life and resurrection and Jesus’ identity, with Mary it is her open display of feelings that touches Jesus’ spirit. When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved.
In these two sisters we see different aspects of a spiritual whole. A healthy spiritual life makes room for emotions and intellect, receptivity and action. Most of us tend to emphasize one mode over another. How is it that you most readily experience holiness or the presence of God? In thoughts and actions? In silence and feelings? Some combination of these?
How do you most naturally express your spirituality?
Are your emotions available to you in your prayer and worship life?
Are you able to sit still on occasion and wait on the Lord, see what the Spirit is saying?
It’s good to know how we’re wired spiritually. Then we can look to see if we’re missing anything. Is God inviting us to play with a form of spiritual expression or reception that comes less naturally to us, but opens us to a new dimension of God-life? If you only ever read the bible (or this...) as a devotion, how about singing a hymn in your personal prayer time? If you only feel connected to God when serving dinner at the soup kitchen, how about going on a retreat alone, and seeing where God is in silence and inactivity.
Martha and Mary of Bethany are among the most fully drawn characters in the Gospels, and yet we know little about them. But they are a rich gift to us, these sisters, embodying different ways to love Jesus, and different modes of receiving his love.
© 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 contemplative prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contemplative prayer. Show all posts
8-7-23 - Time Apart
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Sooner or later, Jesus was going to get that “alone time” he’d been wanting. It came a day later than planned, a full day of healing, teaching and miraculously feeding thousands of people – but then he took his retreat. Once the leftovers were collected, “Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray."
Being a conduit of the power of God takes energy out of a person, even Jesus. The need to rest, recharge, reconnect with the Spirit of God is as important as the visible ministry we do, maybe more so. We can do a kind of recharging in community, especially over a meal and a celebration, but for most people, our deep spirit is best renewed in solitude.
Solitude is hard to find in our multiply-connected, always “on” world. But there’s more to it than finding alone space. Many of us live with a malaise that makes it hard to seek quiet time. Our constant input, 24-7 connectivity provides ample distraction to avoid darker feelings, disappointments, mistakes, hurts we have inflicted or received, emptiness and pain.
We all know about distracted driving; maybe we should also wrestle with distracted living, moving too fast to notice what and who is around us, rushing to the next thing that will make us feel connected, filling every moment and part of our lives so we don’t have to face the emptiness and loss inside.
What happens when you get time alone? Are you able to sit quietly with yourself, or do you read, download, check texts, emails, social media, google questions and watch funny pet videos? I’m afraid I too often do puzzles or pay bills; sitting quietly with myself or with Jesus can be a great challenge. I run back to my to-do list at the drop of a hat. The to-do list makes me feel filled and fulfilled, recognized, connected. Who wants to sit in silence before the vastness that is God?
Well, Jesus did… and he knew he needed that in order to live fully into his identity. Granted, he had a relationship with the Father; he didn’t need to forge one. But in his humanity he was as vulnerable as we are to the games of ego and gratification and regard. One way to live out of his true identity and not the false ones the world tried lure him into was to break away on his own sometimes for prayer and solitude. Same goes for us.
Do you do that every week? Every day? Might we covenant together to spend about ten minutes off the grid each day this week, sitting with the silence and stillness, uncomfortable as it might be? The only way to reset our priorities is to sit before God, still and waiting and expectant. Man, that’s hard for me! If it’s easy for you, you are blessed indeed. Share your secret with someone.
Here’s a prayer we can try: “Come, Holy Spirit. Quiet my mind, stir up my soul. Breathe your life into me and let me come into stillness. Let me hear what I need to hear, discern what I need to let go of. Renew my spirit, refresh my mind, and re-center me so that, like a record on a turntable, your song plays through me truly, without distortion, for those around me to hear.” Don't put any "shoulds" on it. Just call it “me time.” It’s really “Me and God” time, but no one needs to know that…
Sooner or later, Jesus was going to get that “alone time” he’d been wanting. It came a day later than planned, a full day of healing, teaching and miraculously feeding thousands of people – but then he took his retreat. Once the leftovers were collected, “Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray."
Being a conduit of the power of God takes energy out of a person, even Jesus. The need to rest, recharge, reconnect with the Spirit of God is as important as the visible ministry we do, maybe more so. We can do a kind of recharging in community, especially over a meal and a celebration, but for most people, our deep spirit is best renewed in solitude.
Solitude is hard to find in our multiply-connected, always “on” world. But there’s more to it than finding alone space. Many of us live with a malaise that makes it hard to seek quiet time. Our constant input, 24-7 connectivity provides ample distraction to avoid darker feelings, disappointments, mistakes, hurts we have inflicted or received, emptiness and pain.
We all know about distracted driving; maybe we should also wrestle with distracted living, moving too fast to notice what and who is around us, rushing to the next thing that will make us feel connected, filling every moment and part of our lives so we don’t have to face the emptiness and loss inside.
What happens when you get time alone? Are you able to sit quietly with yourself, or do you read, download, check texts, emails, social media, google questions and watch funny pet videos? I’m afraid I too often do puzzles or pay bills; sitting quietly with myself or with Jesus can be a great challenge. I run back to my to-do list at the drop of a hat. The to-do list makes me feel filled and fulfilled, recognized, connected. Who wants to sit in silence before the vastness that is God?
Well, Jesus did… and he knew he needed that in order to live fully into his identity. Granted, he had a relationship with the Father; he didn’t need to forge one. But in his humanity he was as vulnerable as we are to the games of ego and gratification and regard. One way to live out of his true identity and not the false ones the world tried lure him into was to break away on his own sometimes for prayer and solitude. Same goes for us.
Do you do that every week? Every day? Might we covenant together to spend about ten minutes off the grid each day this week, sitting with the silence and stillness, uncomfortable as it might be? The only way to reset our priorities is to sit before God, still and waiting and expectant. Man, that’s hard for me! If it’s easy for you, you are blessed indeed. Share your secret with someone.
Here’s a prayer we can try: “Come, Holy Spirit. Quiet my mind, stir up my soul. Breathe your life into me and let me come into stillness. Let me hear what I need to hear, discern what I need to let go of. Renew my spirit, refresh my mind, and re-center me so that, like a record on a turntable, your song plays through me truly, without distortion, for those around me to hear.” Don't put any "shoulds" on it. Just call it “me time.” It’s really “Me and God” time, but no one needs to know that…
8-3-23 - In a Cloud
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Have you ever found yourself in a cloud? Somewhere when a fog rolls in and you find yourself completely enveloped in white, your visibility of anything beyond your own form completely obscured? It is a deeply disorienting experience. Now, what if that cloud began to speak? …a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
Of course, on the mount of Transfiguration, it wasn’t the cloud speaking, it was God. But why in a cloud? Maybe the blocking of other senses allowed the disciples to focus more on the aural experience, the voice of God, and its message. And what about that message, so similar to what some heard at Jesus’ baptism, but with the added command, “Listen to him.” It was aural confirmation of visual evidence. When they were tempted to doubt, they had another form of authority on which to rest. And when they were ready to talk – perhaps after Jesus’ resurrection? – these three witnesses had quite a story to tell.
How does God get our attention? We can be so enveloped in activities and media and dashing here and there, responding to so many messages, it can be hard for the voice of God to get through. Perhaps we should choose to put ourselves in a cloud periodically, to dramatically reduce the stimuli, simplify the order of the day. One might say that is what the practice of centering prayer achieves – entering a cloud of soft quiet, where we see little and hear only silence.
That is also what happens on retreat, whether for a few hours or a few days: we slip into a simpler rhythm of meals, rest, walks, study, prayer, with fewer choices to make. And as we give ourselves to the simplicity and the silence, eventually God’s voice begins to get through.
One of the great classics of Christian spirituality is a 14th century book called The Cloud of Unknowing (the link is to an edition I like very much), whose author suggests that God is to be found not in knowledge and evidence so much as in absence and mystery. It’s not the way we usually think of seeking God in our take-charge, work-for-what-you-want culture. But that medieval mystic was on to something.
Perhaps that’s what God was doing with that cloud, reminding us that the deepest knowledge comes from what we cannot see or figure out for ourselves. The deepest Truth can only come from God, who speaks in a sound of sheer silence.
Have you ever found yourself in a cloud? Somewhere when a fog rolls in and you find yourself completely enveloped in white, your visibility of anything beyond your own form completely obscured? It is a deeply disorienting experience. Now, what if that cloud began to speak? …a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
Of course, on the mount of Transfiguration, it wasn’t the cloud speaking, it was God. But why in a cloud? Maybe the blocking of other senses allowed the disciples to focus more on the aural experience, the voice of God, and its message. And what about that message, so similar to what some heard at Jesus’ baptism, but with the added command, “Listen to him.” It was aural confirmation of visual evidence. When they were tempted to doubt, they had another form of authority on which to rest. And when they were ready to talk – perhaps after Jesus’ resurrection? – these three witnesses had quite a story to tell.
How does God get our attention? We can be so enveloped in activities and media and dashing here and there, responding to so many messages, it can be hard for the voice of God to get through. Perhaps we should choose to put ourselves in a cloud periodically, to dramatically reduce the stimuli, simplify the order of the day. One might say that is what the practice of centering prayer achieves – entering a cloud of soft quiet, where we see little and hear only silence.
That is also what happens on retreat, whether for a few hours or a few days: we slip into a simpler rhythm of meals, rest, walks, study, prayer, with fewer choices to make. And as we give ourselves to the simplicity and the silence, eventually God’s voice begins to get through.
One of the great classics of Christian spirituality is a 14th century book called The Cloud of Unknowing (the link is to an edition I like very much), whose author suggests that God is to be found not in knowledge and evidence so much as in absence and mystery. It’s not the way we usually think of seeking God in our take-charge, work-for-what-you-want culture. But that medieval mystic was on to something.
Perhaps that’s what God was doing with that cloud, reminding us that the deepest knowledge comes from what we cannot see or figure out for ourselves. The deepest Truth can only come from God, who speaks in a sound of sheer silence.
7-12-22 - Deep Listening
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I aspire to be a good listener – it doesn’t come naturally, as so often I have something I want to say. (Five days a week, even!) Listening well is an attribute demonstrated by Mary of Bethany, when Jesus comes to visit the house:
I aspire to be a good listener – it doesn’t come naturally, as so often I have something I want to say. (Five days a week, even!) Listening well is an attribute demonstrated by Mary of Bethany, when Jesus comes to visit the house:
Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying.
We often think of prayer as what we have to say to God, pouring out our gratitude and grumbles, our hopes and regrets. But saints and mystics throughout the centuries have pointed to Mary’s posture as the beginning of true prayer, sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to what he says.
There are a number of ways we can do that. One is by reading and chewing on his words and actions as we find them in Scripture. Taking a small chunk of Jesus’ teaching, or reading, re-reading and putting ourselves into a gospel story about him is a way we can settle our spirits and start to truly hear from him. Talking to someone else about where we're experiencing God's activity and love, and hearing their stories is another way we listen to Jesus.
And we can learn to listen in prayer. Some do that through cultivating meditation techniques like centering prayer, learning to still the chattering mind and come into a place of deep, unspoken communion with God, in which occasionally we receive words or encouragement. Those of us who’s chattering rarely ebbs are hard pressed to truly quiet our minds. But we can open our imaginations to the Spirit, inviting God to make himself known through places or scenes that unfold in our mind’s eye.
For a time in my life, there was a rocky beach in Greece where I met Jesus in prayer in my imagination and shared conversation. That was followed by a musty old English church, a chalet kind of house in the mountains, and most recently a forest glade by a pond. Go figure. I didn’t choose these “mediating” spots, as I call them. They unfolded in my mind as I prayed, and I just went with them, asking where Jesus was. Right now there is no place, just sometimes words coming to mind as I pray, that I believe come from Jesus.
Our minds might not easily become still, but we can bring our bodies into stillness by setting aside time in our day or week, and even a place in our home or office where we settle in to listen to Jesus. I’m sure he doesn’t mind when we talk – our loving God wants to hear from her children. Yet we will find our spirits expand as we learn to follow the way of Mary, and let ourselves listen deeply to that still small voice of God which is amplified in our silences.
We often think of prayer as what we have to say to God, pouring out our gratitude and grumbles, our hopes and regrets. But saints and mystics throughout the centuries have pointed to Mary’s posture as the beginning of true prayer, sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to what he says.
There are a number of ways we can do that. One is by reading and chewing on his words and actions as we find them in Scripture. Taking a small chunk of Jesus’ teaching, or reading, re-reading and putting ourselves into a gospel story about him is a way we can settle our spirits and start to truly hear from him. Talking to someone else about where we're experiencing God's activity and love, and hearing their stories is another way we listen to Jesus.
And we can learn to listen in prayer. Some do that through cultivating meditation techniques like centering prayer, learning to still the chattering mind and come into a place of deep, unspoken communion with God, in which occasionally we receive words or encouragement. Those of us who’s chattering rarely ebbs are hard pressed to truly quiet our minds. But we can open our imaginations to the Spirit, inviting God to make himself known through places or scenes that unfold in our mind’s eye.
For a time in my life, there was a rocky beach in Greece where I met Jesus in prayer in my imagination and shared conversation. That was followed by a musty old English church, a chalet kind of house in the mountains, and most recently a forest glade by a pond. Go figure. I didn’t choose these “mediating” spots, as I call them. They unfolded in my mind as I prayed, and I just went with them, asking where Jesus was. Right now there is no place, just sometimes words coming to mind as I pray, that I believe come from Jesus.
Our minds might not easily become still, but we can bring our bodies into stillness by setting aside time in our day or week, and even a place in our home or office where we settle in to listen to Jesus. I’m sure he doesn’t mind when we talk – our loving God wants to hear from her children. Yet we will find our spirits expand as we learn to follow the way of Mary, and let ourselves listen deeply to that still small voice of God which is amplified in our silences.
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