You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As Jesus talks with Nicodemus, he stresses the importance of the spiritual view. Then, almost as an aside, he says something puzzling: “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
Jesus is alluding to a story recorded in Numbers 21:4-9, about a time when God sent a plague of serpents to punish the Israelites for bellyaching on their journey to freedom: They traveled from Mount Hor along the route to the Red Sea, to go around Edom. But the people grew impatient on the way; they spoke against God and against Moses, and said, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread! There is no water! And we detest this miserable food!” Then the Lord sent venomous snakes among them; they bit the people and many Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, “We sinned when we spoke against the Lord and against you. Pray that the Lord will take the snakes away from us.” So Moses prayed for the people. The Lord said to Moses, “Make a snake and put it up on a pole; anyone who is bitten can look at it and live.” So Moses made a bronze snake and put it up on a pole. Then when anyone was bitten by a snake and looked at the bronze snake, they lived.
Putting aside our alarm at the idea of God having a murderous hissy fit in response to incessant whining, let’s focus on the remedy God proposes: To bring about healing by inviting the afflicted to contemplate a symbol of their disease. This story is one source of the universal symbol of medicine, serpents entwined on a staff. And we see here a principle often found in medicine – that healing can come from the very source of disease, as with vaccines and homeopathic remedies.
By linking this image to his own impending suffering on the cross, Jesus (or John?) suggests that the remedy for sin can be attained by reflecting upon the very image of sin, a punished, crucified man. As Paul wrote, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (II Corinthians 5:21)
A central theme of John’s Gospel is that Jesus’ glory was supremely revealed on the Cross – there was the Sign of Signs that God was doing a new thing. The Cross is central to all four Gospels, but only John sees it as a place of glorification. So let’s go with him for today. Our sacred story tells us that Jesus took upon himself the sin of the whole world as he died, crucified and forsaken. Can we see in that scene of torture any redemption and release for ourselves? Healing from the sin-sickness that can pervade our souls?
Is there an area of sin in your life you would like to see die with Jesus on the cross? As you pray today, can you imagine that aspect of your life, whether an event or a proclivity, actually being eliminated, so you can be free of it? Our promise is that God has already forgiven us – the Cross covered the future as well as the past.
In John 12:32 Jesus is quoted, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” We don’t have to contemplate a bruised and bloodied Jesus in order to be forgiven. We can draw near to the throne of grace because of what Jesus took on for us – and because now that cross is empty. We can honor him best by accepting his gift and walking in the forgiveness and wholeness he won for us.
© 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 forgiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts
12-4-25 - When Love Comes To Town
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
John the Baptizer was scathing toward “good people” who wear their religion on their sleeves but leave their hearts and behaviors untouched. Where would he place us? Need we fear God's judgment? Our culture says so; even Santa Claus, the legend most associated with gift-giving, is depicted as being the most judgmental:
He’s making a list, he’s checking it twice / Gonna find out who’s naughty or nice / Santa Claus is coming to town.
“Good” people can do bad things; can “bad” people do good? Is there such thing as a good or a bad person? Jesus once said that a good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor a bad tree good fruit. Judgment seems based on the fruit our lives bear.
John the Baptizer was making his audience aware of that judgment… and he wasn’t gentle: “Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
I give thanks for the promise that, as members of God’s household united with Christ, it is his deeds by which we will ultimately be judged (whew!). Yet Jesus also spoke of a judgment and a sorting. So let’s do another inventory today – let’s look at the fruit we bear, the outward evidence of our life, the good and not-so-good. (Get out the journal...)
John the Baptizer was scathing toward “good people” who wear their religion on their sleeves but leave their hearts and behaviors untouched. Where would he place us? Need we fear God's judgment? Our culture says so; even Santa Claus, the legend most associated with gift-giving, is depicted as being the most judgmental:
He’s making a list, he’s checking it twice / Gonna find out who’s naughty or nice / Santa Claus is coming to town.
“Good” people can do bad things; can “bad” people do good? Is there such thing as a good or a bad person? Jesus once said that a good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor a bad tree good fruit. Judgment seems based on the fruit our lives bear.
John the Baptizer was making his audience aware of that judgment… and he wasn’t gentle: “Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
I give thanks for the promise that, as members of God’s household united with Christ, it is his deeds by which we will ultimately be judged (whew!). Yet Jesus also spoke of a judgment and a sorting. So let’s do another inventory today – let’s look at the fruit we bear, the outward evidence of our life, the good and not-so-good. (Get out the journal...)
- What is the fruit of your relationships? Name some.
- What is the fruit of your work life? Name some.
- Your recreational life? Your financial life?
- Your engagement in activities that help people in need?
- What is the fruit of your spiritual life – what are the outward manifestations of your faith and prayer?
Are you a healthy tree, emotionally, physically, spiritually? Is any pruning or fertilizing needed? How might you become more fruitful?
Whether we’re singing, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” or “When the Man Comes Around,” a Johnny Cash song based on Revelation with strong Advent themes (and not a whole lot of grace), I thank God for the greatest gift – freedom from the ax and the fire. God is an arborist extraordinaire, who tends the trees we are and makes us trees of love. In fact, today let's give Bono and B.B. King the last word - they say it all in "When Love Comes to Town."
© 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.
Whether we’re singing, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” or “When the Man Comes Around,” a Johnny Cash song based on Revelation with strong Advent themes (and not a whole lot of grace), I thank God for the greatest gift – freedom from the ax and the fire. God is an arborist extraordinaire, who tends the trees we are and makes us trees of love. In fact, today let's give Bono and B.B. King the last word - they say it all in "When Love Comes to Town."
© 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.
11-19-25 - Paradise When?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Popular culture tells us that, at the moment of our death, we will “cross over” to our eternal dwelling, where we are welcomed by those we have loved in this world. Bible interpreters might take a more sober view, citing many prophetic texts about the “Day of the Lord.” “Day of the Lord.” And then there are Jesus’ own references to the great sorting at the final judgment, and Paul’s eloquent depiction of the sleeping dead rising “in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.” (I Cor. 15:52; No, it’s not the zombi-pocalypse... it's resurrection.)
This interpretation suggests that at death we go into rest like the “sleep mode” on our computers, to be reactivated when “the trumpet shall sound.” And here is Jesus, confusing us all with this promise to the repentant thief dying next to him on the cross: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”
It is a bit surreal, this recorded conversation among three men dying a ghastly, torturous death: One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" But the other rebuked him, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
Some years ago I heard Charlie Grady, who runs anti-violence initiatives in inner cities, speak. He spent 27 years in law enforcement, during which he arrested some pretty dangerous criminals. One evening he was in a restaurant, and saw two men he’d sent to jail come in. Soon enough they spotted him and clearly recognized him. He began to sweat. Then the waiter approached and said, “Those guys would like to buy your table a round of drinks.” He accepted, and then raised his glass to them. At that point they came over and said, “We know you were just doing your job. We were the ones doing wrong – it was your job to catch us and put us away. We know that now; we’re not the same people.”
That’s pretty much where this thief is. Hanging there next to a man he knows to be good and holy gives him a true perspective on himself. And when we see ourselves clearly, we start to see a lot of things more clearly. That is the beginning of repentance – clear vision. It’s not everyone else’s fault, even if some have contributed. It’s us. And when we speak from that truth, we create space for grace.
Even on the cross, Jesus is able to extend that grace to a fellow-sufferer. “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” At the end of this day, all three of them will be dead. They will no longer dwell in this world. In the face of that, in brutal pain, Jesus promises not only paradise, but his own presence. What a promise.
Do you have a confession to make, or one to hear? Has anyone been trying to get your attention and let you know they have had a change of heart, they truly are sorry – and maybe you haven’t been able to give them a chance to show it? A risk, yes, but your forgiveness is a big gift to grant or withhold. As recipients of grace, can we extend it?
One day we will be with Jesus in whatever realm it is that we call Paradise. Whether that is at the moment of death, or at some other time in a realm that is timeless, we will know we are with him. As Gillian Welch sings, “I will know my savior when I come to him by the mark where the nails have been.”
© 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.
Popular culture tells us that, at the moment of our death, we will “cross over” to our eternal dwelling, where we are welcomed by those we have loved in this world. Bible interpreters might take a more sober view, citing many prophetic texts about the “Day of the Lord.” “Day of the Lord.” And then there are Jesus’ own references to the great sorting at the final judgment, and Paul’s eloquent depiction of the sleeping dead rising “in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.” (I Cor. 15:52; No, it’s not the zombi-pocalypse... it's resurrection.)
This interpretation suggests that at death we go into rest like the “sleep mode” on our computers, to be reactivated when “the trumpet shall sound.” And here is Jesus, confusing us all with this promise to the repentant thief dying next to him on the cross: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”
It is a bit surreal, this recorded conversation among three men dying a ghastly, torturous death: One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" But the other rebuked him, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
Some years ago I heard Charlie Grady, who runs anti-violence initiatives in inner cities, speak. He spent 27 years in law enforcement, during which he arrested some pretty dangerous criminals. One evening he was in a restaurant, and saw two men he’d sent to jail come in. Soon enough they spotted him and clearly recognized him. He began to sweat. Then the waiter approached and said, “Those guys would like to buy your table a round of drinks.” He accepted, and then raised his glass to them. At that point they came over and said, “We know you were just doing your job. We were the ones doing wrong – it was your job to catch us and put us away. We know that now; we’re not the same people.”
That’s pretty much where this thief is. Hanging there next to a man he knows to be good and holy gives him a true perspective on himself. And when we see ourselves clearly, we start to see a lot of things more clearly. That is the beginning of repentance – clear vision. It’s not everyone else’s fault, even if some have contributed. It’s us. And when we speak from that truth, we create space for grace.
Even on the cross, Jesus is able to extend that grace to a fellow-sufferer. “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” At the end of this day, all three of them will be dead. They will no longer dwell in this world. In the face of that, in brutal pain, Jesus promises not only paradise, but his own presence. What a promise.
Do you have a confession to make, or one to hear? Has anyone been trying to get your attention and let you know they have had a change of heart, they truly are sorry – and maybe you haven’t been able to give them a chance to show it? A risk, yes, but your forgiveness is a big gift to grant or withhold. As recipients of grace, can we extend it?
One day we will be with Jesus in whatever realm it is that we call Paradise. Whether that is at the moment of death, or at some other time in a realm that is timeless, we will know we are with him. As Gillian Welch sings, “I will know my savior when I come to him by the mark where the nails have been.”
© 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.
11-17-25 - Father, Forgive Them...
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Next Sunday we celebrate Christ as King before we re-set the church clock and go back to the beginning of the story in Advent. In Canada this Sunday is labeled “The Reign of Christ,” which is less male and monarchical. But whatever we call it, the readings appointed for this last Sunday in the Pentecost season always show Jesus at his most humble, as befits one who said his kingdom was not of this world. This week's gospel shows him humiliated and degraded, dying a brutal death on a cross. It is an image we associate with Holy Week, not the week before American Thanksgiving. Yet, as the bitter divisions in our world become ever deeper, it fits all too well.
When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”
In our conflicted times, we need to get into the forgiveness business seriously and often. It is not easy; it means forgiving people who may not be sorry or care about the damage they do. When we reach across barriers of difference, we will have to ask whether we are forgiving prematurely, and risk being seen as condoning the unacceptable. Forgiveness is costly.
Are people who sow violence and division covered by Jesus’ prayer, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do?” How on earth do we forgive willful cruelty? We start by drawing on the power of Christ available to us. It's hard to associate power with the image of a naked, beaten, helpless man nailed to a cross. Yet that is exactly what Christian belief invites us to do, to see beneath the outward image to the spiritual reality. And that reality Jesus demonstrated in a gesture of incomprehensible generosity: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing."
He recognized that the Jewish leaders seeking his death and the Roman leaders carrying out the unjust sentence were so caught up in systems of human control, they couldn’t see the larger picture or their own complicity. Having the power to forgive the unforgivable will require us to step out of our human systems as well, even if our intent is to bring justice. How are we also complicit in degrading the "Other?"
Each gospel writer stresses in the story of Jesus’ crucifixion those elements he thinks matter most. Luke, champion of the poor and outcast, who so often highlights Jesus’ compassion, puts this act of forgiveness on the cross front and center. This is the kind of kingship we are to follow – forgiveness for the unforgivable, even at the point of death.
I don’t want to have to practice this, but this world keeps giving me opportunities. Maybe I’ll get better at it.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Next Sunday we celebrate Christ as King before we re-set the church clock and go back to the beginning of the story in Advent. In Canada this Sunday is labeled “The Reign of Christ,” which is less male and monarchical. But whatever we call it, the readings appointed for this last Sunday in the Pentecost season always show Jesus at his most humble, as befits one who said his kingdom was not of this world. This week's gospel shows him humiliated and degraded, dying a brutal death on a cross. It is an image we associate with Holy Week, not the week before American Thanksgiving. Yet, as the bitter divisions in our world become ever deeper, it fits all too well.
When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”
In our conflicted times, we need to get into the forgiveness business seriously and often. It is not easy; it means forgiving people who may not be sorry or care about the damage they do. When we reach across barriers of difference, we will have to ask whether we are forgiving prematurely, and risk being seen as condoning the unacceptable. Forgiveness is costly.
Are people who sow violence and division covered by Jesus’ prayer, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do?” How on earth do we forgive willful cruelty? We start by drawing on the power of Christ available to us. It's hard to associate power with the image of a naked, beaten, helpless man nailed to a cross. Yet that is exactly what Christian belief invites us to do, to see beneath the outward image to the spiritual reality. And that reality Jesus demonstrated in a gesture of incomprehensible generosity: “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing."
He recognized that the Jewish leaders seeking his death and the Roman leaders carrying out the unjust sentence were so caught up in systems of human control, they couldn’t see the larger picture or their own complicity. Having the power to forgive the unforgivable will require us to step out of our human systems as well, even if our intent is to bring justice. How are we also complicit in degrading the "Other?"
Each gospel writer stresses in the story of Jesus’ crucifixion those elements he thinks matter most. Luke, champion of the poor and outcast, who so often highlights Jesus’ compassion, puts this act of forgiveness on the cross front and center. This is the kind of kingship we are to follow – forgiveness for the unforgivable, even at the point of death.
I don’t want to have to practice this, but this world keeps giving me opportunities. Maybe I’ll get better at it.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
9-12-25 - The Impact of Found Sheep
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's epistle reading is here.
This week we’ve explored two of Jesus’ short parables about things lost and found, each one with the message, “So there is rejoicing over one sinner who repents.” In the reading from the New Testament appointed for Sunday, we hear from one of those sinners, Paul, writing to his colleague Timothy about his experience of having been found:
“I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has strengthened me, because he judged me faithful and appointed me to his service, even though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost.”
Paul, as we know from the Book of Acts, was Jewish, a Pharisee – and so outraged by the blasphemy of Christian claims that Jesus was divine and rose from the dead that he became the foremost persecutor of this Jesus movement, trying to stamp it out, violently if necessary. He held the cloaks of those who stoned the deacon Stephen to death. He was on his way to Damascus to arrest Christ-followers when he had an experience of Jesus speaking to him that changed the course of his life – and of human history. Though viewed with suspicion by those he had persecuted, he was baptized into Christian faith and gradually accepted, going on to evangelize Greek and Roman-held lands and articulate in his letters the theology that has shaped Christian understanding, especially the truth that we are saved by Jesus' works of love, not by our own “goodness.”
No one would have called Paul (then Saul) a “lost sheep.” As a Pharisee he was known for his holiness and fidelity to the Law. But he, who called others blasphemous, came to see that he was the blasphemer, having ignored all the signs that Jesus was who he said he was, the risen Son of God, redeemer of the world. Paul came to believe he was foremost among sinners and had gone far astray – and that he’d been found and rescued by the Great Shepherd himself, for a purpose: “But for that very reason I received mercy, so that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display the utmost patience, making me an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life.”
Lest we ever think it a waste of time to seek those who have strayed far from God’s will, or even those who just have no interest, we have the example of Paul who went from legalistic, self-righteous religious leader to foremost articulator of the grace of God that Jesus describes in his "lost and found" stories. Not even Paul, who was persecuting Jesus’ beloved community, was too lost for the Shepherd to seek out – he reached from beyond the grave to get Paul. No one is beyond the reach of God's love, no one.
Who might we seek, who could end up having a huge impact for good? Who is hovering on the edges of our lives, our churches, our communities, who needs to be welcomed in? What parts of ourselves are yet unclaimed by the grace of God, that still operate out of a code of condemnation?
We have received mercy, we found sheep and found coins. To whom will we extend it?
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
This week we’ve explored two of Jesus’ short parables about things lost and found, each one with the message, “So there is rejoicing over one sinner who repents.” In the reading from the New Testament appointed for Sunday, we hear from one of those sinners, Paul, writing to his colleague Timothy about his experience of having been found:
“I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has strengthened me, because he judged me faithful and appointed me to his service, even though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost.”
Paul, as we know from the Book of Acts, was Jewish, a Pharisee – and so outraged by the blasphemy of Christian claims that Jesus was divine and rose from the dead that he became the foremost persecutor of this Jesus movement, trying to stamp it out, violently if necessary. He held the cloaks of those who stoned the deacon Stephen to death. He was on his way to Damascus to arrest Christ-followers when he had an experience of Jesus speaking to him that changed the course of his life – and of human history. Though viewed with suspicion by those he had persecuted, he was baptized into Christian faith and gradually accepted, going on to evangelize Greek and Roman-held lands and articulate in his letters the theology that has shaped Christian understanding, especially the truth that we are saved by Jesus' works of love, not by our own “goodness.”
No one would have called Paul (then Saul) a “lost sheep.” As a Pharisee he was known for his holiness and fidelity to the Law. But he, who called others blasphemous, came to see that he was the blasphemer, having ignored all the signs that Jesus was who he said he was, the risen Son of God, redeemer of the world. Paul came to believe he was foremost among sinners and had gone far astray – and that he’d been found and rescued by the Great Shepherd himself, for a purpose: “But for that very reason I received mercy, so that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display the utmost patience, making me an example to those who would come to believe in him for eternal life.”
Lest we ever think it a waste of time to seek those who have strayed far from God’s will, or even those who just have no interest, we have the example of Paul who went from legalistic, self-righteous religious leader to foremost articulator of the grace of God that Jesus describes in his "lost and found" stories. Not even Paul, who was persecuting Jesus’ beloved community, was too lost for the Shepherd to seek out – he reached from beyond the grave to get Paul. No one is beyond the reach of God's love, no one.
Who might we seek, who could end up having a huge impact for good? Who is hovering on the edges of our lives, our churches, our communities, who needs to be welcomed in? What parts of ourselves are yet unclaimed by the grace of God, that still operate out of a code of condemnation?
We have received mercy, we found sheep and found coins. To whom will we extend it?
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
9-11-25 - Rejoicing With the Forgiven
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
How do you feel when people get away with stuff? What if they say they’re sorry? This week, we’ve looked at stories of the lost being found, and at each finding Jesus says, “So there is rejoicing over one sinner who repents.”
But do we rejoice when someone is forgiven for something awful? Not always. The media is full of stories of people who feel cheated of “justice” if a case goes against them, or if someone is publicly forgiven, as when Pope John Paul II forgave his would-be assassin.
Forgiveness doesn’t come naturally, especially if we're used to a system of blaming and judging. To forgive means to “give for,” to give to another what they owe us, what they already took. When we forgive, we release the debt owed us. In a sense, we pay twice, once when something was taken, and again when we restore it ourselves. Forgiveness is costly. Imagine forgiving the perpetrators of 9-11, which we commemorate today.
Jesus says: Look how lavish with his love God is. Though we wander off to things we believe will give us pleasure or security or power or control, God greets us when we return, even before we get there, as Jesus tells in the parable immediately following these two. God extends us grace over and over and over again. To some, this makes God look like a chump, someone taken advantage of. But no; God gives with eyes wide open, and will give again.
I don’t know if the Pharisees got the point of Jesus’ stories. When you’re wired to earn your way, it can be hard to take in the message of overwhelming love. Some years ago, in prayer, I sensed God say to me: “I already love you the most. There is nothing you have to do, or can do, to make me love you more – I already love you the most, with the love that fills the universe and beyond.”
It’s taking me time to live into that love, and to extend it to others. Thankfully, I have a lifetime to learn to absorb it, trust it, let it make me whole. A lifetime, and eternity beyond that. You too.
God gives with a heart wide open, offering us forgiveness, love and grace, unearned and unearnable, unmeasured and immeasurable. Can we say, "Yes" today, and rejoice that others are forgiven too, even those we consider unforgivable? God doesn’t…
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
How do you feel when people get away with stuff? What if they say they’re sorry? This week, we’ve looked at stories of the lost being found, and at each finding Jesus says, “So there is rejoicing over one sinner who repents.”
But do we rejoice when someone is forgiven for something awful? Not always. The media is full of stories of people who feel cheated of “justice” if a case goes against them, or if someone is publicly forgiven, as when Pope John Paul II forgave his would-be assassin.
Forgiveness doesn’t come naturally, especially if we're used to a system of blaming and judging. To forgive means to “give for,” to give to another what they owe us, what they already took. When we forgive, we release the debt owed us. In a sense, we pay twice, once when something was taken, and again when we restore it ourselves. Forgiveness is costly. Imagine forgiving the perpetrators of 9-11, which we commemorate today.
Jesus says: Look how lavish with his love God is. Though we wander off to things we believe will give us pleasure or security or power or control, God greets us when we return, even before we get there, as Jesus tells in the parable immediately following these two. God extends us grace over and over and over again. To some, this makes God look like a chump, someone taken advantage of. But no; God gives with eyes wide open, and will give again.
I don’t know if the Pharisees got the point of Jesus’ stories. When you’re wired to earn your way, it can be hard to take in the message of overwhelming love. Some years ago, in prayer, I sensed God say to me: “I already love you the most. There is nothing you have to do, or can do, to make me love you more – I already love you the most, with the love that fills the universe and beyond.”
It’s taking me time to live into that love, and to extend it to others. Thankfully, I have a lifetime to learn to absorb it, trust it, let it make me whole. A lifetime, and eternity beyond that. You too.
God gives with a heart wide open, offering us forgiveness, love and grace, unearned and unearnable, unmeasured and immeasurable. Can we say, "Yes" today, and rejoice that others are forgiven too, even those we consider unforgivable? God doesn’t…
© 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.
9-10-25 - Olly Olly Oxen Free
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Sometimes we need to hear something more than once – so Jesus told those Pharisees another parable about losing and finding, repenting and rejoicing: “Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it?”
Interpreting parables can be like interpreting dreams – you might be any or all of the characters. Who do you relate to today – the coin, or the woman? (Or the lamp, broom or house...) The way I see it at this moment, the woman is God (yep, more than once Jesus assigns God the woman’s role…) and the coins are us. Imagine: God values us so much, she will search high and low for us whenever we roll under the bed or into a dark corner. God turns on the light of truth, gets out the broom of forgiveness, sweeps the dust away from us – and keeps looking till we’re found.
Now, in both Jesus’ stories, the sheep and the coin are passive. They get lost and have to be found. As people made in God’s image, we have some choice. Yet, when we fall into self-oriented and self-destructive patterns, our freedom to choose can become compromised. We need to be found. Often what elicits repentance in us is realizing we are so precious that someone bothers to seek and find us. Guilt doesn’t do the job nearly as well as love does.
Repentance is a choice we can make every day, saying to that heavenly Seeker, “Okay, here I am, under the dresser again…” And then we join all the others who’ve been found, rejoicing when each one comes back. “When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, `Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.' Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”
Okay, so now who are you: the coin, the seeker, a friend or neighbor rejoicing? All of the above?
Today we might spend some time in repentance: where are some places you’ve rolled that are out of the light? What parts of your life have become dusty and cluttered? Here comes the light and the broom…
Imagine being a coin that is found, picked up, turned over in the palm of the finder, smiled at, cherished – and maybe put in a pocket with a bunch of other found coins. What a great jingle-jangle we make when we’re put together, we found coins! How much more valuable we are together than apart.
Sometimes we think we can hide from God; if we’re not looking for God, God will leave us alone. Jesus says nope, God never rests while we are apart. God seeks us, finds us, invites us home. Remember that phrase kids call out in hide-n-seek, indicating it is safe to come out of hiding, “Olly, olly, oxen free?” Some say its root is: “O ye, o ye, in come free.” Do you hear God calling you home?
© 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.
Interpreting parables can be like interpreting dreams – you might be any or all of the characters. Who do you relate to today – the coin, or the woman? (Or the lamp, broom or house...) The way I see it at this moment, the woman is God (yep, more than once Jesus assigns God the woman’s role…) and the coins are us. Imagine: God values us so much, she will search high and low for us whenever we roll under the bed or into a dark corner. God turns on the light of truth, gets out the broom of forgiveness, sweeps the dust away from us – and keeps looking till we’re found.
Now, in both Jesus’ stories, the sheep and the coin are passive. They get lost and have to be found. As people made in God’s image, we have some choice. Yet, when we fall into self-oriented and self-destructive patterns, our freedom to choose can become compromised. We need to be found. Often what elicits repentance in us is realizing we are so precious that someone bothers to seek and find us. Guilt doesn’t do the job nearly as well as love does.
Repentance is a choice we can make every day, saying to that heavenly Seeker, “Okay, here I am, under the dresser again…” And then we join all the others who’ve been found, rejoicing when each one comes back. “When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, `Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.' Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”
Okay, so now who are you: the coin, the seeker, a friend or neighbor rejoicing? All of the above?
Today we might spend some time in repentance: where are some places you’ve rolled that are out of the light? What parts of your life have become dusty and cluttered? Here comes the light and the broom…
Imagine being a coin that is found, picked up, turned over in the palm of the finder, smiled at, cherished – and maybe put in a pocket with a bunch of other found coins. What a great jingle-jangle we make when we’re put together, we found coins! How much more valuable we are together than apart.
Sometimes we think we can hide from God; if we’re not looking for God, God will leave us alone. Jesus says nope, God never rests while we are apart. God seeks us, finds us, invites us home. Remember that phrase kids call out in hide-n-seek, indicating it is safe to come out of hiding, “Olly, olly, oxen free?” Some say its root is: “O ye, o ye, in come free.” Do you hear God calling you home?
© 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.
9-9-25 - The Other One Percent
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Jesus’ parables are sneaky. They lead you one way, and then, bam!, swerve somewhere that contradicts common sense and practice. "Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?” At first glance, you think, “Yeah! I’d go after that poor, lost little sheep…” On second thought... would you really leave 99 valuable livestock unprotected and search for one?
Maybe so, Jesus suggests. Remember, he’s answering the question, “Why do you eat with sinners?” Lurking beneath that question is: “Shouldn’t you hang out with the righteous folks, like us?”
Jesus said that his time in this earthly life was to be spent seeking and saving the lost (Luke 19:10) The “ninety-nine” can look after each other. Someone has to look for the wanderers, the explorers of steeper paths, the ones who chased greener pastures only to look up and find themselves alone in the deep, dark woods. Presumably, the "right-living" sheep already make heaven pretty happy. The recovery of the lost sheep is cause for special rejoicing.
It is a principle of church growth that you program for the folks who are not there more than for ones who are. I once heard a bishop say that – and a church-goer took issue with it – “What about us? Don’t we count?” This is the cry of the ninety-nine.
In the “both/and” realm of God, it doesn’t have to be a choice – yet Jesus does make clear where his followers are to put our energy. Do we have enough “bandwidth” to care for one another AND to follow Jesus out to the ravines and scary places where lost sheep are apt to be found, those who do not know the love of the Good Shepherd, who may even feel pretty unlovable? I think we do – especially if we enhance our capacity with the infinite power and love of the Spirit.
Here are some prompts for prayer and reflection today:
List everything you do to nurture your own church community – activities, funds, prayer. Do you hear the sound of rejoicing in heaven? You’re giving a huge gift.
Now list the ways you reach out to the people who might be “outliers” – not so much funding and feeding, but how you personally interact with people outside your circle. Our goal might be to aim for balance, maybe even tipping a little more toward the outlier sheep.
Who comes to mind when you think of “lost sheep” in your life or community? God may send you to someone in particular… give it a moment and see who comes up. If you get a name or face, stay with it. Ask God to bless that person, and to show you where and how you might come close to them.
A Water Daily reader shared with me this week about the way an Episcopal priest in her niece's town brought church to an "unchurched" branch of the family. She got to know the priest as they coached soccer together, and as he learned that her father was on hospice care, he offered to come to the house and do Prayers at the Time of Dying. He ended up doing that, and baptizing five young children in the family and celebrating communion with them all on the front porch. He went out to the 99 and found some sheep in need of reclaiming.
Our goal is not to invite people to church, or to “get them help.” Our goal is to go and be with, offering a relationship that is mutual (we all have “lost” parts in ourselves…) – and invite the Shepherd himself to lead him or her back into wholeness. If you remember a time when you were lost and someone found you, you know how it works. There was a LOT of rejoicing.
© 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.
Jesus’ parables are sneaky. They lead you one way, and then, bam!, swerve somewhere that contradicts common sense and practice. "Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?” At first glance, you think, “Yeah! I’d go after that poor, lost little sheep…” On second thought... would you really leave 99 valuable livestock unprotected and search for one?
Maybe so, Jesus suggests. Remember, he’s answering the question, “Why do you eat with sinners?” Lurking beneath that question is: “Shouldn’t you hang out with the righteous folks, like us?”
Jesus said that his time in this earthly life was to be spent seeking and saving the lost (Luke 19:10) The “ninety-nine” can look after each other. Someone has to look for the wanderers, the explorers of steeper paths, the ones who chased greener pastures only to look up and find themselves alone in the deep, dark woods. Presumably, the "right-living" sheep already make heaven pretty happy. The recovery of the lost sheep is cause for special rejoicing.
It is a principle of church growth that you program for the folks who are not there more than for ones who are. I once heard a bishop say that – and a church-goer took issue with it – “What about us? Don’t we count?” This is the cry of the ninety-nine.
In the “both/and” realm of God, it doesn’t have to be a choice – yet Jesus does make clear where his followers are to put our energy. Do we have enough “bandwidth” to care for one another AND to follow Jesus out to the ravines and scary places where lost sheep are apt to be found, those who do not know the love of the Good Shepherd, who may even feel pretty unlovable? I think we do – especially if we enhance our capacity with the infinite power and love of the Spirit.
Here are some prompts for prayer and reflection today:
List everything you do to nurture your own church community – activities, funds, prayer. Do you hear the sound of rejoicing in heaven? You’re giving a huge gift.
Now list the ways you reach out to the people who might be “outliers” – not so much funding and feeding, but how you personally interact with people outside your circle. Our goal might be to aim for balance, maybe even tipping a little more toward the outlier sheep.
Who comes to mind when you think of “lost sheep” in your life or community? God may send you to someone in particular… give it a moment and see who comes up. If you get a name or face, stay with it. Ask God to bless that person, and to show you where and how you might come close to them.
A Water Daily reader shared with me this week about the way an Episcopal priest in her niece's town brought church to an "unchurched" branch of the family. She got to know the priest as they coached soccer together, and as he learned that her father was on hospice care, he offered to come to the house and do Prayers at the Time of Dying. He ended up doing that, and baptizing five young children in the family and celebrating communion with them all on the front porch. He went out to the 99 and found some sheep in need of reclaiming.
Our goal is not to invite people to church, or to “get them help.” Our goal is to go and be with, offering a relationship that is mutual (we all have “lost” parts in ourselves…) – and invite the Shepherd himself to lead him or her back into wholeness. If you remember a time when you were lost and someone found you, you know how it works. There was a LOT of rejoicing.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
4-23-25 - Our Super Power
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
If you could be granted a super power, what would it be? The ability to fly? Become invisible at will? Transform into another kind of being? Heal people just by touching them?
According to the Gospels, some of those super powers may be ours someday, if the properties of Jesus’ resurrection body have anything to tell us. And some of those super powers are already ours by faith through the gift of the Holy Spirit. But the first super power Jesus conferred upon his disciples when he returned to them Easter night was one we might not think to ask for – the power to forgive: Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”
This is the first gift of the Spirit mentioned in the Gospels. It is a power that can bring freedom and peace. And, like many super powers, it can be dangerous if abused - or neglected. The saints of God have the authority to forgive, to set free those who have caused harm to themselves or others. And the church (the saints of God) has the authority to withhold forgiveness, to keep people locked in the consequences of the harm they’ve caused. When the church forgets it has been given this authority, when it either devolves into self-righteous condemnation of others, or a wishy-washy "no problem, God loves you" sentimentality that ignores the real toxicity of sin, we end up with a whole lot of stuckness clogging our wheels, impeding our progress.
We can see the fruits of unforgiveness writ large in the American body politic. Many who claim the mantle of Christ seem to have gone out of the forgiveness business altogether, preferring to label and demonize, objectify and divide. Indeed, there are few temptations more corrosive than righteous indignation – it can fuel our anger and quell our compassion and point us inward. When large swaths of the population stop talking to – or listening to – other large groups, we become polarized and paralyzed. And when some do this in the name of Christ, the church is weakened.
We have received the Holy Spirit – in baptism, in communion, in prayer, in action. Before we seek the splashier gifts of the Spirit, what if we focus on our calling to be agents of forgiveness? I once read an interview with Thich Nhat Hanh, the late Buddhist spiritual teacher, on the subject of forgiveness. He said we have to deal with anger before we can forgive – and one way to deal with our anger is to cultivate compassion for those who are causing harm. We can ask God to show us why they have become that way, what unhealed wounds they are operating out of. And we ask God to show us the same about ourselves.
The super power to forgive – or not – has been given to us. Will we use it for good?
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
If you could be granted a super power, what would it be? The ability to fly? Become invisible at will? Transform into another kind of being? Heal people just by touching them?
According to the Gospels, some of those super powers may be ours someday, if the properties of Jesus’ resurrection body have anything to tell us. And some of those super powers are already ours by faith through the gift of the Holy Spirit. But the first super power Jesus conferred upon his disciples when he returned to them Easter night was one we might not think to ask for – the power to forgive: Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”
This is the first gift of the Spirit mentioned in the Gospels. It is a power that can bring freedom and peace. And, like many super powers, it can be dangerous if abused - or neglected. The saints of God have the authority to forgive, to set free those who have caused harm to themselves or others. And the church (the saints of God) has the authority to withhold forgiveness, to keep people locked in the consequences of the harm they’ve caused. When the church forgets it has been given this authority, when it either devolves into self-righteous condemnation of others, or a wishy-washy "no problem, God loves you" sentimentality that ignores the real toxicity of sin, we end up with a whole lot of stuckness clogging our wheels, impeding our progress.
We can see the fruits of unforgiveness writ large in the American body politic. Many who claim the mantle of Christ seem to have gone out of the forgiveness business altogether, preferring to label and demonize, objectify and divide. Indeed, there are few temptations more corrosive than righteous indignation – it can fuel our anger and quell our compassion and point us inward. When large swaths of the population stop talking to – or listening to – other large groups, we become polarized and paralyzed. And when some do this in the name of Christ, the church is weakened.
We have received the Holy Spirit – in baptism, in communion, in prayer, in action. Before we seek the splashier gifts of the Spirit, what if we focus on our calling to be agents of forgiveness? I once read an interview with Thich Nhat Hanh, the late Buddhist spiritual teacher, on the subject of forgiveness. He said we have to deal with anger before we can forgive – and one way to deal with our anger is to cultivate compassion for those who are causing harm. We can ask God to show us why they have become that way, what unhealed wounds they are operating out of. And we ask God to show us the same about ourselves.
The super power to forgive – or not – has been given to us. Will we use it for good?
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
3-28-25 - Found and Lost
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
It has been hard to pack all we might say about this powerful parable into five days. (To go deeper, I recommend Henri Nouwen’s classic, The Return of the Prodigal Son, which explores this story and especially its three main characters through the lens of Rembrandt’s painting of the same name.)
We haven’t spent nearly enough time on this “prodigal father,” whose extravagant forgiveness and restoration of his wastral son strikes some as no less wasteful than that son’s squandering of his inheritance. First among those who feel that way is the father’s elder son, who gets wind of the reunion and is horrified: “Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’”
For the second time that day, the father goes out to meet a son where he is, not waiting for him to come in. He loves his sons equally – and that in itself is an affront to this elder boy who has faithfully served and done everything right. In his view, his father should love him more, for he has earned it.
And in this view he has a lot of company. When I ask people to whom they relate in this parable, most say the older brother. We like fairness. We like earning our way. Yet Jesus made it clear in parable after parable that the Realm of God is a place not of fairness but of grace. Grace extended to others, undeserving others – and grace by its definition comes to the undeserving – can make us feel cheated.
But God’s economy is one of abundance. Had the elder brother asked for a party, he could have had one every week. But how can he expect the father to love his other son less? The father’s love is a full measure, pressed down, overflowing. As I once sensed God say to me in prayer, “I already love you the most. There is nothing you have to do, or can do, to make me love you more – I love you the most.”
“Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”
Jesus leaves the story unresolved. Does the elder son relent, allow grace to flow into him? Or does he define himself “lost” by his hardness of heart, like the religious leaders to whom Jesus was likely referring? And what about us? Are we willing to count ourselves “found” if the company includes people we would have trouble forgiving? What if we let God do it for us?
© 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.
It has been hard to pack all we might say about this powerful parable into five days. (To go deeper, I recommend Henri Nouwen’s classic, The Return of the Prodigal Son, which explores this story and especially its three main characters through the lens of Rembrandt’s painting of the same name.)
We haven’t spent nearly enough time on this “prodigal father,” whose extravagant forgiveness and restoration of his wastral son strikes some as no less wasteful than that son’s squandering of his inheritance. First among those who feel that way is the father’s elder son, who gets wind of the reunion and is horrified: “Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’”
For the second time that day, the father goes out to meet a son where he is, not waiting for him to come in. He loves his sons equally – and that in itself is an affront to this elder boy who has faithfully served and done everything right. In his view, his father should love him more, for he has earned it.
And in this view he has a lot of company. When I ask people to whom they relate in this parable, most say the older brother. We like fairness. We like earning our way. Yet Jesus made it clear in parable after parable that the Realm of God is a place not of fairness but of grace. Grace extended to others, undeserving others – and grace by its definition comes to the undeserving – can make us feel cheated.
But God’s economy is one of abundance. Had the elder brother asked for a party, he could have had one every week. But how can he expect the father to love his other son less? The father’s love is a full measure, pressed down, overflowing. As I once sensed God say to me in prayer, “I already love you the most. There is nothing you have to do, or can do, to make me love you more – I love you the most.”
“Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”
Jesus leaves the story unresolved. Does the elder son relent, allow grace to flow into him? Or does he define himself “lost” by his hardness of heart, like the religious leaders to whom Jesus was likely referring? And what about us? Are we willing to count ourselves “found” if the company includes people we would have trouble forgiving? What if we let God do it for us?
© 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.
3-27-25 - Home Comes To Us
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As a teenager, I was enthralled with the movie Love Story, with its famous tagline, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” That kind of statement can pretty much only be made after someone’s just said, “I’m sorry…” A more accurate statement would be, “Love means always having to say you’re sorry.” We need always be aware of the ways in which we hurt or fail to notice our loved ones’ feelings. Learning to say you’re sorry quickly and naturally is one of the building blocks of a healthy relationship.
Yet working up to “I’m sorry” is often a struggle. Once we’ve wrestled through our self-justifications and acknowledged the need, we often find ourselves rehearsing, trying to find the right words. That’s exactly what the young man in Jesus’ story does: writes his speech ahead of time: “I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’” So he set off and went to his father.
When we head off to ask forgiveness of another person, we can never be sure of the reception we’ll get. This young man, who had in effect disowned his father, probably causing him to liquidate assets at a loss, may have assumed his father had disowned him. When we offer repentance, we have to simply offer it, and be willing to lay it down and walk away. We can’t compel forgiveness or even a hearing.
Ah, but Jesus tells us that it’s different with God. If this story is a picture of what the realm of God is like, we should take notice of what happens next: forgiveness doesn’t wait for this young man to express his sorrow. Forgiveness is out in the road, waiting for him: But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.
The son tries to make his speech, but his father is way ahead of him: But the father said to his servants, “Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!”
Was the father peering down that road every day, hoping against hope to see his son return? Did he even care if the boy was sorry, or did he only want to be reunited with his beloved? Does God really love us that much?
Jesus said “yes.” Jesus showed us “yes,” just how much God loves us. Jesus left Home and came into our road to wait for us. We don’t even have to get home – Home comes to us, with royal robes and sandals for our tired feet. This is one “I’m sorry” for which we don’t have to doubt the reception. We only need to turn ourselves toward home.
© 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.
As a teenager, I was enthralled with the movie Love Story, with its famous tagline, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” That kind of statement can pretty much only be made after someone’s just said, “I’m sorry…” A more accurate statement would be, “Love means always having to say you’re sorry.” We need always be aware of the ways in which we hurt or fail to notice our loved ones’ feelings. Learning to say you’re sorry quickly and naturally is one of the building blocks of a healthy relationship.
Yet working up to “I’m sorry” is often a struggle. Once we’ve wrestled through our self-justifications and acknowledged the need, we often find ourselves rehearsing, trying to find the right words. That’s exactly what the young man in Jesus’ story does: writes his speech ahead of time: “I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’” So he set off and went to his father.
When we head off to ask forgiveness of another person, we can never be sure of the reception we’ll get. This young man, who had in effect disowned his father, probably causing him to liquidate assets at a loss, may have assumed his father had disowned him. When we offer repentance, we have to simply offer it, and be willing to lay it down and walk away. We can’t compel forgiveness or even a hearing.
Ah, but Jesus tells us that it’s different with God. If this story is a picture of what the realm of God is like, we should take notice of what happens next: forgiveness doesn’t wait for this young man to express his sorrow. Forgiveness is out in the road, waiting for him: But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.
The son tries to make his speech, but his father is way ahead of him: But the father said to his servants, “Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!”
Was the father peering down that road every day, hoping against hope to see his son return? Did he even care if the boy was sorry, or did he only want to be reunited with his beloved? Does God really love us that much?
Jesus said “yes.” Jesus showed us “yes,” just how much God loves us. Jesus left Home and came into our road to wait for us. We don’t even have to get home – Home comes to us, with royal robes and sandals for our tired feet. This is one “I’m sorry” for which we don’t have to doubt the reception. We only need to turn ourselves toward home.
© 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.
3-25-25 - Independence
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Growing up can be described as one long, push-and-pull struggle for independence. We strive to be seen for who we are, separate from our parents and their expectations and desires. Psychologists call this process individuation, and how one navigates it has great bearing on the maturity and self-integrity one has as an adult. Pushing out and pulling back enact a basic inner conflict we all share: We want to be our own person, and we want to be enfolded in Home, be it real or idealized. And we can’t have both.
Some people push out harder than others. The young man in the story Jesus told pushed farther than many – he not only struck out on his own, he pretty much burned his bridges. [Jesus said] “There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and travelled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living.”
Asking for his inheritance before his father had even died was tantamount to wishing the old man dead. And going to a distant country was a way of saying to those at home, “I’m getting as far away from you as I can. I can take care of myself.” Only it turns out he couldn’t – he lacked the maturity to spend his inheritance wisely. He squandered it living the high life, no doubt buying drinks for hangers-on who disappeared as soon as his cash was gone. This young man went as far away from Home as he could.
Was he rebelling against his father? The three glimpses we get of this father show him to be a wise and compassionate man, excelling in grace with his difficult sons. Was this young man’s behavior a response to losing his mother - Jesus mentions none. Or was this son reacting to the rectitude of his older brother, whom we learn is obedient to a fault? Some schools of psychology root personality development in sibling relationships as much as parental ones. Did this “goody two shoes” take all the gold stars, leaving his younger brother to define himself by rebellion?
Here I go again, treating this like a real story. As of course it is, in one way or another. How is it real for you?
Where do you find yourself in this younger son?
When have you rebelled, and against who or what?
In what ways do you try go it alone, to make it on self-saving strategies rather than relying on God and community?
Are you comfortable in being the person you are, or do you feel incomplete?
Our God desires wholeness for us, within ourselves, and in our relationships with others. Often that requires knowing where we are “unwhole” – and unholy. If you feel like making a conscious a self-examination, here is a form you can download to help think through the areas of your life.
We may not be squandering our property in riotous living, but I dare say most of us are some distance from the Love that made us and calls us home. Awareness of what is causing that distance will help reduce it.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Growing up can be described as one long, push-and-pull struggle for independence. We strive to be seen for who we are, separate from our parents and their expectations and desires. Psychologists call this process individuation, and how one navigates it has great bearing on the maturity and self-integrity one has as an adult. Pushing out and pulling back enact a basic inner conflict we all share: We want to be our own person, and we want to be enfolded in Home, be it real or idealized. And we can’t have both.
Some people push out harder than others. The young man in the story Jesus told pushed farther than many – he not only struck out on his own, he pretty much burned his bridges. [Jesus said] “There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and travelled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living.”
Asking for his inheritance before his father had even died was tantamount to wishing the old man dead. And going to a distant country was a way of saying to those at home, “I’m getting as far away from you as I can. I can take care of myself.” Only it turns out he couldn’t – he lacked the maturity to spend his inheritance wisely. He squandered it living the high life, no doubt buying drinks for hangers-on who disappeared as soon as his cash was gone. This young man went as far away from Home as he could.
Was he rebelling against his father? The three glimpses we get of this father show him to be a wise and compassionate man, excelling in grace with his difficult sons. Was this young man’s behavior a response to losing his mother - Jesus mentions none. Or was this son reacting to the rectitude of his older brother, whom we learn is obedient to a fault? Some schools of psychology root personality development in sibling relationships as much as parental ones. Did this “goody two shoes” take all the gold stars, leaving his younger brother to define himself by rebellion?
Here I go again, treating this like a real story. As of course it is, in one way or another. How is it real for you?
Where do you find yourself in this younger son?
When have you rebelled, and against who or what?
In what ways do you try go it alone, to make it on self-saving strategies rather than relying on God and community?
Are you comfortable in being the person you are, or do you feel incomplete?
Our God desires wholeness for us, within ourselves, and in our relationships with others. Often that requires knowing where we are “unwhole” – and unholy. If you feel like making a conscious a self-examination, here is a form you can download to help think through the areas of your life.
We may not be squandering our property in riotous living, but I dare say most of us are some distance from the Love that made us and calls us home. Awareness of what is causing that distance will help reduce it.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
3-24-25 - Eating With Sinners
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Oh joy! This week we get to reflect of the best stories in the entire bible: Jesus’ parable about a man and his two sons, and their very different approaches to sin and forgiveness. This story is told in such vivid detail, some forget it is a parable; they think it really happened. In some ways, it did, and does, every single day. But it is a tale Jesus made up to enlighten the religious leaders who looked askance at the company he kept: Now all the tax-collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So Jesus told them this parable: ‘There was a man who had two sons…”
Before we get into the details of the story, let’s think about the context in which it is being told, which also provides the reason. Jesus wasn’t just spinning a cool yarn, he was making a point in narrative form, in a story which he knew would have resonances for all his hearers. The context was the fact that many of the people responding to Jesus’ invitation to “Come, follow me,” were the wrong sorts of people, tax collectors and sinners.
Remember, tax collectors in that day had little in common with IRS auditors; they were Jews who collected the Romans’ taxes for them, often strong-arming their fellow Jews and adding on a hefty surcharge for their own “fees.” They were corrupt and often extortionist, and hated as collaborators with the occupying empire. The term “sinners” probably included low-lifes, petty thieves, prostitutes and party girls – those who did not measure up in fidelity to the law and traditions as well as did the religious leaders.
So Jesus tells a story about one son who is quite obviously a sinner who has strayed far from God’s ways, who comes to repentance and is forgiven; and another son who does everything right – except for his utter inability to show mercy. And that just might exceed other forms of sin in its virulence. Those who point at others and label them sinners are often the ones most in need of God’s grace and least able to accept it.
Before we enter the story, let’s take some time to think about who it is that we regard as “sinners.” For few are so full of God’s grace that they don’t find one sort of person or other offensive. We might be fine with tax collectors and prostitutes, but have trouble with hypocritical leaders, or people who would kill animals for sport, or the ultra-wealthy, or terrorists, or … you name it. Who is it that you have trouble forgiving, even accepting that God might forgive? Make a list today.
We need to know who it is that we label “sinners” so that we might contemplate eating with them. That’s what Jesus did. He hung out with those whom others thought unworthy. He was able to stomach some pretty rough company – and by breaking bread with such people and offering relationship, to lead them to repentance and transformation. When you think about it, every Sunday Jesus breaks bread with a bunch of sinners. And he hasn’t kicked us out yet.
© 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.
Oh joy! This week we get to reflect of the best stories in the entire bible: Jesus’ parable about a man and his two sons, and their very different approaches to sin and forgiveness. This story is told in such vivid detail, some forget it is a parable; they think it really happened. In some ways, it did, and does, every single day. But it is a tale Jesus made up to enlighten the religious leaders who looked askance at the company he kept: Now all the tax-collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So Jesus told them this parable: ‘There was a man who had two sons…”
Before we get into the details of the story, let’s think about the context in which it is being told, which also provides the reason. Jesus wasn’t just spinning a cool yarn, he was making a point in narrative form, in a story which he knew would have resonances for all his hearers. The context was the fact that many of the people responding to Jesus’ invitation to “Come, follow me,” were the wrong sorts of people, tax collectors and sinners.
Remember, tax collectors in that day had little in common with IRS auditors; they were Jews who collected the Romans’ taxes for them, often strong-arming their fellow Jews and adding on a hefty surcharge for their own “fees.” They were corrupt and often extortionist, and hated as collaborators with the occupying empire. The term “sinners” probably included low-lifes, petty thieves, prostitutes and party girls – those who did not measure up in fidelity to the law and traditions as well as did the religious leaders.
So Jesus tells a story about one son who is quite obviously a sinner who has strayed far from God’s ways, who comes to repentance and is forgiven; and another son who does everything right – except for his utter inability to show mercy. And that just might exceed other forms of sin in its virulence. Those who point at others and label them sinners are often the ones most in need of God’s grace and least able to accept it.
Before we enter the story, let’s take some time to think about who it is that we regard as “sinners.” For few are so full of God’s grace that they don’t find one sort of person or other offensive. We might be fine with tax collectors and prostitutes, but have trouble with hypocritical leaders, or people who would kill animals for sport, or the ultra-wealthy, or terrorists, or … you name it. Who is it that you have trouble forgiving, even accepting that God might forgive? Make a list today.
We need to know who it is that we label “sinners” so that we might contemplate eating with them. That’s what Jesus did. He hung out with those whom others thought unworthy. He was able to stomach some pretty rough company – and by breaking bread with such people and offering relationship, to lead them to repentance and transformation. When you think about it, every Sunday Jesus breaks bread with a bunch of sinners. And he hasn’t kicked us out yet.
© 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.
2-21-25 - The Other Cheek
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's Hebrew Bible reading is here.
“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also.” What kind of way to live is this? Wouldn’t it just make us all doormats? And who could do this anyway?
Unless you’re Jesus Christ, it might seem impossible to be this giving, this forgiving, this grace-filled. But in our Hebrew Bible we have a story of someone who did just that: did good to those who hated him, blessed those who cursed him, gave to those who abused him. This Sunday we hear the tail end of the story of Joseph, the beloved eleventh son of Jacob; the dreamer so hated by his older brothers they threw him down a well, then sold him to slave traders and told their father he had been killed by a wild animal, showing off his blood-spattered “coat of many colors” as proof. Their actions not only hastened the decline of their father, but started a cycle of misery and abuse for their brother.
Taken to Egypt and sold into service, he suffered further misadventures, but ultimately came to the attention of Pharaoh, and ended up as Pharaoh’s senior advisor, managing the entire country. (Read the whole wonderfully written novella in Genesis 37,39-47.) Foreseeing a regional famine, Joseph is able to stockpile grain for Egypt. When the famine hits Israel, his brothers are sent to Egypt to buy food. They don’t recognize their brother when they come before him, but he knows them. He strings them along, perhaps exacting some emotional revenge, but ultimately we see the big “reveal” and forgiveness of a horrible trauma that not only imperiled his life, but left him cut off for decades from his family and beloved father. He blesses those who persecuted him, and forgives his abusers.
Of course, Joseph does this from a place of freedom and power – perhaps that makes it easier. But the power to forgive and bless is ours no matter where we sit. For someone under the thumb of oppression or captivity, it may be the only power, the only form of choice, the only freedom. Every person bound in chattel slavery or human trafficking; every one locked in an abusive relationship; even those held in cycles of addiction comes to recognize this. Making the choice to forgive, to release, also releases us.
For those privileged not to be in such circumstances, the urgency is no less real. Inability to forgive those who have hurt, betrayed or abused us leaves us tied to them and gives them “real estate” in our minds and psyches. Releasing people from the very real debts they owe us is turning the other check, for we may be inviting more mistreatment. The only difference is, now it is our choice, because we want to be free, and we want them to be free. That’s what praying for our abusers can yield – a desire that they be free. It doesn’t mean we don’t want them punished; it means we don’t need to do the punishing. And it doesn’t mean we stay in the relationship; it only means we’ve chosen freedom.
“For freedom Christ has set us free,” Paul wrote to the Galatians, who were slipping out of grace into a rigid legalism. Freedom is God’s desire for us, and for every child of God. Those who forgive and bless and release in Jesus’ name are not doormats; we are freedom fighters.
© 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.
“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also.” What kind of way to live is this? Wouldn’t it just make us all doormats? And who could do this anyway?
Unless you’re Jesus Christ, it might seem impossible to be this giving, this forgiving, this grace-filled. But in our Hebrew Bible we have a story of someone who did just that: did good to those who hated him, blessed those who cursed him, gave to those who abused him. This Sunday we hear the tail end of the story of Joseph, the beloved eleventh son of Jacob; the dreamer so hated by his older brothers they threw him down a well, then sold him to slave traders and told their father he had been killed by a wild animal, showing off his blood-spattered “coat of many colors” as proof. Their actions not only hastened the decline of their father, but started a cycle of misery and abuse for their brother.
Taken to Egypt and sold into service, he suffered further misadventures, but ultimately came to the attention of Pharaoh, and ended up as Pharaoh’s senior advisor, managing the entire country. (Read the whole wonderfully written novella in Genesis 37,39-47.) Foreseeing a regional famine, Joseph is able to stockpile grain for Egypt. When the famine hits Israel, his brothers are sent to Egypt to buy food. They don’t recognize their brother when they come before him, but he knows them. He strings them along, perhaps exacting some emotional revenge, but ultimately we see the big “reveal” and forgiveness of a horrible trauma that not only imperiled his life, but left him cut off for decades from his family and beloved father. He blesses those who persecuted him, and forgives his abusers.
Of course, Joseph does this from a place of freedom and power – perhaps that makes it easier. But the power to forgive and bless is ours no matter where we sit. For someone under the thumb of oppression or captivity, it may be the only power, the only form of choice, the only freedom. Every person bound in chattel slavery or human trafficking; every one locked in an abusive relationship; even those held in cycles of addiction comes to recognize this. Making the choice to forgive, to release, also releases us.
For those privileged not to be in such circumstances, the urgency is no less real. Inability to forgive those who have hurt, betrayed or abused us leaves us tied to them and gives them “real estate” in our minds and psyches. Releasing people from the very real debts they owe us is turning the other check, for we may be inviting more mistreatment. The only difference is, now it is our choice, because we want to be free, and we want them to be free. That’s what praying for our abusers can yield – a desire that they be free. It doesn’t mean we don’t want them punished; it means we don’t need to do the punishing. And it doesn’t mean we stay in the relationship; it only means we’ve chosen freedom.
“For freedom Christ has set us free,” Paul wrote to the Galatians, who were slipping out of grace into a rigid legalism. Freedom is God’s desire for us, and for every child of God. Those who forgive and bless and release in Jesus’ name are not doormats; we are freedom fighters.
© 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.
2-6-25 - Encountering the Holy
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
After Jesus’ fishing miracle, Simon Peter has an odd reaction to seeing his nets filled to the breaking point with fish. He doesn’t exult, or gleefully anticipate the profit ahead; he realizes his unworthiness: But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”
The fancy spiritual word for what Peter was going through is “compunction,” when we become aware of our sinfulness or a particular area of sin in us. In this action, Jesus had revealed to Simon beyond a shadow of doubt that he was the Holy One – and Peter’s reaction to being in the presence of the holy was to become hyper-aware of his unholiness. Isaiah, in his vision in the temple (also a reading for Sunday) has the same reaction, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!"
In both instances, God redirects the repentance into mission. Isaiah hears, “Whom shall I send,” and answers, “Here am I! Send me!” Jesus, in that boat with Peter, says nothing about sin – he knows Peter will continue to struggle with those things that make him less than who God made him to be. Neither does he offer forgiveness – that is a given with Jesus. He simply says, “Do not be afraid. I have plans for you. From now on, you will fish for people and catch them.”
Has there been a time when you have felt the presence of Jesus with you? What effect did that have?
Was there ever a time when you felt filled with an awareness of your sinfulness? What inspired that?
Too often in prayer I trot out my sins and repentance – and find God seems little interested in them. God is not in the business of punishment; we do enough of that ourselves. We may go through times of chastening, but those are really boot camp for mission. God is in the business of transformation. All that we offer up in confession is met with an overwhelming love and grace that invites us into new ways of being. We can spend years and a lot of energy feeling guilty or ashamed for how we operate or things we’ve done – and discover that God is much more interested in calling us forward into mission in Christ.
We may not have an explosive experience like Peter did that day in the boat, but we can, anytime, anywhere, come into the presence of the Holy through prayer. And in that presence, the presence of pure Goodness, we can be real about who we are and experience a love we cannot manufacture. And then we can move beyond that encounter into relationship, as we follow Jesus and develop the capacity for more and more of his life in us.
© 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.
After Jesus’ fishing miracle, Simon Peter has an odd reaction to seeing his nets filled to the breaking point with fish. He doesn’t exult, or gleefully anticipate the profit ahead; he realizes his unworthiness: But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”
The fancy spiritual word for what Peter was going through is “compunction,” when we become aware of our sinfulness or a particular area of sin in us. In this action, Jesus had revealed to Simon beyond a shadow of doubt that he was the Holy One – and Peter’s reaction to being in the presence of the holy was to become hyper-aware of his unholiness. Isaiah, in his vision in the temple (also a reading for Sunday) has the same reaction, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!"
In both instances, God redirects the repentance into mission. Isaiah hears, “Whom shall I send,” and answers, “Here am I! Send me!” Jesus, in that boat with Peter, says nothing about sin – he knows Peter will continue to struggle with those things that make him less than who God made him to be. Neither does he offer forgiveness – that is a given with Jesus. He simply says, “Do not be afraid. I have plans for you. From now on, you will fish for people and catch them.”
Has there been a time when you have felt the presence of Jesus with you? What effect did that have?
Was there ever a time when you felt filled with an awareness of your sinfulness? What inspired that?
Too often in prayer I trot out my sins and repentance – and find God seems little interested in them. God is not in the business of punishment; we do enough of that ourselves. We may go through times of chastening, but those are really boot camp for mission. God is in the business of transformation. All that we offer up in confession is met with an overwhelming love and grace that invites us into new ways of being. We can spend years and a lot of energy feeling guilty or ashamed for how we operate or things we’ve done – and discover that God is much more interested in calling us forward into mission in Christ.
We may not have an explosive experience like Peter did that day in the boat, but we can, anytime, anywhere, come into the presence of the Holy through prayer. And in that presence, the presence of pure Goodness, we can be real about who we are and experience a love we cannot manufacture. And then we can move beyond that encounter into relationship, as we follow Jesus and develop the capacity for more and more of his life in us.
© 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.
1-7-25 - Forgiven
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Most Christian traditions agree that baptism confers some measure of forgiveness, a washing away of sin. They argue about just how much sin is forgiven, and how completely. Are sins we have yet to commit washed away in baptism, or only those already laid to our account? Is it only "actualized" sin, or the proclivity to sin itself which is cleansed? And if the cleansing is both is retroactive and anticipatory, why bother baptizing babies who have barely had a chance to get busy sinning? Some even ask, why the focus on sin at all? Isn’t baptism just a happy occasion for God’s grace to flood us?
Yes, yes, and yes. Whether or not we use the word “sin,” most would agree that human beings are wired to benefit ourselves, and this ingrained self-orientation often leads to words and actions that adversely affect others and our connection with God. That's what we call sin. Yes, we’re capable for pushing past this wiring to be other-directed, but I don’t believe there is a person in the world for whom that is the default position. Oh wait, maybe there was one…
It is this basic orientation toward self for which we receive forgiveness in baptism. And so this sacrament, made holy by virtue of Jesus’ baptism, confers on us ultimate forgiveness, deservedly or not. Baptism is the source of our identity as forgiven sinner/saints. And as we understand, believe, appropriate and incorporate our identity as already forgiven, we are better able to push past our natural motivation toward self. The saint in us gradually overwhelms the sinner.
All that in a few drops of water? Yes! That’s the beauty of sacraments – it’s not the signs and symbols that do the work, but the Holy Spirit, invited and active in the gathered community, who effects eternal changes in this temporal realm. How differently might we behave if we felt eternally forgiven in the very midst of our messy, often self-seeking lives? How much freer we would be if we wore ID bracelets that read, “Forgiven!”
Maybe we should try that… or at least remind each other more often. So here I am reminding you. You are forgiven. Forever.
© 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.
Most Christian traditions agree that baptism confers some measure of forgiveness, a washing away of sin. They argue about just how much sin is forgiven, and how completely. Are sins we have yet to commit washed away in baptism, or only those already laid to our account? Is it only "actualized" sin, or the proclivity to sin itself which is cleansed? And if the cleansing is both is retroactive and anticipatory, why bother baptizing babies who have barely had a chance to get busy sinning? Some even ask, why the focus on sin at all? Isn’t baptism just a happy occasion for God’s grace to flood us?
Yes, yes, and yes. Whether or not we use the word “sin,” most would agree that human beings are wired to benefit ourselves, and this ingrained self-orientation often leads to words and actions that adversely affect others and our connection with God. That's what we call sin. Yes, we’re capable for pushing past this wiring to be other-directed, but I don’t believe there is a person in the world for whom that is the default position. Oh wait, maybe there was one…
It is this basic orientation toward self for which we receive forgiveness in baptism. And so this sacrament, made holy by virtue of Jesus’ baptism, confers on us ultimate forgiveness, deservedly or not. Baptism is the source of our identity as forgiven sinner/saints. And as we understand, believe, appropriate and incorporate our identity as already forgiven, we are better able to push past our natural motivation toward self. The saint in us gradually overwhelms the sinner.
All that in a few drops of water? Yes! That’s the beauty of sacraments – it’s not the signs and symbols that do the work, but the Holy Spirit, invited and active in the gathered community, who effects eternal changes in this temporal realm. How differently might we behave if we felt eternally forgiven in the very midst of our messy, often self-seeking lives? How much freer we would be if we wore ID bracelets that read, “Forgiven!”
Maybe we should try that… or at least remind each other more often. So here I am reminding you. You are forgiven. Forever.
© 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.
7-9-24 - Lavish Grace
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's epistle reading is here.
When was the last time something was lavished on you? Luxury? Hospitality? Kindness? Thanks to our Puritan forebears, we may not associate words like “lavished” and “riches” and “pleasure” with our life in God. But Paul lays it on thick when rhapsodizing about God’s generosity toward us in forgiveness and redemption: In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and insight he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.
How we feel about being forgiven and redeemed is entangled with whether or not we feel we need forgiving and redeeming. Some people feel guilt and shame pretty easily – for them, these are words of life. Others are offended by the notion that we, good creatures made in the image of God, might be characterized as “sinners,” and find the whole notion of repentance oppressive. I’ve been asked why we talk about sin in our worship services, as though the word itself conveys a wrong emphasis. Perhaps we should talk about hurtfulness; most people get that.
St. Paul had no problem talking about guilt and shame – he knew how prideful and arrogant he had been as a follower of the Mosaic law, and how zealously and violently he had persecuted the Christ-followers. He had a visceral gratitude for the forgiveness of his sins and redemption he came to understand as God's gift through Christ’s redeeming sacrifice. Recognizing how destructive he could be allowed him to understand the true cost and immeasurable value of God’s forgiving grace.
John Newton, the repentant slave trader who wrote the hymn Amazing Grace, understood what that unmerited redemption was worth once he came to see how lost he was, how depraved in his disregard for the value of other human beings. It took seeing his sinfulness to understand the extent of God’s transforming love – a love that not only restores individuals, but is part of God’s larger plan to restore all of creation to wholeness, “things in heaven and things on earth.”
Can you think of a time when you have received “amazing grace” from a person and/or from God? It can be simultaneously humiliating and exhilarating to be on the receiving end of forgiveness when we’re aware of how hurtful we can be.
And have you been called upon to forgive an extraordinary hurt? How did you come to that forgiveness? Was it connected to grace you’ve received? This is one reason we include confession in our prayers – to remember who we are, and how loved we are because and in spite of who we are.
Our nation saw grace “lavished” when members of Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina, even the families of those massacred there, freely offered forgiveness to the murderer. Many observers took offense at that, feeling that the shooter did not deserve to be forgiven, especially as he seemed unrepentant. To which the Christian says, "Exactly." Those who offered forgiveness understood that, from the perspective of God’s holiness, none of us deserve it, yet God has lavished grace upon us.
Only as we understand that we need, and have received, that grace for ourselves are we truly able to lavish it on others. As we do that, God’s plan for the cosmos becomes ever more complete.
© 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.
When was the last time something was lavished on you? Luxury? Hospitality? Kindness? Thanks to our Puritan forebears, we may not associate words like “lavished” and “riches” and “pleasure” with our life in God. But Paul lays it on thick when rhapsodizing about God’s generosity toward us in forgiveness and redemption: In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and insight he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.
How we feel about being forgiven and redeemed is entangled with whether or not we feel we need forgiving and redeeming. Some people feel guilt and shame pretty easily – for them, these are words of life. Others are offended by the notion that we, good creatures made in the image of God, might be characterized as “sinners,” and find the whole notion of repentance oppressive. I’ve been asked why we talk about sin in our worship services, as though the word itself conveys a wrong emphasis. Perhaps we should talk about hurtfulness; most people get that.
St. Paul had no problem talking about guilt and shame – he knew how prideful and arrogant he had been as a follower of the Mosaic law, and how zealously and violently he had persecuted the Christ-followers. He had a visceral gratitude for the forgiveness of his sins and redemption he came to understand as God's gift through Christ’s redeeming sacrifice. Recognizing how destructive he could be allowed him to understand the true cost and immeasurable value of God’s forgiving grace.
John Newton, the repentant slave trader who wrote the hymn Amazing Grace, understood what that unmerited redemption was worth once he came to see how lost he was, how depraved in his disregard for the value of other human beings. It took seeing his sinfulness to understand the extent of God’s transforming love – a love that not only restores individuals, but is part of God’s larger plan to restore all of creation to wholeness, “things in heaven and things on earth.”
Can you think of a time when you have received “amazing grace” from a person and/or from God? It can be simultaneously humiliating and exhilarating to be on the receiving end of forgiveness when we’re aware of how hurtful we can be.
And have you been called upon to forgive an extraordinary hurt? How did you come to that forgiveness? Was it connected to grace you’ve received? This is one reason we include confession in our prayers – to remember who we are, and how loved we are because and in spite of who we are.
Our nation saw grace “lavished” when members of Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina, even the families of those massacred there, freely offered forgiveness to the murderer. Many observers took offense at that, feeling that the shooter did not deserve to be forgiven, especially as he seemed unrepentant. To which the Christian says, "Exactly." Those who offered forgiveness understood that, from the perspective of God’s holiness, none of us deserve it, yet God has lavished grace upon us.
Only as we understand that we need, and have received, that grace for ourselves are we truly able to lavish it on others. As we do that, God’s plan for the cosmos becomes ever more complete.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
4-12-24 - Proclaiming Forgiveness
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
If Jesus’ words to his gathered disciples on the evening of the day of resurrection are to be attended, his assurances of peace came with a charge: to proclaim repentance and forgiveness of sins to all nations.
If Jesus’ words to his gathered disciples on the evening of the day of resurrection are to be attended, his assurances of peace came with a charge: to proclaim repentance and forgiveness of sins to all nations.
…and he said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.”
A focus on repentance and forgiveness can be off-putting – too much cultural guilt associated with the idea of sin. So maybe that's not where we begin to proclaim the Good News. But it’s not hard to get there once the conversation is started. People in recovery from addiction understand innately the need to repent; others of us need only look at our behavior in relationships to quickly arrive at the same understanding. To comprehend that we are capable of hurting ourselves and others, AND to grasp that a remedy has been provided, is freedom indeed. That is a huge gift we have to share.
The promise of life in Christ goes way beyond forgiveness to healing and wholeness in every sphere. As witnesses to this source of healing, we maintain a balancing act, keeping repentance in the picture while making room for the rest of the story of our of life in Christ.
Can you think of a time when you felt set free by the promise of forgiveness, whether that came from a person or from God? Can you imagine leading another person to that place of relief and freedom? Today, you might reflect on those moments of connection in your life, and then think about who you might be called to bear witness with.
The proclamation Jesus commanded began in Jerusalem on Easter night. A few weeks later, it began to spread around the region and then to the ends of the earth. If we bear witness to freedom in God’s love, it will continue to spread until everyone has been drawn into Christ’s saving embrace. Then there will be no need for repentance.
© 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.
A focus on repentance and forgiveness can be off-putting – too much cultural guilt associated with the idea of sin. So maybe that's not where we begin to proclaim the Good News. But it’s not hard to get there once the conversation is started. People in recovery from addiction understand innately the need to repent; others of us need only look at our behavior in relationships to quickly arrive at the same understanding. To comprehend that we are capable of hurting ourselves and others, AND to grasp that a remedy has been provided, is freedom indeed. That is a huge gift we have to share.
The promise of life in Christ goes way beyond forgiveness to healing and wholeness in every sphere. As witnesses to this source of healing, we maintain a balancing act, keeping repentance in the picture while making room for the rest of the story of our of life in Christ.
Can you think of a time when you felt set free by the promise of forgiveness, whether that came from a person or from God? Can you imagine leading another person to that place of relief and freedom? Today, you might reflect on those moments of connection in your life, and then think about who you might be called to bear witness with.
The proclamation Jesus commanded began in Jerusalem on Easter night. A few weeks later, it began to spread around the region and then to the ends of the earth. If we bear witness to freedom in God’s love, it will continue to spread until everyone has been drawn into Christ’s saving embrace. Then there will be no need for repentance.
© 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.
3-4-24 - Snakes On a Pole
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Next Sunday our lectionary takes us into a conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, a member of ruling Jewish council. He has come to learn more about this Jesus fellow who is stirring up so much trouble. Jesus tells him that the Life of God is not comprehensible by physical senses; it is a spiritual reality, and must be discerned spiritually. He chides Nicodemus, “If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man.”
This is a big “outing” of his Messianic identity. Jesus implies that he is this “Son of Man” who has descended from heaven. We can only imagine Nicodemus’ shock – and perhaps horror, at what sounds like megalomania or delusion or pure blasphemy. But Jesus has more in store for him. “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
What on earth did he mean by “So must the Son of Man be lifted up?” From our vantage point, this meant the cross on which Jesus was to die a brutal death, suffering not only the full brunt of human cruelty, but also the full consequence of sin, separation from God. This was the penalty he took to the grave for us, and left buried there when he rose on Easter morning. But how could such a “lifting up” bring salvation, and its reward, eternal life?
To get that, we need to understand the reference to Moses lifting up the snake in the wilderness, a story from the biblical book of Numbers that Nicodemus would have known well. It’s about the Israelites’ journey after their deliverance from slavery in Egypt. Their joy at freedom had quickly turned to bitterness. They complained mightily against God and Moses, "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food." God, angry at their ingratitude, sends poisonous snakes and many die – instigating instant repentance among the survivors. They ask Moses to intercede with God to take away the snakes. And here is God's remedy: And the LORD said to Moses, “Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.” So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.
This story is where we get our symbol for the medical profession. We can see this principle at work in vaccines and homeopathic remedies – a small amount of toxin introduced into the body can build resistance. But how would it work on sin? How did Jesus’ crucifixion set us free? Here’s a stab at answering that mammoth question.
If we are indeed slaves to sin – wired to act for ourselves at the expense of others, which is one way to define sin – then to stare at an image of the crucified Lord is to look at the full effect of sin, the worst case, all the sin of all the self-seeking, creation-exploiting, God-ignoring human beings that ever lived. Yet I believe the healing power of the cross goes beyond a “scared straight” mentality. We are invited to gaze upon, draw near to the healing love of Christ, demonstrated supremely in his taking on this sin-sickness for us. He did not have to. He did it for love, to set us free.
If we think we have no sin, this makes no sense. But if we’ve ever hurt another living creature, or ourselves, and felt that dull ache of shame at our actions… we know. We were suffering a terminal illness. And now we are healed.
© 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.
Next Sunday our lectionary takes us into a conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, a member of ruling Jewish council. He has come to learn more about this Jesus fellow who is stirring up so much trouble. Jesus tells him that the Life of God is not comprehensible by physical senses; it is a spiritual reality, and must be discerned spiritually. He chides Nicodemus, “If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man.”
This is a big “outing” of his Messianic identity. Jesus implies that he is this “Son of Man” who has descended from heaven. We can only imagine Nicodemus’ shock – and perhaps horror, at what sounds like megalomania or delusion or pure blasphemy. But Jesus has more in store for him. “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
What on earth did he mean by “So must the Son of Man be lifted up?” From our vantage point, this meant the cross on which Jesus was to die a brutal death, suffering not only the full brunt of human cruelty, but also the full consequence of sin, separation from God. This was the penalty he took to the grave for us, and left buried there when he rose on Easter morning. But how could such a “lifting up” bring salvation, and its reward, eternal life?
To get that, we need to understand the reference to Moses lifting up the snake in the wilderness, a story from the biblical book of Numbers that Nicodemus would have known well. It’s about the Israelites’ journey after their deliverance from slavery in Egypt. Their joy at freedom had quickly turned to bitterness. They complained mightily against God and Moses, "Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food." God, angry at their ingratitude, sends poisonous snakes and many die – instigating instant repentance among the survivors. They ask Moses to intercede with God to take away the snakes. And here is God's remedy: And the LORD said to Moses, “Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.” So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.
This story is where we get our symbol for the medical profession. We can see this principle at work in vaccines and homeopathic remedies – a small amount of toxin introduced into the body can build resistance. But how would it work on sin? How did Jesus’ crucifixion set us free? Here’s a stab at answering that mammoth question.
If we are indeed slaves to sin – wired to act for ourselves at the expense of others, which is one way to define sin – then to stare at an image of the crucified Lord is to look at the full effect of sin, the worst case, all the sin of all the self-seeking, creation-exploiting, God-ignoring human beings that ever lived. Yet I believe the healing power of the cross goes beyond a “scared straight” mentality. We are invited to gaze upon, draw near to the healing love of Christ, demonstrated supremely in his taking on this sin-sickness for us. He did not have to. He did it for love, to set us free.
If we think we have no sin, this makes no sense. But if we’ve ever hurt another living creature, or ourselves, and felt that dull ache of shame at our actions… we know. We were suffering a terminal illness. And now we are healed.
© 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.
9-22-23 - The Owner
You can listen to this reflection here.
This week we’ve been hearing how the different characters in Jesus’ story might have experienced the event. I thought we’d hear from the Landowner last – and I’m pretty sure the Landowner in this story is God. Parables are open to multiple interpretations, but it’s hard for me to conceive of this character as representing anyone but the Almighty. After all, it is God’s Kingdom that Jesus is trying to convey in his parables, a realm that cannot be depicted or even described except through story and symbol.
Does God come out to the marketplaces of this world and invite those who are willing to work in his vineyard? Does God keep at it, knowing there’s more than enough work for everyone? Does God go after even those whom no one else has wanted to hire, or those who got there late? Does God compensate everyone at the same rate, knowing there is no “more” or “less” when you dwell in abundance?
If this is who God is, we’re in good shape. We can be frustrated, not always able to fully comprehend the ways of God, but we are also in line for more blessings than we can fathom. Above all, this story Jesus told is about blessing, blessing beyond what make sense, blessing that doesn’t quit.
Around the year 400, St. John Chrysostom wrote a beautiful Easter Vigil sermon, drawing on this parable to convey that, no matter what kind of Lenten fast people have kept, no matter what sin, they are welcome at God’s table. I’d like to give him the last word this week, in an excerpt:
If any have toiled from the first hour, let them receive their due reward;
If any have come after the third hour, let him with gratitude join in the Feast!
And he that arrived after the sixth hour, let him not doubt;
This week we’ve been hearing how the different characters in Jesus’ story might have experienced the event. I thought we’d hear from the Landowner last – and I’m pretty sure the Landowner in this story is God. Parables are open to multiple interpretations, but it’s hard for me to conceive of this character as representing anyone but the Almighty. After all, it is God’s Kingdom that Jesus is trying to convey in his parables, a realm that cannot be depicted or even described except through story and symbol.
Does God come out to the marketplaces of this world and invite those who are willing to work in his vineyard? Does God keep at it, knowing there’s more than enough work for everyone? Does God go after even those whom no one else has wanted to hire, or those who got there late? Does God compensate everyone at the same rate, knowing there is no “more” or “less” when you dwell in abundance?
If this is who God is, we’re in good shape. We can be frustrated, not always able to fully comprehend the ways of God, but we are also in line for more blessings than we can fathom. Above all, this story Jesus told is about blessing, blessing beyond what make sense, blessing that doesn’t quit.
Around the year 400, St. John Chrysostom wrote a beautiful Easter Vigil sermon, drawing on this parable to convey that, no matter what kind of Lenten fast people have kept, no matter what sin, they are welcome at God’s table. I’d like to give him the last word this week, in an excerpt:
If any have toiled from the first hour, let them receive their due reward;
If any have come after the third hour, let him with gratitude join in the Feast!
And he that arrived after the sixth hour, let him not doubt;
for he too shall sustain no loss.
And if any delayed until the ninth hour, let him not hesitate; but let him come too.
And he who arrived only at the eleventh hour,
And if any delayed until the ninth hour, let him not hesitate; but let him come too.
And he who arrived only at the eleventh hour,
let him not be afraid by reason of his delay.
For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first.
He gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour,
For the Lord is gracious and receives the last even as the first.
He gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour,
as well as to him that toiled from the first.
To this one He gives, and upon another He bestows.
He accepts the works as He greets the endeavor.
The deed He honors and the intention He commends.
Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!
First and last alike receive your reward; rich and poor, rejoice together!
Sober and slothful, celebrate the day!
You that have kept the fast, and you that have not,
To this one He gives, and upon another He bestows.
He accepts the works as He greets the endeavor.
The deed He honors and the intention He commends.
Let us all enter into the joy of the Lord!
First and last alike receive your reward; rich and poor, rejoice together!
Sober and slothful, celebrate the day!
You that have kept the fast, and you that have not,
rejoice today for the Table is richly laden!
I pray you feast richly this weekend – it’s always Easter around God’s house, and the table is always richly laden.
I pray you feast richly this weekend – it’s always Easter around God’s house, and the table is always richly laden.
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