You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
In this week’s gospel story, we see not only that Jesus could heal infirmity with a word of faith; we see him establish healing as an activity worthy of the Sabbath, God’s holy day. Healing is what God does: “And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?” When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing.
It’s great that the crowd rejoiced at what Jesus was doing. I bet he wanted even more for them to start doing what he was doing, to believe in the power of God released into the world. He wanted them – and us – to engage in healing as a principal sign of the reign of God unleashed.
Maybe if we saw such immediate outcomes to our prayers, we would do a lot more praying. And if we engage more often in healing prayer, we might see many more immediate outcomes. God’s life is a both/and kind of place. We are invited to pray at all times and in all places. And I can testify that the more we approach infirmity with prayer, the more often and quickly we see healing.
If I fall or get hurt, I immediately invoke the presence of Jesus to be with me, to release his healing love already in me. When I burn or ding myself, I invite God to release healing power and love in my body, thanking all the cells for their healing work – and I often see things heal faster without scarring. When I practice my faith on relatively small things, it’s stronger when I need to pray for bigger, scarier things, inviting God to release peace and power into a huge complex of anxiety or illness.
So it is today, in any and every place where the Spirit of God is present through the Body of Christ. That’s us, Christ’s hands and feet and eyes and ears and voice of love in the world now. We have been given tremendous power through our access to God in the Spirit. So when we encounter someone afflicted in body, mind or spirit, we don’t have to think, “I’m not the right person.” We can just go, “Oh yeah, I know the right person. And he’ll show up any time I invoke his name. Come, Lord Jesus.” That is the ancient prayer, “Maranatha.” Come, Lord Jesus.
Today, keep inviting God to release healing love and power in you, where you’re hurting. And keep praising. And add a third thing: ask God to show you today someone for whom you are to pray, for whom you are to invite Jesus to release healing grace. It might be a person close to you, or someone you see on the news. You don’t have to offer to pray with them, though that’s always great. You can simply say, “Come Lord Jesus – here’s someone who needs you. Be here. Release your power and love in him, in her.”
God is with us seven days a week, 24 hours a day, at all times and in all places. God cannot be contained or constrained. The more we pray, the more God’s life breaks out and restores the world. Every day.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
8-21-25 - Honoring the Sabbath
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
If someone with a chronic disability became instantly healed during a worship service in my church, I would be thrilled and amazed. Not so much the leader of the synagogue in which Jesus healed the woman crippled for eighteen years: When Jesus laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day.”
It’s interesting that he addresses the crowd rather than Jesus directly. Is he genuinely concerned about a spiritual matter, or trying to get back the attention that has pivoted to his famous guest preacher? Or is he so frightened by this show of power that he can only retreat into the rules and regulations on which he has built his religion? Whatever his motives, he seems spectacularly unable to see the Life unfolding right in front of him.
This is a classic case of being correct and still wildly wrong. This leader is right that the Sabbath, ordained by God as a day set apart for worship, rest and recreation, is to be honored. He is completely wrong in defining healing as dishonoring “work.” As Jesus points out, we continue to care for and feed our families and animals on the Sabbath – because the Sabbath was made to celebrate life. Anything that increases life and expands our experience of God-Life is a suitable Sabbath activity. The passage from Isaiah appointed for Sunday defines“trampling the sabbath” as “pursuing your own interests.” Giving life, health, freedom, joy, peace, love to others honors God, and therefore honors God’s holy day.
The Sabbath is one of God’s greatest gifts to us, and we ignore it at our own peril – and often our ill health. When each day of the week looks the same as any other, we don’t recharge or relax in a meaningful way. The toxins of stress build up and poison our interactions with the world and those closest to us. Our ability to be creative and to see solutions to problems grows stunted. We need the Sabbath, and the world needs it – and I dare say God needs us refreshed and ready for participating in God’s mission.
Every day is a good day for healing. Every day is a good day to set the captives free. Every day is a good day to release the power of God to bring Life into the world. Where do you need to see that Life released today?
© 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 someone with a chronic disability became instantly healed during a worship service in my church, I would be thrilled and amazed. Not so much the leader of the synagogue in which Jesus healed the woman crippled for eighteen years: When Jesus laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day.”
It’s interesting that he addresses the crowd rather than Jesus directly. Is he genuinely concerned about a spiritual matter, or trying to get back the attention that has pivoted to his famous guest preacher? Or is he so frightened by this show of power that he can only retreat into the rules and regulations on which he has built his religion? Whatever his motives, he seems spectacularly unable to see the Life unfolding right in front of him.
This is a classic case of being correct and still wildly wrong. This leader is right that the Sabbath, ordained by God as a day set apart for worship, rest and recreation, is to be honored. He is completely wrong in defining healing as dishonoring “work.” As Jesus points out, we continue to care for and feed our families and animals on the Sabbath – because the Sabbath was made to celebrate life. Anything that increases life and expands our experience of God-Life is a suitable Sabbath activity. The passage from Isaiah appointed for Sunday defines“trampling the sabbath” as “pursuing your own interests.” Giving life, health, freedom, joy, peace, love to others honors God, and therefore honors God’s holy day.
The Sabbath is one of God’s greatest gifts to us, and we ignore it at our own peril – and often our ill health. When each day of the week looks the same as any other, we don’t recharge or relax in a meaningful way. The toxins of stress build up and poison our interactions with the world and those closest to us. Our ability to be creative and to see solutions to problems grows stunted. We need the Sabbath, and the world needs it – and I dare say God needs us refreshed and ready for participating in God’s mission.
Every day is a good day for healing. Every day is a good day to set the captives free. Every day is a good day to release the power of God to bring Life into the world. Where do you need to see that Life released today?
© 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.
8-19-25 - You Are Set Free
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Yesterday I invited us to think about an area in life in which we feel stuck; a condition or limitation we just live with because we don’t think anything can be done – which is like saying that thing is more powerful than God. Most likely the woman in our story, bent over with a damaged spine for eighteen years, thought that was her future. The gospel writer says she was afflicted by an evil spirit. She may have been told it was the result of sin. In some Christian circles she might be told her suffering was a way of coming closer to God, an honor, a test, a blessing even.
Jesus told her, “Here’s something we can heal.” When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God.
It is his first instinct – “Let's take care of that.” He doesn’t deliberate and wonder if it’s “God’s will." He knows illness and disability are not God’s intention for us. We don't always see healing as immediately as in this story; often it’s more gradual. But we can trust that it is God’s will that we be whole, even when we do not see that wholeness fully manifest in this life, for bodies and minds do sustain damage. We see it more when often as we trust that wholeness is the will of our God whom we call One and Perfect. How could such a One desire less than wholeness for us?
Freedom is also God’s desire for us, and for this world. Jesus said he had come to proclaim release to the captives. Any time we’re unsure of God’s will in a given situation, we can ask where we sense the most freedom and pray toward that. This does not mean we don’t honor commitments to relationships or jobs, which can at times feel like they impinge on our personal freedom. It means we look for where God is inviting us to be free within those commitments. If our workday is confining, we plan in times for a restorative walk or rest. If church feels like a burden, we make sure there are some activities in which we are just nurtured, not working. If our movement is constricted by disability, we pray for healing and restoration.
What came up when you thought about something you’re stuck with, that God could release you from? Bring that to Jesus in prayer. Invite the power and love that made the universe to be released in you, in your body, your mind, your spirit. And expect that the living water of God is flowing and bringing new life to you wherever you need it most.
“For freedom, God has made us free,” Paul reminded the Galatians (5:1). We honor God when we accept that gift every time God offers 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.
Yesterday I invited us to think about an area in life in which we feel stuck; a condition or limitation we just live with because we don’t think anything can be done – which is like saying that thing is more powerful than God. Most likely the woman in our story, bent over with a damaged spine for eighteen years, thought that was her future. The gospel writer says she was afflicted by an evil spirit. She may have been told it was the result of sin. In some Christian circles she might be told her suffering was a way of coming closer to God, an honor, a test, a blessing even.
Jesus told her, “Here’s something we can heal.” When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God.
It is his first instinct – “Let's take care of that.” He doesn’t deliberate and wonder if it’s “God’s will." He knows illness and disability are not God’s intention for us. We don't always see healing as immediately as in this story; often it’s more gradual. But we can trust that it is God’s will that we be whole, even when we do not see that wholeness fully manifest in this life, for bodies and minds do sustain damage. We see it more when often as we trust that wholeness is the will of our God whom we call One and Perfect. How could such a One desire less than wholeness for us?
Freedom is also God’s desire for us, and for this world. Jesus said he had come to proclaim release to the captives. Any time we’re unsure of God’s will in a given situation, we can ask where we sense the most freedom and pray toward that. This does not mean we don’t honor commitments to relationships or jobs, which can at times feel like they impinge on our personal freedom. It means we look for where God is inviting us to be free within those commitments. If our workday is confining, we plan in times for a restorative walk or rest. If church feels like a burden, we make sure there are some activities in which we are just nurtured, not working. If our movement is constricted by disability, we pray for healing and restoration.
What came up when you thought about something you’re stuck with, that God could release you from? Bring that to Jesus in prayer. Invite the power and love that made the universe to be released in you, in your body, your mind, your spirit. And expect that the living water of God is flowing and bringing new life to you wherever you need it most.
“For freedom, God has made us free,” Paul reminded the Galatians (5:1). We honor God when we accept that gift every time God offers 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.
6-19-25 - Fear of God
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As an animal lover, with a soft spot for pigs (though also for bacon and pork chops), I have to admit I abhor the next part of our story: Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned. When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country.
Maybe Jesus, as a Jew, had little use for the value of swine. But why did the demons have to go into anything? Couldn’t he command them into the lake without the pigs? Couldn’t he command them back to hell and bind them? All I do know is that the news spread quickly. (And here comes an echo of another iconic bible story – Jesus’ birth, and sheep herders running off and telling the wondrous things they’d seen to everyone they met...)
As the news spread, the townspeople came running to see. They were amazed as well as frightened – but not so much at the destruction of the herd. What scared them to the core was the transformation in the man who had been possessed by the legion of demons.
Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid.
It was not the economic loss or property damage that frightened them – it was the damage to their sense of reality, this glimpse into the raw power of God as conducted by Jesus. It was having their convictions about what is possible overturned right before their very eyes that frightened the daylights out of them. It was having their conceptions about this man and his place in their community completely shattered. He was even wearing clothes! What happened?
The next thing we know, they’re asking Jesus to leave, “for they were seized with great fear.” Don’t we often want to separate ourselves from what we don’t understand, what frightens us? That is the root of so much prejudice and hatred, division and conflict.
Have you seen someone transformed by healing? People who know addicts in recovery sometimes get to see this kind of contrast, though not in the course of a single day. Those who work with wounded veterans and the mentally ill sometimes see such transformation. If we saw it instantaneously, it would scare us too.
When we find ourselves afraid of God’s power, we can talk to God about it. We can ask the Spirit to gently lead us into a greater awareness of what God can do and has done. If only those townspeople had taken this miracle as an invitation to expand their ideas of this God they did not know instead of sending Jesus away, so much more healing and transformation might have taken place. Let’s not make their mistake.
© 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 an animal lover, with a soft spot for pigs (though also for bacon and pork chops), I have to admit I abhor the next part of our story: Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned. When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country.
Maybe Jesus, as a Jew, had little use for the value of swine. But why did the demons have to go into anything? Couldn’t he command them into the lake without the pigs? Couldn’t he command them back to hell and bind them? All I do know is that the news spread quickly. (And here comes an echo of another iconic bible story – Jesus’ birth, and sheep herders running off and telling the wondrous things they’d seen to everyone they met...)
As the news spread, the townspeople came running to see. They were amazed as well as frightened – but not so much at the destruction of the herd. What scared them to the core was the transformation in the man who had been possessed by the legion of demons.
Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid.
It was not the economic loss or property damage that frightened them – it was the damage to their sense of reality, this glimpse into the raw power of God as conducted by Jesus. It was having their convictions about what is possible overturned right before their very eyes that frightened the daylights out of them. It was having their conceptions about this man and his place in their community completely shattered. He was even wearing clothes! What happened?
The next thing we know, they’re asking Jesus to leave, “for they were seized with great fear.” Don’t we often want to separate ourselves from what we don’t understand, what frightens us? That is the root of so much prejudice and hatred, division and conflict.
Have you seen someone transformed by healing? People who know addicts in recovery sometimes get to see this kind of contrast, though not in the course of a single day. Those who work with wounded veterans and the mentally ill sometimes see such transformation. If we saw it instantaneously, it would scare us too.
When we find ourselves afraid of God’s power, we can talk to God about it. We can ask the Spirit to gently lead us into a greater awareness of what God can do and has done. If only those townspeople had taken this miracle as an invitation to expand their ideas of this God they did not know instead of sending Jesus away, so much more healing and transformation might have taken place. Let’s not make their mistake.
© 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.
6-17-25 - Living Among the Dead
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Talk about your welcome wagon – the first person to greet Jesus and his disciples as their boat docked in Gentile territory was someone considered the “local loco.”
As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him. For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me”— for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.)
Each time we reread Scripture a different word or phrase might snag our attention, new echoes or resonances ring their chimes. The phrase, “he did not live in a house but in the tombs” sets off in my mind the words of the angel outside Jesus’ tomb on Easter morning, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?”
This man, so beset by the demons in residence in him, had long ago ceased to live in any meaningful way. Naked, but for the times he was bound and chained by his neighbors; crazed; desperately alone; no doubt terrified and constantly barraged by the voices inside him, it is no wonder he sought the quiet and isolation of the burial ground. Perhaps he longed to join his silent companions in death.
Yet there was enough life in him to get him down to the shore that morning. There was enough “self” left in his spirit for Jesus to project his strength into. He did not belong among the dead, but among the living. Jesus is always in the business of life, and as his followers that is our calling too.
I have known people so deep in depression they were nearly catatonic, hospitalized. And I have seen Jesus bring them back to life, through prayers, visits, even my refusal to accept this end for them. I have been a conduit for Jesus’ Spirit to strengthen their spirits until they were whole enough to return to the living. I can think of two or three off the top of my head. This power is real.
What “dead places” are you aware of in your surroundings, or among your relationships? Who do you know who is "living among the dead" – emotionally or otherwise – surrounded by toxic people or ideologies, or deep in death-dealing activities? How might God be inviting you to bring life into those circumstances, to call these people back into life?
In the life of the Christ-follower, every day is Easter morning. Every day we seek the living among the living.
Talk about your welcome wagon – the first person to greet Jesus and his disciples as their boat docked in Gentile territory was someone considered the “local loco.”
As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him. For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me”— for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.)
Each time we reread Scripture a different word or phrase might snag our attention, new echoes or resonances ring their chimes. The phrase, “he did not live in a house but in the tombs” sets off in my mind the words of the angel outside Jesus’ tomb on Easter morning, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?”
This man, so beset by the demons in residence in him, had long ago ceased to live in any meaningful way. Naked, but for the times he was bound and chained by his neighbors; crazed; desperately alone; no doubt terrified and constantly barraged by the voices inside him, it is no wonder he sought the quiet and isolation of the burial ground. Perhaps he longed to join his silent companions in death.
Yet there was enough life in him to get him down to the shore that morning. There was enough “self” left in his spirit for Jesus to project his strength into. He did not belong among the dead, but among the living. Jesus is always in the business of life, and as his followers that is our calling too.
I have known people so deep in depression they were nearly catatonic, hospitalized. And I have seen Jesus bring them back to life, through prayers, visits, even my refusal to accept this end for them. I have been a conduit for Jesus’ Spirit to strengthen their spirits until they were whole enough to return to the living. I can think of two or three off the top of my head. This power is real.
What “dead places” are you aware of in your surroundings, or among your relationships? Who do you know who is "living among the dead" – emotionally or otherwise – surrounded by toxic people or ideologies, or deep in death-dealing activities? How might God be inviting you to bring life into those circumstances, to call these people back into life?
In the life of the Christ-follower, every day is Easter morning. Every day we seek the living among the living.
6-16-25 - The Other Side
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The life of faith always includes a call to the Other – the other side, the other perspective, the other who is a stranger – and perhaps also strange. This was certainly true for Jesus, who was pretty much always on the move, along with his disciples. In this week’s story, he takes them on a short journey to a far-away land: Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him.
Before we enter this rich and multi-faceted tale, let’s look at the set-up. Jesus and his disciples cross the Sea of Galilee: One day Jesus got into a boat with his disciples, and he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side of the lake.”
They were leaving familiar territory and going to the “Ten Cities,” Gentile land, where dwelt foreigners, non-Jews, “others.” The other side. The land beyond. Do we hear echoes of the “other world,” that Kingdom place Jesus was always talking about? That realm sharing time and space with this one, yet completely Other, contained in no time or space as we know it; where our rules don’t apply?
We might see Jesus’ incarnation this way. He crossed to the Other Side, to this realm from that celestial home. He brought with him the practices and “rules” of that realm and invited us to see them at work in this one. He came here to make it possible for us to cross into God-Life, and to take God-Life to the “other sides” in our world.
Only three words, “the other side,” but they invite us into The Story. Anything can happen on the other side. It might be scary. It might be exciting. It might change your life, or you might change someone else’s. Indeed, the first “other” Jesus encounters is not only Gentile; he is also seriously possessed by the demonic. There is need for healing and deliverance in this land, cause for fear, cause for faith.
What if your story today started, “One day Jesus got into a boat with me and said, ‘Let’s go to the other side.’” Where might that be? Would you be happy to go? In prayer, imagine your conversation with Jesus in that boat. “Where are we going?” "Why can’t we stay here?” “What do you want me to do when we get there?” I don’t know the answers to those questions, but I believe it will be a rich way of praying. And I know Jesus will go with us wherever he asks us to go.
As I prepare to pick up and move yet again, this time to another country, north and way, way east, I am reminded that the life of God does not seem to include a lot of staying put. We settle just long enough to share the Good News and see it catch, and then we’re led to the next place or activity or relationship or initiative. And that new thing is almost always among the Other. How else can the Other become our friend?
The life of faith always includes a call to the Other – the other side, the other perspective, the other who is a stranger – and perhaps also strange. This was certainly true for Jesus, who was pretty much always on the move, along with his disciples. In this week’s story, he takes them on a short journey to a far-away land: Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him.
Before we enter this rich and multi-faceted tale, let’s look at the set-up. Jesus and his disciples cross the Sea of Galilee: One day Jesus got into a boat with his disciples, and he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side of the lake.”
They were leaving familiar territory and going to the “Ten Cities,” Gentile land, where dwelt foreigners, non-Jews, “others.” The other side. The land beyond. Do we hear echoes of the “other world,” that Kingdom place Jesus was always talking about? That realm sharing time and space with this one, yet completely Other, contained in no time or space as we know it; where our rules don’t apply?
We might see Jesus’ incarnation this way. He crossed to the Other Side, to this realm from that celestial home. He brought with him the practices and “rules” of that realm and invited us to see them at work in this one. He came here to make it possible for us to cross into God-Life, and to take God-Life to the “other sides” in our world.
Only three words, “the other side,” but they invite us into The Story. Anything can happen on the other side. It might be scary. It might be exciting. It might change your life, or you might change someone else’s. Indeed, the first “other” Jesus encounters is not only Gentile; he is also seriously possessed by the demonic. There is need for healing and deliverance in this land, cause for fear, cause for faith.
What if your story today started, “One day Jesus got into a boat with me and said, ‘Let’s go to the other side.’” Where might that be? Would you be happy to go? In prayer, imagine your conversation with Jesus in that boat. “Where are we going?” "Why can’t we stay here?” “What do you want me to do when we get there?” I don’t know the answers to those questions, but I believe it will be a rich way of praying. And I know Jesus will go with us wherever he asks us to go.
As I prepare to pick up and move yet again, this time to another country, north and way, way east, I am reminded that the life of God does not seem to include a lot of staying put. We settle just long enough to share the Good News and see it catch, and then we’re led to the next place or activity or relationship or initiative. And that new thing is almost always among the Other. How else can the Other become our friend?
* I am happy to announce that I have been called to serve on the staff of the Cathedral Church of All Saints in Halifax, Nova Scotia, focusing on congregational life and community engagement. I move mid-July.
© 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.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
5-23-25 - Healing of the Nations
You can listen to this reflection here.
We move now from the healing of persons to the healing of the nations; from the pool of healing in our Gospel story to the healing river mentioned in the end of Revelation: Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.
What a beautiful picture of the new heavens and the new earth, picking up on the vision of a restoring river in Ezekiel 47, which also had fruit trees on each bank, their leaves for healing. In the new vision the healing has been broadened to the healing of the nations.
We move now from the healing of persons to the healing of the nations; from the pool of healing in our Gospel story to the healing river mentioned in the end of Revelation: Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.
What a beautiful picture of the new heavens and the new earth, picking up on the vision of a restoring river in Ezekiel 47, which also had fruit trees on each bank, their leaves for healing. In the new vision the healing has been broadened to the healing of the nations.
This resonates with a theme in our reading from Acts as well: ...Paul had a vision: there stood a man of Macedonia pleading with him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” When he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to cross over to Macedonia, being convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them.
Does the healing power of Christ extend to nations? There is only one way to find out. Perhaps we feel feeble in our prayers for peace and an end to brutal invasion, terror and starvation, oppression and exploitation, because the needs are so vast, the pain so entrenched. It is hard to see dramatic outcomes to such prayers. The bigger the wound, the more complex the condition, the longer it can take to heal it – but our prayers do not go unheard. Maybe through our prayers we strengthen peace-makers. Maybe our prayers influence people in authority, or grass-roots activists. Maybe circumstances change. We don’t know – we only know that the healing stream that flows through and around us is intended for the whole world.
Maybe each day we should comb the news for one name in a conflict-ridden area, one name that leaps out at us, and make it our task to pray for that person to be fully blessed.
When Paul and his companions acted on his vision and traveled to Macedonia, they found a river there, by which there was a place of prayer. And there they met a woman named Lydia, who was brought to faith in Jesus Christ through Paul’s words, and she and her whole household were baptized. No one would have expected that – but strangers now became family in faith. Who knows what fruit came of that encounter – generations of Christ-followers, perhaps.
We don’t know where the healing stream is to flow, but It is up to us to be water-carriers, bearing that water of life to every place and person in need of it. In the end, all nations will be healed, and God will reign.
© 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.
Does the healing power of Christ extend to nations? There is only one way to find out. Perhaps we feel feeble in our prayers for peace and an end to brutal invasion, terror and starvation, oppression and exploitation, because the needs are so vast, the pain so entrenched. It is hard to see dramatic outcomes to such prayers. The bigger the wound, the more complex the condition, the longer it can take to heal it – but our prayers do not go unheard. Maybe through our prayers we strengthen peace-makers. Maybe our prayers influence people in authority, or grass-roots activists. Maybe circumstances change. We don’t know – we only know that the healing stream that flows through and around us is intended for the whole world.
Maybe each day we should comb the news for one name in a conflict-ridden area, one name that leaps out at us, and make it our task to pray for that person to be fully blessed.
When Paul and his companions acted on his vision and traveled to Macedonia, they found a river there, by which there was a place of prayer. And there they met a woman named Lydia, who was brought to faith in Jesus Christ through Paul’s words, and she and her whole household were baptized. No one would have expected that – but strangers now became family in faith. Who knows what fruit came of that encounter – generations of Christ-followers, perhaps.
We don’t know where the healing stream is to flow, but It is up to us to be water-carriers, bearing that water of life to every place and person in need of it. In the end, all nations will be healed, and God will reign.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
5-22-25 - Walk
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I was privileged to know Canon Jim Glennon, an Anglican clergyman from Australia who had an extraordinary gift and ministry of healing. We corresponded quite a bit before he died, and I invited him to lead a healing mission at my church in New York. I will never forget his clear, simple teaching about God’s healing: plant the seed of faith, in Christ; give thanks for God’s activity, even before you see it (“first the blade, then the ear, then the full corn…” he’d quote); and don’t be afraid to test it.
At that healing mission, to demonstrate his teaching, he asked if someone with severe back pain would come up for prayer, and a man did. The process by which Jim prayed, then checked in, then responded to the feedback is an incredible story in itself; it included the man’s realization that he needed to forgive the person who’d caused his injury. But after he prayed to release that, and we prayed some more, Jim asked the man how his pain was now, and he said, “It’s gone! It’s been with me for 15 years, and it’s gone!” “Well, twist around,” Jim said. “Move your back. Try it out. Get up and walk.” One of the ways we accept the healing God offers us is by moving into it.
Jesus said to him, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk.
I was privileged to know Canon Jim Glennon, an Anglican clergyman from Australia who had an extraordinary gift and ministry of healing. We corresponded quite a bit before he died, and I invited him to lead a healing mission at my church in New York. I will never forget his clear, simple teaching about God’s healing: plant the seed of faith, in Christ; give thanks for God’s activity, even before you see it (“first the blade, then the ear, then the full corn…” he’d quote); and don’t be afraid to test it.
At that healing mission, to demonstrate his teaching, he asked if someone with severe back pain would come up for prayer, and a man did. The process by which Jim prayed, then checked in, then responded to the feedback is an incredible story in itself; it included the man’s realization that he needed to forgive the person who’d caused his injury. But after he prayed to release that, and we prayed some more, Jim asked the man how his pain was now, and he said, “It’s gone! It’s been with me for 15 years, and it’s gone!” “Well, twist around,” Jim said. “Move your back. Try it out. Get up and walk.” One of the ways we accept the healing God offers us is by moving into it.
Jesus said to him, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk.
Sometimes we pray for healing or transformation, and think God has not answered. And why do we think that? Because we haven’t moved! We’re still sitting in our dis-ease and sometimes despair and mistrust, still seeing the matter from the same angle, perhaps influenced by disappointments in the past. But as we get up and move around, we have to see it differently, for our position changes.
We can assume that God has heard our prayers, and assume that the God who loves and desires freedom and wholeness for us is indeed acting in and through us. So we give thanks even before we see the fullness of the healing we desire. We begin to walk, to move ourselves into the healing stream of God’s love and power. Maybe we limp at first; maybe we move cautiously; but we are to move toward that freedom and wholeness, our attention fixed not on our remaining symptoms but on the unwavering love of God in Jesus Christ.
God’s healing stream is that Living Water Jesus promised would well up inside us to eternal life. And God’s healing stream is that mighty river of God Life that flows around us as we move in the Spirit. If the flow is impeded by anxiety or anger or unforgiveness or unhealed trauma, we invite the Spirit to help remove those obstacles. It is remarkable how much healing can happen even as we’re getting free of some of these impediments.
Today, pray for healing in whatever area you’ve been considering this week. (Or pray with another – the faith of two is stronger than one). Believe that God desires wholeness and freedom for you, whatever that will look like. Give thanks for God's activity even before you see the fruits. And then begin to walk in faith, into healing. First the blade, then the ear, then the fullness of life!
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
We can assume that God has heard our prayers, and assume that the God who loves and desires freedom and wholeness for us is indeed acting in and through us. So we give thanks even before we see the fullness of the healing we desire. We begin to walk, to move ourselves into the healing stream of God’s love and power. Maybe we limp at first; maybe we move cautiously; but we are to move toward that freedom and wholeness, our attention fixed not on our remaining symptoms but on the unwavering love of God in Jesus Christ.
God’s healing stream is that Living Water Jesus promised would well up inside us to eternal life. And God’s healing stream is that mighty river of God Life that flows around us as we move in the Spirit. If the flow is impeded by anxiety or anger or unforgiveness or unhealed trauma, we invite the Spirit to help remove those obstacles. It is remarkable how much healing can happen even as we’re getting free of some of these impediments.
Today, pray for healing in whatever area you’ve been considering this week. (Or pray with another – the faith of two is stronger than one). Believe that God desires wholeness and freedom for you, whatever that will look like. Give thanks for God's activity even before you see the fruits. And then begin to walk in faith, into healing. First the blade, then the ear, then the fullness of life!
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
5-21-25 - Another Way
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I once knew someone whose life had become a living hell. So many traumas and losses had accrued, exacerbated by and exacerbating physical and mental illness, family and financial troubles, she was like a fly caught in the web of a very busy spider. Listening to her tales of woe, I didn’t know where to begin; she was sure no good outcome was possible.
Isn’t there always a good reason to lose hope? We don’t have the support we need; something came up that derailed us; we’re in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong people. The sick man in this week’s gospel story laid the blame for his continued infirmity on the other sick people around him who, he said, never let him get into the healing waters when they were stirred: The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.” Jesus said to him, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.”
I love Jesus’ response: he says nothing about the pool; he doesn’t tell the man to stop feeling sorry for himself; he doesn’t advise how to compete with the other people. He simply gives a command that has the power to effect what it commands: “Stand up, take your mat, walk.”
I wonder how these words landed on this man, so sure there was only one dim possibility for reversal, if he could get into that pool at the right moment. Did he think Jesus was mocking him? Crazy? Or did he feel a sensation in his body and limbs that told him something was awakening, something had changed? Did he worry what people would think if he attempted to stand? We don’t know; we’re told only that he did stand and began to walk.
This man did not heal himself. He did not change his attitude and become more open to healing. This was Jesus’ work entirely. That’s important for us, both as we seek healing for ourselves, and as we minister to others. We don’t have to put ourselves or others into the right frame of mind. We only need to bring Jesus into the picture and believe in his presence. And if we hear a command – we may not always – we act on it.
If you were to tell Jesus in prayer today about the most “stuck” area of your life, the one about which you feel the most despair, what would it be? Try it, and try listening inwardly for a response. It might come through a word that fixes in your mind, or an image or scene, or you might find yourself sitting or walking with Jesus in your imagination. Whatever unfolds, go with it. Do you think Jesus will discuss your reasons for stuck-ness with you? Or will he just command you to be free?
In the life of God there is always another way healing can come. It may come through prayer, or medical care, or new information, or none or all of the above. We are to take the actions before us, but not get tied to them. At any moment, even thirty-eight years later, Jesus can come into our picture and set us free. He doesn’t have to untangle the spider’s web; he has only to command it in love, and the bonds fall away. As we invite him in, healing can come that much sooner.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
I once knew someone whose life had become a living hell. So many traumas and losses had accrued, exacerbated by and exacerbating physical and mental illness, family and financial troubles, she was like a fly caught in the web of a very busy spider. Listening to her tales of woe, I didn’t know where to begin; she was sure no good outcome was possible.
Isn’t there always a good reason to lose hope? We don’t have the support we need; something came up that derailed us; we’re in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong people. The sick man in this week’s gospel story laid the blame for his continued infirmity on the other sick people around him who, he said, never let him get into the healing waters when they were stirred: The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.” Jesus said to him, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.”
I love Jesus’ response: he says nothing about the pool; he doesn’t tell the man to stop feeling sorry for himself; he doesn’t advise how to compete with the other people. He simply gives a command that has the power to effect what it commands: “Stand up, take your mat, walk.”
I wonder how these words landed on this man, so sure there was only one dim possibility for reversal, if he could get into that pool at the right moment. Did he think Jesus was mocking him? Crazy? Or did he feel a sensation in his body and limbs that told him something was awakening, something had changed? Did he worry what people would think if he attempted to stand? We don’t know; we’re told only that he did stand and began to walk.
This man did not heal himself. He did not change his attitude and become more open to healing. This was Jesus’ work entirely. That’s important for us, both as we seek healing for ourselves, and as we minister to others. We don’t have to put ourselves or others into the right frame of mind. We only need to bring Jesus into the picture and believe in his presence. And if we hear a command – we may not always – we act on it.
If you were to tell Jesus in prayer today about the most “stuck” area of your life, the one about which you feel the most despair, what would it be? Try it, and try listening inwardly for a response. It might come through a word that fixes in your mind, or an image or scene, or you might find yourself sitting or walking with Jesus in your imagination. Whatever unfolds, go with it. Do you think Jesus will discuss your reasons for stuck-ness with you? Or will he just command you to be free?
In the life of God there is always another way healing can come. It may come through prayer, or medical care, or new information, or none or all of the above. We are to take the actions before us, but not get tied to them. At any moment, even thirty-eight years later, Jesus can come into our picture and set us free. He doesn’t have to untangle the spider’s web; he has only to command it in love, and the bonds fall away. As we invite him in, healing can come that much sooner.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
5-20-25 - Do You Want Healing?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
It can be scary to ask for healing. Alarmed as we might be by illness, symptoms, loss of freedom and mobility, or even approaching death, it can be even more daunting to ask for God’s transforming power to effect a change. What if God doesn’t answer in a way we can recognize? Then, in addition to the scourge of illness, our faith has taken a hit. This fear is enough to keep many people stuck in infirmity: One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be made well?”
It’s a fair question. I have wanted to ask it of quite a few people, and maybe some have wanted to ask it of me. Thirty-eight years seems like a long time to endure illness, but dis-ease can easily become a habit. I’ve known robust, active people rendered prematurely homebound by pain or difficulty moving around as they used to; it seems to the people around them that they’ve given up way too soon – but the shock of limitations deals its own blows to the psyche.
We don’t know the circumstances of the man in our story; he comes off as a bit of a whiner. But whiners take to whining because no one listens to them, and perhaps this man had good reasons why his illness became chronic. And once that became his way of life, and possibly his livelihood through the charity of others, he may no longer have been able to imagine himself well. After all, when we are sick all our energy goes into getting through the day; we don’t have much left for imagining wellness or praying for healing.
But God can always imagine us well. God’s desire for us is wholeness. Perhaps the first prayer we make is not “Heal me,” but “Show me your vision of me whole.” Perhaps in prayer we imagine Jesus looking at us and asking, “Do you want to be made well?” in whatever area of our life we feel broken or wounded.
And answer honestly. Do you want to be healed? Do I? Are there advantages to our conditions, physical, emotional or spiritual; attention we get, or ways in which expectations are comfortably lowered, responsibilities shifted to other people? Are there relationships that would be upset if we were healed and whole?
The power to heal comes from God, and has already been given to us, as Christ lives in us through baptism. The question for us is what impedes the flow of that healing stream in and around us? What keeps us on the banks of that stream, afraid to jump in? Knowing that can help release the Love that restores us to wholeness.
© 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 can be scary to ask for healing. Alarmed as we might be by illness, symptoms, loss of freedom and mobility, or even approaching death, it can be even more daunting to ask for God’s transforming power to effect a change. What if God doesn’t answer in a way we can recognize? Then, in addition to the scourge of illness, our faith has taken a hit. This fear is enough to keep many people stuck in infirmity: One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be made well?”
It’s a fair question. I have wanted to ask it of quite a few people, and maybe some have wanted to ask it of me. Thirty-eight years seems like a long time to endure illness, but dis-ease can easily become a habit. I’ve known robust, active people rendered prematurely homebound by pain or difficulty moving around as they used to; it seems to the people around them that they’ve given up way too soon – but the shock of limitations deals its own blows to the psyche.
We don’t know the circumstances of the man in our story; he comes off as a bit of a whiner. But whiners take to whining because no one listens to them, and perhaps this man had good reasons why his illness became chronic. And once that became his way of life, and possibly his livelihood through the charity of others, he may no longer have been able to imagine himself well. After all, when we are sick all our energy goes into getting through the day; we don’t have much left for imagining wellness or praying for healing.
But God can always imagine us well. God’s desire for us is wholeness. Perhaps the first prayer we make is not “Heal me,” but “Show me your vision of me whole.” Perhaps in prayer we imagine Jesus looking at us and asking, “Do you want to be made well?” in whatever area of our life we feel broken or wounded.
And answer honestly. Do you want to be healed? Do I? Are there advantages to our conditions, physical, emotional or spiritual; attention we get, or ways in which expectations are comfortably lowered, responsibilities shifted to other people? Are there relationships that would be upset if we were healed and whole?
The power to heal comes from God, and has already been given to us, as Christ lives in us through baptism. The question for us is what impedes the flow of that healing stream in and around us? What keeps us on the banks of that stream, afraid to jump in? Knowing that can help release the Love that restores us to wholeness.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
5-19-25 - Faint Hopes
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Context is everything. If you heard about a bunch of people lying around a pool every day, you might think it a place of joy and leisure. This place was anything but. This was a spot where invalids gathered, drawn by a tradition that said healing could be found when the pool’s waters were stirred: Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years.
The invalids may have been there for several reasons – perhaps it was a good place for their caretakers to park them for the day, where they could keep one another company. People blemished or infirm in any way were considered ritually unclean and thus unfit for entry into the temple courts where they might defile others. It was a harsh, isolating life for the blind, the lame, the paralyzed, with no promise of medical treatment. We are told that the man at the center of this week’s story had been ill for thirty-eight years; how many of those had he spent in this place? This faint hope of healing in the pool must have kept them going one day to the next, a community of invalids stuck together by misery, hope and occasional blessing.
You don’t have to be blind, lame or paralyzed to know the power of faint hope. Usually when people say, “I’m hoping for the best…” they have long since abandoned any hope for the best and have settled for a dim “maybe things will change…” Often we will endure unhappy or unfulfilling circumstances for far longer than we should because of our stubborn hope that something could change. And often the only thing likely to cause a positive change is our changing the way we engage that situation.
As we begin to explore this story, let’s bring to mind the places we feel stuck or running on fumes. Where in your life might clinging to a faint hope actually be blocking movement toward a more robust change?
Who do you know who puts up with circumstances that could perhaps be altered – enduring pain or misconnection or half-life because it seems too scary or difficult to seek a better strategy? This story might give us some clues into how we might facilitate some movement in our stories of stuck-ness.
The invalids gathered at that pool were hoping for the best without knowing what the best really was – that the Best walked into their midst that day when Jesus showed up. Even we who know his power sometimes hesitate to hope for his best in our lives. And to us he whispers, “Let me show you!”
© 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.
Context is everything. If you heard about a bunch of people lying around a pool every day, you might think it a place of joy and leisure. This place was anything but. This was a spot where invalids gathered, drawn by a tradition that said healing could be found when the pool’s waters were stirred: Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years.
The invalids may have been there for several reasons – perhaps it was a good place for their caretakers to park them for the day, where they could keep one another company. People blemished or infirm in any way were considered ritually unclean and thus unfit for entry into the temple courts where they might defile others. It was a harsh, isolating life for the blind, the lame, the paralyzed, with no promise of medical treatment. We are told that the man at the center of this week’s story had been ill for thirty-eight years; how many of those had he spent in this place? This faint hope of healing in the pool must have kept them going one day to the next, a community of invalids stuck together by misery, hope and occasional blessing.
You don’t have to be blind, lame or paralyzed to know the power of faint hope. Usually when people say, “I’m hoping for the best…” they have long since abandoned any hope for the best and have settled for a dim “maybe things will change…” Often we will endure unhappy or unfulfilling circumstances for far longer than we should because of our stubborn hope that something could change. And often the only thing likely to cause a positive change is our changing the way we engage that situation.
As we begin to explore this story, let’s bring to mind the places we feel stuck or running on fumes. Where in your life might clinging to a faint hope actually be blocking movement toward a more robust change?
Who do you know who puts up with circumstances that could perhaps be altered – enduring pain or misconnection or half-life because it seems too scary or difficult to seek a better strategy? This story might give us some clues into how we might facilitate some movement in our stories of stuck-ness.
The invalids gathered at that pool were hoping for the best without knowing what the best really was – that the Best walked into their midst that day when Jesus showed up. Even we who know his power sometimes hesitate to hope for his best in our lives. And to us he whispers, “Let me show you!”
© 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.
2-10-25 - Hearing and Healing
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
We are coming to that part of Jesus’ story where we see his ministry gathering steam. Everywhere he goes he draws crowds – sometimes so many, he has to be creative about where to stand so he can be seen and heard. He has also come to the point of organizing his growing community of followers. In the story just before this one he spends the night on a mountain in prayer and chooses twelve men to be his closest disciples. Now he comes down and enters the fray once more: He came down with them and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases..
People came from far and wide to see Jesus, Jews and Gentiles alike. They came both to hear him, and to be healed by him. Hearing and healing – such similar words, yet distinct activities we don’t always put together. But often Jesus spoke healing upon people. He didn’t always touch, and he rarely prayed; he just pronounced healing with his voice. Hearing was how the healing was received.
People also found healing in his teaching. He proclaimed the nearness of God, and God’s power to deliver them from captivity of every kind, captivity to poverty, power, demons, disease. No doubt hearing him awakened their faith and made them more receptive to healing and release. It’s no accident that every time Jesus sends his disciples out in mission he commands them to “proclaim the Gospel and heal the sick.” These two activities go hand in hand, the proclamation enabling the healing, the healing confirming the proclamation. A church that does not keep these ministries at equal strength weakens its ministry and undermines its effectiveness as an agent of the Good News.
Healing should be a regular and visible part of a congregation's life. And proclamation need be no more than people’s stories of God’s healing power and love. Our stories are how the Gospel spreads. Our stories of God’s activity quickens the faith of others – just read any of a number of excellent books on Christian healing (email me if you want a list), and see how reading those stories emboldens you to invite God to release his healing stream in your life.
People still want to hear from Jesus, the Jesus we meet in the Gospels. And they want to be whole. If we make both his Word and his Power known in our ministries, many will hear and to be healed.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
We are coming to that part of Jesus’ story where we see his ministry gathering steam. Everywhere he goes he draws crowds – sometimes so many, he has to be creative about where to stand so he can be seen and heard. He has also come to the point of organizing his growing community of followers. In the story just before this one he spends the night on a mountain in prayer and chooses twelve men to be his closest disciples. Now he comes down and enters the fray once more: He came down with them and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases..
People came from far and wide to see Jesus, Jews and Gentiles alike. They came both to hear him, and to be healed by him. Hearing and healing – such similar words, yet distinct activities we don’t always put together. But often Jesus spoke healing upon people. He didn’t always touch, and he rarely prayed; he just pronounced healing with his voice. Hearing was how the healing was received.
People also found healing in his teaching. He proclaimed the nearness of God, and God’s power to deliver them from captivity of every kind, captivity to poverty, power, demons, disease. No doubt hearing him awakened their faith and made them more receptive to healing and release. It’s no accident that every time Jesus sends his disciples out in mission he commands them to “proclaim the Gospel and heal the sick.” These two activities go hand in hand, the proclamation enabling the healing, the healing confirming the proclamation. A church that does not keep these ministries at equal strength weakens its ministry and undermines its effectiveness as an agent of the Good News.
Healing should be a regular and visible part of a congregation's life. And proclamation need be no more than people’s stories of God’s healing power and love. Our stories are how the Gospel spreads. Our stories of God’s activity quickens the faith of others – just read any of a number of excellent books on Christian healing (email me if you want a list), and see how reading those stories emboldens you to invite God to release his healing stream in your life.
People still want to hear from Jesus, the Jesus we meet in the Gospels. And they want to be whole. If we make both his Word and his Power known in our ministries, many will hear and to be healed.
© 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.
10-25-24 - The New, New Story
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Stories function in interesting ways for many people. While we generally love a new story, something we haven’t encountered before, we are also very attached to the stories we already know. “I love to tell the story,” goes the old-time gospel hymn, “The old, old story of Jesus and his love.”
Yet that “old, old story” is ever becoming new in our lives. In order to really accept healing and freedom and renewal, we need to be able to believe a different narrative than the one that has defined our lives so far, a different story than the one the world or our parents or our society has told us. We are often bound by what we have experienced as “normal.” Jesus’ gift is to show us the new normal, to show us what we can be.
Bartimaeus believed this story he had heard about Jesus, and it gave him power to walk out of his old story into the new. The blind man said to him, "My teacher, let me see again.’" Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
That meant giving up a certain kind of identity, a certain degree of security. Walking into our new stories always does. That’s why we often stay stuck in situations that are less than what God might have for us.
What old stories have defined you for too long? One way to get at that question is with this one: What are you pretending not to know?
Stories function in interesting ways for many people. While we generally love a new story, something we haven’t encountered before, we are also very attached to the stories we already know. “I love to tell the story,” goes the old-time gospel hymn, “The old, old story of Jesus and his love.”
Yet that “old, old story” is ever becoming new in our lives. In order to really accept healing and freedom and renewal, we need to be able to believe a different narrative than the one that has defined our lives so far, a different story than the one the world or our parents or our society has told us. We are often bound by what we have experienced as “normal.” Jesus’ gift is to show us the new normal, to show us what we can be.
Bartimaeus believed this story he had heard about Jesus, and it gave him power to walk out of his old story into the new. The blind man said to him, "My teacher, let me see again.’" Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately he regained his sight and followed him on the way.
That meant giving up a certain kind of identity, a certain degree of security. Walking into our new stories always does. That’s why we often stay stuck in situations that are less than what God might have for us.
What old stories have defined you for too long? One way to get at that question is with this one: What are you pretending not to know?
What new story is calling you? Maybe it’s a vocation stirring in you, to use your time and gifts in some way other than how you have been doing. Maybe it’s a different place, a new person to love, a rediscovery of yourself. What is trying to be born in you?
Bartimaeus left his roadside and followed Jesus – right into Jerusalem, where Jesus was at first lauded and soon after condemned to a brutal death. That new story might not have been at all what Bartimaeus hoped for – and maybe it was more. For he got to witness firsthand the greatest love story the world has ever known. And he got to be around when that perfect man who had poured himself out for us, even to death, rose from the grave to usher all of us into the New, New Story God is writing. And that story, like God’s mercies, is new every morning, as we allow it to claim us.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Bartimaeus left his roadside and followed Jesus – right into Jerusalem, where Jesus was at first lauded and soon after condemned to a brutal death. That new story might not have been at all what Bartimaeus hoped for – and maybe it was more. For he got to witness firsthand the greatest love story the world has ever known. And he got to be around when that perfect man who had poured himself out for us, even to death, rose from the grave to usher all of us into the New, New Story God is writing. And that story, like God’s mercies, is new every morning, as we allow it to claim us.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
10-23-24 - Throwing Off Our Cloaks
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
They tried to hush him, this blind man sitting by the side of a road shouting out for Jesus: Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”
But it was too late – Jesus had heard the commotion and had stopped: Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, ‘Take heart; get up, he is calling you.’ So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus.
What wonderful energy is conveyed in that sentence, in Bartimaeus’ actions. He throws off his cloak. He springs up. He comes to Jesus.
Wait a minute, springing up and going to Jesus I get. But why did he throw off his cloak? What did that cloak signify? Perhaps it represented his identity as a beggar. It may have been more than protection against the elements – it might have been his sleeping bag as well, if he lived by that road, which some beggars did. It may have been his most prized possession, as well as a symbol of his degradation.
Whatever that cloak represents, his throwing it away speaks volumes: Bartimaeus knew that he wasn’t going to need it anymore. Even before he got to Jesus’ side, he was so sure about Jesus’ power to heal, that he cast it aside and came to Jesus exposed and vulnerable. Bartimaeus was ready to cast off an identity that was not who he truly was. He was ready to jettison the story that had defined him and enter a new story. Bartimaeus was ready for healing.
What “cloaks” do we cling to that inhibit our faith? What cloaks define our status in this world?
For some, the cloak might be signs of security, like safe homes and bank accounts. For some, it might be patterns of addiction that are safe and familiar, no matter how deadly. For some, it’s carrying too much weight, or chronic pain, or being busy all the time.
Do we continue to benefit from habits and patterns and wounds that may tell a truth about our lives, but not the whole truth, not God’s truth? Bartimaeus had a certain safety in his life as a beggar; little was asked of him; he was cared for, more or less. But he was ready to toss that away and move into a new life.
Is there a time when you have tossed away your cloak in faith, confident that God was up to something in your life – or at least ready to stand before God vulnerable and expectant? Did you ever take it back again (it can be distressingly easy to find the cloaks we throw aside…).
Is there anything you cling to now, that may hold you back from putting your full trust in God? What if you talked with Jesus about it? What if, in imaginative prayer, you asked Bartimaeus what it felt like to throw away a garment that both protected and falsely defined him?
Bartimaeus was ready. He believed, and he sprang. Jesus is calling you and me to his side too. What need we throw away so we are free to spring up and go to him?
© 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.
They tried to hush him, this blind man sitting by the side of a road shouting out for Jesus: Many sternly ordered him to be quiet, but he cried out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”
But it was too late – Jesus had heard the commotion and had stopped: Jesus stood still and said, “Call him here.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, ‘Take heart; get up, he is calling you.’ So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus.
What wonderful energy is conveyed in that sentence, in Bartimaeus’ actions. He throws off his cloak. He springs up. He comes to Jesus.
Wait a minute, springing up and going to Jesus I get. But why did he throw off his cloak? What did that cloak signify? Perhaps it represented his identity as a beggar. It may have been more than protection against the elements – it might have been his sleeping bag as well, if he lived by that road, which some beggars did. It may have been his most prized possession, as well as a symbol of his degradation.
Whatever that cloak represents, his throwing it away speaks volumes: Bartimaeus knew that he wasn’t going to need it anymore. Even before he got to Jesus’ side, he was so sure about Jesus’ power to heal, that he cast it aside and came to Jesus exposed and vulnerable. Bartimaeus was ready to cast off an identity that was not who he truly was. He was ready to jettison the story that had defined him and enter a new story. Bartimaeus was ready for healing.
What “cloaks” do we cling to that inhibit our faith? What cloaks define our status in this world?
For some, the cloak might be signs of security, like safe homes and bank accounts. For some, it might be patterns of addiction that are safe and familiar, no matter how deadly. For some, it’s carrying too much weight, or chronic pain, or being busy all the time.
Do we continue to benefit from habits and patterns and wounds that may tell a truth about our lives, but not the whole truth, not God’s truth? Bartimaeus had a certain safety in his life as a beggar; little was asked of him; he was cared for, more or less. But he was ready to toss that away and move into a new life.
Is there a time when you have tossed away your cloak in faith, confident that God was up to something in your life – or at least ready to stand before God vulnerable and expectant? Did you ever take it back again (it can be distressingly easy to find the cloaks we throw aside…).
Is there anything you cling to now, that may hold you back from putting your full trust in God? What if you talked with Jesus about it? What if, in imaginative prayer, you asked Bartimaeus what it felt like to throw away a garment that both protected and falsely defined him?
Bartimaeus was ready. He believed, and he sprang. Jesus is calling you and me to his side too. What need we throw away so we are free to spring up and go to him?
© 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.
9-5-24 - A Different Healing
You can listen to this reflection here.
This week’s gospel passage contains two great healing stories – the first about the Syro-Phoenician woman and her daughter, and a second about Jesus healing a man who is both deaf and mute: They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.
This healing is unique. First, Jesus healed the man in private. He doesn’t usually do that; in fact, some quite intimate healings happen in full view of a crowd. Perhaps the reason Jesus takes the man aside is related to the other distinctive feature of this healing – Jesus is unusually hands-on, even invasive. Jesus’ spiritual power is so great he can command a healing from afar. He need only speak healing and people are made whole. Why does he put his fingers in this man’s ears and touch his tongue with his own spittle before speaking a word of healing?
We can’t know the answer to that question, but it invites us to imagine. There is something powerful about Jesus using his physical life to bring healing to another – God does not eschew the material, fleshly world, but uses it for the purpose of redemption. That story is writ large in Jesus’ incarnation, of course, but we find it told in small ways throughout the gospels. That the God come in human flesh should use his bodily existence to reveal the spiritual power of God – how amazing is that?!
And this God-Man coming so close to someone who is suffering, willing to put his fingers in another’s ears, and to touch his tongue with his own spit – that shows a God who wants to come close to us, who does not shy away from our infirmities but gives of himself to heal us. What wounds are you trying to hide from God, afraid he doesn’t want to know about them, or can't help? Can we invite Jesus that close?
There is yet another unique element to this healing – Jesus’ looking up to heaven and sighing, and then speaking the command to the man’s ears and voice: “Be opened.” A similar sequence is reported when Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead – maybe the sighs bespeak an inner effort to transmit this greater reality of God-Life into what we think of as reality. And he speaks the healing; he pronounces it into being, the way God “spoke” the world into being – “in the beginning was the Word.”
We too are invited to speak into being God’s transforming word. That is prayer, the prayer of faith that takes God up on God’s promises of spiritual authority over the material world. Paul writes in Romans 4:17 about, “the God who gives life to the dead and calls into being things that were not.” Calling into being things that are not is what we are about. We can’t dictate God’s action, but we can direct God’s power and love into people and situations in need of transformation, as Jesus did with that deaf and mute man.
Prayer is bringing spiritual power to bear on physical situations. We can do that, right?
© 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.
This week’s gospel passage contains two great healing stories – the first about the Syro-Phoenician woman and her daughter, and a second about Jesus healing a man who is both deaf and mute: They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.
This healing is unique. First, Jesus healed the man in private. He doesn’t usually do that; in fact, some quite intimate healings happen in full view of a crowd. Perhaps the reason Jesus takes the man aside is related to the other distinctive feature of this healing – Jesus is unusually hands-on, even invasive. Jesus’ spiritual power is so great he can command a healing from afar. He need only speak healing and people are made whole. Why does he put his fingers in this man’s ears and touch his tongue with his own spittle before speaking a word of healing?
We can’t know the answer to that question, but it invites us to imagine. There is something powerful about Jesus using his physical life to bring healing to another – God does not eschew the material, fleshly world, but uses it for the purpose of redemption. That story is writ large in Jesus’ incarnation, of course, but we find it told in small ways throughout the gospels. That the God come in human flesh should use his bodily existence to reveal the spiritual power of God – how amazing is that?!
And this God-Man coming so close to someone who is suffering, willing to put his fingers in another’s ears, and to touch his tongue with his own spit – that shows a God who wants to come close to us, who does not shy away from our infirmities but gives of himself to heal us. What wounds are you trying to hide from God, afraid he doesn’t want to know about them, or can't help? Can we invite Jesus that close?
There is yet another unique element to this healing – Jesus’ looking up to heaven and sighing, and then speaking the command to the man’s ears and voice: “Be opened.” A similar sequence is reported when Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead – maybe the sighs bespeak an inner effort to transmit this greater reality of God-Life into what we think of as reality. And he speaks the healing; he pronounces it into being, the way God “spoke” the world into being – “in the beginning was the Word.”
We too are invited to speak into being God’s transforming word. That is prayer, the prayer of faith that takes God up on God’s promises of spiritual authority over the material world. Paul writes in Romans 4:17 about, “the God who gives life to the dead and calls into being things that were not.” Calling into being things that are not is what we are about. We can’t dictate God’s action, but we can direct God’s power and love into people and situations in need of transformation, as Jesus did with that deaf and mute man.
Prayer is bringing spiritual power to bear on physical situations. We can do that, right?
© 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.
9-4-24 - Who's Under Your Table?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
There are few expressions of humility in the Bible more beautiful than the response of the Gentile mother when Jesus denies her request that he heal her daughter, saying, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
Jesus’ words sound harsh and unfeeling, no matter how we try to interpret them. In Matthew's version of this story Jesus gives a fuller reason for not helping her: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” By these lights, he is just staying “on mission.” His own people and target audience are “the children,” and outsiders are “dogs.”
Where is the Jesus who heals a Roman centurion’s servant, who frees a man in Gentile territory of a legion of demons, who stays for two days among Samaritans and holds up those disdained relatives of the Jews – outsiders, if not Gentiles – as models of compassionate service?
We’ll see him again shortly, when he fully digests this woman’s breathtakingly faithful reply: “Even the dogs under the table eat crumbs that fall from the table.” She knows that his “crumbs” hold power enough to heal her little girl, and she doesn’t care where she gets them or for whom they were intended. Her faith gets through to him, and he pronounces her daughter free and healed.
Who do we consider the “children,” and who do we regard as “dogs under the table?” Who is under your table? Some people who’ve never belonged to a church, or have heard the gospel only in its cultural iterations, might find it much easier than we to trust God, even if they use different language and rituals. Many of our churches offer feasts that precious few partake in, while at our margins there are many who would love to receive our “crumbs” of true faith: a loving community, the power of God’s Spirit, access to God in Christ. How do we make the invitation to those people who look and act so different from us?
My friend Mary Lynn once described her experience of eucharist beautifully: “Oh, you give us this little piece of bread, and we give it away all week, and then next Sunday we come back for more.” As we truly learn to understand the feast we receive through church, we can more intentionally offer our “crumbs” all over the place until all are fed.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
There are few expressions of humility in the Bible more beautiful than the response of the Gentile mother when Jesus denies her request that he heal her daughter, saying, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
Jesus’ words sound harsh and unfeeling, no matter how we try to interpret them. In Matthew's version of this story Jesus gives a fuller reason for not helping her: “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” By these lights, he is just staying “on mission.” His own people and target audience are “the children,” and outsiders are “dogs.”
Where is the Jesus who heals a Roman centurion’s servant, who frees a man in Gentile territory of a legion of demons, who stays for two days among Samaritans and holds up those disdained relatives of the Jews – outsiders, if not Gentiles – as models of compassionate service?
We’ll see him again shortly, when he fully digests this woman’s breathtakingly faithful reply: “Even the dogs under the table eat crumbs that fall from the table.” She knows that his “crumbs” hold power enough to heal her little girl, and she doesn’t care where she gets them or for whom they were intended. Her faith gets through to him, and he pronounces her daughter free and healed.
Who do we consider the “children,” and who do we regard as “dogs under the table?” Who is under your table? Some people who’ve never belonged to a church, or have heard the gospel only in its cultural iterations, might find it much easier than we to trust God, even if they use different language and rituals. Many of our churches offer feasts that precious few partake in, while at our margins there are many who would love to receive our “crumbs” of true faith: a loving community, the power of God’s Spirit, access to God in Christ. How do we make the invitation to those people who look and act so different from us?
My friend Mary Lynn once described her experience of eucharist beautifully: “Oh, you give us this little piece of bread, and we give it away all week, and then next Sunday we come back for more.” As we truly learn to understand the feast we receive through church, we can more intentionally offer our “crumbs” all over the place until all are fed.
© 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.
9-2-24 - Everybody Needs a Break
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I had a lovely but slightly dull vacation this year. No dramatic destinations, no exciting excursions, just time at the cottage on a beautiful lake in Michigan. I didn’t produce anything, didn’t even think any particularly deep thoughts or have breakthrough insights that would ignite my congregations for mission. But every time I inwardly fussed about that, I’d remind myself, “Fields need to go fallow for a time. Give your imagination a break – it’ll come back stronger.” I’d been working really hard; it was time to take a break.
If I needed a vacation, imagine how much Jesus needed some rest time! He had been preaching and healing and traveling and disputing and training, never in the same spot for more than a day, it seems. And now he arrives at the shore, and he just wants some time apart. It’s his Garbo moment, “I vant to be alone!” But it’s not to be. From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet.
It’s great to read that Jesus sought these times to rest and recharge, for it reminds us that he was human, and it gives us permission to recognize our limits as well. And, of course, he was also the God who ordained one day of rest in every seven; if we would only live into that promise, we might not even need vacations.
It’s also helpful to learn that Jesus was interrupted at his rest. The demands of the world do not subside just because we take some time out. The woman who came and found him had business she felt was much more pressing than his need to rest. And, though his initial response appears surly, in the end he agrees with her: her need, and her faith, were worthy of his attention.
When we’re on vacation we put down our regular work, our regular tasks, sometimes even our regular landscape, and seek to be renewed in the space that opens up. But we do not cease to be servants of the Living God, engaged in God’s mission of restoration and wholeness. We may find ourselves presented with needs in the people around us. We may fall into some interior, spiritual work we’ve neglected in our busyness, or find ourselves dealing with issues in our families or relationships. We may be surprised at how God wants to work through us in our time away. If the mission of God should find us despite our best intentions to rest, we have to trust that God will give us the R&R we need in some other way.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
I had a lovely but slightly dull vacation this year. No dramatic destinations, no exciting excursions, just time at the cottage on a beautiful lake in Michigan. I didn’t produce anything, didn’t even think any particularly deep thoughts or have breakthrough insights that would ignite my congregations for mission. But every time I inwardly fussed about that, I’d remind myself, “Fields need to go fallow for a time. Give your imagination a break – it’ll come back stronger.” I’d been working really hard; it was time to take a break.
If I needed a vacation, imagine how much Jesus needed some rest time! He had been preaching and healing and traveling and disputing and training, never in the same spot for more than a day, it seems. And now he arrives at the shore, and he just wants some time apart. It’s his Garbo moment, “I vant to be alone!” But it’s not to be. From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet.
It’s great to read that Jesus sought these times to rest and recharge, for it reminds us that he was human, and it gives us permission to recognize our limits as well. And, of course, he was also the God who ordained one day of rest in every seven; if we would only live into that promise, we might not even need vacations.
It’s also helpful to learn that Jesus was interrupted at his rest. The demands of the world do not subside just because we take some time out. The woman who came and found him had business she felt was much more pressing than his need to rest. And, though his initial response appears surly, in the end he agrees with her: her need, and her faith, were worthy of his attention.
When we’re on vacation we put down our regular work, our regular tasks, sometimes even our regular landscape, and seek to be renewed in the space that opens up. But we do not cease to be servants of the Living God, engaged in God’s mission of restoration and wholeness. We may find ourselves presented with needs in the people around us. We may fall into some interior, spiritual work we’ve neglected in our busyness, or find ourselves dealing with issues in our families or relationships. We may be surprised at how God wants to work through us in our time away. If the mission of God should find us despite our best intentions to rest, we have to trust that God will give us the R&R we need in some other way.
© 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.
7-18-24 - Even the Fringe
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
We end this action-packed chapter of Mark’s gospel with the camera pulling back to a wide angle; after these very specific stories about Jesus’ ministry, we get an overview: And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the market-places, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
All who touched it were healed. All who touched even the fringe of Jesus’ cloak were healed. No wonder some healing ministries mail out pre-blessed “healing” handkerchiefs and bits of cloth to people who’ve sent a donation. And maybe I shouldn’t be snarky – if we encounter God in the form of energy, perhaps that divine power lingers in cloth or the walls of holy places. Or is it rather the faith of the people who believe the cloth will heal them that results in healing? Time and again, Jesus told people, “Your faith has healed you.” Is that a "placebo effect?"
Well, as my friend Peter says, "If we knew how, everybody would be doing it." We would actively invite God’s healing stream into people. And most Christians do not do that. Why? Perhaps because we have not seen “all healed.” We’ve seen one or two healed, on occasion, and we allow the weight of all those "not healed" to overwhelm us.
I don’t know why so many people in our world get sick and die without any visible healing – but I do know that our prayers need to be part of the equation. God could just go ahead without us, yet the record of scripture and humanity’s history with God suggests that God has chosen to work through us. And if we don’t allow God to work through us… healing often does not occur. On rare occasions, God’s will might be for something other than healing, but over all the reign of God leans toward life and more life.
Jesus said healing is a manifestation of God’s Good News. Why would we leave one of the most central Gospel tools unused? God’s desire for us is not illness or trial, but that we be whole and beloved and available to share God’s love with the world. We can pray anywhere and everywhere, anytime someone tells us they are struggling with infirmity, be it physical, mental or spiritual. We can invite the healing stream of God’s life already in us by virtue of our baptism to be released into every situation.
And we can help people become aware of the obstacles to that healing flow – obstacles like self-loathing, or a conviction that healing is not possible, or a deep-seated resentment, or unhealed trauma. We can help shine the light of the Spirit into those dark corners so our friends become more receptive to the power of God at work in them.
I once heard an interesting definition of faith: “Faith is a spiritual force that becomes a catalyst to activate spiritual laws that have authority over natural laws.” If chapter 6 of Mark’s Gospel teaches anything, it is that Jesus demonstrated amazing authority over natural laws – food, water, diseased cells. As he and others exercised faith, people experienced healing and deliverance.
Jesus still has that authority. He is still coming through the villages, towns and marketplaces – but now through us. Let's make ourselves available as conduits of that healing stream. We are now the fringe of Jesus’ cloak.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
We end this action-packed chapter of Mark’s gospel with the camera pulling back to a wide angle; after these very specific stories about Jesus’ ministry, we get an overview: And wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the market-places, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.
All who touched it were healed. All who touched even the fringe of Jesus’ cloak were healed. No wonder some healing ministries mail out pre-blessed “healing” handkerchiefs and bits of cloth to people who’ve sent a donation. And maybe I shouldn’t be snarky – if we encounter God in the form of energy, perhaps that divine power lingers in cloth or the walls of holy places. Or is it rather the faith of the people who believe the cloth will heal them that results in healing? Time and again, Jesus told people, “Your faith has healed you.” Is that a "placebo effect?"
Well, as my friend Peter says, "If we knew how, everybody would be doing it." We would actively invite God’s healing stream into people. And most Christians do not do that. Why? Perhaps because we have not seen “all healed.” We’ve seen one or two healed, on occasion, and we allow the weight of all those "not healed" to overwhelm us.
I don’t know why so many people in our world get sick and die without any visible healing – but I do know that our prayers need to be part of the equation. God could just go ahead without us, yet the record of scripture and humanity’s history with God suggests that God has chosen to work through us. And if we don’t allow God to work through us… healing often does not occur. On rare occasions, God’s will might be for something other than healing, but over all the reign of God leans toward life and more life.
Jesus said healing is a manifestation of God’s Good News. Why would we leave one of the most central Gospel tools unused? God’s desire for us is not illness or trial, but that we be whole and beloved and available to share God’s love with the world. We can pray anywhere and everywhere, anytime someone tells us they are struggling with infirmity, be it physical, mental or spiritual. We can invite the healing stream of God’s life already in us by virtue of our baptism to be released into every situation.
And we can help people become aware of the obstacles to that healing flow – obstacles like self-loathing, or a conviction that healing is not possible, or a deep-seated resentment, or unhealed trauma. We can help shine the light of the Spirit into those dark corners so our friends become more receptive to the power of God at work in them.
I once heard an interesting definition of faith: “Faith is a spiritual force that becomes a catalyst to activate spiritual laws that have authority over natural laws.” If chapter 6 of Mark’s Gospel teaches anything, it is that Jesus demonstrated amazing authority over natural laws – food, water, diseased cells. As he and others exercised faith, people experienced healing and deliverance.
Jesus still has that authority. He is still coming through the villages, towns and marketplaces – but now through us. Let's make ourselves available as conduits of that healing stream. We are now the fringe of Jesus’ cloak.
© 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.
6-28-24 - Not Dead but Sleeping
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Remember Jairus, the synagogue leader who fell at Jesus’ feet, begging him to come and heal his dying daughter? Imagine what he felt as Jesus stopped on the way, asked who had touched him, and then held a conversation with some woman. He must have been in agony – his little girl was at death’s door, no time to waste! Why wasn’t Jesus moving?
And then, as can happen, his worst fears were realized: While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly.
What Jairus didn’t know, what none of the people keening at his house knew, was that this story was not yet over. Jesus knew this little girl’s life was not ended, that she was deeply asleep, perhaps in a coma. When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him.
This story had a happy outcome. But what about when someone has really and finally died? We don’t know what Jesus knows. Are we to pray for healing in the face of what looks like death? Sometimes… maybe more often than we do. Death is a reality of life, yes, and the power of God to heal is very real and very strong when communities exercise faith. The community around Jairus only saw death; Jesus saw life. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years old).
Jesus’ voice, his power, his Spirit were able to reach her spirit, and her spirit responded to his command. And she got up and began to walk about – a mini-prefiguring of Jesus’ later resurrection.
We are called to see life, even in the face of death, in situations and communities as well as in the dying. At times, that life is in the people around the person dying; sometimes the dying revive. (More rarely, even the recently dead revive…) When someone we know is gravely ill, we can ask the Spirit how to pray. If we feel a sense that physical healing can happen, invite the healing stream of God’s love into that person. I specify “physical healing,” because sometimes the healing a person receives is spiritual, preparing them for life after death.
These are great mysteries – if we knew how to “work it,” we’d all be doing it, right? That’s why it’s called faith; we don’t get a road map or guarantees. But we walk forward anyway. We can agonize about how long Jesus seems to be taking, but in the end he knows. That’s all we can count on – he knows.
At the end of this story of two dramatic healings, Jesus is delightfully practical. Looking at the young girl now well and out of bed, he says simply, “Give her something to eat.” Because Life goes on.
© 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.
Remember Jairus, the synagogue leader who fell at Jesus’ feet, begging him to come and heal his dying daughter? Imagine what he felt as Jesus stopped on the way, asked who had touched him, and then held a conversation with some woman. He must have been in agony – his little girl was at death’s door, no time to waste! Why wasn’t Jesus moving?
And then, as can happen, his worst fears were realized: While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly.
What Jairus didn’t know, what none of the people keening at his house knew, was that this story was not yet over. Jesus knew this little girl’s life was not ended, that she was deeply asleep, perhaps in a coma. When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him.
This story had a happy outcome. But what about when someone has really and finally died? We don’t know what Jesus knows. Are we to pray for healing in the face of what looks like death? Sometimes… maybe more often than we do. Death is a reality of life, yes, and the power of God to heal is very real and very strong when communities exercise faith. The community around Jairus only saw death; Jesus saw life. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years old).
Jesus’ voice, his power, his Spirit were able to reach her spirit, and her spirit responded to his command. And she got up and began to walk about – a mini-prefiguring of Jesus’ later resurrection.
We are called to see life, even in the face of death, in situations and communities as well as in the dying. At times, that life is in the people around the person dying; sometimes the dying revive. (More rarely, even the recently dead revive…) When someone we know is gravely ill, we can ask the Spirit how to pray. If we feel a sense that physical healing can happen, invite the healing stream of God’s love into that person. I specify “physical healing,” because sometimes the healing a person receives is spiritual, preparing them for life after death.
These are great mysteries – if we knew how to “work it,” we’d all be doing it, right? That’s why it’s called faith; we don’t get a road map or guarantees. But we walk forward anyway. We can agonize about how long Jesus seems to be taking, but in the end he knows. That’s all we can count on – he knows.
At the end of this story of two dramatic healings, Jesus is delightfully practical. Looking at the young girl now well and out of bed, he says simply, “Give her something to eat.” Because Life goes on.
© 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.
6-27-24 - Into the Light
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The woman who crept forward in the crowd to touch Jesus’ garment, believing that his spiritual power to heal was so great even his clothes would be charged with it, felt immediately that her bleeding had stopped. Twelve years of hemorrhage from what today might be diagnosed as uterine fibroids, and just like that, she felt the flow stop. She knew she was healed. She began to make her way out of the crowd again, rejoicing, yet unable to tell anyone what she’d done.
But she was not to make a neat escape. For Jesus felt the power go out of him as vividly as she felt the healing take hold – Mark uses the word “immediately” to describe both their experiences. And Jesus wanted to know who had touched his clothes. He looked all round to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
This is even braver than her stealth power grab. She could have pulled a “Who, me?” and kept moving until she was safely away. But something made her come forward and reveal herself. Which meant revealing the whole truth – of her embarrassing disease, her impurity in the eyes of the religious law, her attempt to remain anonymous. She had too much integrity to sneak away. And maybe she also felt too much gratitude. So she came forward into the light, fearful, humble and probably humiliated, falling at his feet just as Jairus had done. And Jesus affirmed her faith and confirmed her healing – a complete healing, in body and spirit. Now she could go in peace, for the first time in a very long time.
Are there burdens or infirmities of mind or body that you have carried for a long time? Illness? Chronic pain? Anxieties, resentments, disappointments, shame, poverty, disease, fear of disease? Can you imagine feeling freed of that burden? That is what happened for that woman. I believe God wants us to experience the same freedom and peace.
One step is to reach out for healing as she did. The next is to come fully into the light of Jesus’ presence, to tell our whole story – either directly in prayer, or mediated to another person of faith – and open ourselves to God’s mercy. It is hard to relinquish control like that. Yet so many have found it to be the beginning of freedom and wholeness. That is where every addict begins recovery, and I suspect it is a universal principle, that we need to surface and bring into the light all that holds us back from experiencing the fullness of love and life God desires for us.
That includes confessing our sin, being willing to forgive others and ourselves. And it means telling our stories, getting them out of the storage bins in our psyche and into the light, shared with others to bring life and hope to their lives. More and more in our day we are recovering the power of story to bring healing – for survivors of abuse or crime, gang members breaking free, people in recovery, even in courtrooms for nations seeking to heal after decades of corruption and violence. The Truth and Reconciliation movement that began in South Africa after apartheid, and has been successfully implemented elsewhere, is based on telling hard stories and having them heard. Amazing freedom and healing can flow from that simple act.
Our unnamed woman was healed in body before she came forward. In telling her story, she opened herself up to the full healing Jesus had for her, wholeness in mind and spirit. That can be our gift, as we share our stories and invite healing in.
© 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.
The woman who crept forward in the crowd to touch Jesus’ garment, believing that his spiritual power to heal was so great even his clothes would be charged with it, felt immediately that her bleeding had stopped. Twelve years of hemorrhage from what today might be diagnosed as uterine fibroids, and just like that, she felt the flow stop. She knew she was healed. She began to make her way out of the crowd again, rejoicing, yet unable to tell anyone what she’d done.
But she was not to make a neat escape. For Jesus felt the power go out of him as vividly as she felt the healing take hold – Mark uses the word “immediately” to describe both their experiences. And Jesus wanted to know who had touched his clothes. He looked all round to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
This is even braver than her stealth power grab. She could have pulled a “Who, me?” and kept moving until she was safely away. But something made her come forward and reveal herself. Which meant revealing the whole truth – of her embarrassing disease, her impurity in the eyes of the religious law, her attempt to remain anonymous. She had too much integrity to sneak away. And maybe she also felt too much gratitude. So she came forward into the light, fearful, humble and probably humiliated, falling at his feet just as Jairus had done. And Jesus affirmed her faith and confirmed her healing – a complete healing, in body and spirit. Now she could go in peace, for the first time in a very long time.
Are there burdens or infirmities of mind or body that you have carried for a long time? Illness? Chronic pain? Anxieties, resentments, disappointments, shame, poverty, disease, fear of disease? Can you imagine feeling freed of that burden? That is what happened for that woman. I believe God wants us to experience the same freedom and peace.
One step is to reach out for healing as she did. The next is to come fully into the light of Jesus’ presence, to tell our whole story – either directly in prayer, or mediated to another person of faith – and open ourselves to God’s mercy. It is hard to relinquish control like that. Yet so many have found it to be the beginning of freedom and wholeness. That is where every addict begins recovery, and I suspect it is a universal principle, that we need to surface and bring into the light all that holds us back from experiencing the fullness of love and life God desires for us.
That includes confessing our sin, being willing to forgive others and ourselves. And it means telling our stories, getting them out of the storage bins in our psyche and into the light, shared with others to bring life and hope to their lives. More and more in our day we are recovering the power of story to bring healing – for survivors of abuse or crime, gang members breaking free, people in recovery, even in courtrooms for nations seeking to heal after decades of corruption and violence. The Truth and Reconciliation movement that began in South Africa after apartheid, and has been successfully implemented elsewhere, is based on telling hard stories and having them heard. Amazing freedom and healing can flow from that simple act.
Our unnamed woman was healed in body before she came forward. In telling her story, she opened herself up to the full healing Jesus had for her, wholeness in mind and spirit. That can be our gift, as we share our stories and invite healing in.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
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