Water Daily: judgment

Showing posts with label judgment. Show all posts

9-8-25 - The Company You Keep

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

Jesus was often under scrutiny by the religious leaders of his day – all the more because they didn’t approve of many whom he welcomed into his company: Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

Why are “tax collectors” and “sinners” so often lumped together in the Gospels? Tax collectors of Jesus’ time were no mild-mannered IRS accountants. They were Jews who made a living by “collecting” taxes for the Romans from their fellow Jews. As such, they were collaborators with a hated regime and enforcers of cruel and often capricious extortion. And the Romans didn’t pay them for this – they allowed them to tack on a “fee” or surcharge. The meaner the tax collector, the higher the “fee” they commanded. Tax collectors were easy to loathe.

Yet Jesus invited one of these, Matthew, to be a disciple. He ate at the home of another, Zaccheus. He seemed to be a magnet for them – and he didn’t just dine with them. He invited them to repent and be renewed. Many saw their lives transformed, as did other “sinners” who spent time with Jesus. Who better to hang around with than someone who talks about forgiveness and the love of the heavenly Father? Who sees you as a human being despite the despicable way you’ve treated others?

And what about these Pharisees and scribes? They weren’t bad people. Pharisees deeply loved the Law of Moses and strove for lives of great holiness. In the process, they often became self-righteous, judgmental, and tipped into a compassionless legalism that – Jesus felt – caused them to focus on picayune laws at the expense of God’s greater command to care for the poor and defenseless. The scribes were temple leaders, and regulated the apparatus of worship and sacrifice. They had limited power under Roman authority, and like many such people, excelled in exerting that power over people with even less.

So we have, on the one hand, notorious sinners and low-lifes, and on the other, hypocritical and arrogant “holy” people. If all the low-lifes were in one room, and all the religious people in another, and you HAD to pick one, which room would you go in? Why? What would you say to those gathered in each room?

What kind of people do you find yourself judging, even condemning? (We all do it… let’s just bring it to the surface so we can look at it…). Think of some examples of individuals or groups. My social media feed is full of videos of ICE and DHS agents snatching people off the streets, even out of cars in Washington, DC. Hard not to think of them and their task masters when I ask this question…
Who comes up for you? Bring them to mind.
Now bring Jesus into that picture. What does he do? Say? How do you feel?

What kind of people do you feel are hypocritical? How do you suppose they got that way? Think of some examples of individuals or groups. Bring them to mind.

Now bring Jesus into that picture. What does he do? Say? How do you feel?

Those who flout the rules and those who cling rigidly to them are both living outside the sweet spot of God's grace. Jesus invites us all into the center.

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

11-24-23 - Can You See Me Now?

You can listen to this reflection here.

In this Sunday's gospel reading, Jesus says that when we give to people in need, we give to him. He says people in need are “his family.” So… what does that make us?

When we try to wrap our minds around this vision Jesus lays out, it can be easy to get into “us” and “them” thinking. If we are to care for the hungry, the naked, the incarcerated, the stranger, the thirsty, the sick, then we must be okay. They are “the needy,” we are “the givers.” We can forget how often we are on the receiving end of someone else’s giving… sometimes the very people we think we are caring for. Tax breaks for the well-off are funded in part by taxes faithfully paid by undocumented laborers in line for food.

Some years ago, my congregation in Stamford had a thriving ministry among people who were homeless in the city’s south end. It started with a monthly healing service, which turned into a weekly bible study at the shelter, and then spilled onto the streets as we reached out to those who wouldn’t come in. A few parishioners made sandwiches and brought soup and offered them out to a group that hung out on the sidewalk, partying. And then they said, “Anybody want a prayer?” Every hand went up. Even the biggest, toughest guys wanted prayer. So they prayed.

The next time, after offering prayer, the leader said, “I’ve got a cold. Would you pray for me?” She was engulfed in the group as everyone came and laid hands on her and prayed for her. And then they went back to drinking and cussing!

Who was the giver? Who was the givee? We became one community out there on the sidewalk, with Christ discernible in all of us. Jesus invites us to find him in people to whom we offer love. Remember that others have found him in us.

Can you think of a time when someone regarded you with eyes of love, maybe when you didn’t feel you deserved it? Did you know Jesus was looking at you?

Can you think of a time you found yourself able to love someone unlovable, or care for someone in extreme need when you didn’t particularly feel like it? Did you feel Jesus loving through you? I want to develop the spiritual practice of remembering in such encounters, “This is a child of God,” to start by honoring God’s creation in front of me. I’m praying for the grace to make that my first response.

Let’s pray today to be given the faith vision to see Jesus in unlikely people. And ask for the Holy Spirit to make Christ visible in us, and for the grace to become more transparent.

I’m reminded of those mobile phone ads that had the guy going all over the country saying, “Can you hear me now?” to demonstrate the breadth of the cell network. I think Jesus is saying to us, “Can you see me now? Look, now I’m in this person, now I’m in that one.” And also in you, and in me, in a "cell network" that has no end.

SAVE THE DATE: Advent Spa for the Spirit (online) Saturday, December 2, 9-12:30. Register here; information and Zoom link will be sent prior to the event.

11-23-23 - Jesus' Family

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

Many in America will gather with family today. Will we have a foretaste of heaven or hell? Jesus draws a sharp distinction between those two realms in this vision of the End. Behind Door#1 is an inheritance of infinite and eternal value: "Then the king will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.'”

Behind Door #2? Damnation: "Then he will say to those at his left hand, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”

Jesus so wants to emphasize this teaching that he repeats the whole narrative of “hungry, thirsty, stranger, naked, sick, in prison,” in almost the same words – but the second time he indicts people for what they did not do: “…for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, (etc.)
...Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”

It’s a low bar, to have to serve only “one” of the least. Maybe the folks in the "cursed" line couldn’t even do that, and are left to the consequences of their self-gratifying narcissism and cruel neglect of those with whom they shared this planet. Let’s hope there aren’t too many in that line.

The folks on the right are perhaps continuing a relationship with Jesus they embarked upon in their earthly life. In taking care of the “least of these” members of what Jesus calls his family, they have become part of the family themselves and thus inheritors of the Realm of God.

This parable is about more than “doing good,” or “charity,” or taking care of the “less fortunate.” It goes deeper – the blessed are those who not only serve but identify with the stranger, the sick, the incarcerated, the hungry, the naked, the thirsty. indeed are willing to see them as family. They don’t see themselves as “other” or “better.” Maybe they help because they don’t believe they are any better, just more fortunate. Or they offer care because, like Mother Teresa with the lepers of Calcutta, they actually experience Christ’s presence in the ones in need.

Do you ever have the experience of helping someone and feeling you’re connected to Jesus in that moment? Or feel related to people in extreme need? When I have prayed with people in in homeless shelters, occasionally a moment of camaraderie breaks through my sense of being different from them. Then I feel like I'm their sister, not a "helper."

How might we become more open to people who seem so different from us – living hand to mouth, unable to stay sober, manipulating their way through life? If Jesus says those people are his family, and we’re his family, how might we share Thanksgiving with them?

SAVE THE DATE: Advent Spa for the Spirit (online) Saturday, December 3, 9-12:30. Register here; information and Zoom link will be sent prior to the event.

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

11-22-23 - Blessed Are the Unsuccessful

You can listen to this reflection here.

In this week’s gospel story, Jesus speaks of what will be “when the Son of Man comes in his glory.” I assume this means the end of the world as we know it – after all, when Jesus returns in glory and ushers in the reign of God’s perfect peace and justice, we’re kind of done. Roll up the sidewalks and repair to those heavenly mansions prepared for us, to enjoy an eternity of love at a never-ending banquet.

But according to this vision not everyone will be there – the “cursed” will be sorted out, the “blessed” invited in. And what is the criteria for this sorting? How we treat the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the outsider, the sick, the imprisoned; in other words, the marginalized: “Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”

Jesus anticipates that the blessed will be baffled – “When did we see you hungry and feed you?” He says the king will answer: “Truly, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

We know that by “me” Jesus means himself – he, who called himself the "Son of Man” is the king in the story, and the marginalized are his family. This give us two big clues about how we might find ourselves on the right side in glory:
1. We will give ourselves to those who are not successful in worldly terms; being hungry, thirsty, unclothed, sick, or imprisoned are not markers of worldly success, right? And
2. We will give ourselves to Jesus, who said we’d find him in exactly those people.

The world looks for Jesus in fancy churches and gilded mosaics – and where has he always been found? In a stable amidst the straw; on the road, nowhere to lay his head; at dinner with toughs and low-lifes – and, finally, in a god-forsaken killing ground, the “Place of the Skull.” The only time we see Jesus in palaces is when he’s being interrogated in Herod and Pilate’s kangaroo courts.

This is the beauty of our salvation story: this unfathomable lowering of God himself into human form; the mystery that the One who IS outside of time and space consented to be bound in those dimensions, to live and die at the mercy of the very people he came to save, forgive, heal, redeem, set free. We see the Anointed One disguising his royalty in the rags of beggars and harlots, lepers and prisoners. And, as Martin Luther noted, we are the beneficiaries of this Great Exchange, as we trade in our rags for his royal robes.

Where do you usually look for Jesus? I often seek him in my prayer imagination, as that’s how he’s been most real to me. I forgot to look for him among the "unsuccessful." Do you know anyone you’d categorize as “unsuccessful” by the world’s measures? Have you seen Christ in that person? Is Jesus inviting you to look for him in a particular person or sort of person? What happens when you pray for that person today? What happens when you ask Jesus to reveal himself in that person or persons?

When we seek to love Jesus in an “unsuccessful" person we show them love too. They don’t know it’s Jesus we’re loving – they just know someone is seeing them, honoring them, feeding, tending to them. And gradually, as we keep it up, they become stronger and transformed into the very image of a “successful person.” Just like you and me, right?

SAVE THE DATE: Advent Spa for the Spirit (online) Saturday, December 3, 9-12:30.

11-21-23 - The Great Sorting

You can listen to this reflection here.

Should we blame Jesus for the age-old bias against left-handers? In this week’s Gospel reading, he spins a vision of the Son of Man seated in glory, with all the nations gathered before him, sorting people like livestock. The blessed go to his right hand, the cursed to his left: “All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left.”

Why do goats stand in for the cursed? Why must any be cursed? For that matter, why must the judgment involve separating the sheep from the goats? (Or, for Episcopalians, the chic from the gauche… ba-dum-bum…) Why must there be a judgment at all? And need we fear it?

How literally should we take Jesus’ words here? Though this is not a parable in the same way as Jesus’ other stories, he does use symbolic language to convey a spiritual truth. He wants his followers to know that our choices in this life have consequences – and that we will be judged in large measure by how we do or do not care for the most vulnerable among us. Put another way, How well did you love your neighbor?

Many church-goers I encounter are profoundly uncomfortable with the idea of a Final Judgment. I am too. We don’t know what will be. We only know that in the gospel accounts handed down to us, Jesus referred to such an event occurring at the “end of the age.” He was right in line with the testimony of Israel’s prophets, all of whom refer at some point or another to the Judgment or the Day of Wrath or the “Great and Terrible Day of the Lord.” Christian preachers who try to “scare folks into heaven” come by that approach honestly – our scriptures are full of dire warnings.

I prefer to “love people into heaven," and I suspect you do as well. As we will see when we explore the details further tomorrow, Jesus associates salvation not only with how we treat others, but how well we recognize him. He is our “ticket to heaven,” if you will.

But I wonder: do we want a heaven from which some are excluded, even if they’ve excluded themselves? Do we want a sorting? I can think of few visions sadder than people sent to the left side, cut off from the Promise. Well... how about torturers or terrorists? Abusers of children and animals? Would I be sad to see them sorted out? On some level yes, even them. I don’t want to think anyone is beyond hope, beyond the reach of God’s power to transform. Black hearts have turned before. Witness John Newton and a thousand others.

It is so hard for me to find the Good News in this scenario. It’s not enough to think “I’m safe.” I want the promise to be eternal, the offer good forever, for all time, all people. So I will pray, pray for those who seem to turn their back on God, on Jesus, on the good, whether it’s because of disorder or trauma, or because they’ve made a full-on choice to get what they can in this world, no matter who they destroy.

Maybe as we pray we can see a speck of room for Jesus in them, and we can pray that he will heal and gently guide them home with the rest of the sheep. And the goats.

11-20-23 - King of All Nations

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

We are nearing the end of our church year – next Sunday is celebrated as “Christ the King” Sunday in many churches. This is not an actual feast day, but it brings our year of Jesus-stories to their ultimate end: that this strangely born infant who was honored as king; this crucified teacher who was lauded and then mocked as king; truly was, is, and is to be the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

We also come to the end of three weeks in Matthew 25, a chapter full of rich parables and images. Once again, Jesus has a story to tell, but not this time a parable. Parables are allegorical tales Jesus told to describe the Kingdom of God. Here he spins a future vision in which he explicitly images himself as a king, seated on a throne, overseeing a gathering of all nations and peoples. He is not telling a story in symbols – he is proclaiming his future, a future when he is no longer cloaked in human flesh with all its limitations, but fully revealed, radiantly triumphant. This is what he says will happen:

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him.”

At the very beginning of our salvation story, God makes Abraham a series of promises, and each one includes this: that through Abraham all nations will be blessed. Later, psalmists and prophets pick up the theme of all nations; Isaiah foretells the day when all nations will stream to the light of the one true God (Isaiah 60:3). Later still, St. Paul echoes Jesus’ vision in his letter to the church at Ephesus (also a reading appointed for Sunday): “God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come.”

The promised, in-breaking reign of God is not only for those who follow Jesus in this life. It is a promise of peace for the whole world, a vision of nations coming together. In our ever more fractured world, it can be hard to believe in such a vision – but our believing is one of the ways God brings it into being. When we believe in that vision of unity, it is harder to perpetuate enmity and violence. As we put our faith in that vision, we desire it and work toward it, becoming the peace-makers and justice-seekers Jesus wants his followers to be.

Here’s a prayer exercise for us to try today: Pick any two bitter world enemies. Imagine people from those two nations streaming toward a light-filled mountain, merging as they come together to climb toward the light. That’s a way of praying. Take another two nations, do it again. Think of an enemy of your own country. Imagine being part of a stream of your fellow citizens moving together toward the Light of the World, the King to whom all earthly powers will yield authority. That’s the future we proclaim. THAT’s the Gospel, the Good News we have to share.

I know a woman who prays daily for peace in the most unlikely places, for the conversion to love of the most hate-filled souls. She is actively exercising faith, speaking God’s future into being now. I suggest we join her. All nations will be blessed through us.

10-26-23 - Loving Ourselves

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

I still remember the evening in my twenties, at a Wednesday eucharist in New York City, when I realized that I would never be happy – and maybe not able to truly love another – until I learned to love myself. I’m still working on it.

Some people have a hard time with the notion of loving self. There is a self-suppressing strain in Western culture, and the Christian church has not always presented Jesus’ teachings about self-denial in a very wholesome way. We can equate loving self with selfishness, self-centeredness, self-involvement. And yet, right here at the center of Jesus' greatest commandment, is the order to love ourselves as we love our neighbors. Loving ourselves well is true humility.

If this is no challenge for you, great; you have a wonderful gift of grace and equilibrium to share with the world. If loving yourself does not come naturally, here are some ideas to help move into this way of living. First, see yourself as a child of God, created in love, for love. If you ask the Spirit to give you a glimpse of how God sees you, you may have a revelation of your belovedness. If you want a scriptural reminder of how chosen and precious you are to God, try the first chapter of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians.

When we are reminded whose we are, it opens the way to better discovering who we are. So a next step is to look at our wounds and faults with compassion instead of judgment. What prejudices have we been turning on ourselves, perhaps more harshly than we'd apply to our neighbors? If we are given to self-criticism, let’s offer it the way we would correct a small child, not by crushing her spirit, but calling her to her better self. Notice when your internal monologue toward yourself is harsh (“That was dumb,” “You idiot!”) and stop and redirect yourself to more affirming language.

Then we might move beyond accepting our “shadow sides” to actually celebrating our gifts and strengths. What are your best qualities? What is delightful about you? What do other people love in you? What do you love? And what kind of a future do you desire for this special and beloved creature of God? What do you want in your life? What do you want to do /see/ experience/ taste/ give/ receive?

Loving our selves and loving our neighbors must go hand in hand, for fundamental to the whole exercise is the understanding that we are equal in God’s sight. No one is better, or worse, more important or less, more or less worthy of regard and honor and dignity and love.

When we fully comprehend that, loving God with our whole heart and mind and soul will be a piece of cake. We are simply recognizing the inherent beauty of God’s creation, and acknowledging that God does flawless work. You are Exhibit A.

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.

10-2-23 - Kill the Messenger?

You can listen to this reflection here.

Another week, another vineyard. In this week’s parable, Jesus continues the conversation he was having with the priests and Pharisees we looked at last week. After putting them in their place with the tale of the two sons, he says, “Listen to another parable.” This time, he borrows from Isaiah 5:1-7, starting his story almost the same way.

A landowner plants, fences and equips a vineyard, and then leases it to others to run. As rent they owe a portion of the harvest. At picking time, he sends collectors – but the tenants won’t pay: “But the tenants seized his servants and beat one, killed another, and stoned another.” They do the same to the next delegation, so the owner decides to send his son to collect the rent, “…saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.’ So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?”

Jesus is laying another trap for the religious leaders. In not-so-thinly-veiled language, he alludes to the reception which Israel’s leaders had traditionally given God’s prophets. Most often, when they didn’t like what the prophets had to say, they tried to silence or even kill them. And what were the prophets usually saying? “God doesn’t want your sacrifices and your legalistic rituals. God doesn’t want your lip-service about holiness while you cheat the orphan and the widow and dishonor God’s Sabbath. God wants your heart, your repentance, your compassion.” Or, as Isaiah says of the vineyard, “When I expected it to yield grapes, why did it yield wild grapes?”

It is human nature to turn away from messages that challenge us to change. As we observe unprecedented devastation from climate change we are reminded of the failure over the past sixty years to get people to take seriously the risks to human, plant and animal life of a rapidly warming planet. On a smaller scale, think how hard it can be for an addict to take that first step in recovery, or for people to begin a weight-loss program. Often we wait until we see the effects of what we’ve been warned about – and then it can be too late. And sometimes, seeing the danger we’ve feared come to pass drives our heads further into the sands of denial and over-consumption.

Are there messages you have you been trying to ignore? Messages from God, from the Bible, from friends, from your own gut? Take some time in quiet today and ask that question of yourself and the Spirit, and see what emerges. “What am I pretending not to know?”

Are there issues on which you feel called to speak prophetically – i.e., messages that you believe God wants you to deliver? Are you offering them? How are they being received? Is there another way to communicate them?

This parable was a direct condemnation of the religious leaders of Israel in Jesus’ time. But its imagery resonates for us in many ways today, as citizens of the world and citizens of God’s realm. Isaiah tells us,
"For the vineyard of the LORD of hosts is the house of Israel,

and the people of Judah are his pleasant planting;
he expected justice, but saw bloodshed; righteousness, but heard a cry!"

God’s call to us to be people of justice and righteousness still sounds. May we not leave those cries unheard.

9-1-23 - Checkin' it Twice

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

I lean toward the “grace and love” aspects of God as the Scriptures and Jesus describe God’s Realm. Give me eight “parables of the prodigal” for any one “be warned, judgment is coming” passage. Yet, as much as Jesus described God’s Kingdom as a place of unexpected mercy and reordered rankings, he did not shy away from speaking about judgment. So he ends this teaching about taking up your cross with the reminder that there will be a reckoning: “For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done."

That "repay everyone for what has been done” bit sounds ominous to me. I tend to assume, for neurotic reasons, that the Judgment will go badly for me. Maybe you share that instinct; it is what I call “original shame.” It drives Santa Claus theology – “He’s makin’ a list, checkin’ it twice, gonna find out who’s naughty or nice…”

Only it’s not Santa who’s coming to town, but the Son of Man with his angels in the glory of his Father. Who of us can stand before such an entourage? Saint Paul didn’t think he could. “Wretched man that I am,” he wrote in Romans, “Who will deliver me from this body of death?” And then he answered his own question: “Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!”

The great, audacious claim of Christian faith is that the One who comes to judge is the same One who has delivered us from the power of sin and shame. United with Christ, we need fear no reckoning. As Paul goes on to say, “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Wow.

No condemnation. And as we breathe that in, and allow this union with Christ to be realized in us, we find ourselves making God-ward choices, moving with the power and love of the Holy Spirit. And then we start to be able to see where Christ is in the world around us.

How does that sentence, “He will repay everyone for what has been done” sit with you? Do you assume blessing? Then you are already blessed. Do you assume condemnation or trial? Then spend some time today with Paul’s promise of grace and love, let it work in.

Our passage ends on a cryptic note. Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.” No one quite knows what that means – the next event in Matthew’s Gospel is the Transfiguration, where Peter, James and John see Jesus in his divine glory for a moment. Is that what he meant? Or did he mean the spiritual vision that allows us to see the Son of Man coming all the time?

We can pray to be so filled with the Holy Spirit that we have the spiritual vision to see what the world does not: the Son of Man coming in his glorious reign, once upon a time, for all time - and right now.

7-27-23 - One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish

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

Jesus uses a diverse set of characters and settings in his short parables of the Kingdom… agriculture, baking, real estate, commerce. And now we enter the realm of fishing, a milieu he must have come to know well. (Why didn't the carpenter ever tell a parable about woodworking?) Let’s examine this one, which brings us back to those lovely Last Judgment themes:

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

On the surface, this one seems pretty clear – sorting is something we can all grasp. This story, like the one about the weeds and the wheat, depicts that aspect of the Kingdom that deals with final judgment. But here we get angels in waders (anglers!), separating the good fish from the bottom feeders. What wisdom can we find in this simple tale?

Well – there’s a randomness to the catching process, isn’t there? The kingdom of heaven doesn’t seem to be very discriminating – that net is thrown into the sea, the sea perhaps representing the entire creation, and any old fish can swim in. What constitutes a fish worthy of keeping and those to be tossed back is not articulated in this story – once again, it is not for us to judge our fellow fish, but to love.

Notice that the net is not drawn onto land until it is full. New Testament writings offer several hints that God is in no hurry to ring down the curtain on this age, preferring to wait until all have received and responded to the invitation to new life. It’s up to us to extend that invitation. That is called evangelism.

Some people do evangelism to save people from the fires of hell. I prefer to stress the joys of heaven and the fullness of God-Life we already begin to enjoy in this world. Offering other fish a swim in the Water of Life is a gift we can share – which would make the net a good thing.

Are you feeling fishy today? Willing to pray as a fish - which can breathe under the water, undisturbed by turbulence on the surface? Are you willing to be caught? Is there anyone whom you’d like to invite into the net with you?

Some fish, we know, will hop right into the frying pan, no matter what invitations we extend. Many others, I pray, will choose to join us in the life-giving waters of baptism.

7-21-23 - Shine Like the Sun

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

Every story needs a happy ending. Many of Jesus’ parables have ambiguous ones, but this one ends on a high note: “Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!”

I love the idea of shining like the sun - assuming I'm among the “righteous.” Could such idyllic joy really come at the end of our story, after all the trouble caused by the enemy and the weeds and the difficulty of telling plants apart, and the sorting and bundling and tossing into fiery furnaces? Is there cause for joy in the destruction of evil?

Look more closely at the description Jesus gives of the “weeds” whom the angel reapers would cull from the field. “The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers…” It's not about removing “sinners” from the “righteous” – for one of the gifts of Christian belief is the understanding that we are all sinful and righteous, all the same time.

No, the angels will be collecting out of God’s kingdom all causes of sin and doers of evil. I see a difference between sinner and evil-doer – an evil-doer is one who has given him or herself over to promoting destruction, like a cancer spreading throughout a body, whereas a sinner is manifesting the disease, not causing it. Jesus says his angels will gather up and remove all evil-doers, all causes of sin. All.

Think about that for a moment. No more greed. No more envy. No more racism. No more terrorizing. No more humiliation. No more violence. No more environmental devastation. No more… what causes of sin can you think of? Think of a world without that in it. Can you imagine it? Shine like the sun? We’d be so bright, we’d outshine the sun!

Today in prayer, let’s imagine the world with the causes of sin taken out. Let’s imagine freedom and peace and unfettered joy. Let’s imagine everyone under his or her own fig tree, enjoying economic and physical security, taking care of neighbors with mutual regard. Let’s imagine that prayer into being. What does yours look like?

Jesus’ parables are subversive little narratives, with big themes disguised as every-day items. Like wheat. Like weeds. Like the end of the world, and the dawning of the new age. Like us, shining like the sun. Let anyone with ears hear!

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7-20-23 - Avenging Angels

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

Jesus didn’t talk much about angels, but in his stories they’re anything but comforting. They’re fierce and on a mission – and in the story he tells of the wheat and the weeds, that mission is executing God’s final judgment.

“…the harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels. Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

Who wants to dwell on the prospect of a final judgment? Many Christians remove the judgment from our God story, preferring to emphasize God's mercy and acceptance. I am a huge fan of God’s mercy and acceptance… but these are pretty cheap commodities without judgment. We’d have to excise much of what Jesus taught and lived if we’re going to take judgment out of the picture. Our claim as Christians, at least traditionally, is that God's judgment awaits us, but that we will experience it as righteous, redeemed sinners because of what Jesus did for us. We are received in grace because we are one with Christ, not only because of God's great love.

This is only one of the stories Jesus told that include an Ultimate Sorting, with unrepentant, unredeemed evildoers meeting an unhappy fate – here a furnace of fire, "where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Why is there teeth-gnashing in Jesus’ images of hell? Did dental problems cause him to conceive of aural and dental torture to go along with the fire? Puts a new spin on his humanity...)

The ones doing the sorting in this tale are angels, who serve as God’s messengers – in this picture, we might even say henchmen. Is fire the fate we would wish upon the weeds sown in the field, those who despise God and seek to destroy the goodness of God’s creation and creatures? Shouldn’t the judgment be aimed at the enemy sower?

That is a matter for us to pray about. If some manner of torment awaits the completely destructive, whether it’s physical pain or separation from God, that should drive us to pray fervently for them, asking God to have mercy, and do our best to share with them our own hope. Do you suppose that’s what Jesus meant by “pray for your enemies?” Might we even spare a prayer for the Enemy of Human Nature?

Could we do such a thing in our prayer time today? Think of the worst sort of “weeds” we can, and pray for mercy for their souls? And that somehow that mercy would become real to them, working its way into stony hearts to reawaken love and compassion and hope?

Maybe you or I are called to show God's mercy to a particularly nasty sort of weed. Mercy can catalyze conversion and healing. We may just lighten some fearsome angel’s workload.

12-1-22 - When Love Comes To Town

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

John the Baptizer was scathing toward “good people” who wear their religion on their sleeves but leave their hearts and behaviors untouched. Where would he place us? Need we fear God's judgment? Our culture says so; even Santa Claus, the legend most associated with gift-giving, is also depicted as being the most judgmental: "He’s making a list, he’s checking it twice / gonna find out who’s naughty or nice / Santa Claus is coming to town."

“Good” people can do bad things; can “bad” people do good? Is there such thing as a good or a bad person? Jesus once said that a good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor a bad tree good fruit. Judgment seems based on the fruit our lives bear. John the Baptizer was making his audience aware of that judgment… and he wasn’t gentle: “Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”

I give thanks for the promise that, as members of God’s household united with Christ, it is his deeds by which we will ultimately be judged (whew!). Yet Jesus also spoke of a judgment and a sorting. So let’s do another inventory today – let’s look at the fruit we bear, the outward evidence of our life, the good and not-so-good. (Get out the journal...)

What is the fruit of your relationships? Name some.
What is the fruit of your work life? Name some.
Your recreational life? Your financial life?
Your engagement in activities that help people in need?
What is the fruit of your spiritual life – what are the outward manifestations of your faith and prayer?

Are you a healthy tree, emotionally, physically, spiritually? Is any pruning or fertilizing needed? How might you become more fruitful?

Whether we’re singing, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” or “When the Man Comes Around,” a Johnny Cash song based on Revelation with strong Advent themes (and not a whole lot of grace), I thank God for the greatest gift – freedom from the ax and the fire. God is an arborist extraordinaire, who tends the trees we are and makes us trees of love. In fact, today let's give Bono and B.B. King the last word - they say it all in "When Love Comes to Town."

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10-11-22 - Widow or Judge?

You can listen to this reflection here.

Interpreting parables can be similar to interpreting dreams – on some level, we can find ourselves in all the characters, and meaning shifts according to who we identify with most. So, in this parable, are you the widow, or the judge?

When we feel we’re on the wrong side of justice, powerless, unheard, victims of a system we can’t control, we identify with this widow. It’s hard to get more powerless than widows in Jesus’ day – they were at the mercy of relatives or charity. What situations in your life make you feel powerless? We all have some area in which we don’t get what we want or need, and we get tired of asking. It’s okay to feel a righteous anger over injustice – and it’s okay to be angry at God.

Or do you identify with this judge, unsavory as he may be? Are you tired of people haranguing you to fix everything? Maybe you think this widow ought to take more responsibility for her life. Maybe (the story doesn’t tell us…) the opponent has a good case, and ruling in favor of the widow is not the most just thing, but she’s worn you down.

In many situations we are sitting in the power seat, denying other people resources or justice or simply a hearing. When we hoard assets or exert socio-economic privilege, we’re like that judge. When we fail to honor the humanity in another person, no matter how annoying or destructive we may find them, we’re sitting on that bench.

I don't find either of these characters very appealing. Carl Jung might say they represent our “shadow” sides. Those feelings are part of us, and the more we’re able to bring them into the light, the better we can be free of their toxic elements. And freedom is our goal in the spiritual life.

Today, name some things you feel helpless about, angry at, sick of. Tell God how you feel. God doesn’t want us to be polite – God wants us to be real. If these are things you often pray about, examine that. Is there another angle from which to look at them? Action you could take? Anyone else who might join you in that prayer?

Then let's switch places and assume the judgment seat. Who is asking you for justice or mercy – or your time? Who don’t you want to be bothered with? What resources and power do you have that you might exercise on someone else’s behalf? If you feel forgiveness is needed, ask for that. Even more, ask God to show you God’s solutions for those people so you can join God in helping them.

This is hard work, to look at ourselves clearly. But the light we shine into our shadows is the love of God in Christ, a fierce love that makes us truer than we knew we could be.