You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Some people “live in their head,” as though physicality counted for little,, while others seem to be so spiritually disconnected, so completely focused on matters of the flesh that they are neither very healthy nor very interesting. Most of us crave balance in the life of flesh and the life of spirit.
We are coming to the end of the “I am the bread of life” discussion between Jesus and people in his hometown synagogue. He more or less ends the argument by suggesting that the preoccupation with “flesh” – which he stirred up by saying people had to eat his flesh if they wanted to be part of the Life of God – is really a distraction from what matters most. He says, “It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.”
It sounds harsh to say that “the flesh” is useless. That quote might reflect the bias in John’s gospel toward Greek thought and ideas, which posited a greater distinction between flesh and spirit than would be common in Jewish thinking. Might Jesus have made a more nuanced statement like, “The flesh is useless in the long run?” Certainly God valued human flesh enough to take it on in Christ’s incarnate life.
St. Paul uses “the flesh” as short-hand for “the human nature without God’s influence.” And that, we might agree, has a short run indeed. It is our spirits that connect with the Holy Spirit, who gives us the Life that transcends life, the Life we begin to live now, even as we still very much live the life of the flesh. That “fleshly life” allows us to enjoy the gifts of God, to fully inhabit this world and its pains and blessings. And our spiritual life allows us to hold all that lightly, to recognize it as transient and temporal. We need to nurture both in this life, for a full humanity makes for a healthier spirituality.
What do you do in your life to balance the life of the spirit with the life of the body and mind? How might you invite someone who seemed “not to have a spiritual bone in their body” to open up that part of themselves? Every day we can invite the Holy Spirit to strengthen the life of our spirit.
The flesh is indeed useless once we no longer inhabit these bodies of ours. For now, though, it is our very flesh that allows us to have the feelings and emotions and relational connections by which our spiritual lives grow. The flesh sets up the life of the Spirit, which gives us Life forever.
© 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.
Showing posts with label spiritual life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spiritual life. Show all posts
10-10-23 - No Thanks
You can listen to this reflection here.
I once had a friend who would decline to do things with me if she received other offers she preferred, even if she’d already accepted my invitation. While I admired her honesty, I felt I didn’t rate very high on her list. Not that I was about to burn down her village or anything…
The invited guests in Jesus’ parable of the wedding banquet have no qualms about turning down the king’s invitation to his feast – in fact, they seem to have no respect for this king at all. The first group just say, “No.” Then the king sends out other servants and says, “'Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.' But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized his slaves, maltreated them, and killed them."
One to his farm, another to his business. In Luke's version the excuses are more creative – one just got married and didn’t want to leave his new wife just yet. Who are these people who so little value God's invitations?
On any given day it can be you or me or anyone we know. There can be no end to other priorities when it comes to engaging the spiritual life. Connecting with God has to be on our schedule, and not when the coach has called a practice, or the boss a new deadline, or there’s anything else we’d rather do. Just think of all the reasons people give for not coming to church.
And yet, if you’re reading this you have put engaging with God-Life above quite a few other demands on your time. Something about spending time and energy in the presence of God or God’s people, in praise and worship, in acts of mercy and justice, has been compelling enough that you’ve actually said yes to God's invitation to the banquet, not once but many times.
What made the difference for you? If we can identify that, we might be able to better frame the invitation so that other people can respond to it. Are there ways that we practice our faith that can obscure the life at its heart? Inviting people in needn't mean lowest-common-denominator consumer Christianity – some of the highest-commitment faith communities are the most robust. But the banquet does have to be lively, full of life, real, true life. That’s what people are hungry for.
Make a list today of all the reasons you’ve said yes to God’s invitation, and why you stay at God’s table. If there is a list of excuses you’ve made or continue to make, list those too. Look at both lists and see what common threads emerge. Where in these gifts and obstacles might you find the seeds of an invitation to a friend or acquaintance?
God’s banquet is waiting. In this life, we only experience the feast in parts – but oh, how rich even those morsels can be. Who is God sending you out to invite?
I once had a friend who would decline to do things with me if she received other offers she preferred, even if she’d already accepted my invitation. While I admired her honesty, I felt I didn’t rate very high on her list. Not that I was about to burn down her village or anything…
The invited guests in Jesus’ parable of the wedding banquet have no qualms about turning down the king’s invitation to his feast – in fact, they seem to have no respect for this king at all. The first group just say, “No.” Then the king sends out other servants and says, “'Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.' But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized his slaves, maltreated them, and killed them."
One to his farm, another to his business. In Luke's version the excuses are more creative – one just got married and didn’t want to leave his new wife just yet. Who are these people who so little value God's invitations?
On any given day it can be you or me or anyone we know. There can be no end to other priorities when it comes to engaging the spiritual life. Connecting with God has to be on our schedule, and not when the coach has called a practice, or the boss a new deadline, or there’s anything else we’d rather do. Just think of all the reasons people give for not coming to church.
And yet, if you’re reading this you have put engaging with God-Life above quite a few other demands on your time. Something about spending time and energy in the presence of God or God’s people, in praise and worship, in acts of mercy and justice, has been compelling enough that you’ve actually said yes to God's invitation to the banquet, not once but many times.
What made the difference for you? If we can identify that, we might be able to better frame the invitation so that other people can respond to it. Are there ways that we practice our faith that can obscure the life at its heart? Inviting people in needn't mean lowest-common-denominator consumer Christianity – some of the highest-commitment faith communities are the most robust. But the banquet does have to be lively, full of life, real, true life. That’s what people are hungry for.
Make a list today of all the reasons you’ve said yes to God’s invitation, and why you stay at God’s table. If there is a list of excuses you’ve made or continue to make, list those too. Look at both lists and see what common threads emerge. Where in these gifts and obstacles might you find the seeds of an invitation to a friend or acquaintance?
God’s banquet is waiting. In this life, we only experience the feast in parts – but oh, how rich even those morsels can be. Who is God sending you out to invite?
7-26-23 - Infinitely Precious
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Sharing is a social principle all children are taught. It must be taught, for it is not a natural human inclination. I would have thought that Jesus was all about sharing – but there is a possessive twist in the next two short parables he offers:
“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.
"Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.”
The hidden treasure is puzzling – it is rare to find treasure in a field. And who hid it? It is obviously a treasure of great value, for the one who finds it hides it again, then quickly goes out to secure its possession by buying the whole field. Indeed, she gives up everything she has to buy that field.
In the story about the pearl, there is no hiding, but the merchant is certainly seeking. Among all the pearls he encounters and examines, he finds one of great value and gives up everything else he has to own it.
Is it we who are to find the treasure, seek the pearl, and upon finding, sell everything we have in order to secure that precious thing? Is Jesus, or the Life of God that precious to us? What would that look like to you? What would you need to sell, figuratively or literally?
Are we to keep the life of God for ourselves? Of course not – Jesus is always telling his followers to go out and proclaim the Good News. But when we understand the intimacy and love of God revealed in relationship through Christ to be a gift of such value, once we truly “find it,” we want to hold it close and not dilute it. I think of the parable of the wise maidens with their extra store of oil – if they were to share it with the foolish ones, no one would have any light. Jesus invites us to go “all in” and put our relationship with God first – that way, everyone will have light and to spare.
There is, of course, a whole other way to interpret these parables, turning them over and looking from another angle: Is Jesus saying that we are the hidden treasure found by God, who went and sold all that he had to buy the field (the world) that contains us? Is Jesus the merchant in search of the finest pearls – and seeing us as having infinite value, gave up everything he had in this world to secure us, redeem us? Are we willing to acknowledge that we are that precious?
How might we think or speak or move differently today, thinking of ourselves as pearls of great price? How might we engage in unearthing the hidden treasures in other people, perhaps obscured under layers of soil – wounds, disappointments, discouragement, shame?
In prayer, imagine yourself as treasure in a field or a pearl in a velvet box – highly prized, sought after, sacrificed for. Let your spirit offer praise to the God who delights in you, who has deemed you worthy of love, who has given all to secure your love. Bask in God’s love and pleasure. Luxuriate in it. Soak it in. Believe it.
Then share it with someone else who needs to know how precious he is, who needs to know she is a treasure found by the God who made her, and has gone to hell and back to secure her.
Sharing is a social principle all children are taught. It must be taught, for it is not a natural human inclination. I would have thought that Jesus was all about sharing – but there is a possessive twist in the next two short parables he offers:
“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.
"Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.”
The hidden treasure is puzzling – it is rare to find treasure in a field. And who hid it? It is obviously a treasure of great value, for the one who finds it hides it again, then quickly goes out to secure its possession by buying the whole field. Indeed, she gives up everything she has to buy that field.
In the story about the pearl, there is no hiding, but the merchant is certainly seeking. Among all the pearls he encounters and examines, he finds one of great value and gives up everything else he has to own it.
Is it we who are to find the treasure, seek the pearl, and upon finding, sell everything we have in order to secure that precious thing? Is Jesus, or the Life of God that precious to us? What would that look like to you? What would you need to sell, figuratively or literally?
Are we to keep the life of God for ourselves? Of course not – Jesus is always telling his followers to go out and proclaim the Good News. But when we understand the intimacy and love of God revealed in relationship through Christ to be a gift of such value, once we truly “find it,” we want to hold it close and not dilute it. I think of the parable of the wise maidens with their extra store of oil – if they were to share it with the foolish ones, no one would have any light. Jesus invites us to go “all in” and put our relationship with God first – that way, everyone will have light and to spare.
There is, of course, a whole other way to interpret these parables, turning them over and looking from another angle: Is Jesus saying that we are the hidden treasure found by God, who went and sold all that he had to buy the field (the world) that contains us? Is Jesus the merchant in search of the finest pearls – and seeing us as having infinite value, gave up everything he had in this world to secure us, redeem us? Are we willing to acknowledge that we are that precious?
How might we think or speak or move differently today, thinking of ourselves as pearls of great price? How might we engage in unearthing the hidden treasures in other people, perhaps obscured under layers of soil – wounds, disappointments, discouragement, shame?
In prayer, imagine yourself as treasure in a field or a pearl in a velvet box – highly prized, sought after, sacrificed for. Let your spirit offer praise to the God who delights in you, who has deemed you worthy of love, who has given all to secure your love. Bask in God’s love and pleasure. Luxuriate in it. Soak it in. Believe it.
Then share it with someone else who needs to know how precious he is, who needs to know she is a treasure found by the God who made her, and has gone to hell and back to secure her.
7-25-23 - Yeast
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Many a Saturday, I bake bread to be blessed, broken and consumed at church on Sunday. I am grooving with Jesus: He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.”
How could the kingdom of heaven be like yeast? We appreciate the homey metaphor, and props to Jesus for getting a woman into the picture (and knowing the recipe…), but what might yeast have to do with the realm of God? Well, let’s do some wondering about yeast – and some pondering between paragraphs.
Yeast, like the mustard seed, is a tiny thing that generates a large outcome. Yeast must be activated by liquid and a sweetening agent of some sort, sugar or honey. So there is interdependence, as in the community of God. Once yeast is added to those other agents, it begins to bubble and move – we call that proofing. If the yeast is worn out, it won’t come to life, but if there is any life there, a little sweetness and water will bring it out. Sound like anyone you know?
Yeast is a catalyst. Just as it cannot achieve its “yeastiness” by itself, it does not work alone, but helps other ingredients to become a whole new creation, a loaf. The woman in the story adds it to three measures of flour. Why three? Hmmm – the Trinity? Parallels to community in Christ, the way different elements combine to achieve a greater result? What do you see?
Yeast works from the inside out. You can’t just sprinkle it on top and hope it “takes.” You must knead it all through, working it into every part of the dough – just as our formation as Christ-followers needs to become internal and organic, not just surface, one-hour-a-week-on-Sundays.
And the dough goes though some turmoil in the kneading process, as the baker smooths out air pockets and gets all the ingredients evenly distributed for a nice, fine grain. Sometimes, turmoil is how the leaven of the Holy Spirit gets worked all through us. When has that happened in your life?
And then there’s the result – the bread. At the point at which the loaf is baked, the yeast has ceased to be. It has become one with the dough, one with the loaf. Didn’t Jesus say, “Whoever loses her life for me and for the gospel will save it?” And the loaf itself cannot live out its destiny unless it is broken and given away. That’s what we enact as the Body of Christ each week – a making whole, re-membering, and then a breaking apart again to feed the world.
Yeast as the Life of God works as a metaphor in several ways. We can see it as the Spirit’s presence in us, a seemingly indiscernible force that heals and transforms and empowers us from within, making us finest bread. AND, turning the parable another way, we can see ourselves as the yeast Jesus is talking about, the leaven that works through the dough of the communities in which we find ourselves, sacred and secular, to bring life and air, transformation and healing. AND, turning the parable another way… what do you see?
How are you experiencing the Spirit of God as yeast in your heart, mind, spirit? In your life? How do you find yourself serving as leaven in the world around you? Are you willing to offer yourself in a particular context? That’s a prayer for today.
Without yeast, we would have no risen bread, a tragedy to those of us who love bread. Without the Yeast of Christ, we could not become Risen Bread – a tragedy for a world in need of resurrection life.
Many a Saturday, I bake bread to be blessed, broken and consumed at church on Sunday. I am grooving with Jesus: He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.”
How could the kingdom of heaven be like yeast? We appreciate the homey metaphor, and props to Jesus for getting a woman into the picture (and knowing the recipe…), but what might yeast have to do with the realm of God? Well, let’s do some wondering about yeast – and some pondering between paragraphs.
Yeast, like the mustard seed, is a tiny thing that generates a large outcome. Yeast must be activated by liquid and a sweetening agent of some sort, sugar or honey. So there is interdependence, as in the community of God. Once yeast is added to those other agents, it begins to bubble and move – we call that proofing. If the yeast is worn out, it won’t come to life, but if there is any life there, a little sweetness and water will bring it out. Sound like anyone you know?
Yeast is a catalyst. Just as it cannot achieve its “yeastiness” by itself, it does not work alone, but helps other ingredients to become a whole new creation, a loaf. The woman in the story adds it to three measures of flour. Why three? Hmmm – the Trinity? Parallels to community in Christ, the way different elements combine to achieve a greater result? What do you see?
Yeast works from the inside out. You can’t just sprinkle it on top and hope it “takes.” You must knead it all through, working it into every part of the dough – just as our formation as Christ-followers needs to become internal and organic, not just surface, one-hour-a-week-on-Sundays.
And the dough goes though some turmoil in the kneading process, as the baker smooths out air pockets and gets all the ingredients evenly distributed for a nice, fine grain. Sometimes, turmoil is how the leaven of the Holy Spirit gets worked all through us. When has that happened in your life?
And then there’s the result – the bread. At the point at which the loaf is baked, the yeast has ceased to be. It has become one with the dough, one with the loaf. Didn’t Jesus say, “Whoever loses her life for me and for the gospel will save it?” And the loaf itself cannot live out its destiny unless it is broken and given away. That’s what we enact as the Body of Christ each week – a making whole, re-membering, and then a breaking apart again to feed the world.
Yeast as the Life of God works as a metaphor in several ways. We can see it as the Spirit’s presence in us, a seemingly indiscernible force that heals and transforms and empowers us from within, making us finest bread. AND, turning the parable another way, we can see ourselves as the yeast Jesus is talking about, the leaven that works through the dough of the communities in which we find ourselves, sacred and secular, to bring life and air, transformation and healing. AND, turning the parable another way… what do you see?
How are you experiencing the Spirit of God as yeast in your heart, mind, spirit? In your life? How do you find yourself serving as leaven in the world around you? Are you willing to offer yourself in a particular context? That’s a prayer for today.
Without yeast, we would have no risen bread, a tragedy to those of us who love bread. Without the Yeast of Christ, we could not become Risen Bread – a tragedy for a world in need of resurrection life.
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