You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”
How nonchalant that sounds, “So, listen, guys, don’t say anything to the others about this until after, you know, I've been raised from the dead…” Say, what? Raised from… What?
Why do you suppose Jesus invited these three on this little retreat up the mountain? I have my theories: I think he wanted them to see more fully who he truly was, the divine identity which his humanity partially obscured. For a moment that veil was lifted and his “God-essence” shone through. Jesus needed them to see that to help them endure the trials he knew were coming, for him and for his band of followers. And he needed witnesses who could testify later, after his resurrection, when the conspiracy theorists and 1st century “truth-ers” and the “he didn’t really die” people got into the act. He needed three witnesses who could say what they’d seen, and what they’d heard.
And testify they did. In his second letter, Peter wrote, “We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. For he received honor and glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, ‘This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’ We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain.”
People who were determined not to believe may not have been swayed – but the eyewitness testimony from three leaders of integrity no doubt shored up the faith of many inclined to accept the Good News of resurrection life, and encouraged the movement of Jesus followers in the church's early months and years.
It’s not enough for us to be open to encounters with the living God, which I absolutely believe God desires for us. We also need to tell our stories, even at the risk of derision or doubt. We can give voice to our experiences of God, or to words we believe we have received from the Spirit. Such revelation can and should be measured against the revelation of Scripture, and confirmation from other believers, and ultimately by what fruit it bears in your life and ministry. But don’t keep quiet – somebody needs to hear your story; somebody needs to have their own story confirmed by hearing about yours; somebody needs that little nudge to take the step into faith in Jesus Christ.
Is there a “God-story” from your life that you haven’t told anyone, or haven’t told for a while? Recall it for yourself; even write it out, recover the details. And then ask the Spirit to lead you to someone who needs to hear that story. I believe it’ll happen. (Then you’ll have another story to tell!)
As Peter continued, “So we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed. You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.”
Sometimes we are called to be that lamp shining in a dark place. Speak up.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Showing posts with label transfiguration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label transfiguration. Show all posts
2-12-26 - Be Not Afraid
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This is how I understand Jesus' transfiguration: that in this moment he is revealed as pure light, an energy form that radiated brightness. Whatever the cause, the effect was surely splendid, and probably terrifying. And to deepen the scary, it was followed by the appearance of two dead people, conversing as if alive. But none of this seems to frighten the watching disciples; Peter’s only reaction is to want to build three shelters so they can hang out together.
Yet, when a bright cloud comes over them, with a voice in it, suddenly they’re petrified: While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear.
We can absorb unusual experiences until there is too much “unusual” and our circuits overload. Or were the disciples fine as long as they could see – but when their sight was obscured by a cloud that spoke, then they panicked? Or was it that they knew in their spirits that God was speaking to them – and they could hear with their ears? OR was it what that voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” They must have heard the stories about Jesus’ baptism, when a voice from heaven was heard to say almost the same words. Were they overcome by fear because now it was unmistakable – that Jesus was in fact God's Son, holy, divine? Now there was no going back?
True movements of God that we experience with our physical senses tend to be deeply frightening – they’re so far outside our expectation. Many of us encounter God with our spiritual senses; that’s powerful enough. But when we perceive the holy with the same senses that engage the rest of life? Look out! We can’t pretend to be manufacturing it – we’re either crazy, or in God’s presence – and neither possibility is comforting. I only had one experience even remotely like that, on a retreat, when I felt a room I was in filled with a presence that was so completely “Other,” it seemed to be God or an angel… I’ll never know if it was, because I ran from the room back to where other people were.
It can be hard for us to relate to the shock of recognizing Jesus as God… this is a story handed down to us rather than experienced first-hand. And for many it’s such a familiar story, it can be hard to feel the emotions being related. So let’s think today:
This is how I understand Jesus' transfiguration: that in this moment he is revealed as pure light, an energy form that radiated brightness. Whatever the cause, the effect was surely splendid, and probably terrifying. And to deepen the scary, it was followed by the appearance of two dead people, conversing as if alive. But none of this seems to frighten the watching disciples; Peter’s only reaction is to want to build three shelters so they can hang out together.
Yet, when a bright cloud comes over them, with a voice in it, suddenly they’re petrified: While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear.
We can absorb unusual experiences until there is too much “unusual” and our circuits overload. Or were the disciples fine as long as they could see – but when their sight was obscured by a cloud that spoke, then they panicked? Or was it that they knew in their spirits that God was speaking to them – and they could hear with their ears? OR was it what that voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” They must have heard the stories about Jesus’ baptism, when a voice from heaven was heard to say almost the same words. Were they overcome by fear because now it was unmistakable – that Jesus was in fact God's Son, holy, divine? Now there was no going back?
True movements of God that we experience with our physical senses tend to be deeply frightening – they’re so far outside our expectation. Many of us encounter God with our spiritual senses; that’s powerful enough. But when we perceive the holy with the same senses that engage the rest of life? Look out! We can’t pretend to be manufacturing it – we’re either crazy, or in God’s presence – and neither possibility is comforting. I only had one experience even remotely like that, on a retreat, when I felt a room I was in filled with a presence that was so completely “Other,” it seemed to be God or an angel… I’ll never know if it was, because I ran from the room back to where other people were.
It can be hard for us to relate to the shock of recognizing Jesus as God… this is a story handed down to us rather than experienced first-hand. And for many it’s such a familiar story, it can be hard to feel the emotions being related. So let’s think today:
- Are there times when you’ve been overcome by the presence of God in a way that scared you?
- Have your physical senses ever been overwhelmed so that you had to rely on spiritual perception?
- Does your expectation of God include experiences that seem supernatural, like this one?
- Do you think the Spirit wants you to be open to more?
What are we really afraid of? Fear is never the end of a holy encounter. Someone always comes along to say, “Be not afraid.” It was no different on the mountain: “But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Get up and do not be afraid.’ And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.”
Every spiritual experience, no matter how deep or frightening, comes to an end. Our perceptions normalize; reality returns. And then we’re left with what? “No one, except Jesus himself alone.” Sounds like a pretty good deal to me…
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Every spiritual experience, no matter how deep or frightening, comes to an end. Our perceptions normalize; reality returns. And then we’re left with what? “No one, except Jesus himself alone.” Sounds like a pretty good deal to me…
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
2-11-26 - Building Booths
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Who among us doesn’t want to keep a good thing going, forever if possible? A perfect day, a lovely dinner, the “in-love” phase of a relationship… And we can’t. Days become twilight; meals yield to fullness and digestion; relationships evolve into other phases. Even the most fiery sunset dims, just about the time you get your camera ready.
But this was a really good thing, up there on that mountain – Jesus, and Moses, and Elijah. You don’t get bigger than that trifecta if you’re a Jew in occupied Israel in what would later be termed the first century: Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
So helpful, our Peter. He’ll just whip out the hammer and nails and make three little huts, nothing fancy. And who among us doesn’t recognize that impulse? To fix it, capture it, make it last? I keep taking pictures of my cats in adorable poses, even when I know I've taken the same pictures before, even with other cats. Because I want to keep them forever.
Are there things in your life you’re afraid will change or end, that you’d like to fix in place, build a shrine to? Children, friends, homes, work? It’s great to love something or someone wonderful. But when we try to cling to that, we sometimes close off other gifts God has to give us, gifts that might build on the ones we have, blessings that might even include what we’re trying to keep, yet allow that to grow into fullness. When we don’t try to save the precious things, but use and enjoy them, willing to have them end or run out, we often experience more abundance in our lives. When we enjoy the precious people, willing to see them grow up and even away, we experience a deeper, freer kind of love.
Today in prayer bring those people and things to mind, and offer them to God to bless. Offer them with open hands, and a heart willing to grow God-ward. God rarely takes away what we love; God just might show us something deeper and richer about that beloved than we can see from our current “holding” perspective.
It’s kind of funny, a fisherman offering to build a carpenter a hut. Maybe not as funny as that carpenter setting the bait and reeling those fisherman in to become the greatest catch of all, a catch that even includes us.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Who among us doesn’t want to keep a good thing going, forever if possible? A perfect day, a lovely dinner, the “in-love” phase of a relationship… And we can’t. Days become twilight; meals yield to fullness and digestion; relationships evolve into other phases. Even the most fiery sunset dims, just about the time you get your camera ready.
But this was a really good thing, up there on that mountain – Jesus, and Moses, and Elijah. You don’t get bigger than that trifecta if you’re a Jew in occupied Israel in what would later be termed the first century: Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
So helpful, our Peter. He’ll just whip out the hammer and nails and make three little huts, nothing fancy. And who among us doesn’t recognize that impulse? To fix it, capture it, make it last? I keep taking pictures of my cats in adorable poses, even when I know I've taken the same pictures before, even with other cats. Because I want to keep them forever.
Are there things in your life you’re afraid will change or end, that you’d like to fix in place, build a shrine to? Children, friends, homes, work? It’s great to love something or someone wonderful. But when we try to cling to that, we sometimes close off other gifts God has to give us, gifts that might build on the ones we have, blessings that might even include what we’re trying to keep, yet allow that to grow into fullness. When we don’t try to save the precious things, but use and enjoy them, willing to have them end or run out, we often experience more abundance in our lives. When we enjoy the precious people, willing to see them grow up and even away, we experience a deeper, freer kind of love.
Today in prayer bring those people and things to mind, and offer them to God to bless. Offer them with open hands, and a heart willing to grow God-ward. God rarely takes away what we love; God just might show us something deeper and richer about that beloved than we can see from our current “holding” perspective.
It’s kind of funny, a fisherman offering to build a carpenter a hut. Maybe not as funny as that carpenter setting the bait and reeling those fisherman in to become the greatest catch of all, a catch that even includes us.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
2-10-26 - Son et Lumière
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As a young tourist, one of my favorite things was the “Son et Lumière” shows often mounted at major attractions like ruins or castles or natural wonders. Colored lights played off the site, synchronized with music, punctuated by the “ooohs” and “ahhhs” of the appreciative crowd.
Something like that awaited Peter, James and John during their trip up the mountain with Jesus. First the light: And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white.
The sound part came a moment later – and it wasn’t music, but conversation with two people long since departed this earth: Moses and Elijah, Israel’s prophets extraordinaire, and mountain-top witnesses of divine glory. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him.”
Were they there to signal that the revelation of God in Christ was in continuity with the revelation of Israel’s past? Were they Exhibits A and B for The Law and The Prophets? Matthew doesn’t tell us what they’re discussing, though Luke says, “They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem.” Whatever the meaning, their presence was a major sign that God was up to something. “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.”
Most of us don’t experience God with sound and light and visions. Is that because God isn’t revealing God’s self in that way, or because we’ve so reduced our expectations that we figure a glorious sunset is the closest we’re going to get? It’s tricky – we can’t conjure up manifestations of divinity. We can, however, be open to them – and notice when we come across them.
As a young tourist, one of my favorite things was the “Son et Lumière” shows often mounted at major attractions like ruins or castles or natural wonders. Colored lights played off the site, synchronized with music, punctuated by the “ooohs” and “ahhhs” of the appreciative crowd.
Something like that awaited Peter, James and John during their trip up the mountain with Jesus. First the light: And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white.
The sound part came a moment later – and it wasn’t music, but conversation with two people long since departed this earth: Moses and Elijah, Israel’s prophets extraordinaire, and mountain-top witnesses of divine glory. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him.”
Were they there to signal that the revelation of God in Christ was in continuity with the revelation of Israel’s past? Were they Exhibits A and B for The Law and The Prophets? Matthew doesn’t tell us what they’re discussing, though Luke says, “They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem.” Whatever the meaning, their presence was a major sign that God was up to something. “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.”
Most of us don’t experience God with sound and light and visions. Is that because God isn’t revealing God’s self in that way, or because we’ve so reduced our expectations that we figure a glorious sunset is the closest we’re going to get? It’s tricky – we can’t conjure up manifestations of divinity. We can, however, be open to them – and notice when we come across them.
- How do you most powerfully experience the holy?
- Have you had experiences that you’d categorize as supernatural?
- What happened, and what was the fruit of that experience in your life?
- And do you share that story? It builds up other people's faith to hear our holy stories.
God shows up in so many ways in our lives. The more we become attuned to the movement of the divine in and around us, the more we experience it.
And whether it’s eavesdropping on Biblical heroes or marveling at the presence of wild creatures in our back yards, there are sound and light shows all over for us to stumble upon, as we keep our spiritual eyes and ears open.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
And whether it’s eavesdropping on Biblical heroes or marveling at the presence of wild creatures in our back yards, there are sound and light shows all over for us to stumble upon, as we keep our spiritual eyes and ears open.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
2-9-26 - Magical Mystery Tour
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Next Sunday we come to the end of Epiphany, the season of light. And every year in our gospel reading we go out with the ultimate light show – Jesus being transfigured on a mountain, to the amazement of three of his closest disciples: Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white.
“Six days later..." What happened six days ago? A conversation in which Jesus said, “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.”
Let’s remember that – it just may be a clue to what Jesus was doing up there on the mountain. Another clue is the mountain itself. In our sacred scriptures, mountains are places where God reveals God’s self to human beings. It was a mountain to which Moses was called to go and spend forty days and forty nights with God, receiving the commandments – and when he came down, his face was shining so brightly, he had to cover it to avoid blinding people. And it was a mountain on which Elijah was told to come out of a cave and see God pass by, not in a whirlwind, nor in an earthquake, nor in fire, but in a sound of sheer silence. And on this mountain, Jesus is transfigured: his face changes, shines like the sun, and his clothes become dazzling white.
When do you remember last having a sense of God’s presence, a glimpse, a word, a feeling? Can you remember and claim that? Write it down?
And when did you last go to a place apart, on retreat, alone or maybe with just a few friends? Did you sense the presence of God then? Often, when I have taken the time to go apart, God has shown up in mighty ways – not right away, but after a time. At the right time. There might be a “coincidence” or a confirmation we could not have manufactured.
Going away can facilitate our spiritual encounters because the quotidian rhythms and tasks of our lives can dull our spiritual senses. If you’ve never been on retreat, consider planning one. The Spirit also shows up in our daily "apart" times, as we get quiet and open our spirits. Just sit with as much stillness as you can and pray, “Lord, I want to know you’re here with me. Show me…”
And then let it go. You might find a thought or a word popping into your head that doesn’t seem like one you’d have thought on your own; you might have a physical sensation of presence; you might get a picture. You might sense nothing – just give thanks that God is answering whether or not you feel it.
We don’t all get Jesus turning radiant bright in front of us – I’m not sure we could take it. We have been promised that he is always with us. That’s gift enough.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Next Sunday we come to the end of Epiphany, the season of light. And every year in our gospel reading we go out with the ultimate light show – Jesus being transfigured on a mountain, to the amazement of three of his closest disciples: Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white.
“Six days later..." What happened six days ago? A conversation in which Jesus said, “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.”
Let’s remember that – it just may be a clue to what Jesus was doing up there on the mountain. Another clue is the mountain itself. In our sacred scriptures, mountains are places where God reveals God’s self to human beings. It was a mountain to which Moses was called to go and spend forty days and forty nights with God, receiving the commandments – and when he came down, his face was shining so brightly, he had to cover it to avoid blinding people. And it was a mountain on which Elijah was told to come out of a cave and see God pass by, not in a whirlwind, nor in an earthquake, nor in fire, but in a sound of sheer silence. And on this mountain, Jesus is transfigured: his face changes, shines like the sun, and his clothes become dazzling white.
When do you remember last having a sense of God’s presence, a glimpse, a word, a feeling? Can you remember and claim that? Write it down?
And when did you last go to a place apart, on retreat, alone or maybe with just a few friends? Did you sense the presence of God then? Often, when I have taken the time to go apart, God has shown up in mighty ways – not right away, but after a time. At the right time. There might be a “coincidence” or a confirmation we could not have manufactured.
Going away can facilitate our spiritual encounters because the quotidian rhythms and tasks of our lives can dull our spiritual senses. If you’ve never been on retreat, consider planning one. The Spirit also shows up in our daily "apart" times, as we get quiet and open our spirits. Just sit with as much stillness as you can and pray, “Lord, I want to know you’re here with me. Show me…”
And then let it go. You might find a thought or a word popping into your head that doesn’t seem like one you’d have thought on your own; you might have a physical sensation of presence; you might get a picture. You might sense nothing – just give thanks that God is answering whether or not you feel it.
We don’t all get Jesus turning radiant bright in front of us – I’m not sure we could take it. We have been promised that he is always with us. That’s gift enough.
© Kate Heichler, 2026. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
2-28-25 - Down With a Bump
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
After a rich and nurturing spiritual experience, it’s nice to coast on that high. I once enjoyed a retreat whose “glow” and sense of focus lasted several months. Not so for Jesus, James, John and Peter… their spiritual high on the mountain was quickly obliterated as they descended into a scene of trauma, anxiety, failure and discord:
After a rich and nurturing spiritual experience, it’s nice to coast on that high. I once enjoyed a retreat whose “glow” and sense of focus lasted several months. Not so for Jesus, James, John and Peter… their spiritual high on the mountain was quickly obliterated as they descended into a scene of trauma, anxiety, failure and discord:
On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him. Just then a man from the crowd shouted, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child. Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It convulses him until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him. I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.” Jesus answered, “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here.” While he was coming, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father.
The plight of the man and his son seems to have made Jesus cranky. Perhaps he was ticked off by the failure of his followers to act on the training they’d received and exercise the faith necessary to take authority over evil. Maybe that time on the mountain in the blessing of his Father, the sojourn with Moses and Elijah, made him anxious to be done with the messy business of saving humanity from itself. Maybe he was reacting to the pervasiveness of evil in the world.
It’s comforting to know that Jesus himself experienced the kind of letdown we so often do when “regular” life intrudes upon any spiritual serenity we’ve managed to find. But regular life is where we live, not up the mountain but at its base. Jesus did not lift himself above the mess, but plunged into it, to experience it and to redeem it. In bringing his spirit into it, he restored peace.
How can we find the balance between expecting blessing, expecting to dwell in the experience of God even in the midst of ordinary days, and not base our expectations upon our spiritual high points? How might we learn to cultivate the awareness of the Spirit in, with and through the human mess in which we live, both for our own wellbeing and so we can bring Christ’s restoring peace into all situations?
That, one might say, is the task of the spiritual life. It is why we develop and strengthen spiritual practices that keep our faith strong and our peace pervasive, even in the most challenging and unpeaceful circumstances. We celebrate the mountaintop experiences as tremendous gifts, the memories of which sustain us in difficult times. Yet the most amazing gift is learning how to live in God when it seems like our prayers are not effective and no one is listening.
As Mark tells this story, the father says to Jesus, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.” Learning to live, even thrive in that tension - that’s how saints are made.
© 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.
The plight of the man and his son seems to have made Jesus cranky. Perhaps he was ticked off by the failure of his followers to act on the training they’d received and exercise the faith necessary to take authority over evil. Maybe that time on the mountain in the blessing of his Father, the sojourn with Moses and Elijah, made him anxious to be done with the messy business of saving humanity from itself. Maybe he was reacting to the pervasiveness of evil in the world.
It’s comforting to know that Jesus himself experienced the kind of letdown we so often do when “regular” life intrudes upon any spiritual serenity we’ve managed to find. But regular life is where we live, not up the mountain but at its base. Jesus did not lift himself above the mess, but plunged into it, to experience it and to redeem it. In bringing his spirit into it, he restored peace.
How can we find the balance between expecting blessing, expecting to dwell in the experience of God even in the midst of ordinary days, and not base our expectations upon our spiritual high points? How might we learn to cultivate the awareness of the Spirit in, with and through the human mess in which we live, both for our own wellbeing and so we can bring Christ’s restoring peace into all situations?
That, one might say, is the task of the spiritual life. It is why we develop and strengthen spiritual practices that keep our faith strong and our peace pervasive, even in the most challenging and unpeaceful circumstances. We celebrate the mountaintop experiences as tremendous gifts, the memories of which sustain us in difficult times. Yet the most amazing gift is learning how to live in God when it seems like our prayers are not effective and no one is listening.
As Mark tells this story, the father says to Jesus, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.” Learning to live, even thrive in that tension - that’s how saints are made.
© 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.
2-27-25 - In a Cloud
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Have you ever found yourself inside a cloud? A fog rolls in and you are completely enveloped in white, your visibility of anything beyond your own form completely obscured. It is a deeply disorienting experience. And what if that cloud began to speak? …a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
Of course, on the mount of Transfiguration, it was not the cloud speaking, it was God. But why in a cloud? Maybe the blocking of other senses allowed the disciples to hear more acutely the voice of God, and its message. And what a message, so similar to what some heard at Jesus’ baptism, "This is my Son," but with the added command, “Listen to him.” Their ears confirmed what they had seen with their eyes when Jesus was transfigured before them. Later, when tempted to doubt, they had another form of authority on which to rest. And when they were ready to talk – perhaps after Jesus’ resurrection? – they had quite a story to tell, supported by three witnesses.
How does God get our attention? We are often so enveloped in activities and media and dashing here and there, responding to so many stimuli, it can be hard for the voice of God to get through. Perhaps we should put ourselves in a cloud periodically, dramatically reduce the input. One might say that is what the practice of centering prayer or meditation achieves – we enter a cloud of soft quiet, where we see little and hear only silence.
That is also what happens on a sabbath day or a retreat, whether for a few hours or a few days: we slip into a simpler rhythm of meals, rest, walks, study, prayer, with fewer choices to make. As we give ourselves to the simplicity and the silence, eventually God’s voice begins to get through.
One of the great classics of Christian spirituality is a 14th century book called The Cloud of Unknowing (the link is to an edition I like), whose author suggests that God is to be found not in knowledge and evidence so much as in absence and mystery. It’s not the way we might think of seeking God in our take-charge, work-for-what-you-want culture. But that medieval mystic was on to something. Waiting, not chasing, may be more in line with God's ways.
Perhaps that’s what God does when we are in the clouds, reminds us that the deepest knowledge is not found in what we can see or figure out for ourselves. The deepest Truth can only come from God, who speaks in a sound of sheer silence, and invites us into relationship.
© 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.
Have you ever found yourself inside a cloud? A fog rolls in and you are completely enveloped in white, your visibility of anything beyond your own form completely obscured. It is a deeply disorienting experience. And what if that cloud began to speak? …a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
Of course, on the mount of Transfiguration, it was not the cloud speaking, it was God. But why in a cloud? Maybe the blocking of other senses allowed the disciples to hear more acutely the voice of God, and its message. And what a message, so similar to what some heard at Jesus’ baptism, "This is my Son," but with the added command, “Listen to him.” Their ears confirmed what they had seen with their eyes when Jesus was transfigured before them. Later, when tempted to doubt, they had another form of authority on which to rest. And when they were ready to talk – perhaps after Jesus’ resurrection? – they had quite a story to tell, supported by three witnesses.
How does God get our attention? We are often so enveloped in activities and media and dashing here and there, responding to so many stimuli, it can be hard for the voice of God to get through. Perhaps we should put ourselves in a cloud periodically, dramatically reduce the input. One might say that is what the practice of centering prayer or meditation achieves – we enter a cloud of soft quiet, where we see little and hear only silence.
That is also what happens on a sabbath day or a retreat, whether for a few hours or a few days: we slip into a simpler rhythm of meals, rest, walks, study, prayer, with fewer choices to make. As we give ourselves to the simplicity and the silence, eventually God’s voice begins to get through.
One of the great classics of Christian spirituality is a 14th century book called The Cloud of Unknowing (the link is to an edition I like), whose author suggests that God is to be found not in knowledge and evidence so much as in absence and mystery. It’s not the way we might think of seeking God in our take-charge, work-for-what-you-want culture. But that medieval mystic was on to something. Waiting, not chasing, may be more in line with God's ways.
Perhaps that’s what God does when we are in the clouds, reminds us that the deepest knowledge is not found in what we can see or figure out for ourselves. The deepest Truth can only come from God, who speaks in a sound of sheer silence, and invites us into relationship.
© 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.
2-26-25 - Famous Friends
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I can be a name-dropper. If I have a connection with someone considered important or influential in some realm or other, and I can work it into the conversation at all naturally, it’s in. I’m not unique; social media shows that many people bask in the reflected glow of the company they keep.
Well, Jesus one-ups all the name-droppers in the world. His important friends – about as influential as they come in ancient Israel’s history – simply materialize up on that mountain, to the astonishment of his three followers: Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
Not only can Peter, James and John see these men with Jesus, they can hear their conversation. Moses and Elijah and Jesus are speaking outside of time as we know it. They are discussing future events, Jesus' upcoming passion, death, resurrection and ascension, as fully as if they had already occurred. In God-time, eternal time, they already had.
Why would Moses and Elijah show up in this transcendent experience? Maybe because they represent the Law and the Prophets, the foundation of Hebrew religious tradition. Maybe because they were among the few who are recorded as having seen or had close encounters with God. And maybe they were there as a confirming sign to Jesus’ followers that the claims he made about himself and his mission in this world were true. At times when they might doubt the whole thing, they had this memory to keep them on track.
When we begin to get close to someone, we soon find ourselves curious about their friends and connections. People can rise and fall in our esteem based on who they surround themselves with, who admires and respects them, and who does not. So these three men, simple fishermen, already being drawn close into relationship with Jesus and aware of the lowliness of many of his companions, are given this glimpse into how exalted his connections could be. "Whoa, he hangs out with Moses! Can I get a selfie?”
As we try to get to know this Jesus better ourselves, without the benefit of his incarnate form, we too can explore who his friends and connections are. And as we seek to make him known, we can “out” ourselves as his friends, so others might learn more about him through knowing us. What kind of representatives are we? How well do our churches convey the grace and love for which Jesus is known?
It’s a big responsibility. Thankfully, it gets easier the more comfortable we become with Jesus. There is no higher name to drop – and he told us to drop his name liberally. Indeed, heaven and earth are waiting for us to do so.
© 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 can be a name-dropper. If I have a connection with someone considered important or influential in some realm or other, and I can work it into the conversation at all naturally, it’s in. I’m not unique; social media shows that many people bask in the reflected glow of the company they keep.
Well, Jesus one-ups all the name-droppers in the world. His important friends – about as influential as they come in ancient Israel’s history – simply materialize up on that mountain, to the astonishment of his three followers: Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
Not only can Peter, James and John see these men with Jesus, they can hear their conversation. Moses and Elijah and Jesus are speaking outside of time as we know it. They are discussing future events, Jesus' upcoming passion, death, resurrection and ascension, as fully as if they had already occurred. In God-time, eternal time, they already had.
Why would Moses and Elijah show up in this transcendent experience? Maybe because they represent the Law and the Prophets, the foundation of Hebrew religious tradition. Maybe because they were among the few who are recorded as having seen or had close encounters with God. And maybe they were there as a confirming sign to Jesus’ followers that the claims he made about himself and his mission in this world were true. At times when they might doubt the whole thing, they had this memory to keep them on track.
When we begin to get close to someone, we soon find ourselves curious about their friends and connections. People can rise and fall in our esteem based on who they surround themselves with, who admires and respects them, and who does not. So these three men, simple fishermen, already being drawn close into relationship with Jesus and aware of the lowliness of many of his companions, are given this glimpse into how exalted his connections could be. "Whoa, he hangs out with Moses! Can I get a selfie?”
As we try to get to know this Jesus better ourselves, without the benefit of his incarnate form, we too can explore who his friends and connections are. And as we seek to make him known, we can “out” ourselves as his friends, so others might learn more about him through knowing us. What kind of representatives are we? How well do our churches convey the grace and love for which Jesus is known?
It’s a big responsibility. Thankfully, it gets easier the more comfortable we become with Jesus. There is no higher name to drop – and he told us to drop his name liberally. Indeed, heaven and earth are waiting for us to do so.
© 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.
2-25-25 - Dazzling
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
The word “dazzling” doesn’t appear enough in the Bible. Nor do “marvelous,” “enchanting,” “super” or other movie poster adjectives. No wonder some people think it’s a dull book. But we do get dazzled in this week’s story – blindingly so. Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.
It’s funny how you can read a story a hundred times, and on the 101st reading see it in a new way. I’ve always thought Jesus was glowing, radiating light from within, as though the veil of his human body became translucent and revealed his form as pure light, pure energy. Maybe. But then why would his clothes become dazzling white? How would light from within do that?
It occurs to me that maybe he was reflecting the light of God, suddenly revealed up there on that mountain, that God was both within Jesus and without, all around. The Exodus story (our Hebrew Bible reading Sunday) tells us “Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.” Maybe Jesus was reflecting light, not generating it; enough light to make Jesus’ face look different, to make his whole being dazzle.
What difference does it make whether the light came from within or without? I’m interested in whether and how we might reflect the light of God, and what it might do to our faces. I don’t mean that our faces will light up like Christmas trees in the presence of God – though that would surely get some attention. But what if others could see that we reflect a holiness, a power from outside us? I’ve been told that sometimes when I sing or lead worship, my face glows, and sometimes when I pray for healing, I feel an exhilaration that must show on my face. Is that a tiny, tiny bit of what Jesus manifest that day?
Perhaps you’ve known someone whose outward aspect changed when they began to center their life on Christ. Our “default expressions,” which we sometimes catch in store windows or mirrors, often reflect care, anxiety, weariness, or bitterness. What if they reflected the love and grace and assurance of God?
How might that happen? By catching the God-reflection off holy people and holy places. By spending more time intentionally in God’s presence, and letting that relationship shape us. It always seems to come back to that. Shedding our human nature and taking on God-Life doesn't come from a book or a building; it comes from relationship with Jesus. All spiritual practices exist for that: to deepen our relationship with God.
I don’t know that we will see Jesus lit up this side of glory, but I do believe that his light reflected on us can be dazzling. So dare to dazzle!
© 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.
The word “dazzling” doesn’t appear enough in the Bible. Nor do “marvelous,” “enchanting,” “super” or other movie poster adjectives. No wonder some people think it’s a dull book. But we do get dazzled in this week’s story – blindingly so. Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.
It’s funny how you can read a story a hundred times, and on the 101st reading see it in a new way. I’ve always thought Jesus was glowing, radiating light from within, as though the veil of his human body became translucent and revealed his form as pure light, pure energy. Maybe. But then why would his clothes become dazzling white? How would light from within do that?
It occurs to me that maybe he was reflecting the light of God, suddenly revealed up there on that mountain, that God was both within Jesus and without, all around. The Exodus story (our Hebrew Bible reading Sunday) tells us “Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.” Maybe Jesus was reflecting light, not generating it; enough light to make Jesus’ face look different, to make his whole being dazzle.
What difference does it make whether the light came from within or without? I’m interested in whether and how we might reflect the light of God, and what it might do to our faces. I don’t mean that our faces will light up like Christmas trees in the presence of God – though that would surely get some attention. But what if others could see that we reflect a holiness, a power from outside us? I’ve been told that sometimes when I sing or lead worship, my face glows, and sometimes when I pray for healing, I feel an exhilaration that must show on my face. Is that a tiny, tiny bit of what Jesus manifest that day?
Perhaps you’ve known someone whose outward aspect changed when they began to center their life on Christ. Our “default expressions,” which we sometimes catch in store windows or mirrors, often reflect care, anxiety, weariness, or bitterness. What if they reflected the love and grace and assurance of God?
How might that happen? By catching the God-reflection off holy people and holy places. By spending more time intentionally in God’s presence, and letting that relationship shape us. It always seems to come back to that. Shedding our human nature and taking on God-Life doesn't come from a book or a building; it comes from relationship with Jesus. All spiritual practices exist for that: to deepen our relationship with God.
I don’t know that we will see Jesus lit up this side of glory, but I do believe that his light reflected on us can be dazzling. So dare to dazzle!
© 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.
2-24-25 - Up the Mountain
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
We have had a long Epiphany this year. Yet no matter what stories we visit or people we meet during this season, we always end up on the mountaintop with Jesus and three of his closest followers, with Jesus’ big “reveal.” Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray.
In the Bible, mountains are places where people encounter God. On Mount Moriah, Abraham offers to sacrifice his son and is spared by God. On Mount Sinai, Moses meets with God, and when he descends, his face shines so brightly people are blinded. On Mount Horeb, Elijah catches a glimpse of God. People also meet God in deserts and towns and watery places, but the height and majesty of mountains seem to make them particularly conducive to theophanies.
Maybe it's because mountaintops are “away places.” Climbing them generally takes some effort. We need to plan our expeditions, bring lunch and water - or, if it’s a really big mountain, weeks’ worth of supplies. We have to make sure we’re fit enough to make the climb, and maybe surround ourselves with people we want to hike with.
And we have expectations – of beauty and grandeur, of great vistas and intimate moments with the natural world. We expect hard climbing but also some flat ground and downward slopes. And we hope to see something at the top that we can see from nowhere else on earth, the big picture that puts our lives into perspective.
The life of faith can be like that, with hills and valleys on its route. We know God is present in the lowlands (as Jesus’ followers discover at the base of the mountain in our gospel reading this week). But we think maybe we’ll have a close encounter with God on the heights, one that will help us through the more challenging parts of our life's journey.
I don’t know what Peter, James and John expected when Jesus invited them along on his hike – certainly not what they experienced. They probably anticipated some rich time of conversation and contemplation with their master and friend. And so should we. Let’s make this climb with Jesus this week as a training run for the deeper excursion into God we might make during Lent.
What are your expectations of time with God? What do you dread?
What provisions do you want to carry for going deeper in the Spirit? Who else do you want along?
This story is very familiar to longtime churchgoers, but I pray we will have a new encounter with it this week. After all, we can hike up the same hills time and again, and never experience them quite the same way. May it be like that with this strange and extraordinary tale of Encounter.
© 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 have had a long Epiphany this year. Yet no matter what stories we visit or people we meet during this season, we always end up on the mountaintop with Jesus and three of his closest followers, with Jesus’ big “reveal.” Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray.
In the Bible, mountains are places where people encounter God. On Mount Moriah, Abraham offers to sacrifice his son and is spared by God. On Mount Sinai, Moses meets with God, and when he descends, his face shines so brightly people are blinded. On Mount Horeb, Elijah catches a glimpse of God. People also meet God in deserts and towns and watery places, but the height and majesty of mountains seem to make them particularly conducive to theophanies.
Maybe it's because mountaintops are “away places.” Climbing them generally takes some effort. We need to plan our expeditions, bring lunch and water - or, if it’s a really big mountain, weeks’ worth of supplies. We have to make sure we’re fit enough to make the climb, and maybe surround ourselves with people we want to hike with.
And we have expectations – of beauty and grandeur, of great vistas and intimate moments with the natural world. We expect hard climbing but also some flat ground and downward slopes. And we hope to see something at the top that we can see from nowhere else on earth, the big picture that puts our lives into perspective.
The life of faith can be like that, with hills and valleys on its route. We know God is present in the lowlands (as Jesus’ followers discover at the base of the mountain in our gospel reading this week). But we think maybe we’ll have a close encounter with God on the heights, one that will help us through the more challenging parts of our life's journey.
I don’t know what Peter, James and John expected when Jesus invited them along on his hike – certainly not what they experienced. They probably anticipated some rich time of conversation and contemplation with their master and friend. And so should we. Let’s make this climb with Jesus this week as a training run for the deeper excursion into God we might make during Lent.
What are your expectations of time with God? What do you dread?
What provisions do you want to carry for going deeper in the Spirit? Who else do you want along?
This story is very familiar to longtime churchgoers, but I pray we will have a new encounter with it this week. After all, we can hike up the same hills time and again, and never experience them quite the same way. May it be like that with this strange and extraordinary tale of Encounter.
© 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.
8-9-24 - Light of the World
You can listen to this reflection here. The gospel reading for the Feast of the Transfiguration is here.
Tuesday was the Feast of the Transfiguration. It is an odd event to celebrate, with its mystical magnificence and down-to-earth reactions from the three men who witnessed it. It is an event that takes place on a retreat, during prayer: Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them.
When Moses came down from Mt. Sinai after 40 days in God’s presence, his face shone so brightly people found it blinding. Perhaps there is a physiological effect when a human is in the fullness of God’s presence, as Jesus was in prayer that day. When I feel filled with the Spirit, my face gets hot – is that just a very limited manifestation of the same effect?
August 6 is also the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima, where a blinding light heralded not a divine manifestation but the unleashing of unimaginable destructive force, which vaporized some people, burned others alive and killed or sickened a whole populace. Between 90,000 and 146,000 people died as a result of the atomic bombing, (39,000-80,000 in Nagasaki); roughly half of the deaths in each city occurred on the first day. Some maintain that killing prevented a much greater slaughter had the war continued; we will never know. We must live with what happened, and mourn the children and elderly and families, and survivors who were never again the same.
On the face of it these two events have nothing in common save a date of commemoration. But the power displayed in Jesus on that mountain and the dazzling light have forged a connection of sorts in my mind. The confluence invites us to remember that light does not always signal the presence of God; after all, one name in the bible for the devil is Lucifer, which means “light-bearer.” And though God is the most powerful agent in the universe, there are other powers which humans can access as well. In fact, when a person gives him or herself over wholly to evil, he can become quite powerful and unleash unbelievable and wide-ranging destruction.
Yet even such people can be countered by those who know the true light, the One who said he was the Light of the World. And He has called us to bear this true light, to come against the forces of darkness with the power that is in the Name of Jesus. Wherever we see destruction unleashed today, whether on our borders, or in the tyranny of a drug lord in a broken neighborhood, or a dictator with no regard for the wellbeing of his people, or a corporation with no regard for the future of our planet, we can invoke the greater light we’ve been promised in Christ.
We can speak truth to power, and justice to oppression. We can sit with those in terror for their lives, bearing witness, doing our best to ensure they are treated justly. And how do we do this? By inviting the power of the Spirit to fill us as we pray and as we do ministry. It is God’s work; we are merely the vessels. And God will prevail. Whether or not our faces shine with God’s light, as we serve and proclaim and carry forth the greater light of Jesus Christ, the flashes of evil will be put down under his feet. God will be made known.
© 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.
Tuesday was the Feast of the Transfiguration. It is an odd event to celebrate, with its mystical magnificence and down-to-earth reactions from the three men who witnessed it. It is an event that takes place on a retreat, during prayer: Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them.
When Moses came down from Mt. Sinai after 40 days in God’s presence, his face shone so brightly people found it blinding. Perhaps there is a physiological effect when a human is in the fullness of God’s presence, as Jesus was in prayer that day. When I feel filled with the Spirit, my face gets hot – is that just a very limited manifestation of the same effect?
August 6 is also the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima, where a blinding light heralded not a divine manifestation but the unleashing of unimaginable destructive force, which vaporized some people, burned others alive and killed or sickened a whole populace. Between 90,000 and 146,000 people died as a result of the atomic bombing, (39,000-80,000 in Nagasaki); roughly half of the deaths in each city occurred on the first day. Some maintain that killing prevented a much greater slaughter had the war continued; we will never know. We must live with what happened, and mourn the children and elderly and families, and survivors who were never again the same.
On the face of it these two events have nothing in common save a date of commemoration. But the power displayed in Jesus on that mountain and the dazzling light have forged a connection of sorts in my mind. The confluence invites us to remember that light does not always signal the presence of God; after all, one name in the bible for the devil is Lucifer, which means “light-bearer.” And though God is the most powerful agent in the universe, there are other powers which humans can access as well. In fact, when a person gives him or herself over wholly to evil, he can become quite powerful and unleash unbelievable and wide-ranging destruction.
Yet even such people can be countered by those who know the true light, the One who said he was the Light of the World. And He has called us to bear this true light, to come against the forces of darkness with the power that is in the Name of Jesus. Wherever we see destruction unleashed today, whether on our borders, or in the tyranny of a drug lord in a broken neighborhood, or a dictator with no regard for the wellbeing of his people, or a corporation with no regard for the future of our planet, we can invoke the greater light we’ve been promised in Christ.
We can speak truth to power, and justice to oppression. We can sit with those in terror for their lives, bearing witness, doing our best to ensure they are treated justly. And how do we do this? By inviting the power of the Spirit to fill us as we pray and as we do ministry. It is God’s work; we are merely the vessels. And God will prevail. Whether or not our faces shine with God’s light, as we serve and proclaim and carry forth the greater light of Jesus Christ, the flashes of evil will be put down under his feet. God will be made known.
© 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.
2-5-24 - Prepping the Witness
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Passages in the gospels often begin with phrases like, “On the third day…”, or “In the sixth month,” that require you to look back and see what came before. So it is with this week’s passage, the story of Jesus’ transfiguration: Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves.
Six days earlier, Peter had identified Jesus as the Messiah. Then Jesus had told his followers about taking up your cross, and how the Son of Man would have to suffer and die. Maybe Jesus thought his closest disciples needed an experience to match their head knowledge. Maybe it was time Peter saw how right his first answer had been. So up they went, to a high mountain. Apart. By themselves. Just the three fishermen and Jesus. Quite a treat – and retreat.
The Transfiguration is one of the odder stories in the gospels, one that we read at the end of the Epiphany season every year, maybe because it was the penultimate revelation of Jesus’ divinity. For a short while on that mountain, these men saw Jesus’ true nature revealed. Why do you suppose Jesus gave them that glimpse of glory?
Perhaps he was setting up his witnesses. Peter already believed Jesus to be the Son of God; now let him see it, and other witnesses with him, so these men could later testify to Jesus’ messianic identity. Afterward, he instructs them not to tell anyone until after “the Son of Man is risen from the dead,” a phrase that doubtless made no sense to them. But later it would. And then this experience would reinforce their faith so that they could boldly testify to the truth of that greater revelation.
One New Testament definition of “apostle” is a person who knew Jesus in his earthly ministry and could witness to his resurrection life. I’m intrigued by the notion that here Jesus is giving those who will later serve as the key witnesses to the in-breaking Kingdom of God a crucial experience to strengthen their faith. Because it is the witness of these men and women that laid the structure of the Church. They are the reason we are here.
And we are here to carry on their apostolic witness. We are here to testify to the glory and power and love of the Risen Christ as we experience him in our lives. Perhaps we don't get the dazzling display Peter, James and John got to see… and maybe we don’t need to. We are apostles on the other side of Jesus’ resurrection. Jesus gives us experiences that strengthen our faith; we can see his power poured out whenever we speak or pray or love or act in His name.
If we don’t feel we have had enough experience of Christ to truly bear witness… well, there’s a prayer. Ask the Holy Spirit to make the presence and peace and power of God known to you. I believe God will answer that prayer, as we open ourselves. I truly believe God wants us to experience God’s goodness. Jesus is still preparing witnesses - you and me.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Passages in the gospels often begin with phrases like, “On the third day…”, or “In the sixth month,” that require you to look back and see what came before. So it is with this week’s passage, the story of Jesus’ transfiguration: Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves.
Six days earlier, Peter had identified Jesus as the Messiah. Then Jesus had told his followers about taking up your cross, and how the Son of Man would have to suffer and die. Maybe Jesus thought his closest disciples needed an experience to match their head knowledge. Maybe it was time Peter saw how right his first answer had been. So up they went, to a high mountain. Apart. By themselves. Just the three fishermen and Jesus. Quite a treat – and retreat.
The Transfiguration is one of the odder stories in the gospels, one that we read at the end of the Epiphany season every year, maybe because it was the penultimate revelation of Jesus’ divinity. For a short while on that mountain, these men saw Jesus’ true nature revealed. Why do you suppose Jesus gave them that glimpse of glory?
Perhaps he was setting up his witnesses. Peter already believed Jesus to be the Son of God; now let him see it, and other witnesses with him, so these men could later testify to Jesus’ messianic identity. Afterward, he instructs them not to tell anyone until after “the Son of Man is risen from the dead,” a phrase that doubtless made no sense to them. But later it would. And then this experience would reinforce their faith so that they could boldly testify to the truth of that greater revelation.
One New Testament definition of “apostle” is a person who knew Jesus in his earthly ministry and could witness to his resurrection life. I’m intrigued by the notion that here Jesus is giving those who will later serve as the key witnesses to the in-breaking Kingdom of God a crucial experience to strengthen their faith. Because it is the witness of these men and women that laid the structure of the Church. They are the reason we are here.
And we are here to carry on their apostolic witness. We are here to testify to the glory and power and love of the Risen Christ as we experience him in our lives. Perhaps we don't get the dazzling display Peter, James and John got to see… and maybe we don’t need to. We are apostles on the other side of Jesus’ resurrection. Jesus gives us experiences that strengthen our faith; we can see his power poured out whenever we speak or pray or love or act in His name.
If we don’t feel we have had enough experience of Christ to truly bear witness… well, there’s a prayer. Ask the Holy Spirit to make the presence and peace and power of God known to you. I believe God will answer that prayer, as we open ourselves. I truly believe God wants us to experience God’s goodness. Jesus is still preparing witnesses - you and me.
© Kate Heichler, 2024. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
8-4-23 - Power and Light
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I am intrigued by the physics of the Transfiguration. Did Jesus become filled with blinding light, did he reflect the light of God – or did he become light? My pet theory is that in that moment Jesus let slip the veil of human flesh that contained him during his incarnate life in this world, and manifest the light of which he was fashioned. “I am the light of the world,” he said. Physics tells us that light is one form of energy. God, the essential energy of the cosmos, can manifest anywhere along the spectrum – perhaps in that moment the Son of God became pure, blinding light.
The idea of God as pure energy, the source of all energy, helps to make sense of the miraculous, and aligns with much scientific thinking (not that I understand scientific thinking well enough to talk about how it aligns… I only know many physicists think so). If I had my druthers, I would refer to what Jesus called “the kingdom of God” as “the energy field of God” – that seems a more descriptive label.
If all matter is really energy, it makes sense that Jesus invites us to tap into the Energy that launched the universe, in which all things are restored to wholeness. That is what we are doing when we pray, “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” We are praying ourselves into the energy field of God, and as we become comfortable channeling that energy, we become better conductors of it into the realm of this world.
Of course, energy can be harnessed to destruction as well as growth. The same Sunday when we celebrate the Feast of the Transfiguration, August 6th, is the day that marks the atomic bombings of Hiroshima in 1945. In that blinding light was unleashed enough energy to flatten a city, turn many of its citizens into walking torches, and poison the survivors with radiation that affected generations. Without arguing the factors that brought about that event, we can agree on the tragedy of death and destruction of ordinary people on such a scale. God’s gifts to us can be used to build up or to tear down, to give life or to bring death.
God has made us stewards of the power that generated worlds. Even now, God invites us to dwell in his energy field, to become conductors of Holy Spirit power into broken people and systems, governments and communities. Perhaps this power of God, wielded in faith, can even heal the damage we have done to this earth we call home.
Where are you being called to be a conduit of light and energy? God’s power and light?
Come Sunday, let us grieve the estimated 135,000 or so lives lost 78 years ago, and the human ways of dealing with conflict that brought about such an event. And let us celebrate the power Jesus showed for just a moment on that mountain, so his followers would have a visual image of the Life of God that he demonstrated in every word and miracle, even in his death, and certainly in his resurrection. That power is given to us. It is made perfect in our weakness. Let God wield it through you.
I am intrigued by the physics of the Transfiguration. Did Jesus become filled with blinding light, did he reflect the light of God – or did he become light? My pet theory is that in that moment Jesus let slip the veil of human flesh that contained him during his incarnate life in this world, and manifest the light of which he was fashioned. “I am the light of the world,” he said. Physics tells us that light is one form of energy. God, the essential energy of the cosmos, can manifest anywhere along the spectrum – perhaps in that moment the Son of God became pure, blinding light.
The idea of God as pure energy, the source of all energy, helps to make sense of the miraculous, and aligns with much scientific thinking (not that I understand scientific thinking well enough to talk about how it aligns… I only know many physicists think so). If I had my druthers, I would refer to what Jesus called “the kingdom of God” as “the energy field of God” – that seems a more descriptive label.
If all matter is really energy, it makes sense that Jesus invites us to tap into the Energy that launched the universe, in which all things are restored to wholeness. That is what we are doing when we pray, “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” We are praying ourselves into the energy field of God, and as we become comfortable channeling that energy, we become better conductors of it into the realm of this world.
Of course, energy can be harnessed to destruction as well as growth. The same Sunday when we celebrate the Feast of the Transfiguration, August 6th, is the day that marks the atomic bombings of Hiroshima in 1945. In that blinding light was unleashed enough energy to flatten a city, turn many of its citizens into walking torches, and poison the survivors with radiation that affected generations. Without arguing the factors that brought about that event, we can agree on the tragedy of death and destruction of ordinary people on such a scale. God’s gifts to us can be used to build up or to tear down, to give life or to bring death.
God has made us stewards of the power that generated worlds. Even now, God invites us to dwell in his energy field, to become conductors of Holy Spirit power into broken people and systems, governments and communities. Perhaps this power of God, wielded in faith, can even heal the damage we have done to this earth we call home.
Where are you being called to be a conduit of light and energy? God’s power and light?
Come Sunday, let us grieve the estimated 135,000 or so lives lost 78 years ago, and the human ways of dealing with conflict that brought about such an event. And let us celebrate the power Jesus showed for just a moment on that mountain, so his followers would have a visual image of the Life of God that he demonstrated in every word and miracle, even in his death, and certainly in his resurrection. That power is given to us. It is made perfect in our weakness. Let God wield it through you.
8-3-23 - In a Cloud
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Have you ever found yourself in a cloud? Somewhere when a fog rolls in and you find yourself completely enveloped in white, your visibility of anything beyond your own form completely obscured? It is a deeply disorienting experience. Now, what if that cloud began to speak? …a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
Of course, on the mount of Transfiguration, it wasn’t the cloud speaking, it was God. But why in a cloud? Maybe the blocking of other senses allowed the disciples to focus more on the aural experience, the voice of God, and its message. And what about that message, so similar to what some heard at Jesus’ baptism, but with the added command, “Listen to him.” It was aural confirmation of visual evidence. When they were tempted to doubt, they had another form of authority on which to rest. And when they were ready to talk – perhaps after Jesus’ resurrection? – these three witnesses had quite a story to tell.
How does God get our attention? We can be so enveloped in activities and media and dashing here and there, responding to so many messages, it can be hard for the voice of God to get through. Perhaps we should choose to put ourselves in a cloud periodically, to dramatically reduce the stimuli, simplify the order of the day. One might say that is what the practice of centering prayer achieves – entering a cloud of soft quiet, where we see little and hear only silence.
That is also what happens on retreat, whether for a few hours or a few days: we slip into a simpler rhythm of meals, rest, walks, study, prayer, with fewer choices to make. And as we give ourselves to the simplicity and the silence, eventually God’s voice begins to get through.
One of the great classics of Christian spirituality is a 14th century book called The Cloud of Unknowing (the link is to an edition I like very much), whose author suggests that God is to be found not in knowledge and evidence so much as in absence and mystery. It’s not the way we usually think of seeking God in our take-charge, work-for-what-you-want culture. But that medieval mystic was on to something.
Perhaps that’s what God was doing with that cloud, reminding us that the deepest knowledge comes from what we cannot see or figure out for ourselves. The deepest Truth can only come from God, who speaks in a sound of sheer silence.
Have you ever found yourself in a cloud? Somewhere when a fog rolls in and you find yourself completely enveloped in white, your visibility of anything beyond your own form completely obscured? It is a deeply disorienting experience. Now, what if that cloud began to speak? …a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
Of course, on the mount of Transfiguration, it wasn’t the cloud speaking, it was God. But why in a cloud? Maybe the blocking of other senses allowed the disciples to focus more on the aural experience, the voice of God, and its message. And what about that message, so similar to what some heard at Jesus’ baptism, but with the added command, “Listen to him.” It was aural confirmation of visual evidence. When they were tempted to doubt, they had another form of authority on which to rest. And when they were ready to talk – perhaps after Jesus’ resurrection? – these three witnesses had quite a story to tell.
How does God get our attention? We can be so enveloped in activities and media and dashing here and there, responding to so many messages, it can be hard for the voice of God to get through. Perhaps we should choose to put ourselves in a cloud periodically, to dramatically reduce the stimuli, simplify the order of the day. One might say that is what the practice of centering prayer achieves – entering a cloud of soft quiet, where we see little and hear only silence.
That is also what happens on retreat, whether for a few hours or a few days: we slip into a simpler rhythm of meals, rest, walks, study, prayer, with fewer choices to make. And as we give ourselves to the simplicity and the silence, eventually God’s voice begins to get through.
One of the great classics of Christian spirituality is a 14th century book called The Cloud of Unknowing (the link is to an edition I like very much), whose author suggests that God is to be found not in knowledge and evidence so much as in absence and mystery. It’s not the way we usually think of seeking God in our take-charge, work-for-what-you-want culture. But that medieval mystic was on to something.
Perhaps that’s what God was doing with that cloud, reminding us that the deepest knowledge comes from what we cannot see or figure out for ourselves. The deepest Truth can only come from God, who speaks in a sound of sheer silence.
8-2-23 - Company You Keep
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
I confess I am a name-dropper. If I have a connection with someone considered important or influential in some realm or other, and I can work it into the conversation at all naturally, it’s in. I’m not unique; many people bask in the reflected glow of the company they keep.
Well, Jesus one-ups all the name-droppers in the world. His important friends – about as influential as they come in the history of Israel – simply materialize up on that mountain, to the astonishment of his three followers: Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
Not only can Peter, James and John see these men with Jesus, they can hear their conversation. Moses and Elijah and Jesus are speaking outside of time as we know it. They are discussing future events, Jesus' upcoming passion, death, resurrection and ascension, as fully as if they had already occurred. In God-time, Eternal Time, they already had.
Why would Moses and Elijah show up in this transcendent experience? In part because they represent the Law and the Prophets, the foundation of Israel’s religious tradition. In part because they were among the few recorded as having seen God, or having close encounters with God. And maybe they were there as a confirming sign to Jesus’ followers that the claims he made about himself and his mission in this world were true. At times when they might doubt, they had this memory to keep them on track.
When we are getting to know a friend or partner, we soon find ourselves curious about their friends and connections. People can rise and fall in our esteem based on who they surround themselves with, who admires and respects them, or not. So these disciples, already drawn close into a relationship with Jesus, aware of the lowliness of many of his companions, are given this glimpse into his more exalted connections. "Wow, he even hangs out with Moses!"
As we try to get to know this Jesus better ourselves, without the benefit of his incarnate form, we too can explore who his friends and connections are. And as we seek to make him known, we might “out” ourselves as his friends, so others can learn more about him through knowing us. How well does our church convey the grace and love for which Jesus is known? What kind of representatives are we?
It’s a big responsibility. Thankfully, it gets easier the more comfortable we get knowing Jesus. There is no higher name to drop - and he told us to drop his name liberally. Indeed, heaven and earth are waiting for us to do so.
I confess I am a name-dropper. If I have a connection with someone considered important or influential in some realm or other, and I can work it into the conversation at all naturally, it’s in. I’m not unique; many people bask in the reflected glow of the company they keep.
Well, Jesus one-ups all the name-droppers in the world. His important friends – about as influential as they come in the history of Israel – simply materialize up on that mountain, to the astonishment of his three followers: Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
Not only can Peter, James and John see these men with Jesus, they can hear their conversation. Moses and Elijah and Jesus are speaking outside of time as we know it. They are discussing future events, Jesus' upcoming passion, death, resurrection and ascension, as fully as if they had already occurred. In God-time, Eternal Time, they already had.
Why would Moses and Elijah show up in this transcendent experience? In part because they represent the Law and the Prophets, the foundation of Israel’s religious tradition. In part because they were among the few recorded as having seen God, or having close encounters with God. And maybe they were there as a confirming sign to Jesus’ followers that the claims he made about himself and his mission in this world were true. At times when they might doubt, they had this memory to keep them on track.
When we are getting to know a friend or partner, we soon find ourselves curious about their friends and connections. People can rise and fall in our esteem based on who they surround themselves with, who admires and respects them, or not. So these disciples, already drawn close into a relationship with Jesus, aware of the lowliness of many of his companions, are given this glimpse into his more exalted connections. "Wow, he even hangs out with Moses!"
As we try to get to know this Jesus better ourselves, without the benefit of his incarnate form, we too can explore who his friends and connections are. And as we seek to make him known, we might “out” ourselves as his friends, so others can learn more about him through knowing us. How well does our church convey the grace and love for which Jesus is known? What kind of representatives are we?
It’s a big responsibility. Thankfully, it gets easier the more comfortable we get knowing Jesus. There is no higher name to drop - and he told us to drop his name liberally. Indeed, heaven and earth are waiting for us to do so.
8-1-23 - Dare To Dazzle
You can listen to this reflection here.
The word “dazzling” doesn’t appear enough in the Bible, in my opinion. Nor do “marvelous,” “enchanting,” “super” or other movie poster adjectives. No wonder people think it’s a dull book, full of platitudes and proscriptions. But we do get dazzled in this week’s story – blindingly so.
Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.
One can read a story a hundred times and form one view, and on the 101st reading suddenly see it in a new way. I’ve always thought Jesus was somehow glowing, radiating light from within, as though the veil of his human body became translucent and revealed his form as pure energy. Maybe. But then why did his clothes become dazzling white? How would light from within do that?
Could he have been reflecting the light of God, suddenly revealed up there on that mountain? Was God both within Jesus and without, all around? The Exodus story (our Hebrew Bible reading this Sunday) tells us that “Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.” Maybe Jesus was reflecting light, not generating; reflecting enough light to make his face look different, his whole being dazzle.
Does it make any difference, you may be asking, whether the light came from within or without? I am interested in whether and how we might reflect the light of God, since it can grow dim inside us, and what it might do to our faces. I don’t mean that our faces will light up like Christmas trees in the presence of God – though that would surely get some attention. But what if others could see that we reflect a presence, a holiness, a power from outside us? I’ve been told that sometimes when I lead worship songs, my face glows, and sometimes when I pray for healing, I feel an exhilaration that must show on my face. Is that a tiny, tiny bit of what Jesus manifest that day?
Or perhaps you’ve known someone’s facial expressions to change when they’ve begun to center their lives on Christ. Our “default expressions,” which we sometimes catch in store windows or mirrors, often reflect care, or anxiety, or weariness, or bitterness. What if they reflected the love and grace and assurance of God?
How might that happen? I guess by spending more time intentionally in God’s presence, and letting that relationship shape us. It always seems to come back to that. Shedding our human nature and taking on God-Life doesn't come from a book or a building; it comes from relationship with Jesus.
I don’t know that we will see Jesus lit up this side of glory, but I do believe that his light reflected in us can be dazzling. So dare to dazzle!
The word “dazzling” doesn’t appear enough in the Bible, in my opinion. Nor do “marvelous,” “enchanting,” “super” or other movie poster adjectives. No wonder people think it’s a dull book, full of platitudes and proscriptions. But we do get dazzled in this week’s story – blindingly so.
Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.
One can read a story a hundred times and form one view, and on the 101st reading suddenly see it in a new way. I’ve always thought Jesus was somehow glowing, radiating light from within, as though the veil of his human body became translucent and revealed his form as pure energy. Maybe. But then why did his clothes become dazzling white? How would light from within do that?
Could he have been reflecting the light of God, suddenly revealed up there on that mountain? Was God both within Jesus and without, all around? The Exodus story (our Hebrew Bible reading this Sunday) tells us that “Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.” Maybe Jesus was reflecting light, not generating; reflecting enough light to make his face look different, his whole being dazzle.
Does it make any difference, you may be asking, whether the light came from within or without? I am interested in whether and how we might reflect the light of God, since it can grow dim inside us, and what it might do to our faces. I don’t mean that our faces will light up like Christmas trees in the presence of God – though that would surely get some attention. But what if others could see that we reflect a presence, a holiness, a power from outside us? I’ve been told that sometimes when I lead worship songs, my face glows, and sometimes when I pray for healing, I feel an exhilaration that must show on my face. Is that a tiny, tiny bit of what Jesus manifest that day?
Or perhaps you’ve known someone’s facial expressions to change when they’ve begun to center their lives on Christ. Our “default expressions,” which we sometimes catch in store windows or mirrors, often reflect care, or anxiety, or weariness, or bitterness. What if they reflected the love and grace and assurance of God?
How might that happen? I guess by spending more time intentionally in God’s presence, and letting that relationship shape us. It always seems to come back to that. Shedding our human nature and taking on God-Life doesn't come from a book or a building; it comes from relationship with Jesus.
I don’t know that we will see Jesus lit up this side of glory, but I do believe that his light reflected in us can be dazzling. So dare to dazzle!
7-31-23 - Up the Mountain - Again
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Next week we celebrate the Feast of the Transfiguration, as it falls on a Sunday this year. What a great opportunity to do some summer climbing with Jesus. In the Bible, mountains are places where people often encounter God. On Mount Moriah, Abraham is spared by God from sacrificing his son Isaac. On Mount Sinai, Moses meets with God, his face so bright when he descends that people are blinded. On Mount Horeb, Elijah glimpses God. Something about the height and majesty of mountains makes them fertile ground for theophanies.
Maybe it's because mountain tops are “away places.” They generally take some effort to reach. We need to plan our expeditions, bring lunch and water - or, if it’s a really BIG mountain, weeks’ worth of supplies. We have to make sure we’re fit enough to make the climb, and maybe surround ourselves with people to hike with.
And we have expectations – of beauty and grandeur, of great vistas and intimate moments with the natural world. We expect hard climbs but also some flat ground and downward slopes. And we expect to see something at the top that we can see from nowhere else on earth, the big picture that puts our lives into perspective.
The life of faith can be like that, with hills and valleys. We know God is also found in the lowlands, but we hope to have a close encounter with God in the heights, one that will help us through the more challenging parts of our journey.
I don’t know what Peter, James and John expected when Jesus invited them along on his hike – certainly not what they experienced. They probably hoped for some rich time of conversation and contemplation with their master and friend. And so should we as we make this climb with Jesus.
What are your expectations of time with God? What do you dread?
What provisions do you want to carry for going deeper in the Spirit?
Next week we celebrate the Feast of the Transfiguration, as it falls on a Sunday this year. What a great opportunity to do some summer climbing with Jesus. In the Bible, mountains are places where people often encounter God. On Mount Moriah, Abraham is spared by God from sacrificing his son Isaac. On Mount Sinai, Moses meets with God, his face so bright when he descends that people are blinded. On Mount Horeb, Elijah glimpses God. Something about the height and majesty of mountains makes them fertile ground for theophanies.
Maybe it's because mountain tops are “away places.” They generally take some effort to reach. We need to plan our expeditions, bring lunch and water - or, if it’s a really BIG mountain, weeks’ worth of supplies. We have to make sure we’re fit enough to make the climb, and maybe surround ourselves with people to hike with.
And we have expectations – of beauty and grandeur, of great vistas and intimate moments with the natural world. We expect hard climbs but also some flat ground and downward slopes. And we expect to see something at the top that we can see from nowhere else on earth, the big picture that puts our lives into perspective.
The life of faith can be like that, with hills and valleys. We know God is also found in the lowlands, but we hope to have a close encounter with God in the heights, one that will help us through the more challenging parts of our journey.
I don’t know what Peter, James and John expected when Jesus invited them along on his hike – certainly not what they experienced. They probably hoped for some rich time of conversation and contemplation with their master and friend. And so should we as we make this climb with Jesus.
What are your expectations of time with God? What do you dread?
What provisions do you want to carry for going deeper in the Spirit?
Who else do you want along?
This is a very familiar story to lifelong churchgoers, but I pray we will have a new encounter with it this week. After all, we can hike up the same hills time and again and never experience them quite the same way. May it be like that with this strange and extraordinary tale of Encounter.
This is a very familiar story to lifelong churchgoers, but I pray we will have a new encounter with it this week. After all, we can hike up the same hills time and again and never experience them quite the same way. May it be like that with this strange and extraordinary tale of Encounter.
2-17-23 - Witnesses
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”
How nonchalant that sounds, “So, listen, guys, don’t say anything to the others about this until after, you know, I've been raised from the dead…” Say, what? Raised from… What?
Why do you suppose Jesus invited these three on this little retreat up the mountain? I have my theories: I think he wanted them to see more fully who he truly was, the divine identity which his humanity partially obscured. For a moment that veil was lifted and his “God-essence” shone through. Jesus needed them to see that to help them endure the trials he knew were coming, for him and for his band of followers. And he needed witnesses who could testify later, after his resurrection, when the conspiracy theorists and 1st century “truth-ers” and the “he didn’t really die” people got into the act. He needed three witnesses who could say what they’d seen, and what they’d heard.
And testify they did. In his second letter, Peter wrote, “We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. For he received honor and glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, ‘This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’ We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain.”
People who were determined not to believe may not have been swayed – but the eyewitness testimony from three leaders of integrity no doubt shored up the faith of many inclined to accept the Good News of resurrection life, and encouraged the movement of Jesus followers in the church's early months and years.
It’s not enough for us to be open to encounters with the living God, which I absolutely believe God desires for us. We also need to tell our stories, even at the risk of derision or doubt. We can give voice to our experiences of God, or to words we believe we have received from the Spirit. Such revelation can and should be measured against the revelation of Scripture, and confirmation from other believers, and ultimately by what fruit it bears in your life and ministry. But don’t keep quiet – somebody needs to hear your story; somebody needs to have their own story confirmed by hearing about yours; somebody needs that little nudge to take the step into faith in Jesus Christ.
Is there a “God-story” from your life that you haven’t told anyone, or haven’t told for a while? Recall it for yourself; even write it out, recover the details. And then ask the Spirit to lead you to someone who needs to hear that story. I believe it’ll happen. (Then you’ll have another story to tell!)
As Peter continued, “So we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed. You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.” Sometimes we are called to be that lamp shining in a dark place. Speak up.
As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”
How nonchalant that sounds, “So, listen, guys, don’t say anything to the others about this until after, you know, I've been raised from the dead…” Say, what? Raised from… What?
Why do you suppose Jesus invited these three on this little retreat up the mountain? I have my theories: I think he wanted them to see more fully who he truly was, the divine identity which his humanity partially obscured. For a moment that veil was lifted and his “God-essence” shone through. Jesus needed them to see that to help them endure the trials he knew were coming, for him and for his band of followers. And he needed witnesses who could testify later, after his resurrection, when the conspiracy theorists and 1st century “truth-ers” and the “he didn’t really die” people got into the act. He needed three witnesses who could say what they’d seen, and what they’d heard.
And testify they did. In his second letter, Peter wrote, “We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. For he received honor and glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, ‘This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’ We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain.”
People who were determined not to believe may not have been swayed – but the eyewitness testimony from three leaders of integrity no doubt shored up the faith of many inclined to accept the Good News of resurrection life, and encouraged the movement of Jesus followers in the church's early months and years.
It’s not enough for us to be open to encounters with the living God, which I absolutely believe God desires for us. We also need to tell our stories, even at the risk of derision or doubt. We can give voice to our experiences of God, or to words we believe we have received from the Spirit. Such revelation can and should be measured against the revelation of Scripture, and confirmation from other believers, and ultimately by what fruit it bears in your life and ministry. But don’t keep quiet – somebody needs to hear your story; somebody needs to have their own story confirmed by hearing about yours; somebody needs that little nudge to take the step into faith in Jesus Christ.
Is there a “God-story” from your life that you haven’t told anyone, or haven’t told for a while? Recall it for yourself; even write it out, recover the details. And then ask the Spirit to lead you to someone who needs to hear that story. I believe it’ll happen. (Then you’ll have another story to tell!)
As Peter continued, “So we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed. You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.” Sometimes we are called to be that lamp shining in a dark place. Speak up.
2-16-23 - Be Not Afraid
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
This is how I understand Jesus' transfiguration: that in this moment he is revealed as pure light, an energy form that radiated brightness. Whatever the cause, the effect was surely splendid, and probably terrifying. And to deepen the scary, it was followed by the appearance of two dead people, conversing as if alive. But none of this seems to frighten the watching disciples; Peter’s only reaction is to want to build three shelters so they can hang out together.
Yet, when a bright cloud comes over them, with a voice in it, suddenly they’re petrified: While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear.
We can absorb unusual experiences until there is too much “unusual” and our circuits overload. Or were the disciples fine as long as they could see – but when their sight was obscured by a cloud that spoke, then they panicked? Or was it that they knew in their spirits that God was speaking to them – and they could hear with their ears? OR was it what that voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” They must have heard the stories about Jesus’ baptism, when a voice from heaven was heard to say almost the same words. Were they overcome by fear because now it was unmistakable – that Jesus was in fact God's Son, holy, divine? Now there was no going back?
True movements of God that we experience with our physical senses tend to be deeply frightening – they’re so far outside our expectation. Many of us encounter God with our spiritual senses; that’s powerful enough. But when we perceive the holy with the same senses that engage the rest of life? Look out! We can’t pretend to be manufacturing it – we’re either crazy, or in God’s presence – and neither possibility is comforting. I only had one experience even remotely like that, on a retreat once, when I felt a room I was in filled with a presence that was so completely “Other,” it seemed to be God… I’ll never know if it was, because I ran from the room back to where other people were.
It can be hard for us to identify with the shock of recognizing Jesus as God… this is a story handed down to us rather than experienced first-hand. And for many it’s such a familiar story, it can be hard to feel the emotions being related. So let’s think today:
Every spiritual experience, no matter how deep or frightening, comes to an end. Our perceptions normalize; reality returns. And then we’re left with what? “No one, except Jesus himself alone.” Sounds like a pretty good deal to me…
This is how I understand Jesus' transfiguration: that in this moment he is revealed as pure light, an energy form that radiated brightness. Whatever the cause, the effect was surely splendid, and probably terrifying. And to deepen the scary, it was followed by the appearance of two dead people, conversing as if alive. But none of this seems to frighten the watching disciples; Peter’s only reaction is to want to build three shelters so they can hang out together.
Yet, when a bright cloud comes over them, with a voice in it, suddenly they’re petrified: While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear.
We can absorb unusual experiences until there is too much “unusual” and our circuits overload. Or were the disciples fine as long as they could see – but when their sight was obscured by a cloud that spoke, then they panicked? Or was it that they knew in their spirits that God was speaking to them – and they could hear with their ears? OR was it what that voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” They must have heard the stories about Jesus’ baptism, when a voice from heaven was heard to say almost the same words. Were they overcome by fear because now it was unmistakable – that Jesus was in fact God's Son, holy, divine? Now there was no going back?
True movements of God that we experience with our physical senses tend to be deeply frightening – they’re so far outside our expectation. Many of us encounter God with our spiritual senses; that’s powerful enough. But when we perceive the holy with the same senses that engage the rest of life? Look out! We can’t pretend to be manufacturing it – we’re either crazy, or in God’s presence – and neither possibility is comforting. I only had one experience even remotely like that, on a retreat once, when I felt a room I was in filled with a presence that was so completely “Other,” it seemed to be God… I’ll never know if it was, because I ran from the room back to where other people were.
It can be hard for us to identify with the shock of recognizing Jesus as God… this is a story handed down to us rather than experienced first-hand. And for many it’s such a familiar story, it can be hard to feel the emotions being related. So let’s think today:
- Are there times when you’ve been overcome by the presence of God in a way that scared you?
- Have your physical senses ever been overwhelmed so that you had to rely on spiritual perception?
- Does your expectation of God include experiences that seem supernatural, like this one?
- Do you think the Spirit wants you to be open to more? What are we really afraid of?
Every spiritual experience, no matter how deep or frightening, comes to an end. Our perceptions normalize; reality returns. And then we’re left with what? “No one, except Jesus himself alone.” Sounds like a pretty good deal to me…
2-15-23 - Building Booths
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Who among us doesn’t want to keep a good thing going, forever if possible? A perfect day, a lovely dinner, the “in-love” phase of a relationship… And we can’t. Days become twilight; meals yield to fullness and digestion; relationships evolve into other phases. Even the most fiery sunset dims, usually just about the time you get your camera ready.
But this was a really good thing, up there on that mountain – Jesus, and Moses, and Elijah. You don’t get bigger than that trifecta if you’re a Jew in occupied Israel in what would later be termed the first century.
Who among us doesn’t want to keep a good thing going, forever if possible? A perfect day, a lovely dinner, the “in-love” phase of a relationship… And we can’t. Days become twilight; meals yield to fullness and digestion; relationships evolve into other phases. Even the most fiery sunset dims, usually just about the time you get your camera ready.
But this was a really good thing, up there on that mountain – Jesus, and Moses, and Elijah. You don’t get bigger than that trifecta if you’re a Jew in occupied Israel in what would later be termed the first century.
Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
So helpful, our Peter. He’ll just whip out the hammer and nails and make three little huts (earlier translations rendered that "booths"), nothing fancy. And who among us doesn’t recognize that impulse? To fix it, capture it, make it last? I keep taking pictures of my cats in adorable poses, even when I know I've taken the same pictures before, even with other cats. Because I want to keep them forever.
Are there things in your life you’re afraid will change or end, that you’d like to fix in place, build a shrine to? Children, friends, homes, work? It’s great to love something or someone wonderful. But when we try to cling to that, we sometimes close off other gifts God has to give us, gifts that might build on the ones we have, blessings that might even include what we’re trying to keep, but allow that to grow into fullness. When we don’t try to save the precious things, but use and enjoy them, willing to have them end or run out, we often experience more abundance in our lives. When we enjoy the precious people, willing to see them grow up and even away, we experience a deeper, freer kind of love.
Today in prayer bring those people and things to mind, and offer them to God to bless. Offer them with open hands, and a heart willing to grow God-ward. God rarely takes away what we love – God just might show us something deeper and richer about that beloved than we can see from our current “holding” perspective.
It’s kind of funny, a fisherman offering to build a carpenter a hut. Maybe not as funny as that carpenter setting the bait and reeling those fisherman in to become the greatest catch of all, a catch that even includes us.
So helpful, our Peter. He’ll just whip out the hammer and nails and make three little huts (earlier translations rendered that "booths"), nothing fancy. And who among us doesn’t recognize that impulse? To fix it, capture it, make it last? I keep taking pictures of my cats in adorable poses, even when I know I've taken the same pictures before, even with other cats. Because I want to keep them forever.
Are there things in your life you’re afraid will change or end, that you’d like to fix in place, build a shrine to? Children, friends, homes, work? It’s great to love something or someone wonderful. But when we try to cling to that, we sometimes close off other gifts God has to give us, gifts that might build on the ones we have, blessings that might even include what we’re trying to keep, but allow that to grow into fullness. When we don’t try to save the precious things, but use and enjoy them, willing to have them end or run out, we often experience more abundance in our lives. When we enjoy the precious people, willing to see them grow up and even away, we experience a deeper, freer kind of love.
Today in prayer bring those people and things to mind, and offer them to God to bless. Offer them with open hands, and a heart willing to grow God-ward. God rarely takes away what we love – God just might show us something deeper and richer about that beloved than we can see from our current “holding” perspective.
It’s kind of funny, a fisherman offering to build a carpenter a hut. Maybe not as funny as that carpenter setting the bait and reeling those fisherman in to become the greatest catch of all, a catch that even includes us.
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