Water Daily

4-11-20 - Holy Saturday: Joseph of Arimathea

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4-10-20 - Good Friday - Mary of Nazareth

Each day this week we will use the gospel appointed for the day, and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage your own imagination as you walk this story with Jesus. You can listen to this reflection here.

Mary of Nazareth: They keep offering to take me away, my sister, the two Marys. They keep trying to take me home, to get me away from here, from watching him… But I don’t want to go. I must feel some need to finish this. He said a moment ago… “It is finished.” Or, that’s what they said he said. I couldn’t hear him. His voice was so faint…

But still I can’t leave. Not yet. It wasn’t like there was ever a time I was allowed to forget that there would be an end like this. I just didn’t ever know how or when it was going to be. I always knew that he was a gift with strings attached – From the beginning, what that angel, or whatever he was, said to me, “He will be great, and will be called the son of the Most High… his kingdom will never end.” And the whole way he… just suddenly… was there, in my belly… And his birth, those crazed shepherds running, finding us, telling us about choirs of angels on the hills…

I always knew he was no ordinary child; I always knew he was never mine to keep. But this – this was not a day I ever imagined, to see my own first son, flesh of my flesh, there…naked, pinned…. In agony. And yet I don’t want to leave.

A little while before he spoke again. Oh God, he barely had the strength to lift his voice. He was looking at me, he wanted me. And there was nothing I could do for him! They took me by the arm, Joanna and Mary, they led me closer. I could have touched him – I could have reached out and touched his feet, those feet that were once so small they fit into my hand, those toes I used to tickle, and he would laugh and laugh like an angel… But there they were, and a spike…

I could have touched him, but I was afraid. What was I afraid of? The soldiers? What on earth could they do to me now? But still, I didn’t try. He looked at John, his faithful friend. He looked at me. “Dear woman, behold your son,” he said. “No, you are my son!” I wanted to cry out. “Take him down!”

Then he said to John, “Here is your mother.” I thought my heart would stop – it hurt so much. To be given away, even for my own care… like the time he wouldn’t see us, his brothers and me. He said those who followed him, his disciples, those were his mothers and his brothers now. And I tried to understand… he was never mine to keep. But what was it all for? the crowds, the miracles, the healings? All those amazing stories that he told, about forgiveness and the Kingdom of Heaven? Where is all that now?

That’s what I want to know. Maybe that’s why I can’t look away – I’ve been waiting to see what he does now! God, where are you now? Your moment to intervene just passed, it seems. Are you going to finish what you started?

This is the question of Good Friday – are you there, God? Where is your power, your presence, your peace? Are your promises any good? And as much as we want the resolution, to see the story turn out the way we know it will – this is an important space in which to rest, these three days before the promise is revealed. Sit with your questions, and doubts, and faith, and love. Share them with Jesus. He knows…

Join Christ Church for Stations of the Cross at 10 am - link here; pw: LPWay
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4-9-20 - Maundy Thursday: Simon Peter of Capernaum

Each day this week we will use the gospel appointed for the day, and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage your own imagination as you walk this story with Jesus. You can listen to this reflection here.

Simon Peter of Capernaum: I know what you’re thinking – a tough guy like me? Crying like a baby? But I couldn’t help it. After what I did… after what I didn’t do? He told me, you know? He said one of us was going to betray him and we were all going to deny we knew him, and I said, “Oh, no, Lord, I’ll never deny you! Even if I have to die with you!”

But he told me, he already knew, that before the cock crowed twice this morning, I would. He was right. I was worthless to him! I couldn’t even stand it for an hour. I couldn’t even stay awake with him last night, I couldn’t defend him…

But he didn’t want us to fight. He said it had to happen this way. This, from a guy who has power like you’ve never seen. But this man, last night, got down on his knees and washed our feet. Like a servant. Like a slave. He knelt down in front of me with this basin and started to wash my feet. I pulled them back! The idea of him, touching my feet! My feet… my feet are filthy. They smell like cheese you left lying around your kitchen for too many weeks. They’re caked in mud and dirt and God knows what. They’ve got sores…

But he said, “If I do not wash you, you have no part with me.” Okay, then, I said, don’t stop with my feet. Wash my hands and my head too! But he just said, no, I was clean. Then he washed my feet like they were babies, like they were precious. He washed my feet like he loved them, and me along with them.

Everything he’d ever said made sense right then, because he loved me so much. I don’t understand it. I’m not lovable. I’m loud, crude, ornery. I’m always charging in without thinking… but he loves me. There’s nothing I’ve done to make it so. I betrayed him tonight, as much as Judas. I ran like a coward. I lied about him, three times.

But just now, they brought him out and as he passed, he looked at me. He knew what I had done, but he looked at me with those eyes that see everything, and he still loved me. No matter what I do. It’s an amazing thing. And I’ll tell you something, that is love I’d die for.

How are you at receiving love and care from others?
It’s tricky, this giving and receiving thing – Jesus implies we have to be equally good at both.
Who do you let get close to you, close enough to see your flaws and blemishes? Thank God for them.
Who lets you show them love? How does it feel?

Would you withhold that feeling from someone who wants to show you love?

Tonight, if you’re participating in a service that includes footwashing, will you let someone wash your feet? If you’re participating from home, alone, wash your own, and in prayer let your hands be Jesus’ hands, washing your feet in love. Even apart, we can “have a part” with him. (You are welcome to join Christ Church for our Maundy Thursday worship online - link here; pw: LPWay

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4-8-20 - Wednesday in Holy Week: Judas Iscariot

Each day this week we will use the gospel appointed for the day (today John 13:21-32; check also passages from Matthew 26 and Matthew 27) and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage your own imagination as you walk this story with Jesus. You can listen to this reflection here.

Judas Iscariot: I know, I’m the bad guy in all this. “How could you?” they all ask. And he asked, “With a kiss? Did you have to betray me with a symbol of love and friendship?” But what did he want? He as good as made me do it. He said, at dinner, “What you have to do, do it quickly.” He knew. I’m just a pawn in all this. But no one’s going to understand that, are they? I’m the bad guy. The one.

You’re wondering how I could betray him, why I would betray someone who showed me so much love and acceptance. But, you see, it wasn’t about him. It couldn’t be about him in the end – it had to be about the work, right? The revolution. Feeding the poor, empowering the weak, kicking out the Romans.

“The Kingdom of God is coming,” he said. Bring it on! We had that parade into Jerusalem and the crowd was all worked up, shouting hosanna. That must have given the Romans something to think about. And then he kicked butt up at the temple, giving it to those accomodationist Jewish leaders, collaborators … it was great.

But then he slowed down again – he’d tell these weird stories that hardly made sense. We were wasting so much time. And there was the thing at that dinner in Bethany, where this woman, Mary, emptied like a whole bottle of really expensive perfumed oil on his head. We could have fed a whole village for a month with what that cost! But he defended her. “She’s preparing me for death,” he said, like that was supposed to make sense. All this death stuff all the time, and he wasn’t even fighting it.

All of a sudden he thought he was more important than the poor? He was completely out of touch. What was I supposed to do, sit back and watch the whole thing unravel? We need a revolution. We need justice. I couldn’t just turn my back on…

But I don’t expect you to understand. And you should know – I gave the money back!

So, who is Judas? Traitor? Zealot? Freedom fighter? God’s patsy? Can you relate to him on any level?
Today, let’s pray for the Judases in our lives, and in ourselves. If we have free will, so do they… and wholeness must be possible for them too.

For a beautiful take on Judas that emphasizes the enormity of God’s grace, listen to U2’s “Until the End of the World,” which imagines a conversation between Jesus and Judas. Concert version; Official video (clearer lyrics, dumber visuals…)

Join Christ Church for worship tonight on this Gospel - link here; pw: LPWay
To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Today’s readings are here.

4-7-20 - Tuesday in Holy Week - Philip of Bethsaida

Each day this week we will use the gospel appointed for the day (today John 12:20-26) and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage your own imagination as you walk this story with Jesus. You can listen to this reflection here.

Philip of Bethsaida: People always wanted to see Jesus; what was so different about these Greeks, that their appearing should cause him such sadness?

I wasn’t even sure I should bother him when they approached me. I mean, a LOT of people wanted to see Jesus – not all of them friendly – and he seemed tense and tired. So I checked in with Andrew, who's closer to the inner circle than I. We went together to Jesus. His response surprised me. “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified,” he said. I wasn’t sure what that meant but he looked somehow resigned, and added, “I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”

I couldn't pretend not to know what he was talking about – the rumors of plots against him have been flying for weeks now. It got a lot worse after the Lazarus thing. The leadership is not happy with Jesus’ popularity, or his miracles. And now even Greeks in Jerusalem for Passover want to see him? This is not going to be good.

Or is it “good” in a much bigger picture? Jesus keeps hinting at a mission broader than we can imagine, that God is up to something huge. Could something good be accomplished by the death of one so amazing as Jesus? Whom I, we, believe to be the Anointed One, the Messiah himself? What kind of fruit might he bear if he dies, like a grain of wheat?

Is he talking about us too? Are we all called to be grains of wheat, broken open so the life of God can break out?

“Whoever serves me must follow me,” he said. “And where I am, there will my servant be also.” Well, I am his servant. I can think of no greater purpose for my life than to serve Jesus. I will stay as close to him this week as I can, and hope against hope he’s just speaking in metaphors…

How about us? Are we willing to stay close to Jesus this week? What do you find most unsettling about the whole story of Holy Week? Is there a part you routinely want to avoid? Why do you suppose that is?

I pray that we might walk closely with Jesus this week, allowing him to be real in our lives - not the suffering crucified one, but the risen Lord of heaven and earth, bearing abundant fruit through us.

Join Christ Church for worship tonight on this Gospel - link here; pw: LPWay

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4-6-20 - Monday in Holy Week: Mary of Bethany

Each day this week we will use the gospel appointed for the day, today John 12:1-11, and hear from one of the main characters in the story, as I imagine they might speak. I hope this will help engage your own imagination as you walk this story with Jesus. You can listen to this reflection here.

Mary of Bethany:

I know it was an intimate thing to do, even scandalous. You should have seen my sister Martha’s face when I poured a whole pound of pure nard on Jesus’ feet! But Jesus was like my brother. I mean, he was my Lord, but I also loved him like I loved my own brother. It seemed the most natural and full way to honor him before he… before he, you know…

How did I know he was going to die soon? It wasn’t because he said so. I just felt it. After Lazarus’ death, when Jesus… raised him… I just stood at that tomb and was filled with a knowing: “Before too long we will have to bury the Teacher.” It was like I saw into his spirit and I knew he would be taken from us. He said it often enough; we just didn’t want to believe him.

This might be the last time he was in our home. I had bought the nard thinking we would need it to anoint him after his death; I didn’t want them using anything cheap on him. I took all the money I’d gotten from the clothes I made and sold. I wanted the best for him. But that night I looked at him in the flickering light, as we all sat at the table after the meal, talking and talking, as we always did… and I thought, “No, this shouldn’t be for him after his death. Why waste it then? He should be honored like this in life.” And that was it; I just got up and took the jar and broke it and poured it all over his feet, the whole thing, everything for him.

“Oh the waste!” they cried, Judas leading the charge. “This could have been sold for 300 denarii and given to the poor!” Well, of course it could have. But that wasn’t the point. The point was to honor Jesus, to give him comfort and love and protection because we would not be able to protect him from what was ahead...

It was shocking to hear him say it so bluntly, that we wouldn’t always have him with us. I still don’t think they really heard him, or understood. But he let me know I had done the right thing, as wrong as it seemed to everyone else there. This was one way I could show love to him.

He was going to lay down his life for us. I didn’t know what would happen after that. He had talked about being raised on the third day. He had said something to Martha about being the resurrection and the life, and “Do you believe this?” But how could we know what would be?

Now I do know, and I ask you: was my action any more “wasteful” than the Son of God pouring out his life for the likes of me? For those who wouldn’t even recognize the gift?

Mary’s act of devotion and worship is unbelievably extravagant, seemingly wasteful. She held nothing back. Do you ever feel that toward Jesus… maybe toward someone else in your life?
The time you are spending now is precious to God… and as we give this, we can begin to look at what we’re holding back and release that too.

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4-3-20 - Who Is This?

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

Sometimes I come across a news item about some reality or sports star I’ve never heard of, who has gained new notoriety or picked up another million or so Instagram followers – and I go, “Who the heck is that?” Evidently that’s how some people on the edges of that crowd hailing Jesus with palm branches and “Hosanna!”s felt:

When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Some in the crowd recognized him as the Christ, the Messiah. Many assumed that the Messiah would be a military leader, liberating them from the hated Romans as their forebears had been liberated from Egyptian domination. A greater majority probably saw Jesus as a prophet, for only a messenger of God could do the kind of miracles Jesus was doing, and speak with the authority with which he spoke. It was a big deal to be regarded as a prophet – but to be seen as Messiah? That was less likely.

The proportions in that crowd may be similar to how Jesus is seen in the world today. To many he is a prophet. Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Sikhs, and other traditions, as well as some atheists and agnostics, see him as an important world religious figure whose influence cannot be overstated. Probably many who bear the title “Christian” also view him this way, as an important moral teacher and prophet, but not divine. Baha'i see Christ as divine, though somewhat differently than Christians. To creedal Christians, though, and to some in that crowd that day, Jesus had been revealed as more than prophet. They recognized him as Lord, Adonai, the long-awaited Deliverer.

Many in our own day will say, when they hear of Jesus, “Who is this?” It is our privilege to make the introductions, to point to stories of Jesus in the Gospels, to say who we have experienced him to be. We can also be sure people hear of Jesus. We don’t have to spout a "party line" or to tell other people’s stories – we can speak out of our own experience, and out of our own tradition.

This time in our church year, when we mark Holy Week and Easter, is a particularly good time to tell our stories and make our introductions – and invite people to come and experience the story for themselves on Palm Sunday, to feel the dislocation of Maundy Thursday, the horror and sorrow of Good Friday; to hear the scope of God’s love for humanity at the Great Vigil of Easter, to soak up the celebration and joy of Easter Day. This year, when these important worship events will take place not in our sanctuaries, but in homes and online, might be a particularly good time to invite folks to tune in – they don’t even have to get dressed up to go out.

And if our experience of Jesus is limited to what we’ve heard or read; if we’re still asking the “Who is this?” question ourselves, then we can ask him to make himself real to us in a new way this year, so that we can receive, and share, the gift more fully.

Wherever we find ourselves in this story, I hope we will share the ministry of that donkey – to bear Christ into the crowds, humble and patient, lifting him up for all to see, getting him to the places he needs to be in order to transform the world.

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