You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Nobody likes to be left, not even Jesus’ disciples. In our lectionary time travels through Eastertide, we’re back to the night Jesus was arrested, in that upper room where they have just had supper. He has washed their feet, said strange things about bread and wine, and predicted that one of them would betray him. Judas has just left to do that. Now Jesus gives a lengthy farewell speech. He has a lot to say to his followers before they go out into the Garden of Gethsemane.
He says something rather confusing about glorifying and being glorified, but the next part is painfully clear: "Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, 'Where I am going, you cannot come.'”
It makes me think of a child wailing, “Wanna come with! Wanna come with!” as his parents gently but firmly explain why he cannot join them for an evening out. “Where I am going, you cannot come.” But a parent usually adds, “I’ll be home later,” while here Jesus tells his disciples the worst: “I am with you only a little longer.” And soon he will be gone, gone, gone… and then mysteriously back, but not in the same way. Never again in the same way.
The movement of God is always forward, not back. The mystery of God is Three distinct persons who are yet One in unity. And one of the mysteries we live with as followers of the risen and ascended Christ is being separate from him while mystically united with him. We claim his life lives in us through the Spirit, yet when we pray, it is to an Other distinct from us.
The disciples had to get used to Jesus’ absence. We have a different challenge: to become used to his presence, real though not embodied. For when Jesus made his final departure in bodily form, he promised that his Father would send his Spirit to be with his followers, that he would be with them through his Spirit.
Children learning to deal with separation from parents are often given a “transitional object,” a blanket or toy or stuffed animal that carries some of the presence of the parent and eases the separating process. Well, Christ-followers are given what we might call the ultimate in transitional objects, the Spirit of the Holy God to fill us, surround us, comfort us, empower us – and remind us that God will never leave us or forsake us.
Separation anxiety is real, and varies in intensity for each of us relative to our experiences in early childhood. But in the spiritual life, the Life we live in God’s realm, Jesus is always here, always present. Not only is he never leaving again; he wants us to come out and play with him.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
5-9-25 - The Not-So-Gentle Shepherd
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Reading the Gospels, we can see Jesus in different lights – and come away with a picture very different from the one our culture presents. Popular art and hymnody often portray him as gentle and mild, serene, a peacemaker and solemn teacher. Maybe it’s all those pictures of him carrying a cuddly little lamb in his arms, and our desire for a world in which the meek inherit the earth. He did say they would, and he meant it in the long-term, but “meek” was not the way Jesus went about doing business.
In fact, the image of Jesus as a gentle shepherd shows ignorance about what went into shepherding in his day. It was a dirty, dangerous, fierce and sometimes nasty business. Shepherds were hired to tend valuable livestock; if they lost a sheep to a predator or a poacher or a ravine, they were responsible for the cost. It was not a field that attracted the finest of men. I wonder if Jesus' taking on the label “shepherd” itself raised some eyebrows.
The Jesus we find in the Gospels is strong; fierce on behalf of the broken and marginalized; merciless with the self-righteous; challenging to the wealthy and powerful; harsh with his followers; often sarcastic and occasionally rude. He is frequently seen arguing with the religious leaders, whom he mocked to their faces and in his parables. He spoke with authority and did not hold back, even when threatened with death. He was “in your face” to the max – especially when it came to his claims about his relationship with God, as he does again in this week's Gospel reading: “What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand. The Father and I are one.”
More clearly than we see in other passages, Jesus defines his “flock” and his mission as a gift from his Father, and with all humility elevates himself above all others. I say “with all humility” because humility means having an accurate, “right-sized” view of yourself, and Jesus was, after all, God. But he didn’t look like God to the religious leaders around him, so they often took great offense at such claims. After hearing him say, “The Father and I are one,” we’re told, “The Jews took up stones again to stone him.”
How we see Jesus matters, because it shapes how we reveal him to the world. Our churches often reflect the cultural view of Jesus – solemn and contented, comforting and complacent, slow to challenge the structures of society or provoke our members to action. No wonder we’re in decline. Too often the Jesus we project is someone to have tea with, not one to join in reclaiming, restoring and renewing all of creation.
Let’s become reacquainted with the Jesus of the Gospels, even if it means reading them back-to-back several times over. Let’s look at our congregations and see how well we reflect the Jesus that multitudes found so compelling they left everything to follow him, whom thousands testified rose from the dead, bearing that conviction to a martyr’s grave.
And let’s look at ourselves, how we walk with Jesus among the people we know, how well we reflect the Jesus of the Gospels. That’s a guy people want to know better. Let’s make him known.
© 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.
Reading the Gospels, we can see Jesus in different lights – and come away with a picture very different from the one our culture presents. Popular art and hymnody often portray him as gentle and mild, serene, a peacemaker and solemn teacher. Maybe it’s all those pictures of him carrying a cuddly little lamb in his arms, and our desire for a world in which the meek inherit the earth. He did say they would, and he meant it in the long-term, but “meek” was not the way Jesus went about doing business.
In fact, the image of Jesus as a gentle shepherd shows ignorance about what went into shepherding in his day. It was a dirty, dangerous, fierce and sometimes nasty business. Shepherds were hired to tend valuable livestock; if they lost a sheep to a predator or a poacher or a ravine, they were responsible for the cost. It was not a field that attracted the finest of men. I wonder if Jesus' taking on the label “shepherd” itself raised some eyebrows.
The Jesus we find in the Gospels is strong; fierce on behalf of the broken and marginalized; merciless with the self-righteous; challenging to the wealthy and powerful; harsh with his followers; often sarcastic and occasionally rude. He is frequently seen arguing with the religious leaders, whom he mocked to their faces and in his parables. He spoke with authority and did not hold back, even when threatened with death. He was “in your face” to the max – especially when it came to his claims about his relationship with God, as he does again in this week's Gospel reading: “What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand. The Father and I are one.”
More clearly than we see in other passages, Jesus defines his “flock” and his mission as a gift from his Father, and with all humility elevates himself above all others. I say “with all humility” because humility means having an accurate, “right-sized” view of yourself, and Jesus was, after all, God. But he didn’t look like God to the religious leaders around him, so they often took great offense at such claims. After hearing him say, “The Father and I are one,” we’re told, “The Jews took up stones again to stone him.”
How we see Jesus matters, because it shapes how we reveal him to the world. Our churches often reflect the cultural view of Jesus – solemn and contented, comforting and complacent, slow to challenge the structures of society or provoke our members to action. No wonder we’re in decline. Too often the Jesus we project is someone to have tea with, not one to join in reclaiming, restoring and renewing all of creation.
Let’s become reacquainted with the Jesus of the Gospels, even if it means reading them back-to-back several times over. Let’s look at our congregations and see how well we reflect the Jesus that multitudes found so compelling they left everything to follow him, whom thousands testified rose from the dead, bearing that conviction to a martyr’s grave.
And let’s look at ourselves, how we walk with Jesus among the people we know, how well we reflect the Jesus of the Gospels. That’s a guy people want to know better. Let’s make him known.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
5-8-25 - Held Fast
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Do you ever want to feel you belong to someone, someone who desires the best for you and will hold your heart, and not let anyone take you away? That is the basis of many a good marriage – and maybe some stalker scenarios. We want to be held tight and to have our freedom, often at the same time.
This is one of the promises Jesus gives those who follow him as Lord. We have the freedom to walk away, but he will not let anyone take us from him: "My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand."
I reflect on this promise when I think of people who seem to have been snatched away from Jesus by greed or mental illness or addiction or trauma, people who claim to have no use for the gift of life he promises. I have to believe that if they have once considered themselves as belonging to Jesus, even if it was only as children, they are still his, no matter what happens later.
And I wonder, if I were more conscious about being tethered to Jesus, would I feel more grace in daily life? Would I go easier on myself? Would I be easier on other people? What does it mean to feel held fast and fully alive, all at once?
As I write that question, an image fills my head, the famous one from the movie itanic, Kate Winslet at the bow of the ship, her arms outstretched, face into the wind, exhilarated by freedom, as Leonardo DiCaprio holds her safe. Schmaltzy, yes, but perhaps not a bad way to understand the gift of being held so we can be adventurous and free.
I know God wants us to know his love. And I know God wants us to be free. And I know God wants us to be fully alive – in this world, and in the life that comes next, which flows in unbroken continuity from this one.
We already live the eternal life Jesus has won for us; we get to explore it here and now, becoming ready for Life Without Any Ends. And we can be free to ride the winds of the Spirit knowing Jesus holds us fast. And no one can snatch us out of his hand.
© 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.
Do you ever want to feel you belong to someone, someone who desires the best for you and will hold your heart, and not let anyone take you away? That is the basis of many a good marriage – and maybe some stalker scenarios. We want to be held tight and to have our freedom, often at the same time.
This is one of the promises Jesus gives those who follow him as Lord. We have the freedom to walk away, but he will not let anyone take us from him: "My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand."
I reflect on this promise when I think of people who seem to have been snatched away from Jesus by greed or mental illness or addiction or trauma, people who claim to have no use for the gift of life he promises. I have to believe that if they have once considered themselves as belonging to Jesus, even if it was only as children, they are still his, no matter what happens later.
And I wonder, if I were more conscious about being tethered to Jesus, would I feel more grace in daily life? Would I go easier on myself? Would I be easier on other people? What does it mean to feel held fast and fully alive, all at once?
As I write that question, an image fills my head, the famous one from the movie itanic, Kate Winslet at the bow of the ship, her arms outstretched, face into the wind, exhilarated by freedom, as Leonardo DiCaprio holds her safe. Schmaltzy, yes, but perhaps not a bad way to understand the gift of being held so we can be adventurous and free.
I know God wants us to know his love. And I know God wants us to be free. And I know God wants us to be fully alive – in this world, and in the life that comes next, which flows in unbroken continuity from this one.
We already live the eternal life Jesus has won for us; we get to explore it here and now, becoming ready for Life Without Any Ends. And we can be free to ride the winds of the Spirit knowing Jesus holds us fast. And no one can snatch us out of his hand.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
5-7-25 - Hearing Jesus
You can listen to this reflection here.
In our gospel reading this week, we see the religious leaders of Jesus’ time demand that he state whether or not he is the Messiah. None of this hinting around. “Are you or aren’t you?” they ask. In reply, he throws an “Are you or aren’t you?” back at them: Are they his sheep, or not? He doesn’t even ask, because he knows they are not: The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.
Jesus presents an argument that is hard to refute – and hard to accept. He says, “If you believe in me, you’re one of my sheep. If you don’t, you’re not – so you won’t recognize my voice and become one of my sheep.” He defines his critics “out” as firmly as he defines his followers “in.” That cannot have felt very good to these leaders, already suspicious of him yet desperately hoping he might in fact be the long-awaited Messiah.
How about us, reading this so many thousands of years later? Do you feel like one of Jesus’ sheep? He describes his relationship with his sheep as an intimate one, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.” Do you feel known by Jesus? Do you let him know you? Do you feel you are following him?
It can be hard to follow him if we don’t hear his voice, and it can be hard to hear his voice in the din in which we live our lives – actual noise, constant input and stimulus from social media and email and texts, not to mention the incessant chatter inside our own heads… How can we hear Jesus’ voice? Well, here are some ways:
We can follow him without hearing him – that’s called faith. Mother Theresa reportedly went for years without a felt sense of connection to God, moving forward on the strength of the revelation she'd experienced earlier. Yet I believe Jesus wants us to hear his voice. Let’s explore and see if one or more of these avenues opens the ears of our hearts to hear Love calling us in.
© 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.
In our gospel reading this week, we see the religious leaders of Jesus’ time demand that he state whether or not he is the Messiah. None of this hinting around. “Are you or aren’t you?” they ask. In reply, he throws an “Are you or aren’t you?” back at them: Are they his sheep, or not? He doesn’t even ask, because he knows they are not: The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.
Jesus presents an argument that is hard to refute – and hard to accept. He says, “If you believe in me, you’re one of my sheep. If you don’t, you’re not – so you won’t recognize my voice and become one of my sheep.” He defines his critics “out” as firmly as he defines his followers “in.” That cannot have felt very good to these leaders, already suspicious of him yet desperately hoping he might in fact be the long-awaited Messiah.
How about us, reading this so many thousands of years later? Do you feel like one of Jesus’ sheep? He describes his relationship with his sheep as an intimate one, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.” Do you feel known by Jesus? Do you let him know you? Do you feel you are following him?
It can be hard to follow him if we don’t hear his voice, and it can be hard to hear his voice in the din in which we live our lives – actual noise, constant input and stimulus from social media and email and texts, not to mention the incessant chatter inside our own heads… How can we hear Jesus’ voice? Well, here are some ways:
- In prayer, inviting him to speak to us as we wait in silence;
- In the Gospels, reading them with an eye to get to know the Jesus we find in them – chewing on his words as we encounter them;
- In the sacraments, inviting him to speak through objects and actions both sacred and ordinary;
- In hymns and spiritual songs, attending to phrases that stick or come to the surface;
- In other people, especially people in need, in whom he said he could be found;
- in our responses to suffering and joy;
- In our own thoughts, as we invite the Holy Spirit to speak in us.
We can follow him without hearing him – that’s called faith. Mother Theresa reportedly went for years without a felt sense of connection to God, moving forward on the strength of the revelation she'd experienced earlier. Yet I believe Jesus wants us to hear his voice. Let’s explore and see if one or more of these avenues opens the ears of our hearts to hear Love calling us in.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
5-6-25 - Are You Or Aren't You?
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Some people just want a straight answer. They don’t want to be told a story, or given a demonstration, or be delivered an elliptical discourse that circles around, making its points indirectly. Such people had trouble with Jesus.
Such people still have trouble with Jesus, especially as he is presented in the Gospel of John, much of which shows the Jewish religious leaders (“the Jews” in John’s shorthand) grappling with often contradictory “evidence” about Jesus: he teaches with authority, yet seems to flout the Law at will. He has undeniable spiritual power and holiness, yet he consorts with people who are “impure.” Worst, he makes radical claims about himself and his relationship to God, whom he refers to as his “heavenly Father.” Who is this guy?
So the Jewish leaders gathered around him and said to him, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.” Jesus answered, “I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep.”
No one will win this argument, Jesus asserts, because the religious leaders will never accept his word; their suspicion blocks their ability to believe. And only believing Jesus’ word can dismantle their suspicions. As far as Jesus is concerned, his works of power (miracles) are incontrovertible testimony supporting his claims. If the leaders won’t accept that testimony, they will never believe. And they can’t accept that testimony because Jesus doesn’t look like or sound like the kind of Messiah they believe in. “The guy comes from Galilee, for Christ’s sake!” they reason (rough paraphrase…).
Not much has changed in the millennia since these encounters. It’s hard to accept Jesus as Risen Lord and Savior without faith, and it can be hard to receive the gift of faith without the Spirit of Christ. Hard, but not impossible for those who want to believe. It is more difficult for those who refuse to believe, or who are so sure that God could never look or sound like a poor, itinerant preacher and miracle-worker from a backwater county who died on a cross. Or those who would only follow a Lord who delivers on their prayer requests with more speed and accuracy than God has promised. Everyone has reasons for holding back their hearts from full faith and trust in Jesus.
There may be times in all of our lives when we want to say, “Are you for real, Jesus, or aren’t you? Because I’m tired of trusting and believing and not feeling the love, not seeing the fruits.” The Good News is that Jesus invites those questions and the longing behind them. Jesus entertains our expressions of doubt as he entertained Thomas’, just as he delights in our affirmations of faith. First and foremost, Jesus invites us into a relationship of knowledge and intimacy and trust – the trust of a sheep for their shepherd.
Where does the balance between faith and suspicion lie for you today? What do you want to know about Jesus? Ask him!
© 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.
Some people just want a straight answer. They don’t want to be told a story, or given a demonstration, or be delivered an elliptical discourse that circles around, making its points indirectly. Such people had trouble with Jesus.
Such people still have trouble with Jesus, especially as he is presented in the Gospel of John, much of which shows the Jewish religious leaders (“the Jews” in John’s shorthand) grappling with often contradictory “evidence” about Jesus: he teaches with authority, yet seems to flout the Law at will. He has undeniable spiritual power and holiness, yet he consorts with people who are “impure.” Worst, he makes radical claims about himself and his relationship to God, whom he refers to as his “heavenly Father.” Who is this guy?
So the Jewish leaders gathered around him and said to him, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.” Jesus answered, “I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep.”
No one will win this argument, Jesus asserts, because the religious leaders will never accept his word; their suspicion blocks their ability to believe. And only believing Jesus’ word can dismantle their suspicions. As far as Jesus is concerned, his works of power (miracles) are incontrovertible testimony supporting his claims. If the leaders won’t accept that testimony, they will never believe. And they can’t accept that testimony because Jesus doesn’t look like or sound like the kind of Messiah they believe in. “The guy comes from Galilee, for Christ’s sake!” they reason (rough paraphrase…).
Not much has changed in the millennia since these encounters. It’s hard to accept Jesus as Risen Lord and Savior without faith, and it can be hard to receive the gift of faith without the Spirit of Christ. Hard, but not impossible for those who want to believe. It is more difficult for those who refuse to believe, or who are so sure that God could never look or sound like a poor, itinerant preacher and miracle-worker from a backwater county who died on a cross. Or those who would only follow a Lord who delivers on their prayer requests with more speed and accuracy than God has promised. Everyone has reasons for holding back their hearts from full faith and trust in Jesus.
There may be times in all of our lives when we want to say, “Are you for real, Jesus, or aren’t you? Because I’m tired of trusting and believing and not feeling the love, not seeing the fruits.” The Good News is that Jesus invites those questions and the longing behind them. Jesus entertains our expressions of doubt as he entertained Thomas’, just as he delights in our affirmations of faith. First and foremost, Jesus invites us into a relationship of knowledge and intimacy and trust – the trust of a sheep for their shepherd.
Where does the balance between faith and suspicion lie for you today? What do you want to know about Jesus? Ask him!
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
5-5-25 - A Winter's Tale
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Alas, we have to leave the morning beach and its breakfast cookout and head to Jerusalem in the dead of winter. Why? Because the Lectionary says so. The fourth Sunday in Easter always has as the appointed Gospel reading one of Jesus’ Good Shepherd discourses. One might think these comforting stories, but they have a rather dark and dangerous cast, showing Jesus at his most contentious. (If you want a more cuddly good shepherd story, read Jesus’ parable about the shepherd who leaves the 99 sheep to go find the one who’s lost. That’s very comforting – unless, perhaps, you happen to be among the 99 left behind…)
Why can’t we just stay with resurrection appearances for the whole seven weeks of Eastertide, or at least the 50 days that mark Jesus’ resurrection sojourn in this world? More time to wrap our minds around resurrection life might help us be more God-centered in this life. Or maybe not – just as we proclaim life in the midst of death, it remains true that, this side of glory, we must contend with death the midst of life. So back we go, back to before Jesus’ arrest and passion, death and glorious resurrection, to Jerusalem in winter: At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon.
What is the Feast of Dedication, you ask? I had to look it up – it is the eight-day remembrance of the Maccabean revolt that regained the temple from the defiling Seleucid rulers. Part of that festival recalls the miracle of the small quantity of unprofaned oil found in the temple that somehow lit the lamps for eight days until they could bless more. This is the festival we now know as Hanukkah. So that’s the “when” in this week’s story – a festival of light, a festival recalling the victory of God’s people over evil. Hmmm....
The “where” has significance as well – we are in Solomon’s Portico, “a many-pillared, three-aisled portico that ran the length of the eastern boundary of the court of Gentiles.” Perhaps I am making too much of this proximity to the area of the Temple where Gentiles were permitted – but we will see in this encounter Jesus setting a clear distinction between his followers, those who “know my voice,” and those who do not. In the end, this definition will lead to the Good News being proclaimed not only to Jews but to Gentiles as well. This is the sacred geography in which Jesus proclaims his message of eternal life for all who believe in him.
This message has life for us as well, even if we have to leave our stories of happy discovery of the Risen Christ for a time. We now see all stories – those we find in the Bible, and those we experience in our own lives – from the vantage point of Jesus’ resurrection.
Where are you being challenged to find new life in what seems like a sad story? Because Jesus rose, we can find new life in any story, especially our own. As we watch spring unfurl from winter’s firm grip, maybe this winter’s tale will renew our faith in new life.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Alas, we have to leave the morning beach and its breakfast cookout and head to Jerusalem in the dead of winter. Why? Because the Lectionary says so. The fourth Sunday in Easter always has as the appointed Gospel reading one of Jesus’ Good Shepherd discourses. One might think these comforting stories, but they have a rather dark and dangerous cast, showing Jesus at his most contentious. (If you want a more cuddly good shepherd story, read Jesus’ parable about the shepherd who leaves the 99 sheep to go find the one who’s lost. That’s very comforting – unless, perhaps, you happen to be among the 99 left behind…)
Why can’t we just stay with resurrection appearances for the whole seven weeks of Eastertide, or at least the 50 days that mark Jesus’ resurrection sojourn in this world? More time to wrap our minds around resurrection life might help us be more God-centered in this life. Or maybe not – just as we proclaim life in the midst of death, it remains true that, this side of glory, we must contend with death the midst of life. So back we go, back to before Jesus’ arrest and passion, death and glorious resurrection, to Jerusalem in winter: At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon.
What is the Feast of Dedication, you ask? I had to look it up – it is the eight-day remembrance of the Maccabean revolt that regained the temple from the defiling Seleucid rulers. Part of that festival recalls the miracle of the small quantity of unprofaned oil found in the temple that somehow lit the lamps for eight days until they could bless more. This is the festival we now know as Hanukkah. So that’s the “when” in this week’s story – a festival of light, a festival recalling the victory of God’s people over evil. Hmmm....
The “where” has significance as well – we are in Solomon’s Portico, “a many-pillared, three-aisled portico that ran the length of the eastern boundary of the court of Gentiles.” Perhaps I am making too much of this proximity to the area of the Temple where Gentiles were permitted – but we will see in this encounter Jesus setting a clear distinction between his followers, those who “know my voice,” and those who do not. In the end, this definition will lead to the Good News being proclaimed not only to Jews but to Gentiles as well. This is the sacred geography in which Jesus proclaims his message of eternal life for all who believe in him.
This message has life for us as well, even if we have to leave our stories of happy discovery of the Risen Christ for a time. We now see all stories – those we find in the Bible, and those we experience in our own lives – from the vantage point of Jesus’ resurrection.
Where are you being challenged to find new life in what seems like a sad story? Because Jesus rose, we can find new life in any story, especially our own. As we watch spring unfurl from winter’s firm grip, maybe this winter’s tale will renew our faith in new life.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
5-2-25 - Feed My Lambs
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Sunday mornings would be a lot messier in our churches had Jesus added the words, “Do this in remembrance of me” after serving his disciples breakfast on the beach. “Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish.” That action no doubt had some resonance for the disciples, reminding them not only of their last supper with Jesus a few weeks’ prior, but also that picnic on a hillside, when five loaves and two fish fed thousands.
But Jesus does get serious after the fish-fry: When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.”
Jesus asks this question of Peter three times, and each time Peter answers, with increasing frustration, “You know I love you.” Jesus addresses him not by the nickname he had given him, “Petros,” but by his given name, “Simon bar Jonah.” Perhaps Jesus doesn't want to resume the familiar appellation until they’ve dealt with the business of Peter’s denying him the night he was arrested. That would account for the triple interrogation, inviting Peter to affirm his love as many times as he had denied his Lord.
But Jesus has more on his mind than reconciliation. With each “Do you love me?” “Yes, you know I love you,” he adds a command: “Feed my lambs.” “Tend my sheep.” “Feed my sheep.” He predicts a martyr’s death for his beloved friend, and ends the conversation the way he began it by the Sea of Galilee three years earlier, “Follow me.” At that time, Peter and the others followed with excitement and anticipation borne of ignorance and hope. Now they know so much better what it means to follow Christ, to the cross and beyond. Yet their job description is simpler now: Feed my lambs.
There can be no following Jesus, no loving Jesus without some outward manifestation of that love. Sometimes that involves physically feeding those who hunger; the world has no shortage of people who need food. Yet I doubt Jesus was talking only about physical hunger. He was telling us to tend the spiritually hungry, the weak, confused, misguided, vulnerable – all of us, at some time or other. He is inviting us – commanding us – to join him in taking care of humanity, one human at a time.
Who are the lambs for whom you’ve been given oversight? Do you feel called to tend some whom you don’t know yet? And are you letting Jesus feed you? Through whom?
We are all sheep in Christ’s flock, and we are all shepherds who join him in caring for other sheep. The feasting with Jesus on the beach (or wherever our latest feast with Jesus takes place…) is of a piece with the feeding of others. Who are they and where do we find them? Well, Jesus made that easy too. “Follow me,” he said.
© 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.
Sunday mornings would be a lot messier in our churches had Jesus added the words, “Do this in remembrance of me” after serving his disciples breakfast on the beach. “Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish.” That action no doubt had some resonance for the disciples, reminding them not only of their last supper with Jesus a few weeks’ prior, but also that picnic on a hillside, when five loaves and two fish fed thousands.
But Jesus does get serious after the fish-fry: When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.”
Jesus asks this question of Peter three times, and each time Peter answers, with increasing frustration, “You know I love you.” Jesus addresses him not by the nickname he had given him, “Petros,” but by his given name, “Simon bar Jonah.” Perhaps Jesus doesn't want to resume the familiar appellation until they’ve dealt with the business of Peter’s denying him the night he was arrested. That would account for the triple interrogation, inviting Peter to affirm his love as many times as he had denied his Lord.
But Jesus has more on his mind than reconciliation. With each “Do you love me?” “Yes, you know I love you,” he adds a command: “Feed my lambs.” “Tend my sheep.” “Feed my sheep.” He predicts a martyr’s death for his beloved friend, and ends the conversation the way he began it by the Sea of Galilee three years earlier, “Follow me.” At that time, Peter and the others followed with excitement and anticipation borne of ignorance and hope. Now they know so much better what it means to follow Christ, to the cross and beyond. Yet their job description is simpler now: Feed my lambs.
There can be no following Jesus, no loving Jesus without some outward manifestation of that love. Sometimes that involves physically feeding those who hunger; the world has no shortage of people who need food. Yet I doubt Jesus was talking only about physical hunger. He was telling us to tend the spiritually hungry, the weak, confused, misguided, vulnerable – all of us, at some time or other. He is inviting us – commanding us – to join him in taking care of humanity, one human at a time.
Who are the lambs for whom you’ve been given oversight? Do you feel called to tend some whom you don’t know yet? And are you letting Jesus feed you? Through whom?
We are all sheep in Christ’s flock, and we are all shepherds who join him in caring for other sheep. The feasting with Jesus on the beach (or wherever our latest feast with Jesus takes place…) is of a piece with the feeding of others. Who are they and where do we find them? Well, Jesus made that easy too. “Follow me,” he said.
© 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.
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