When I was a teenager, my family and I were in Montreat for the 4th of July. It’s a day celebrated in big ways in true small-town fashion. There’s a parade, lawn games and activities including the infamous greased telephone pole, food to enjoy, and a barn dance in the evening. After the parade was finished, my parents, two younger brothers and I were debating what to do when the topic came up that my mother had never climbed Lookout Mountain, a popular hike. And so, clad in our matching Old Navy flag t-shirts, we decided to make a family event of it in the remaining morning hours before lunch. We headed up the hill from the Anderson Auditorium lawn and walked the half mile or so to get to the trailhead. It wasn’t very long on the trail where we realized the considerable flaw to our plan: no one had brought water. It was July 4th. The air was hot. Humid. Sticky. And while this hike is labeled as “moderate” hike and is about ¾ of a mile measured from the trailhead, if you are not used to hiking, and it’s the middle of July, it’s, well, difficult[i]. We made it to the top, but not without a lot of sweat and second guessing. Fortunately, the way back is all downhill, and we rewarded ourselves with cool treats at the end. Water never tasted so good. And we learned our lesson. My mother vowed to never again hike Lookout, a promise she has maintained, and I have always made sure to have water when hiking, especially when it’s a family trip. When you are going on a journey, whether it is a hike up the mountains or a trip through the wilderness, or even a road trip in your car, it’s vital to take water or other nourishment with you. Otherwise, you will end up, at minimum, thirsty or parched.
Our journeys of Lent, or just our journeys in life, can leave us feeling this way, can’t they? Demands on our time and energy are high. Do you ever find yourself saying “when things slow down,” and then wondering if that will ever be the case, or if it’s just something you say to yourself to keep your sanity with the hope that there might be a break ahead? It seems we are living at a breakneck pace in a world that only pushes us to go faster. And that’s on our good days. There are also plenty of things that make our journeys harder: a spot shows up on an exam that needs more testing, a friendship falls apart after a major disagreement, a family member breathes their last breath. The big and small things in live can leave us longing for respite and hope; thirsty, if you will. And in these times, we often lean on our faith to get us through. In fact, we come to worship, or pray, or flip through the thing pages of our Bibles hoping for something that might revive us.
The promise of the prophet Isaiah is that life-giving water is waiting for us in God. Written to a people in exile in the 6th century, Isaiah builds upon the messages of the previous chapters to encourage the people of Israel to return to Jerusalem from Babylon, into a time in which anything might be possible. This chapter is brimming with hope and salvation; the excitement of an adventure to be had. The prophet wants to remind Israel just where they can find nourishment. This passage is a holy invitation into God’s covenant living with a simple message: drink up!
In Grand Canyon National Park there are signs strategically placed along the trails that remind you to stop and drink water. “Stop! Drink water. You are thirsty, whether you realize it or not.” . . . Isaiah’s words are like the sign in a dry climate – “Stop! Drink water. You are thirsty, whether you realize it or not[ii].”
Many times, I think we take our relationship with God for granted. It’s something that is just sort of always there, hanging out in the background, until we have real need for it. It’s easy to put God on the backburner, or even take it off the stove altogether. And then, life takes its toll, and we find ourselves scrambling to find it. Sometimes, we need reminders to take care of ourselves before we get to a critical point. Isaiah calls us to do just that with our faith, seeking God while God is to be found, and assuring us that God is ready and waiting.
It should be an easy message, right? We know that drinking water is vital to our health. Some say 8 glasses of water each day; others the number of ounces equal to half of your body weight, which for most of us is more than 8 glasses. Either way, that’s a fair amount of recommended liquid consumption, and yet few of us get as much as we truly need. It is so easy for us to get caught up in the craziness of our lives that we don’t even realize we’re thirsty. Doctors and scientists would tell us that the hypothalamus is responsible for controlling our signals for both hunger and thirst. Sometimes, the symptoms are so similar that we mistake them. Early signs of dehydration, like inability to focus, being tired, or a little lightheaded, can make us reach for a snack rather than a drink, thinking it is what we need.
Our lives are much the same, and we often reach for the wrong things. We are caught in an endless pursuit of . . . . what? Do we even know any more? Is it money? Physical strength or fitness? Beauty? Social status? Business rank? Reaching a certain number of “lifegoals”? Being the perfect student, or parent, or grandparent? The bars are set impossibly high all around us and we jump and jump, frantically trying to reach them. It’s exhausting. We spend a lot of time seeking to feed our desires, sometimes in unhealthy ways that leave us mindlessly consuming junk. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul names it as idolatry; the prophet Isaiah offers the reminder that there is much we consume that does not satisfy. In his interpretation of verse 2 in The Message, Eugene Petersen describes it in this way:
Why do you spend your money on junk food,
your hard-earned cash on cotton candy?
Now hear me, I like cotton candy, but it certainly is lacking in nutritional value.
Both of our passages today call us to take a bit closer look at the nutritional value of our lives. In doing so, we might discover the things that need to be lessened, or eliminated all-together. That is the work of Lent, where we “clean house” to rid ourselves of the things that consume us more than they should. But it’s important to remember in this that we are doing it not so we can lose a few pounds or make space in our closets or be better people. Lent is about returning to what satisfies us: namely, a relationship with God. If you’re Lenten discipline – something you’ve added, or something you’ve “given up” – isn’t bringing you closer to God, or deeper into a relationship with Jesus Christ, then you are missing the point or doing something wrong! Lenten practices are meant to help us drink more deeply in our faith lives, so that we can better understand the abundance and grace of God in the midst of the wilderness.
The journey of Lent can be daunting. 40 days can seem like forever. But there is good news! Not counted in our 40 days are Sundays. That’s because they are days of little resurrection, times to remember that we are not in the wilderness of our lives alone. Rather, God is with us, a God who provides for us, who loves and cares for us, and who invites us to drink and eat, whether we have the funds to cover it or not. A God who will quench every thirst we have, even if we don’t realize we are thirsty. A God who is with us in the journey, and leads us into life. May it be so. Amen.
~Sermon by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, Heritage Presbyterian Church, March 24, 2019
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[i] http://montreat.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/TrailDescriptionsLegal.pdf
[ii] Daniel M. Debevoise, “Pastoral Perspective: Isaiah 55:1-9,” Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).
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