“Drought”
A Sermon Preached by the
Rev. Jean Niven Lenk
Sunday, August 19, 2012
First Congregational Church of Stoughton, United
Church of Christ
Text: Exodus 17:1-17
Months ago, our Faith-4-Life Youth set aside this very day, August
19, for a white water rafting trip to Western Massachusetts. What great fun they were anticipating when
the plans were first announced last spring.
An exhilarating ride down the rapids, the cold river waters refreshing
them as the hot summer sun beat down upon them.
But as this summer has unfolded, something has happened that we
did not anticipate. A drought has
overtaken the United States, and up here in our corner of the country, out in
the western part of our state, those river rapids have been reduced to a
trickle in some parts. In fact, on some
parts of the river, there is so little water that you have to get out of the
raft and carry it to the next section of water.
So instead of a rafting trip, the kids have gone on a whale watch
today, out into the ocean where there is still plenty of water, and we hope
they are having a wonderful time on this beautiful summer day!
Relatively speaking, our level of drought here in New England is
only moderate. Out in the Midwest, the
drought is severe, one of the worst in our country’s history. Cattle ponds have dried up, crops are in danger,
and the mighty Mississippi has lost some of its might.
It is a sad fact of life that we often take something for granted
until we don’t have it. And this summer,
that’s what’s happened with water. But
lack of water is nothing new. Indeed,
water was often in short supply in the ancient Near East and lack of water is a
recurrent theme throughout the bible.
This morning’s scripture lesson from Exodus takes place a while
after the ancient Hebrews’ dramatic escape from Egyptian bondage across Red Sea
as God held back the waters. By the time
this scene takes place, they have been wandering in the desert for a
while. What with the sun and the wind
and the sand, it’s not too long before they are parched with thirst. They aren’t used to being out in the wilderness,
left to their own devices. They are
actually city folk, accustomed to the spare but reliable benefits of slavery,
which ensured them regular food and water to keep up their strength up for
their back-breaking labor.
Yes, the freedom for which they have been thirsting for so long is
blessed. It’s wonderful. It’s also unfamiliar. And frightening. And dry.
Bondage under pharaoh may have been terrible, but at least the
Hebrews knew what to expect. Their
freedom, on the other hand, has thrust them into a barren, dusty, seemingly
God-forsaken wilderness where the sun and the heat are unrelenting and there is
no water.
How ironic that to get to this point, they had relied on God to
turn back those Red Sea waters so they could escape from the Egyptian
soldiers. They knew God had been with
them when water was an obstacle. Where
is God now, now that it’s the lack of water that could be their death sentence?
This is freedom? It feels more like
hell, even worse than Egyptian bondage, if that is possible.
And so, in their thirst, the Hebrews rail against their leader
Moses. “Why did you bring us out of
Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?”
Moses has his own unique history with water. At the time of his birth, pharaoh felt
threatened by the growing Hebrew population and had ordered all boys born to
slaves be drowned in the Nile. So his
mother had placed her baby boy in a straw basket and sent him down the river,
hoping against hope that the waters in which he was supposed to die would
instead carry him to safety. And for
Moses, the waters of death become the waters of life.
But now it is water – or lack of it -- that has made him the target of
the Hebrews’ rebellious ire. Sure, you
have brought us out of bondage, across the Red Sea, to freedom. But what have you done for us lately, Moses?
You know, we can almost picture
Moses putting his head in his hands and asking himself, or God, or maybe no one
in particular, “Ayayay, what am I going to do with these people??!!!”
Because the last time the Hebrews were thirsty, just after they had made
it through the Red Sea, God turned the bitter water of Marah sweet and
drinkable. And when they had become
hungry, God rained down upon them manna and quail to eat.
And so Moses asks them, “Why do you test the Lord?”
But the Hebrews have short memories -- very short. “Is the Lord among us or not?”
And we can almost hear Moses responding, “You must be kidding! Who is that
cloud we have been following by day ?
Who is that pillar of fire who has been leading us by night? Is the Lord among us?!!?? Ayayay!”
The Lord is among the Hebrews, of course.
God always has been, God always will be – with them and with us. And in yet another demonstration of divine
providential care, in this morning’s passage, God instructs Moses to strike a
rock to bring forth water for the people to drink.
But we see throughout the Exodus story that hunger and thirst and
emptiness and impatience punctuate the Hebrews’ 40-year journey in the
wilderness. Certainly, physical hunger
and thirst are real. But those physical
needs and the sense of dissatisfaction the Hebrews experience are also symbolic
of deep longings in the soul, of a spiritual yearning that can only be
fulfilled by God.
In this drought-ravaged summer of 2012, many of us are suffering from a
spiritual thirst caused by dry areas in our own lives. We may find that our marriage has hit a dry
patch, or a special relationship has become arid. Maybe loss or illness – our own or a loved
one’s -- has left us feeling parched and wrung dry. Maybe something else has left us feeling weak
and desiccated.
Where has this summer’s drought become a spiritual reality for you?
Physically, we need
water. Without it, our bodies end up
dehydrated and gasping. And spiritually,
we need God, without whom our souls end up shriveled and shrunken.
And so, my prayer for your
during this long, hot summer, is that your thirst be quenched by drinking
deeply from the One who makes rivulets run from a rock, who turns bitter water
into sweet, who promises streams in the desert and mighty rivers in the dry land
and living water to wash away every tear.
And this summer and always, may your souls be refreshed, renewed, and
restored by the God who is always among us.
Amen.
