Isaiah 55: 1-13

March 11, 2007

Rev. Elizabeth Macaulay

 

There is a story told in the Hebrew tradition.

 

According to this story, an angel comes down from heaven when a child is born, takes the child under its wing, and recites the Torah, or the teachings of God.  At the end of the recitation, the angel places a finger on the upper lip of the child, creating the indentation that each human possesses there, and says, ‘Forget’.  The child then journeys through life trying to remember.

 

Have you felt that tug, that sense that there is something missing in your life, some call or word or breath that needs knitting into yourself in order to feel whole?

 

Well, according to the wisdom of the Hebrews, you are feeling the need to remember.  To remember the touch and the word of God.

 

We do that seeking for wholeness in so many ways.  We seek to fill that emptiness with so much that is not bread, as scripture says, and we work so hard sometimes for things which do not satisfy.

 

One of the things we do to this hunger in our souls is seek to medicate it away.

 

Many of us drink, or smoke, or use chemicals in ways that numb us because it hurts too much to feel fully the lives we have.

 

Chemical abuse is at its core a spiritual thirst and hunger gone awry.

 

The Rev. James Nelson is a theologian who was on the faculty of United Theological Seminary here in the Twin Cities.  He retired before I got there, unfortunately, but he wrote a book recently about his own dance with alcohol.  It is called “Thirst”.

 

He speaks in his book what people in the recovery movement have long known – the truth that psychologist Carl Jung, when writing to the founder of AA put this way: 

 

Roland’s craving for alcohol was the equivalent on a low level of the spiritual thirst of our being for wholeness… you see, alcohol in Latin is spiritus and you use the same word for the highest religious experience as well as for the most depraving poison.”

 

Nelson goes on to say that in its fundamental dynamic, alcoholism is longing for the Spirit (and paradoxically) it finally takes the Spirit to counter the spirits.  There is a thirst behind the thirst.  Some name it the desire for God.  (pg. 28, Thirst)

 

Nelson and the AA movement are aware of how drink is used to quench a spiritual thirst.  But we all know that there are many things we use in our life to quench a thirst or satisfy our God shaped loneliness.

 

Some of us keep ourselves so busy.  We shape our life in such a way that we have no time or room to feel.  We work for that which does not satisfy and we aren’t even sure why we do it.  The misery we feel in trying to do so much is real and the stretch on our lives is so painful and we keep going and keep going and keep going because to stop is to take the chance that we may discover that we detest the empty chaos that is our lives.

 

The prophet Isaiah wrote the words we are tasting on this day to a people who were frightened and afraid.  They had been pushed out of all the things they thought they knew made for good and solid life.  They were in exile in Babylon, and they missed the temple and the homes and the sure sense that they knew who they were as a people of God.

 

And what the prophet told them was this:  in the midst of the challenges and fear that is your life, don’t forget this (the indentation on your top lip).  Don’t forget that God is bread and drink for your soul and don’t forget that you cannot medicate that God hunger into submission and you cannot work it into numbness.

 

What you are to do is allow the waters of God’s grace and forgiveness and undying love to soak into the parched and hurting places in your life in order that you live your life with joy.  With gratitude for the magnificently unique child of God that you are.

 

Why is it so hard to embrace that person and share that person – ourselves – with God and with creation?

 

I want to share some more wisdom from James Nelson.  Because it is the antidote to the dryness of our souls.

 

He talks about how important it is to listen to ourselves.  To be open to the still small voice of God within and through us and the voice that would have us examine how it is we are spirit people.

 

“In spite of being well into mid-life when I became actively alcoholic, and in spite of years of dealing professionally with issues of the deeper self, I was still listening too intently to others’ voices telling me who I was.  From our early grade-school days we are taught to listen to everyone but ourselves, and when those outside clues get built into our egos it is difficult to hear the deeper and truer voice within.  This is heteronomy, listening to “the strange god.”

 

If recovery is to begin, there must be truth in the inward being.  I had to listen to the truth about myself, including what I did not want to hear.  It takes patience. 

 

In that listening I learned to name the thirst I really felt within, and it was a thirst beyond that for alcohol.  The truth leading to recovery had to come by hearing and recognizing the voice of God within myself.”  (Thirst, pg. 172)

 

Listen.  Along with the fully 6% of our population that knows itself to be addicted to alcohol, there are the rest who know themselves to be thirsty for the sweet watering found in remembering God’s whisper of love in our ear.

 

We won’t drink freely from the waters of life until we become immaculate listeners to the voice of God sounding in our souls.

 

To listen for and hear that voice is to remember.  To know joy so fully embodied that the very trees of the field clap their hands and all of creation rejoices.

 

Ho, everyone who thirsts – is that you?  Come to the waters.

 

The waters of life.

 

Amen