He turns rivers into desert, springs of water into thirsty ground, a fruitful land into a salty waste, because of the evil of its inhabitants. He turns a desert into pools of water, a parched land into springs of water. And there He lets the hungry dwell, and they establish a city to live in. They sow fields and plant vineyards and get a fruitful yield. By His blessing they multiply greatly, and He does not let their livestock diminish...Whoever is wise, let him attend to these things. Let them consider the steadfast love of the Lord. (Verses 33-38; 43)
It was the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles. The Jews celebrated this holiday in the fall at the end of the harvest season. During the week of festivities, the nation of Israel was remembering their sojourn in the desert where they slept in tents, ever ready to pick up and move when the daily cloud of God's Presence or the nighttime pillar of fire signaled it was time to travel. The Jewish people of Jesus's day hastily created make-shift shelters in which they ate their meals for the week, remembering in a tangible way the journey of their ancestors. Giving to others marked the days of the celebration, making God's generosity to them a reciprocal gift to others in need.
Into the noisy business of rejoicing stepped Jesus on the last day of the feast. The most important day. Through the crowds He and His disciples wandered, speaking with some, probably eating some of the harvested fruits and vegetables. Unaware that in their midst was the Lord of the feast. The pillar of fire and cloud by day manifested in the flesh in a marketplace. Come to touch His people, to smell their sweat, shake their hands and eat their produce. Christ, Messiah, moving in a market.
What He saw though? Hunger and thirst. Though the actual harvest had been good that year, it was a different reaping that was on the mind of Jesus. He looked into the soulless eyes of those whose lives had dried up. Starved for love and significance. Pressed up against Him in the crowds were the sick and lonely. The oppressed and poor. Children grasped His leg and begged for a coin or two. Temple merchants upped the price of the sacrifices to profit from the holiday. People with nothing packed like sardines in with the rich and self-righteous. Imagine being God and walking in our ordinariness. Unimpressed with all we believe is the actual because God lives in the realm of forever and this is just a reflection of reality as He knows it. Our struggles and fears small and our world view only extending a few feet in front of our daily life. Ah...He could change all of that. Pour into us the life He would die to bring. Call forth a deluge of living water into the desert that is our existence. Feed us with manna from the words of His mouth. Open up our souls and live inside us, plumping our desiccation with His Spirit.
On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, "If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, 'Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.'" Not the meek little Jesus some think of. No, Jesus, mixing with the crowd, filled with compassion for their spiritual and physical neediness, shouted out to them that He was living water. "Believe in Me!" He yelled. And everyone turned to look. This Jesus Who healed the sick and delivered prostitutes from their plight, Who talked with Samaritan women and touched lepers, Who ate with a mean little tax collector stuck up in a tree and honored a destitute woman for giving her last penny at the temple, Who didn't have a place to call home and walked the dusty roads with twelve average men--this Man stood in their midst and cried out to their pain. "I can quench your thirst." And He was speaking of the Spirit. Who indwells believers. Who fills the once empty spaces of our lives with joy, splashing, happy, rejuvenating joy. The plan of God all along to not simply walk among us, but to, by the death and resurrection of Jesus, live in us. Give us the power to live a godly life. The thing missing from the laws. Rules we humans can't fully obey. Now relationship trumps the law for we are loved to pieces by the One Who roamed our roads and ate in our homes. Father, Son and Spirit knew that if they could actually live in the broken, empty spaces in our lives, our deserts would be filled with springs of water and we'd find a place to finally dwell in safety.
He came for those of us who have wandered in waste lands of our own making, purposeless and powerless, the spiritual homeless. While we sat in the prisons of our sinful choices, God saw us there and waited for us to cry to Him in our misery. On dangerous seas, our lives rocked by the turbulence of our circumstances, we've needed to shout His name in the storm. With bated breath, our God attends to our lives and listens for the acknowledgement that we need Him. Because He desires to meet the need. Oh what love that must take to yearn for the willful wanderer to come home. To hope for acknowledgment that is our freedom, not our jail. To know all He has to pour into us, but to patiently watch our dramas play out. Loving us the whole time. At the moment we admit our hunger and thirst, God is there! And all of heaven rejoices over one lost soul refreshed.
It was the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles. The Jews celebrated this holiday in the fall at the end of the harvest season. During the week of festivities, the nation of Israel was remembering their sojourn in the desert where they slept in tents, ever ready to pick up and move when the daily cloud of God's Presence or the nighttime pillar of fire signaled it was time to travel. The Jewish people of Jesus's day hastily created make-shift shelters in which they ate their meals for the week, remembering in a tangible way the journey of their ancestors. Giving to others marked the days of the celebration, making God's generosity to them a reciprocal gift to others in need.
Into the noisy business of rejoicing stepped Jesus on the last day of the feast. The most important day. Through the crowds He and His disciples wandered, speaking with some, probably eating some of the harvested fruits and vegetables. Unaware that in their midst was the Lord of the feast. The pillar of fire and cloud by day manifested in the flesh in a marketplace. Come to touch His people, to smell their sweat, shake their hands and eat their produce. Christ, Messiah, moving in a market.
What He saw though? Hunger and thirst. Though the actual harvest had been good that year, it was a different reaping that was on the mind of Jesus. He looked into the soulless eyes of those whose lives had dried up. Starved for love and significance. Pressed up against Him in the crowds were the sick and lonely. The oppressed and poor. Children grasped His leg and begged for a coin or two. Temple merchants upped the price of the sacrifices to profit from the holiday. People with nothing packed like sardines in with the rich and self-righteous. Imagine being God and walking in our ordinariness. Unimpressed with all we believe is the actual because God lives in the realm of forever and this is just a reflection of reality as He knows it. Our struggles and fears small and our world view only extending a few feet in front of our daily life. Ah...He could change all of that. Pour into us the life He would die to bring. Call forth a deluge of living water into the desert that is our existence. Feed us with manna from the words of His mouth. Open up our souls and live inside us, plumping our desiccation with His Spirit.
On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, "If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, 'Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.'" Not the meek little Jesus some think of. No, Jesus, mixing with the crowd, filled with compassion for their spiritual and physical neediness, shouted out to them that He was living water. "Believe in Me!" He yelled. And everyone turned to look. This Jesus Who healed the sick and delivered prostitutes from their plight, Who talked with Samaritan women and touched lepers, Who ate with a mean little tax collector stuck up in a tree and honored a destitute woman for giving her last penny at the temple, Who didn't have a place to call home and walked the dusty roads with twelve average men--this Man stood in their midst and cried out to their pain. "I can quench your thirst." And He was speaking of the Spirit. Who indwells believers. Who fills the once empty spaces of our lives with joy, splashing, happy, rejuvenating joy. The plan of God all along to not simply walk among us, but to, by the death and resurrection of Jesus, live in us. Give us the power to live a godly life. The thing missing from the laws. Rules we humans can't fully obey. Now relationship trumps the law for we are loved to pieces by the One Who roamed our roads and ate in our homes. Father, Son and Spirit knew that if they could actually live in the broken, empty spaces in our lives, our deserts would be filled with springs of water and we'd find a place to finally dwell in safety.
He came for those of us who have wandered in waste lands of our own making, purposeless and powerless, the spiritual homeless. While we sat in the prisons of our sinful choices, God saw us there and waited for us to cry to Him in our misery. On dangerous seas, our lives rocked by the turbulence of our circumstances, we've needed to shout His name in the storm. With bated breath, our God attends to our lives and listens for the acknowledgement that we need Him. Because He desires to meet the need. Oh what love that must take to yearn for the willful wanderer to come home. To hope for acknowledgment that is our freedom, not our jail. To know all He has to pour into us, but to patiently watch our dramas play out. Loving us the whole time. At the moment we admit our hunger and thirst, God is there! And all of heaven rejoices over one lost soul refreshed.
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