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 Replenishing the Dried Out Soul

Isaiah 35:1-10

December 12, 2004

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,

          the desert shall rejoice and blossom;

      like the crocus ²it shall blossom abundantly,

          and rejoice with joy and singing.

      The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it,

          the majesty of Carmel and Sharon.

      They shall see the glory of the LORD,

          the majesty of our God.

³     Strengthen the weak hands,

          and make firm the feeble knees.

⁴     Say to those who are of a fearful heart,

          “Be strong, do not fear!

      Here is your God.

          He will come with vengeance,

      with terrible recompense.

          He will come and save you.”

⁵     Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,

          and the ears of the deaf unstopped;

⁶     then the lame shall leap like a deer,

          and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.

      For waters shall break forth in the wilderness,

          and streams in the desert;

⁷     the burning sand shall become a pool,

          and the thirsty ground springs of water;

      the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp,^£

          the grass shall become reeds and rushes.

⁸     A highway shall be there,

          and it shall be called the Holy Way;

      the unclean shall not travel on it,^£

          but it shall be for God’s people;^£

          no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray.

⁹     No lion shall be there,

          nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it;

      they shall not be found there,

          but the redeemed shall walk there.

¹⁰    And the ransomed of the LORD shall return,

          and come to Zion with singing;

      everlasting joy shall be upon their heads;

          they shall obtain joy and gladness,

        and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

I finally had to turn the station.

For perhaps the 42^nd time since the beginning of the holidays the commercial had begun.  With the clip-clopping any listener could tell was the sound of a woman’s heels as she walked on a tile floor, perhaps like that of a mall or a department store. 

Then the first voice, a woman, pleasantly saying, “Hi, what a surprise to see you here.”

Answered by another woman’s voice, somewhat urgently saying, “Hi, how are you doing, Good to see you too, goodbye,” sounding something like a parrot on speed or an audio tape sped up just enough to still be understandable.

The commercial, which to this moment, has left me wondering what exactly it is peddling, then continues to alternate between an announcer selling the product and this poor, pathetic, harried, busy woman, blasting by acquaintance after acquaintance as her clip clopping shoes give cadence to her crazy life.

After hearing it dozens of times, I finally had to turn it off, realizing that as I did, it hurt to hear it, because so often this season, that’s exactly how I felt…focused.  Too focused.  Focused and intense to the point of having blinders on to important things, to good things around me, to the sounds of my families’ voices and the sights of their faces, the joy of the season or the plea of Christ’s call around me.

Such focus lends to a certain spiritual aridity, a brittleness and dried up, rigidity and lack of richness and depth that is very well illustrated by that clip-clopping, stunted, stilted character in that radio commercial.

I recently heard of an interesting experiment that was conducted some years ago to ascertain what factors enabled people to act lovingly and what factors worked against the same thing. A seminary professor recruited fifteen volunteers from his class to meet him at his office at two p.m. - when they arrived, he handed out sealed instructions.
Five of the envelopes instructed the recipients to proceed across the campus without delay. They were told, "You have fifteen minutes to reach this place. You have no time to spare. Don't loiter or do anything else, or your grade will be docked." These five were coded "The High Hurry Group."
The next five were instructed that, anytime in the next forty-five minutes, they were to make their way across the campus. "You've plenty of time," they were told. "But don't be too slow." They were coded "The Medium Hurry Group."
The last five were told that, anytime before five o'clock that afternoon, they were to report across campus, and there they would receive further instructions. This group was known as "The Low Hurry Group."
Unbeknownst to any of these students, the professor had arranged for some drama majors at Princeton University to be situated alongside the path they had to take, simulating great human needfulness. One was sitting with his head in his hands, crying and wailing in a way one couldn't ignore. Another was lying face down, as if he had had some kind of seizure and was unconscious ... all fifteen of the students had to make their way past these obviously needy persons, and here's what happened.
None of "The High Hurry Group" stopped to see what they could do, although all five of them aspired to be Christian ministers. Two of "The Medium Hurry Group" stopped to try to help. All five of "The Low Hurry Group" made attempts to be responsive.
-John Claypool, Stories Jesus Still Tells (New York: McCracken Press, 1993), 107.

Often times, and especially recently during this holiday crush, I feel like I’ve belonged to this high hurry group, to this desert dry, full speed ahead, with no deviation for burning bushes, wounded, non-Samaritans or anything else that could conspire to take me off schedule or draw me from the urgent task at hand.

The first verse of the hymn Joy to the world goes like this:

Joy to the world! the Lord is come;
Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare Him room,
and heaven and nature sing,

…Let every heart Prepare him room..

I think so often we become so busy, so focused on everything else, we squeeze out and can no longer invite in the Lord who comes to fill our hearts with joy and gladness and the fresh, cool spirit of God, like water in a desert.

Once upon a time there was a peasant, his wife, and their tiny cottage. The place was simply too small. They never had guests because there was no room at the table. They couldn't raise a family because there was no place for children to sleep. There was barely room for the two of them in that house, and they were starting to get in each other's way and on each other's nerves. They needed a bigger house.
Well, as luck - and fairy tales - would have it, a wizard arrived to grant their desires.
"You shall have a bigger house," he said, "but first you must do as I tell you."
"First," he instructed, "you must bring all your chickens, ducks, geese, and fowl into the house with you. Next, bring in the dogs and the cats and the pigs and the cows and the horses and the goat." Well, the peasant and his wife pushed, and they shoved, and they squeezed them all tight - and still the wizard demanded they do more.
"Now," he proclaimed, "invite all your neighbors - and all of their animals, too. Put on a feast for them, and by tonight you shall have your big house."
It didn't seem possible that the entire neighborhood could fit into the overstuffed cottage, but the invitations were sent and soon the banquet had begun. It was a noisy and crowded affair, but a festive one. Eventually, every neighbor, beast, fish, and fowl had been welcomed, wined and dined. When all had finished and bade their farewells, the peasant and his wife collapsed in happy exhaustion and put up their feet to rest. It was then that they noticed how spacious their home had become. There was actually room to stretch out and relax. The wizard had granted their wish. That night they decided to start a family.
-Dwight Currie, How We Behave at the Feast (New York: Cliff Street Books, 2000), 67.

Often during our high hurry times, when we’re wiped out, and tired and have nothing left to give, we feel like there’s no room left for anything more!

And there may not be, but perhaps our houses, our homes, the spiritual vessel that holds our souls and, our selves and our hearts are filled with too many other things and not enough of that which will replenish, restore and renew us and each other.

During these last several weeks, I don’t know how many times I’ve heard the clanging of the Salvation Army bell and the supermarket or the Mall entrance and hadn’t even had a moment to spare to stop and peel loose a dollar or two for the red bucket.’

But you see, I’m sure I’m not the only one whose fallen into this trap.  This arid, crispy dry spirituality, this over-focused, under-sensitive and dangerously single-minded way of being has become a part of living in this country in this particular point in history.  So much so that our culture has become a dried out desert landscape of arid spirituality, jangled nerves and over-focused dried out intensity.

Otherwise that commercial I mentioned earlier would not have been so popular and all over the radio waves.  But also because giving to charities like the salvation Army is down this year – did you hear that Target stores and a number of other retailers have banned bell ringers from in front of their stores because they didn’t want to bother their customers this year?  I thought it a bit ironic since they didn’t also ban the annoying fluorescent lighting in their stores, the incessant garish and overwhelming advertising and noise inside their stores and their commercials on TV in our newspapers as well.

America has become a desert of consumerism, materialism and blinders-on, dried out superficiality.

To that the words of the prophet Isaisah respond,

     Here is your God.

       He will come with vengeance,

     with terrible recompense.

       He will come and save you.”

⁵    Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,

       and the ears of the deaf unstopped;

⁶    then the lame shall leap like a deer,

       and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.

     For waters shall break forth in the wilderness,

       and streams in the desert;

⁷    the burning sand shall become a pool,

       and the thirsty ground springs of water;

     the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp,^£

       the grass shall become reeds and rushes.

⁸    A highway shall be there,

       and it shall be called the Holy Way;

     the unclean shall not travel on it,^£

       but it shall be for God’s people;^£

       no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray.

⁹    No lion shall be there,

       nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it;

     they shall not be found there,

       but the redeemed shall walk there.

This Advent and Christmas Season is supposed to be a season of celebrating the coming messiah, a season that helps us find a way, the Holy Way.  The presence of the Christ in our lives is a presence that should help us to reprioritize, to give us a sense of our his presence, his providence, the abundance around us and within us, the feel that we have all we need, that God provides for us and we can slow down, refocus, breath slowly and drink deeply  of the waters of his goodness and his grace.

But instead, often times, we hurry past the promise and don’t invite him in.

Often times, we’ve so focused on what to do and what we’ve been doing that we lose touché whith what we feel tugging at our hearts telling us what we know we must do.

Consider the grandmother who took her little granddaughter along on a Christmas shopping trip. After watching her grand- mother choose and buy gifts all morning, the little one was taken for her promised visit to Santa Claus. She made her requests politely, and as she started to leave, the jolly gentleman handed her a candy cane. "What do you say?" prompted the grandmother. Little Ann furrowed her brows in thought, then smiled brightly and announced, "Charge it?"

When it comes to priorities and being so distracted by what seems so urgent, one author [Repacking Your Bags: Lighten Your Load for the Rest of Your Life (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler, 1995),] tells of experiencing a "blinding glimpse of the obvious" while leading a backpacking safari in East Africa.

"I had a state-of-the-art backpack loaded with every gadget imaginable. My group was accompanied by a Masai chief who carried a knife and a stick only. At the end of the day, I was completely exhausted while the chief was fresh as a daisy. He asked me to show him what was in my pack, and as I did, explaining why each component was crucial, of course, he asked, 'But does all of this make you happy?' I ended up leaving about half of my stuff in the Masai village. Actually, I could have left more."
--as quoted in interview in Boomer Report, February 1995, 4.

What can we each do to lighten our own load?  To receive our king and prepare him room?  And allow all the waters of spiritual cleansing, washing and replenishing courd over us and clean us of the dusty, dried out brittleness of always doing, working, rushing, accomplishing and hurrying?  The prophet Isaiah says,

     The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,

       the desert shall rejoice and blossom;

     like the crocus ²it shall blossom abundantly,

       and rejoice with joy and singing.

     The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it,

       the majesty of Carmel and Sharon.

     They shall see the glory of the LORD,

       the majesty of our God.

How do we allow this prophecy to come true in our lives this year?

Can we prepare him room and allow his presence to give root to something more loving, caring and calm?

After I hear that commercial this week and finally had to turn the station, I came to the office angry and tired.

Suddenly I had an idea.  I pulled out some CD’s of Christian praise music and began to sing as I worked.  I turned off the talk and sports radio in the car, which to me often drones in the background, like the clip-clopping of that woman’s shoes in the commercial.  At least for a few hours, something changed for me, I felt the joy and the praise of the season welling up within me, and the gladness of the good news was real to me, of how the valley of dried bones can come alive and the desert can be freshened with water!

The true challenge is to make lasting change in our lives and in our culture so that all the time we might travel in the highway of the coming Christ, that Holy Way, set apart, safe and secure from the distracting, depressing frustrating busyness and hurry of this world.

During Christmas this year, my wish for you is that you and I together might find some of this holy streams of water that makes the deserts bubble and replenishes the dried out soul.

Amen.