Waiting for Rain
We heard two scripture passages this morning: one from Joel. And one from the book of Psalms.
And I’m pretty sure that they were both written around this time of year - the time of year when we’ve reached the end of a long, dry summer, and the winter rains have yet to really come.
We haven’t seen a whole lot of rain yet.
We’re moving into the rainy season, and we’re hoping and waiting for the rain to come; but things are still pretty dry.
And when I go hiking, I see many stream beds and creek beds, but only a few of them have water. Most of them are dry in the summer and fall.
There are exceptions. Loch Leven, our camp and retreat center, is located at the base of the tallest mountains in southern California, and even in exceptionally dry years, the stream that flows through Loch Leven always has water in it.
But many streams in southern California only flow in the rainy season; and those streams have all been dry since the beginning of summer.
Arroyos and Wadis
The Spanish have a word for these seasonal streams. They call them arroyos. And because California was Spanish and Mexican before it became part of the United States, one can look at a map of southern California and find a number of arroyos.
When I went camping in July at Leo Carrillo State Park up past Malibu, Arroyo Sequit runs alongside the campground - but there was no water in it while we were there.
And the same is true elsewhere...
When I spent a few days in Yosemite in August, many of the waterfalls were dry.
When I went hiking a few weeks ago in Crystal Cove State Park, in Orange County, all the stream beds were dry.
In most other parts of the world, rain falls throughout the summer; but, being a California kid, I didn’t know that. So, when I was seven, and my family drove across the country to visit relatives in Chicago, in summer, I thought it was so weird when it started raining. Rain in summer is weird.
But I soon learned that California’s climate is unique. In all the world, there’s only a few places where the summers are dry, and where the rains only come in winter.
One place that does have a climate like ours is the eastern Mediterranean - the area around Israel and Palestine, the Holy Land, the setting for much of what we read in the Bible. Ancient Hebrew and modern Arabic even have their own word for the arroyos of that region, the streams that are dry for much of the year: they’re called wadis.
And in summer and fall, the wadis are dry. The land becomes dusty. The plants go dormant. (Many of our native plants lose their leaves in the summer rather than in the winter - you’ve noticed that, right?) The animals are thirsty. And crops that aren’t irrigated are in danger.
And sometimes, the rains come late. Sometimes, it seems as if the rains will never come. And this is, in fact, the situation facing the prophet Joel.
There’s no rain, and Joel imagines that the animals and the crops and even the soil are starting to panic. It’s been too long without water - and what if the water never returns? What if the wadis stay dry? What will happen to the plants and the animals?
A Dry Season
In times like these, there is a lot of worry. There’s a lot of anxiety. One can’t help but focus on what we don’t have, the water that hasn’t come. The focus is on scarcity. There is a lack of resources. A dwindling water supply means a dwindling food supply, and what if we run out? What happens if the rains don’t come?
That fear - that anxiety - is something a lot of people are experiencing today. Not just here in California, and not just because of the weather…
We’re experiencing a high level of anxiety for a number of reasons. Our anxiety is high because of the pandemic, and because of the economy, and because of stuck cargo ships that mean we might not get our Christmas gifts in time…
Our anxiety is high because of racial tension, and the increasing boldness of white supremacists, and the inability of our judicial system to demonstrate that Black lives matter as much as white lives. Our anxiety is high because of how difficult it is these days for people to find housing, or even to just make ends meet, given that wages have been stuck for years, while the billionaires in this country are using their riches to take joyrides into space…
And we wonder if the streams of justice will ever flow again. We wonder if the rivers of opportunity will ever flow again.
The prophet Amos says, “let justice flow down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream…” but right now the streams are dry.
And all of humanity is thirsty. And all of creation is afraid.
The animals... The plants... And even the soil itself.
In the midst of all this, the words of the prophet Joel catch my attention: “Do not fear, O soil; be glad and rejoice, for the LORD has done great things! Do not fear, you animals of the field, for the pastures of the wilderness are green…”
And the words of Psalm 126 catch my attention: “Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like the watercourses in the Negeb.” Let the waters flow again. Let the waters of justice and peace and hope flow again...
The prophet and the psalmist both provide hope that the rivers will flow again. In fact, they even poetically describe scenes in which those rivers are already flowing. That’s the vision they have, a vision in which the river of God’s justice is always flowing - always has, and always will. The stream of blessing is always flowing - always has, and always will.
The prophet proclaims: “O children of Zion, be glad and rejoice in the LORD your God; for he has given the early rain for your vindication, he has poured down for you abundant rain, the early and the later rain, as before.”
And I get the feeling that this rain hasn’t actually come yet..., but the prophet is so sure that it is coming, that the prophet speaks as though it has already arrived.
And the psalmist proclaims: “The Lord has done great things for us... Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves...”
In the psalmist’s world, the people are still living in a hard time; to most people, it does not seem that the Lord has done great things for them… because the psalmist also asks that God “restore our fortunes.” If blessings come down to earth like rain, then the people were still living in a time of drought.
And neither the prophet nor the psalmist ignore that. It’s important to acknowledge pain and hardship and suffering and injustice...
But at the same time, both the prophet and the psalmist have such confidence in God that they are able to rejoice in God’s faithfulness, and give thanks for the blessings that have not yet arrived, the blessings they cannot yet see. The people can rejoice as if the blessings were already here, because God is faithful. The people can rejoice even in the midst of drought, because God is faithful.
Deep Roots
One reason why I like hiking in canyons, along the streams and arroyos, is because of the beautiful trees that grow there. The tops of the mountains have great views, but in the canyons, along the arroyos, that’s where the shade is. That’s where the trees grow.
Some of my favorite trees are the sycamores. Sycamores are so prevalent in our canyons that one of the places where I’ve hiked and camped is actually called Sycamore Canyon.
Ginger recently trained to be a garden docent at Rancho Los Cerritos, where there is a beautiful, large sycamore tree, and she reminded me that sycamores are water seekers. They are thirsty, they drink lots of water, and will only grow where water flows in abundance.
But those canyons where I’ve gone hiking - there’s been no water flowing in them for at least six months. There is no water flowing in Sycamore Canyon. How do the sycamores thrive?
They thrive, because water is flowing - just not on the surface… just not where I can see it. But below ground, the river still flows.
And the sycamore will send its roots down deep - deeper than other trees - to find that flowing water. That’s how the sycamore thrives… by planting itself beside the arroyo, and sending its roots down deep to where the water flows year-round.
Likewise, for us - though it has been harder for us to see God’s blessings in the midst of the pandemic, and harder for us to have hope - the river of God’s blessings continues flowing as well.
Even though we are filled with despair and filled with anxiety, we can give thanks to God, because God’s justice will not fail. We can give thanks to God because God’s blessings continue to flow.
We may not see justice now, but justice is there, below the surface, and will not fail to return to the surface in due time. We may not be able to see the blessings that are flowing, but the blessings are still flowing, just like the water flowing underground in the arroyos and in the wadis.
Ever-flowing Blessings
There was once another prophet, whose name was Habakkuk. And Habakkuk got tired of waiting. Habakkuk saw only the dry, dusty soil, but Habakkuk couldn’t see that there was a stream still flowing beneath the surface; and so Habakkuk fell into despair.
Habakkuk complained to God. “Look, God,” he cried out; “Don’t you see? There is violence and injustice all around! Things here are not going in a good direction! And you’re not doing anything about it!”
Then Habakkuk went to a spot where he sat down and waited for God to respond to his accusation.
And good for Habakkuk! It’s OK to complain to God. It’s OK to make an accusation against God. Many prophets have done so!
But then, after they voice their complaint, they sit in silence and wait for God’s response. If you have a complaint against God, go voice your complaint. If you have an accusation to make against God, go make it. Shout it to God. And then sit and wait for God to respond.
Habakkuk sat and waited for God to respond, and eventually, God did respond. God said to Habakkuk: “there is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end, and does not lie! If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay.”
Be glad and rejoice, for the rain is coming. Justice is coming. Peace is coming. God’s blessings are coming.
In fact, justice and peace and blessings are already here. And like the sycamore, we need to plant ourselves, and send down our roots to find them.
And that is what I’m thankful for. I’m thankful, because I know that, no matter how difficult things are, no matter how anxious I feel… hope and blessing remain. God’s justice continues to flow.
If despair overwhelms me and I find it hard to be thankful; if anxiety overcomes me and I dread what is about to come; that’s when I need to go out and find a sycamore tree, in an arroyo or in a park… and sit patiently there by that sycamore, until I remember that God’s blessings are, in fact, still there, still flowing, and that, as the psalmist says, all the tears of sorrow will be transformed into shouts of joy.
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