For as the rain and snow come down from heaven and do not return there until they have watered the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that
goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.”
– Isaiah 55:10-11
Beloved of God,
The return of rain as autumn begins is greening up dormant grass and dusting off leaves, making the colors of fall shine all the brighter. As I write, storm clouds outside my study window have parted long enough for a peekaboo sun to light up glistening leaves. After five months of below average precipitation, the return of significant rainfall is a welcome sight—and something within me sighs in relief – Hallelujah!
Rain—the gift that keeps on giving in a cycle that has sustained life on Earth for millennia beyond number—is easy to take for granted during wet winter days. But the lack of it sets off alarms within my Northwest psyche. Thankfully, those alarms are being tamped down now as each new storm wave rolls through.
Bachalpsee, above Grindelwald
On one of my family’s favorite days last June, high above the Swiss town of Grindelwald, we were caught in a mountain squall at 7,100 feet. As light showers morphed into a full-fledged downpour, the mountain lodge we were visiting filled up with tourists seeking shelter. We, on the other hand, smugly outfitted in raingear, remained outside under the building’s eaves, watching the heavy drops turn into hail. A cup of hot chocolate later, it let up enough for us to begin our hike to Lake Bachalp, a 3.6 mile round trip. But it wasn’t long before the rain resumed, leaving our boots, socks, and pants soaked to the bone. Yet—and this was the best part—we treated it as high adventure; a thrilling experience to be savored rather than escaped from.
In the 55th chapter of Isaiah (above), the lifegiving water cycle becomes a metaphor for God’s word; a testimony to God’s steadfast accompaniment and the long arc of God’s promises. Depending on where rain or snow falls on a given landscape, its journey through the full water cycle may be measured in days, decades, or millennia. So too, God’s voice finds purchase in our lives in varying ways on varying timelines. When the Word became flesh in Jesus, that arc touched down as never before, uniting heaven and earth. The arc of God’s word, like the falling rain, is still touching down, showering its blessing upon us as we gather each week to listen for God’s address to us and to respond with lives of faithful service.
As October begins we once again celebrate the life and legacy of St. Francis of Assisi. Listening for the voice of God did not come naturally to Francis. It only became possible after a series of experiences punctured a hole in his inflated aspirations, leaving him in a literal and spiritual prison as dry as dust. Into that parched place God’s voice finally spoke to Francis in a way he was now able to receive it: “FRANCIS,” the Voice said, “MY CHURCH IS FALLING INTO RUIN—REBUILD IT.” This Voice of the Lord landed on Francis like a sudden squall, soaking him, refreshing him, and pointing him toward a new venture that brought renewal to the church of his time and still reverberates in our own.
When we gather for worship, when we come to Font and Table, we open ourselves to receive what is needed to sustain life. We enter into the Faith Cycle, which, like the Water Cycle, brings sustenance not only to ourselves but to all whose lives intersect with our own. Let’s make this month a time for reconnecting with Living water!
With you on the Way,
Pastor Erik
Welcome to worship! We’re glad you found us.
What does this mean?
