However, being that we are not desert nomads, hearing Isaiah talk about God’s promises to open up rivers and spout fountains in the valleys may not be quite the same for us. The metaphorical language is poetic and all – but I’m already used to walking to my bathroom or kitchen sink and expecting water to come through the faucet at the lift of a lever. My trust tends to be in the city of Oak Ridge, rather than God, to keep water flowing through my pipes at home. I pay my bill, and there it is, as hot or as cold as I’d like it to be. I also enjoy seeing all the natural water around us – going to watch the rowers at Melton Lake Park or swimming at Little Nemo in the Summer, but rarely do I pause to attribute the beauty and wonder of those places to being inscribed by the hand of God.

This goes to show that this passage can be read differently depending on whether you’re in a faithful or skeptical mood at the time. The faithful read into this passage a sense of comfort and hope. Of course God is quenching real thirsts – whether that’s through the hands of those who determine a need and bring real physical help, or whether that’s through imagining God’s living water renewing us and softening our hardened hearts. And yet the skeptics will point out that poverty and homelessness have never been solved, not then, not now. To say that our needs are met while others’ needs are not seems arrogant, judgmental, and therefore God must either play favorites or not really be helping at all. The skeptics might even argue that I’d be better off writing a thank you note to the city of Oak Ridge for my clean water than spending my time thanking God.

But then, isn’t that the mystery of faithfulness? A choice is there for us. A sleight change of attitude can make all the difference in the world. Do we put our trust in God, or can we only trust ourselves? The faithful choose to trust in God even when our circumstances might suggest we should do otherwise. Whether the story is entrusted to wandering desert nomads, the priests of the Jerusalem Temple, the apostles of Jesus, or today’s churches and holy communities – the story of faith is a reminder that it isn’t all about us. It never has been. God is still actively creating, redeeming, and sustaining our world, and for the faithful, those purposes will become apparent. Through the mouth of the prophet, God says, “Everyone will see this. No one can miss it – unavoidable, indisputable evidence that I, God, personally did this – opened rivers, spouted fountains, and planted trees in the desert.”

Try as we might, we aren’t exactly able to sign our names and take credit for God’s handiwork. We can’t open up rivers on barren hills. We can’t spout forth fountains in the valleys. We cannot turn the badlands into cool ponds, nor turn waterless waste into splashing creeks. God knows this. But otherwise faithful people from early on have tried to do it all on their own. Like our spiritual ancestors have done before us, we muster up our inner 2-year-old and lay claim to the work of the Spirit as our own. I did it. That’s mine. We take credit for being the ones to bring fresh water to the dry places. We were the ones to give a hand to the poor and shelter the homeless. Good people with good ideas can move mountains – or so we’ve thought.

Then the skeptical side reminds us that as much good as we might be able to do, the work really is never done. The thirst will never be satisfied. We cannot give enough goods or resources to help everyone. There isn’t enough time in the day. Our energy wears out. Our patience grows thin. Our own reservoirs dry up. Our love wavers. When we trust in our own power, our abilities quickly turn to limitations and our vision narrows.

Trusting in God, however, allows us to do something else. It allows us to focus outside our human limitations. It allows us the power of forgiveness when we don’t have all the right answers and the courage to step out of God’s way when we are scared of what’s coming next. When we know that God is there offering comfort to the poor and homeless, giving a drink to those whose mouths are too dry to speak, we can do what it takes to contribute our small little parts knowing that God does not forsake us, not even when the world seems forsaken. God does not, will not leave any of us thirsty!

Isaiah wasn’t blind to the pain of his time. In fact he preached these oracles of hope in the midst of uncertainty for God’s people. But he also knew that perhaps not all people would be reconciled with God no matter how clear it was that God was guiding them to new beginnings. There will always be those among us, who are either stuck in the grip of tragic circumstances or who choose the skeptic’s path to turn a blind eye to God’s work in the world. God can show us a vision for faithful living in this world, a vision said to be apparent to EVERYONE with unavoidable, indisputable evidence, and yet, not everyone will believe that the vision is true. Some will just see the fountain in the desert for the fountain, and others will see the fountain and recognize that only God could have made that happen.

The Session of this church has been praying for a sign of hope for us, a recognition that God is working in us and through us, quenching our thirsts, opening up rivers of possibility, planting, watering, and nurturing our growth in spirit and in truth. To that end, together we have articulated a vision – a vision that bears an uncanny resemblance to these few verses in Isaiah – a vision that takes us with a Samaritan woman to the well where Jesus offers us living water – a vision that inspired us to physically bring the gift of clean water to Belize and Appalachia – and a vision that promises renewal in the pews of First Presbyterian Church where you now sit.

But a vision is just that, a vision. Our faith is what makes it real. Can we trust that it is God’s spirit flowing through us to wash, heal and satisfy? Can we trust that a fountain is springing forth right here, right now so that we can share the living water of Christ with others? To me, it looks like God’s signature is all over this. We have been led to water imagery over and over again – as we understand our mission, our worship, our care for each other, our commitment to growing – all are connected. The spiritual energy will come, not just from patting ourselves on the back, but by recognizing as Isaiah did, that The Holy is the only one capable of bringing water into the driest deserts of our existence.

Now when a community of the faithful sets its direction first by trusting The Holy, one is never quite sure what to expect. It may be our best plans that God uses to complete divine initiatives, it could be our worst. As human beings, we’ll try a few things I’m sure, and some will be great, others perhaps not so great. Unfortunately, Biblical evidence is sketchy when it comes to the “how to’s.” But Biblical evidence never ever wavers when it comes to God’s reliability. God’s love is steadfast. God’s love is perfect, casting out all fear. God’s love will never leave us thirsty! Trust in those promises as we watch for that fountain to spring forth, and no matter what else happens, the rest will eventually take care of itself.

Amen.