Teach Us Where the Bucket Is

O God, we gather at your waters, as a hot and bothered crowd
gathers on the beach on a sweltering, summer day.
O God, we drink at your fountain,
as a parched dog laps at the fresh,
running water of a bush creek.
O God, we await your refreshment,
as a tired worker watches for the change of shift.
Quench our thirst, satisfy our longings.
May we be refreshed and restored in you.

It’s one of the Calls to Worship from Uniting in Worship 2, the Uniting Church’s book of model orders of service. I wrote it about 15 years ago when Russell and I were in Stanthorpe in the middle of a drought. We were yearning as people, as a community, as a nation for relief from that drought.

It’s not quite like that here in Armidale today and yet, we yearn too. We yearn for relief—from the continual overcast skies and above average rainfall; from the demands of the lead-up to Christmas and our busy lives; from the uncertainty of a world economy in turmoil and the threatening results of climate change. We want things to change. We want some relief.

The people to whom the passage in Isaiah we read today is aimed were also yearning for relief; and they were yearning for the fulfilment of a promise. Isaiah describes a regime of justice promised to the people of Israel in the Torah, the first 5 books of our Old Testament, the so-called books of Moses. Isaiah describes a community who engages in the practice of Jubilee—a just economic situation where the poor were never to be left bereft for generation after generation.

This passage comes to us from the part of the book of Isaiah that scholars call “Third Isaiah”. The people of Israel are back in Judah again; but the hope of the justice and peace of the promised land has once again been dashed. Stan Duncan, the chair of the Jubilee Justice Network of the United Church of Christ Massuchusetts Conference in the US writes:

The immediate occasion of the writing of this particular poem is an economic crisis brought about by the financial dealings of the wealthy returnees who used their status and wealth to grab more land and income from both their deported brothers and sisters and from those who had been left behind. They used their economic and class power to influence the application of tax and finance laws of the emerging nation to their advantage, causing huge increases in their own incomes, but also tremendous poverty in others. For example, they would make agricultural start-up loans during times of drought at exorbitant rates, which violated the Jubilee laws of Leviticus 25 and Deuteronomy 15, but which was allowed because they could buy off courts and lawmakers in case anyone complained. If the poor borrower was not able to pay the entire amount in one year, the next year the unpaid portion would be rolled over into a second loan, thus doubling the interest rate. After two or three years of doubling and quadrupling the interests, the poor farmer was effectively bankrupt and had to give up his farm and often his freedom to the loaner. (http://jubileejusticetaskforce.blogspot.com/)

You would have thought that the people would have learnt after their period of captivity in Babylon which Second Isaiah interpreted as punishment from God for the sins of the people. (Remember last week’s passage and God’s promise of comfort because the people had been punished enough!) But no! The hope of God’s realm has been violated again by those who are greedy and ruthless.

In a week when we have seen the nations of the European union trying to work out how they stand together or apart in the face of the economic crisis of nations like Greece, Italy and Spain; in a week when we have seen the 4 major banks in Australia have to be challenged to pass on an official interest rate cut to ordinary borrowers; in a year where we have seen the haggling over a resources tax be dominated by the voices of large multinational companies—what does this passage have to say about where we’re at now? Where is our dream of God’s realm in our world now? What is it that we can hope for; or have our hopes been dashed too?

And yet, this passage in Isaiah is not one of despair, it is one of hope. The prophet still proclaims the hope of a just world in the face of the injustice that engulfs a re-emerging nation: “The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me… The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me… [God] has sent me to bring good news” (Isaiah 61:1).

And this good news is for those in need of it most—those who are despairing; those who are prisoners; those who have lost their land; those who mourn for what has been lost. The “year of the Lord’s favour” is the Jubilee year when justice will be done; the land of the people restored to its rightful holders; and a time for the earth to rest. That is the vision not just of Isaiah but of the Law, the Torah, and the book of Leviticus—but as far as we can tell, it has never ever been celebrated—at least not by a whole nation or community—it is just a promise; it is still a dream; it is only or at best or at least, a hope—the hope of justice, peace and freedom for the whole Creation.

The people in Judah are being asked not to expect that they should have already found liberation—not to regret what hasn’t been done by the original returnees. They are being asked to expect that they are the ones being called to work for the promise now.

“So, you expected a land of milk and honey; but that doesn’t come without work. It doesn’t come without attention to that which God has called us. It doesn’t happen simply because we yearn for it to happen. You have to be the ones to do the right thing and to make sure the right things are done.”

Now those with good memories will recall that the words of Isaiah are not just found in Isaiah, they are also placed in the mouth of Jesus reading the scriptures in the synagogue in Nazareth in the Gospel of Luke: “The spirit of the Lord is upon me… [God] has sent me to bring good news.” (Luke 4:18) For at the time of Jesus, the people are still waiting for that just world; and probably still looking for others to bring it about too.

So is that what we are doing today also? Waiting for that just world and for others to bring it about; hoping that governments and nations and communities and companies and people will do the right thing when we already know that human beings have never been very good at acting in and for the common good or working for the dream of justice, especially when that means “just us” might miss out on something that we understand to be our right, or our deserving, or at least what we want very, very much.

Isaiah challenges us again to look around at our world; and not just simply to yearn for justice; but to work for it—never, ever giving up the hope of the promise of God’s realm.

O God, we gather at your waters, as a hot and bothered crowd
gathers on the beach on a sweltering, summer day.
O God, we drink at your fountain,
as a parched dog laps at the fresh,
running water of a bush creek.
O God, we await your refreshment,
as a tired worker watches for the change of shift.
Quench our thirst, satisfy our longings.
May we be refreshed and restored in you;
and teach us where to find the bucket and how to carry it
so that we might draw that water for those who most need it.