"Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters."

Eight days ago, another massive earthquake rattled countless lives, this time in Chile. And in the aftermath of disaster, (water) bottles like this one became invaluable. For many in our companion synod, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Chile, right now, bottles like these are life. As often happens in large-scale disasters, countless survivors this week found themselves without access to essentials, lacking food and shelter and, most critically, lacking access to clean water. Devastation of the sort now seen in places like Chile and Haiti is hard for us to fathom when it is just a matter of steps to the nearest drinking fountain.

When we lived in California, disaster preparedness workshops tried to impress upon us just how quickly resources could run out. Officials projected that following a massive quake or uncontainable wildfire, even in a place like Los Angeles, it could very well take three days for aid to arrive from outside. We were urged to prepare for the possibility of several days without water, or electricity, or any means of communication. We were taught to calculate the number of gallons of water we should have on hand for each person, for when the 'Big One' hit. After one of those workshops, I started to gather items for a survival kit, but I never did complete the process. Despite the reality checks offered by occasional tremors, the idea of not having instant access to ATMs and credit, computers and cell phones, let alone food and water, remained abstract.

And yet for too many in Chili, in Haiti, and elsewhere around the globe today, the shortage of supplies needed for survival is a very real struggle. Those who can somehow manage to stay hydrated are better equipped to fend off infection, avoid illness, and simply withstand less-than-ideal living conditions while, parched bodies cry out, desperate for refreshment. In many places, people scour the streets for sustenance, wanting for water to hold them and their loved ones over until the current crisis subsides, and order is restored. Of course, for some, the crisis is ongoing, with no end in sight.

And, sadly, there are those who choose to capitalize on the very real needs of others in times of crisis. Kate Lawler, one of the ELCA missionaries we here at St. Thomas support, shared in an update to our Indiana-Kentucky synod last week that, standing amidst the chaos of crumbled buildings in Chile, were people selling bottles of water for five times the usual cost.

Well, today, in Chile, our partners in mission, whose church buildings are still standing, proclaim the good news to those who gather: "Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters...Come buy wine and milk without money, without price."

Our brothers and sisters proclaim this good news not only in word, but also in deed. Throughout this past week church buildings have been opened to families who are in need of shelter. The body of Christ has been a home, in both a literal and figurative sense, to many this week. And in the weeks ahead, our synod will continue to support our companions in Chile, to enable them to continue to provide for those whose homes are now uninhabitable.

"Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters."

These words of invitation, first uttered by the prophet Isaiah, were originally intended for another people who had been displaced from their homes. A segment of the Israelite society had been ousted from their native land, forced to relocate in Babylon. While living there, the exiles were second-class citizens. They were peasants subject to the whims and ways of a foreign ruler, namely an emperor who exploited the needs of newcomers, setting taxes to further his own financial gain. Lacking power and privilege, the people in exile had no choice but to pay hefty sums for essential items like food and drink. And so, over time, the experience of exile left God's people depleted of resources, tangible and otherwise. The displaced Israelites were left yearning to return home, longing for autonomy, and thirsting for righteousness.

Through the prophet Isaiah, God issues an invitation to a weary people. God calls to the exiles, saying, 'Turn to me. Trust in me. Find a home in me and in my promise. For even as you suffer, I continue to hold you in the covenant I made with your ancestors.' The words that fell from Isaiah's lips reassured God's people of that time and place, giving them reason to go on, something to sustain them while they waited for tomorrow.

"Everyone who thirsts come to the waters...Come and listen that you may live"

Our brothers and sisters proclaim this good news not only in word, but also in deed. Throughout this past week church buildings have been opened to families who are in need of shelter. The body of Christ has been a home, in both a literal and figurative sense, to many this week. And in the weeks ahead, our synod will continue to support our companions in Chile, to enable them to continue to provide for those whose homes are now uninhabitable.

"Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters."

These words of invitation, first uttered by the prophet Isaiah, were originally intended for another people who had been displaced from their homes. A segment of the Israelite society had been ousted from their native land, forced to relocate in Babylon. While living there, the exiles were second-class citizens. They were peasants subject to the whims and ways of a foreign ruler, namely an emperor who exploited the needs of newcomers, setting taxes to further his own financial gain. Lacking power and privilege, the people in exile had no choice but to pay hefty sums for essential items like food and drink. And so, over time, the experience of exile left God's people depleted of resources, tangible and otherwise. The displaced Israelites were left yearning to return home, longing for autonomy, and thirsting for righteousness.

Through the prophet Isaiah, God issues an invitation to a weary people. God calls to the exiles, saying, 'Turn to me. Trust in me. Find a home in me and in my promise. For even as you suffer, I continue to hold you in the covenant I made with your ancestors.' The words that fell from Isaiah's lips reassured God's people of that time and place, giving them reason to go on, something to sustain them while they waited for tomorrow.

"Everyone who thirsts come to the watersCome and listen that you may live"

Today the words of the prophet Isaiah call out to us, as well. For even if our bodies are well hydrated, even if we have roofs over our heads, even if we have plenty of food to go around the table, still, we thirst. We thirst. We hunger. We, too, long for home.

Each of us has needs that are unique, and yet as human beings, we do have some cravings in common. We all thirst for a sense of meaning and purposewe all hunger for relationship, and a sense of connection. We all yearn for community, for a place to belong, a place where we can be at home. Our needs this day are undeniably different from those of our sisters and brothers Chile and Haiti, but our needs are nevertheless of concern to a God whose vision for creation is nothing less that complete wholeness, each creature living in harmony with God and in concert with the rest of God's creation.

So often, it seems that we in the church are reluctant to acknowledge the needs we ourselves have, needs that are real, if not tangible. So often we hear a brother or sister, perhaps even ourselves saying, 'Well, yes, I am hurting...but there are so many others whose struggles are greater than my own.' The thinking of some in the church seems to be that certain types of pain matter more to God than others, or perhaps that God couldn't possibly care about social or emotional or spiritual sorts of pains when there are people dying.

While it may seem sensitive to completely set aside our own needs, it is not scriptural to ignore our own brokenness. Spiritual, emotional and social needs may be less urgent, but to God they are no less important. You and I are called by virtue of our baptismal covenant, not only to minister to others, but also to lay our own woundedness before God. Of course, doing this ultimately means allowing others to minister to us and allowing ourselves to become uncomfortably vulnerable. Yet, in baptism, we are called to trust that God is God enough to handle it all. We are called to trust that God will empty every last tomb in our lives and in our neighbors' lives. We are called to trust that God cares for and is active throughout all of creation each and every day.

"Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters...Come and listen, that you may live."

Isaiah reminds us that God's word is for weary travelers from all walks of life. God reaches out to fill all who are desperate for food and drink. God gives direction to any who long for meaning and purpose. God reaches out to all who seek connection. God becomes a hearth to all who yearn for home. To every last creature, God's word rings out, 'Come Come to the waters...Come, be restored...Come, encounter healing power in the waters of new life.' God's word falls over us like rain. And God's promise is once again poured out on us-- that in Christ, all of creation has a home, a lifeline to which we can cling while we wait for healing to happen.

God is, right now, bringing new life to sisters and brothers in Chile and elsewhere around the globe, even as God is acting in our own lives. And our scripture reminds us today that whenever any part of creation is restored, all of creation is made new. When exiles in any land return home, the whole creation rejoices.

And so it is the invitation of our God this day to come to the waters, and to join in the celebration. You and I are invited to embrace God's reality, to buy into God's vision of total restoration. We are called to trust that God is capable of multitasking even when we are not.

We live out the calling of our baptism by allowing the love of God to renew our own lives even as God uses our lives to renew the rest of creation. Today you and I walk hand in hand with our sisters and brothers in Chile. Together, we respond to the cries of creation. Together, we place our hope in the one who provides so generously. Together, we lay our trust at the foot of the one whose healing comes at no cost to us.