Today’s scripture: Isaiah 15:1-9 (NRSV) (The Message) (KJV) What might God be saying to me?
My thoughts (John Seksay):
“Because Ar is laid waste in a night, Moab is undone;
Because Kir is laid waste in a night, Moab is undone…
The grass is withered, the new growth fails, the verdure is no more.”
When I go to the grocery store, I can sometimes forget the world is actually fragile. When I set a little cash aside for the unexpected, again I can temporarily forget that the world is still a fragile place. When life rolls along for a while without any severe bumps, I can be downright oblivious. Then real trouble manages to rear its ugly head.
There I am, parked in my favorite chair, bundled up in my most comfy pajamas, with one of my favorite munchies at hand. I turn on the news — and reality steps into the room. The screen is awash with Libya, Afghanistan, Somalia, Syria — streams of refugees flowing by land and sea. Thousands of souls for whom being alive today is no small wonder and no great pleasure. Food is uncertain, shelter is unpredictable, and clean, drinkable water a precious hope. They are on a brutal pilgrimage from an old way of life obliterated by constant violence to some strange place that merely observes their arrival with restrained distrust and growing resentment. Wherever they pause for the moment, strangers get to dictate their quality of life for all the essentials.
This is the oracular vision that was also in place for Moab long ago. The country has been overrun by enemies and the survivors have been forced to flee. But where do you run to when your home is destroyed and your country is demolished? You always struggle toward someplace that seems to offer safety!
But this message from Moab carries my spirit to the failed Viking settlements of Greenland centuries ago. There were cultural issues in this Christian community that gradually undermined the settlements. In the end, the Vikings were not able to surrender what wasn’t working in their traditional ways, or to learn new ways from the Inuit, who were there before them and still inhabit the area today. What could those pagan savages know that would be of importance to civilized Christians? The archaeological evidence is clear: As the critical issues went unaddressed (no native lumber for boats, marginal environment for traditional agriculture, etc.), the outlying settlements gradually imploded toward the best-equipped and stocked settlement. The most prosperous of this community won the dubious honor of being the last to starve to death as their blindness came home to roost. Failure to humbly and truthfully address the roots of a crisis will simply allow it to propagate, undermining ever-larger areas in a family, a community, a civilization.
“The grass is withered, the new growth fails, the verdure is no more.”
That is why the process of reflection and self-examination is so important. We need to look for the place where the trouble always starts — within ourselves. If I am to be my brother’s keeper, whom do I count as a brother? Are we being superficial in our relation to the physical world that sustains us? Do we believe leaders who suggest that problems elsewhere will not affect us if we simply hold them off at a distance?
I will not give pat answers to these questions, but I will offer a clue. It is old folk wisdom that it takes an entire village to raise a child — because, if the children fail, eventually the village fails. What kind of stewards should we be to avoid creating — or becoming — another Moab?
Thought for the day: When my needs are really met, do I automatically want more? When my cup is full, how much do I offer for the needs of others less fortunate? Am I counting my blessings like they were rights? God, help me make my actions right — no blight.
We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to get started, consider the suggestions on the How to Pray page.