A flowing spring whose waters never fail
In one way or another, every one of us works to remove oppression from our midst — the oppression of poverty, of addiction, of forced displacement, of loneliness, of apparent abandonment, of hostility. The promises of today’s first reading can give us hope and strength as we face the many challenges that go with this work: The “light shall rise for you in the darkness, and the gloom shall become for you like midday.”
There are times when the darkness and the gloom can be overwhelming, exacerbated by the “false accusation and malicious speech” that characterize so much public and private discourse. Isaiah assures us, however, that it’s through our very work of satisfying the afflicted that we will be renewed.
It may seem paradoxical that this sometimes difficult work can be its own source of strength. “We drink from our own wells,” the title of a book by Gustavo Gutiérrez, is both a caution and an encouragement. Our wells can go dry if we count only on our own efforts to fill them. Alone, our well is just a cistern, a container for a finite quantity that may run out or go stagnant. A true well, on the other hand, is filled from the abundance of God’s creation.
By nurturing our own relationship with Jesus, our well is fed by a spring whose life-giving water never fails. The Good News is that we can nurture this relationship precisely by encountering him in the poor and afflicted. When we see Christ in those we serve, the difficulties don’t necessarily go away, but the hope that is offered can begin to scatter the gloom. Like watered gardens, we can give, and be renewed, and give again.
May we let the Lord guide us always, and may we faithfully share the plenty he gives us, even — and especially — on parched land.
Deacon Frank Daggett is Director of Parish Social Ministry with Catholic Charities Maine.