Water from the Rock

Change can be uncomfortable. We are in a moment of change, right now: our state, our country, and indeed the whole world is trying to adapt the health crisis surrounding the corona virus. Maybe you are convinced of the seriousness of this crisis, or maybe you think things have been overblown, or maybe you’re just sick of hearing about it. But we can all agree that life is a little uncomfortable right now.

There is no doubt we are also in a moment of change in our church. I shared with you before Mass the decree by Bishop Taylor mandating some serious changes to how we will practice our faith in the coming weeks. Like many of you, I feel at a loss; what do we do now? We haven’t had to resort to measures like this in more than a hundred years. It feels frightening and disorienting.

In today’s first reading, the Israelites are also frightened and disoriented. They were afraid for their lives, in fact – not because of a virus, but because of thirst. Their sojourn in the desert was taking its toll. Notice though how they reacted – they grumbled against Moses, and they doubted the Lord. They asked, “Is the Lord in our midst or not?” They were so desperately bewildered that they even began thinking it would be better to be back in slavery in Egypt. Madness! In turmoil, sometimes we seek comfort in all of the wrong places.

The upcoming changes in our church schedule may leave us feeling much like the Israelites in the desert. While we should rightly feel sorrowful at what we will lack for a time, we also need to resist giving in to grumbling and distrust, as the Israelites did. There may well be a temptation for us find consolation in things apart from God – temptations to fear and panic, to take comfort in certain vices or worldly pleasures, to think “Welp, I’m on my own now, I got to make do for myself.” These thoughts are not from God!

We don’t know what the future holds. But the Lord will never stop providing for us – we do know that, just from the reading from Exodus. God commands Moses to strike the rock and so brings forth water for the people. This even has a spiritual significance deeper than just satisfying thirsty Israelites. Beginning with St. Paul (1 Cor 10:4), the Church has long understood this episode as a foreshadowing of our redemption: Jesus, the New Moses, is also the Rock which is struck on behalf of the people, whose suffering and death has brought forth the living water of the Holy Spirit to quench the dryness of God’s people. In other words, the Lord’s living water is his grace, his own life and love shared with us, and nothing earthly can take that gift away.

Nicolas Poussin, Moses Striking Water from the Rock (1649)

Yes, for a while we will not be able to partake of some of the ways we most commonly receive the Lord’s grace: by being present at Mass, by receiving the Eucharist, by gathering together as a parish community. But I think amid these changes, the Lord is inviting us to enter into Lent in a new way – to experience the temporary lack of what we so often take for granted, to allow ourselves to hunger and thirst for him in a new way, a way that helps us appreciate more fully the spiritual gifts we so often take for granted. And amid our hunger and thirst, we will see that he will still provide for us – the Lord’s living water will flow to us in new ways.

Perhaps we will discover anew the grace and the power of the sacrament of reconciliation, which I’ll be offering much more frequently in these next several weeks. Perhaps it will come in a new devotion to Eucharistic Adoration, which we will have on Wednesdays, Fridays, and on Sundays when we would usually have been here in church. Perhaps the Lord will nourish our spirits in some other way: by helping us to care for the poor, to check in on the sick and the elderly, to unite ourselves in spirit with those suffering in our state, our nation, and our world. I’ll continue to offer the Mass here in our parish church, and I invite you to join spiritually with me as I do so, for the protection of health of all of our friends and loved ones, for an end to this crisis, and for a deeper love in the end for the great spiritual blessings of the sacraments that we often take for granted.

Friends, in this moment of great change and disruption, perhaps Jesus is looking for a display of faith from us, just like the woman at the well. With her, let us ask the Lord, “Sir, give me this water, that I may not be thirsty!” And let’s not doubt him, or look for comfort in the wrong places. Instead, let us renew our confidence in God and our faith that he will provide for us from Christ the Rock, for his grace is certainly still present in our midst. While this desert experience will be challenging, the Lord will see us through, and even more importantly he will continue to nourish us all the while, quenching our thirst with his living water.