11th Hour Preacher Party: A Rich Feast of Thirsty Figs

Back in my college days my roommate received a package from her aunt in Texas. Inside was a huge bag of homegrown figs - the most delicious figs I have ever had!

We ate those figs right from the bag, savoring every last bite.

I'm sure she only shared some of them with us, her roommates, and tucked a few away just for herself. They were after all a gift from her aunt, she was entitled to savor them in a special way.

I always remember my friend and her aunt's figs, whenever figs come up in the Gospel reading. I think of rich sweet fruit, so rich that a little bite satisfies any sweet tooth. Like the sweetness of God's grace - abundant and immensely satisfying.

The reading from Isiah offers another perspective, the paradox of God who is both abundantly known and yet abundantly mysterious:

The preacher who comes to this text hears the story of the prophet’s appraisal of the neglect and injustice endured by a community of exiles in Babylon. The image presented here summons the preacher to do some thinking about the doctrine of God. A personal God is depicted at the outset of this passage, one in step with humanity’s greatest needs, the solitary source for human renewal and the restoration of life. However, the developing narrative reveals another side of God. In unequivocal expression Second Isaiah insists that mystery, not intellectual comprehension, reflects the divine life. The prophet holds two realities in paradoxical tension: “Come, thirsty one,” and “My ways are not your ways, and my thoughts not your thoughts.” Language of an elaborate banquet is heard in the opening words of invitation, words spoken over against cultural excesses that never satisfy. (Feasting on the Word Year C Lent through Eastertide, Lent 3, Isaiah )

So, where are you going this week with your sermon? Do you have thoughts about thirst? About what it means to either have too little water or too much water...or, have just enough water to satisfy? Or what about figs and what it means to tend to trees? Pruning? Or offering nourishment?Or a banquet of grace, like a rich feast of thirsty figs?

I have been thinking a lot about my sermon this week. But that's all I've been able to do - think about it...in a cloudy-headed kind of way. So, to make my way through the thick fog of my over tired brain

I am offering plenty of coffee. And fresh fruit. Pull up a chair, grab a mug, have a fig, and let's talk. Or sit.

Regardless, it's the preacher party and we're here to party with you.

May your thirst be quenched.