© Rev. Lance Carrithers, all rights reserved.  Permission required to copy any portion of this message by any means. Email for permission: lance@firstchurchdc.com

"Just a Trickle"

Ezekiel 47:1-9

Ezekiel is some kind of prophet.  He sees things.  And what he sees, says something to the people of God.  Says something to us.  Says something about the character of God, the nature of God.

You know Ezekiel.  Some of his visions are quite memorable.  The valley of dry bones, remember?  Bones rattling in the dust, collecting together, then covered with new flesh, and finally the breath of God so that the dry bones live!   Ezekiel tells us what he sees, and we see it too, and we know, God can make what is dead and dusty alive again.

Ezekiel saw another vision.   Can we see it?  Do we know what it means?

Ezekiel saw a trickle of water, bubbling out from the south side of the Temple in Jerusalem.  Trickling out and flowing east.  The trickle becomes a stream, ankle deep.  Further out, the stream becomes a river, knee deep.  Then waist deep.  Finally a river so deep, and so broad, one cannot cross it.  

And as the river flows from the Temple of God, it empties into the stagnant, salt sea, and renews it, refreshes it.  So that all that the water touches will have life!

Can you see it?   Do you know what it means? 

It all began with a trickle of water.  I was 21 years old, kneeling at the communion rail of the Hugoton United Methodist Church.  I had come to the rail for all the wrong reasons—thinking baptism was about church membership and that church membership was good for business.

The minister dipped his hands into the font, scooped water into his hands, and laid his hands on my help.  A few drops of water, running through my hair and onto my scalp, then, in a trickle down behind my ear.   The amount of water was nearly insignificant, yet even today remembering it brings back a shiver along my spine.

            I wondered if Ezekiel thought much about the trickle of water that flowed out from the Temple.  A being from heaven beckons him to journey eastward, to see what becomes of this trickle.

            They travel 1000 cubits.  Just a bit more than a quarter of a mile.  Here, the trickle of water has become a small stream.  Ankle deep.   Just a brook bubbling over the rocks, enough water in which to splash and play.

            I remember the waters as they began to gather into a stream.  I stepped into the stream and got my feet wet.  The water was safe, then.  Sponsoring a youth group.  Participating in a Sunday school class.  Writing the occasional check to the church.  The collection plate would come round each Sunday, and I felt an obligation that if I was going to be a member of the church, I should put “something in.”  So, if there was a bit left at the end of the month, I would satisfy my conscience and drop in my offering.

Do you remember when the water became a stream, ankle deep?

Ezekiel follows his companion another quarter of a mile along the river bank.  Here the water is knee deep.   A creek, with a current that pushes gently against Ezekiel’s legs.

I remember when the water became knee deep.   Wading out into the water, my movement is somewhat changed, restricted by the water’s depth.   No longer going to church only because I thought I ought to, but because a desire was growing inside of me—to gather and be with others who worshipped God.   Not sure of what forces were at work shaping me, nudging me, I came to the conclusion that it was no longer adequate to give whatever I had left or available on the Sundays I was in church.  Kristi and I made a choice to begin giving from each pay check, paying our gift to the church as we would any other bill or obligation.  Amazingly, I remember that though we were giving far more than we ever had, we were never left short for our own needs.

Do you remember when the water came to your knees? 

Ezekiel moves yet another quarter of a mile east, and now the water is waist deep.  A river.  A current that makes you aware that you could be easily carried away in the current.   Can you see it?

As the water flowed, I enrolled in Disciple Bible Study.  I became a lay speaker in our congregation.  Ever more involved, my hunger to know more of the sacred stories and to serve God became greater.  I became employed part time as a lay worker in the church.  All of which led me to consider my own calling into professional ministry.  Somehow, before I knew it, I was waist deep in the rolling river and unsure if I would be able to keep my footing.  It’s a moment that is both exhilarating and frightening at the same time.  Standing in the river, the steady force of the current threatening to carry you away.  I came home from Disciple study one evening, and told Kristi and I wanted us to begin to tithe.

Have you stood in the water to your waist?  Do you remember?

            Ezekiel walks now to a point, more than a mile from the Temple, and looks at the river before him.  Now a mighty artery, wide and deep.   If you enter this river, there will be no crossing to the bank, nor returning to the place from which you entered.  The river is not a river for crossing; it is a river in which to swim. 

            God’s call swept me and my family away from our home.  Carried us to seminary, and the pastorate.   The river’s current continues to carry us, allowing us to witness all that the river touches, where life is made new.   I see the river that not only has refreshed the stagnant pool of my own life, but brings life to every dead sea.   Our giving has been transformed as well.  Once it was the trickle of leftovers dropped in when it was convenient.  Then a stream of giving that we felt obligated to give because, after all, there were bills to pay.  But then a river, a response to the grace God had shown us, a tithe, simply a portion of all that God had given us.  And finally, the faith giving that does not stop at the tithe, but rather begins there.  Moving forward, where God’s grace brings life, and breeds generosity.    I don’t know where the river will take me, finally.   But as I surrender to it, I know that all along this river is life.  Along the banks of the river is life.    Every where the river flows, there is life.  All that it touches is renewed and refreshed.

            Have you been carried in the current of the flowing waters?  Have you seen the life-giving grace of God flowing wide and deep, a great river of life?  Ezekiel saw it.  The living waters, flowing from the Temple, bringing life to all that it touches.    Broad and deep.  Unimaginable grace from God.

            The flow of God’s mercy and God’s blessings and God’s grace is steady and abundant.  If we but surrender to the current of the living waters, we will be filled with life.  We will be renewed.  All that is stagnant will be made fresh.  

            As we join together in singing our final hymn, I surrender all, I would ask those of you who have commitment cards for Living Waters and Foundations of Faith to bring them forward to the altar.  And to select a stone from the living waters running below the altar, as a remembrance—calling each of us to remember God’s grace, as well as remember our own covenant and promise that each card represents.