Drought, caused by an extended lack of rain, is nothing new in human history. Civilizations have crumbled to dust because of drought, among them, the Mayan and Ming civilizations and modern Syria. In our own land, the 1930s, 50s, 80s and our current period have known unrelenting drought. Today, Lake Mead and Lake Powell that serve the water needs of 40 million Americans in the West have just hit their record lows. The fragile balance that ecologists identify between the atmosphere and earth has become unbalanced.
As a result of the drought, the economy will be greatly affected. Fires will continue to scorch the land. And all of us feel helpless to produce rain, the one thing that undoes drought.
So, we wait, use our water carefully, pray, swelter, advocate for and put into place strong, consistent actions on behalf of saving the earth.
Drought is certainly its own reality, but it is also a symbol of the inner life, our spiritual life at times of crisis. Drought is a symbol of human vulnerability and ultimately our dependence on God. In Psalm 63, the psalmist cries out “my soul thirsts like the earth, parched, lifeless and without water” and in Psalm 143, “My soul thirsts for you like a parched land.”
Drought, in the Hebrew Scriptures, is sometimes a symbol of the quality of the relationship between God and the people. Rain is a gift given to show God’s closeness to those who have remained faithful. Rain is a symbol of God’s promise. “I, God, will give you rain in due season” (Lev.26). “May my instruction soak in like rain” (Deut.32) and in Hosea 6.3, we pray “Come down to us like rain.” Scripture names the reality of our own world and lives. Both need rain to live and grow.
When our inner being is restless, when growth seems not only lacking but nearly impossible, we finally know the classic spiritual meaning of being in “the desert.” This is the time to plunge into faith and hope that things will change, and we have to commit ourselves to making that change happen to the extent we can. Growth will come again after disaster. The rain will fall and our lives will bear fruit.
In times of drought in our land, we are asked to be gentle with the earth, careful of the water we do have, good stewards of a suffering creation.
In our personal droughts we are asked for no less.
~Sister Joan Sobala
