Thirsty

Sermon for Sunday, October 4

Luke 14:1-6

What are you thirsty for?

Water is an essential element of life. Scientists tell us that our bodies are up to 60% water, and our brain and heart are each almost three quarters water. We have been told that we should drink eight eight-ounce glasses of water every day, although our actual hydration needs are even higher than that. Nutritionists are beginning to sound like the old Sprite advertisements when they tell us how to stay hydrated: “obey your thirst.” Desire and inclination are often a good guide for how to get what we need, but sometimes they can get disordered. That is a problem that Jesus encounters in today’s Gospel story.

This story contains the only biblical example of a medical condition called dropsy; today we refer to it as edema. Dropsy is characterized by the retention of water in the body, usually resulting in swelling in the limbs or torso. It can be a symptom of a number of serious underlying conditions, some of which are fatal. The interesting thing about dropsical patients is that, though they have a surplus of water inside their bodies, very little of that water is where the body needs it to be,  and so the patient suffers from an unquenchable thirst. If they remain untreated, they will drink until their organs burst, and they will die. Their bodies hold onto water, that precious and necessary resource, but because they will not use it, it destroys them.

Ancient Greek authors saw dropsy as a metaphor for the effect that wealth can have on the soul. Just like water, money is an essential part of life. Just imagine trying to live without any money, and you will see what I mean. We have to have it, and we know we ought to save it. Some of us enjoy getting our bank statements at the end of the month and seeing that number in the savings account or our retirement climb higher and higher. Others of us are more energized looking at the things our money can buy us: toys, new cars, symbols of status and power, meals out on the town, or nice vacations. Still others value money because of the security and peace of mind it brings. Money makes the world go ‘round, after all. But, I ask you, how much is enough?

At his wealthiest, Oil Barron John D. Rockefeller’s personal wealth accounted for %1 of the American economy. If anybody ever had enough money, it was Rockefeller. But a journalist asked him one time how much money he thought he needed to be happy. How much does it take to satisfy your thirst for wealth? And he said, “One dollar more.” That type of obsession with money will never lead you to satisfaction, and the stories we tell about the love of money caution us against seeking it above all else. In movies and stories, a person finds success and gains friends and romance because of what they can provide. But when we base our lives and our relationships on that, it always winds up the same way. We lose the relationships in the quest for more, more, more. Our thirst for more ultimately destroys us. The problem with the quest for wealth is that the thing we are holding onto begins to take hold of us. Like the man with dropsy, our thirst to consume begins to consume us.

The Pharisees in Luke’s gospel are also holding onto something necessary, but allowing it to hold onto them in harmful ways. Their Sabbath requirements and religious expectations have roots in the good and beautiful commands of God. In the Old Testament, God commands people to rest from work one day a week because God rested on the Seventh Day. But the Pharisees and their law scholars spent so much time defining what work is that they made it almost impossible to do anything, even anything helpful, on the Sabbath. You couldn’t take medicine on the Sabbath because all the medicines they had required you to grind up herbs, and grinding was considered work. So it’s too bad if you have a migraine— you are supposed to rest. Never mind that in order to rest, sometimes a body needs relief from its ailments.

I’ll confess I myself stoop to judgmental thinking about what people do on Sunday. When I was in college I used to ride a church van from Jefferson City to Knoxville, Tennessee to go Sunday School and worship. As I watched out the window, I always saw folks playing golf, and proudly I would think to myself, “I guess they’re not going to church today. Still when I see someone mowing their grass I kind of sharply inhale through my nose, which is my way of going “hmmm.” But here’s the thing; we don’t know what’s going on with people we drive by. Even 15 years ago when I was in college, churches were meeting at all sorts of times besides 11:00 am. And maybe that person who is mowing their grass on Sunday works six days a week otherwise. Or maybe the only way that they can rest is to get on the mower.

The problem with religious rules of every kind is that we focus on them and lose sight of the human needs. We say, folks need to dress nicer for church, and it means that some folks aren’t comfortable with their wardrobe. A fellow minister shared with me that he has terrible arthritis that sometimes leads to pain and inflammation in his back and neck. He struggles to wear a neck tie because the discomfort makes it hard for him to preach. But his church took a long time to get used to the pastor not wearing a tie. We complain about disruptions to our worship on the part of children or people gripped by mental illness. I tell you, I’d rather have them here. Are we willing to let go of of the expectations and traditions that hold onto us if it means that we can have them here?

One scholar pointed out that one of the key functions of the Pharisees’ sabbath practices was to keep their place in the social order. If these are the rules, that puts me above the people who can’t keep them—the sick who needed healing, the poor who needed to get by. In the next verses after what we just read, Jesus scolds the Pharisees at the dinner party for seeking places of honor. They are getting too big for their britches, and it will lead to their falling. Here, though, he points out their hypocrisy: if their ox falls into a well, they won’t suffer an economic loss to keep their Sabbath restrictions. They will rescue their beast of burden on the Sabbath; but again they won’t allow him to set this man, captive to water, free from his condition.

What is holding onto you this morning? Is it addiction, is it a quest for wealth? Is it religious rules and regulations? Is it the weight of tradition? Whatever it is, Jesus wants to free you from it. Last week, Jesus told the bent over woman, “You are set free.” This week, Luke tells us that Jesus set the man with dropsy free. This is what Jesus came to do; Jesus came to set the captives free. For the poor, the sick, the addicted, their chains are obvious. But for the wealthy and the religious, often we feel like the freedom that Jesus offers us will mean a loss of privilege or position. What’s holding onto you this morning? May Jesus help you see and name the chains. And may he break them one by one. And may you go free.