Falling leaves get me thinking sometimes about loss, grief, and memory. Not all the time, but at times, and powerfully. Recently I watched as the wind tore golden aspen leaves from their branches and scattered them like a mosaic on the bedrock of Pincushion. The contrast of fragile temporary leaves and the permanence of granite brought a favorite Bible passage to mind. And so I wish to bring to this column a biblical passage that has come to mean a great deal to me in the past two decades.
Isaiah 51: 1-3 “Hearken to me, you who look for deliverance, you who seek the Lord; look to the rock from which you were hewn, and to the quarry from which you were dug. Look to Abraham your father and to Sarah who bore you; for when he was but one, I called him, and I blessed him and made him many. For the Lord will comfort Zion; he will comfort all her waste places, and will make her wilderness like Eden, her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the voice of song.”
Of course Isaiah was pointing back into the history of his people in order to awaken a strengthening memory and a comforting promise. I believe it is safe to assume that he wanted to strengthen the resolve of the people of God as they moved into the unknown territory of their future, after having survived the disasters of occupation and exile. In this way the passage demonstrates the manner in which memory has the power to comfort the exile and to hold a pilgrim on course. Memory becomes that voice of encouragement out of the past. As the prophet puts it in Isaiah 30:21, “And when you turn to the left or turn to the right, your ears shall hear a word behind you saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”
The passage from Isaiah 51 functions for me, and I believe has functioned for many down through the millennia, as a voice from behind saying, ‘This is the way.'” But what attracts me most to this passage is the imagery; memory is likened to a visit to the quarry. When I read Isaiah 51 and consider the ‘rock from which I was hewn’ I think of a number of quarries; first I think of my family, my church, my Lord. I think back to certain events which shape my outlook and give me a place to stand.
What is the rock, to which Isaiah was referring for you? From which quarry were you dug? Might it not include the parents and grandparents of your faith? You may name friends along the way who have been a foundation for your spiritual life. You will name the mentors and sponsors who have become spiritual parents to you. It is whoever has guided you and formed you and shaped your values and your faith. Look to the rock from which you were hewn. Each of us is able to make this personal inventory and awaken memories of great significance. But we also are aware that we need even firmer footing than these.
On the North Shore of Lake Superior we don’t see too many quarries, but we see rocks all the time. We see the Canadian Shield, the Sawtooth Mountains, the stretches of granite, thomsonite, and Ely greenstone. When we stand upon the foundation of the ancient Laurentian mountain range, we can think about this text from Isaiah, and we can recognize a spiritual foundation deeper and stronger than any can imagine laid by the Almighty Lord.
In a manner of speaking our families and our churches have been quarries which provided wisdom, character, faith, and determination. But if they have done their job faithfully, they have directed us toward the deeper foundation and greater strength to which Isaiah referred.
This Biblical passage begins with an admonishment to delve into sacred memory, which is older than our loss or failures. “Look to the rock from which you were hewn.” The passage ends significantly with a promise that there will be heard “thanksgiving and a voice of song.” There is a future, and the prophet is proclaiming that in God the future looks good. The future before the exiles looked bleak. The future surrounding our nation and our world at times has appeared precarious. But regardless of the peril, the memory of God’s promise remains, and the joy of communion with the Lord prevails. Such hope becomes an enduring blessing. When we stand on that rock of God’s enduring grace we become a blessing to our churches and our community.
In this season of falling leaves join me back at your quarry, find a convenient outcropping of rock on the ridge, or find a seat on Artist Point and take some time in grateful prayer. You will find strength and comfort in the Lord.
Look to the rock from which you were hewn.
Give thanks and rejoice.
Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This week our contributor is Reverend Mark Ditmanson of Bethlehem Lutheran Church in Grand Marais.
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