Rain, Rain, Never Go Away

 

“Whenever this happens, my heart stops—

    I’m stunned, I can’t catch my breath.

Listen to it! Listen to his thunder,
    the rolling, rumbling thunder of his voice.
He lets loose his lightnings from horizon to horizon,
    lighting up the earth from pole to pole.
In their wake, the thunder echoes his voice,
    powerful and majestic.
He lets out all the stops, he holds nothing back.
    No one can mistake that voice—
His word thundering so wondrously,
    his mighty acts staggering our understanding.
He orders the snow, ‘Blanket the earth!’
    and the rain, ‘Soak the whole countryside!’
No one can escape the weather—it’s there.
    And no one can escape from God.

Job 37: 1-13 The Message (see below as well) 

Rain, rain, go away
Come again some other day
We want to go outside and play
Come again some other day

Traditional Nursery Rhyme

Back in 2010 about this time of the year, in fact, I attended a week-long seminar called Water and a Baptismal Life. It was held at Ghost Ranch a retreat and conference center set amid the red and yellow mesas of northern New Mexico and made famous through the paintings of Georgia O’Keeffe. She actually lived in a solitary house on the vast property in the 1940's when it was still a dude ranch for the rich and famous...but I digress...

The seminar was led by several exceptional eco-theologians including Larry Rasmussen, a patriarch of the movement. It was a thought-provoking week which occurred during a period of near drought conditions in that region.  By request I stayed in the retreat house several kilometres from the main centre and it turned out that the leaders, including the Rasmussens, were staying there as well. At one point Nyla Rasmussen was on the phone and was excited because there had been rainfall in Santa Fe, where they lived. Her rainbarrel would have been replenished and it was as though a baptismal font had been filled. 

This experience came to mind when I saw the forecast for our area which promised steady rain through this day. Our rain barrels are already full again from the overnight rain and I pray that we do get what is predicted, for our gardens, for the farms in our region, and if far enough afield for the forests which are burning. As weather and climate patterns become much more unpredictable and wildfires rage across the Canadian boreal forest, a massive carbon sink for the planet, I can't take precipitation in any season for granted.

There are lots of passages in scripture about the gift of water and its sacramental quality. I've mentioned beforfe that when we were in Israel in April we went to the presumed Jordan River baptismal site for Jesus, not far from the Dead Sea. It's a rather dreary spot, to be blunt, and some pilgrims were being baptized without immersing their heads because the murky water is so polluted. Ugh. 

I do love that the writer of the book of Job ascribes the hydrological cycle to the Creator, and celebrates God's might. Eugene Peterson does a great job of riffing on this passage in his version of the bible called The Message. What a mess, though, when humans "play God" altering the patterns which make all life possible in ways which may never be made right again.

For the moment, in this day, it is raining and will continue to rain, and for this I am grateful. May rain never go away, at least not permanently

Wild animals take shelter,
    crawling into their dens,
When blizzards roar out of the north
    and freezing rain crusts the land.
It’s God’s breath that forms the ice,
    it’s God’s breath that turns lakes and rivers solid.
And yes, it’s God who fills clouds with rainwater
    and hurls lightning from them every which way.
He puts them through their paces—first this way, then that—
    commands them to do what he says all over the world.
Whether for discipline or grace or extravagant love,
    he makes sure they make their mark.

                   Thunderstorm, Chama Valley, Ghost Ranch, New Mexico, 1937Ansel Adams