Delivered at Northwest Unitarian Universalist Congregation on August 14, 2016
I have a little water story to tell. And, while I’m telling it, I’d like for us to sing together a water song to the tune of I’ve Got Peace Like a River. You’ll find the verses in your Order of Service.
Tom is going to lead us in singing the first verse now and invite you to follow his lead after that.
I’ve got peace like a river
I’ve got peace like a river
I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.
I’ve got peace like a river
I’ve got peace like a river
I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.
One day last week, the light outside went from sunshine yellow to pale white. And, then it got dark . . . very dark . . . too dark for 2:30 in the afternoon. The wind picked up. The tops of the trees started to rustle. Tall pine trunks started to sway. I knew we were in for another summer afternoon shower.
I ran outside to place a Mason jar on my back porch. I wanted to collect some of the cool, fresh rain pouring from the sky.
I’ve got joy like the raindrops
I’ve got joy like the raindrops
I’ve got joy like the raindrops in my soul
I’ve got joy like the raindrops
I’ve got joy like the raindrops
I’ve got joy like the raindrops in my soul
Rain. It’s hard to believe that today’s rain is the same water that dinosaurs once guzzled. But it is. According to the National Geographic Society, the amount of moisture on the Earth has not changed. The water that dinosaurs drank millions of years ago is the same water that falls as rain today. Will there be enough freshwater for our more crowded world? That depends on only one thing, of course – human behavior.
I was reminded of this when I joined my neighbor Jim for an early-morning walk in our neighborhood nature preserve, which is located just a few blocks away from our homes. Jim had been on walk there the day before. There’s a creek that runs through the middle of the nature preserve. And, Jim had noticed thick, red mud in the creek.
Possibly runoff from a nearby home renovation? He didn’t know, and so I offered to explore it with him.
I’ve got creeks that run and babble
I’ve got creeks that run and babble
I’ve got creeks that run and babble in my soul
I’ve got creeks that run and babble
I’ve got creeks that run and babble
I’ve got creeks that run and babble in my soul
Jim and I set out for the nature preserve and the creek with our dogs. We had had another one of those torrential summer downpours the day before, so the dirt trails were slick that morning. Of course, the minute my dog Miles figured out that we were heading to the nature preserve for a W-A-L-K (we spell that word in our house), he pulled me forward. We lunged towards the entrance to the woods and down the trail’s steep descent to the creek valley behind Jim and his dogs Josie and Murphy.
We let the dogs off leash so that we wouldn’t get dragged through the mud, and we made our way to the water. The first thing I noticed were that the rocks in the creek were completely covered with Georgia red clay. The second thing I noticed were the dead fish. Small carp were lying along on the water’s edge, their white bellies turned up to the sun.
It was startling to see them scattered along the rocks. What besides dirt had gotten into the water?
I’ve got fish and all things swimming
I’ve got fish and all things swimming
I’ve got fish and all things swimming in my soul.
I’ve got fish and all things swimming
I’ve got fish and all things swimming
I’ve got fish and all things swimming in my soul.
We continued to walk with the dogs down the creek to a section known as “the beach.” There is a sandy shore and the water is deep enough for dogs to swim in.
Miles took full advantage of that. Before I knew it, he ran down the dirt embankment and cannon-balled into the water below. I saw him swim by debris that was caught by the low tree branches that dipped into the water below – mostly plastic jugs and grocery bags.
The red mud had also made its way into this part of the creek, and I wondered about the quality of the water. What had happened? Was the water safe for Miles?
Was it safe for any of us?
I’ve got tears of pain and sorrow
I’ve got tears of pain and sorrow
I’ve got tears of pain and sorrow in my soul.
I’ve got tears of pain and sorrow
I’ve got tears of pain and sorrow
I’ve got tears of pain and sorrow in my soul.
Well, there is a bright side to this story . . .
I sent several e-mails later that morning to the City of Atlanta and the Chattahoochee Riverkeeper to report the problem. Jim followed up with another e-mail that had a map attached, showing the exact location of the section of the creek that had the sediment and fish kill.
To my surprise, the City called me back in less than an hour. The Chattahoochee Riverkeeper, a local water advocacy organization, dispatched an investigator that afternoon. And, they found the source of the dirt runoff. They said that they would test the creek water right away for bacteria and toxins. The City also planned to send a crew.
Of course, I hated that the creek had gotten polluted. But I knew I would have felt worse if I didn’t try to do something about it. And, I was inspired that others were eager to help the creek. As Barbara Kingsolver noted in this morning’s reading, while we often take Mother Water for granted, “humans understand in our bones that she is boss.”
I’ve got hope like a fountain
I’ve got hope like a fountain
I’ve got hope like a fountain in my soul.
I’ve got hope like a fountain
I’ve got hope like a fountain
I’ve got hope like a fountain in my soul.
And, so, as we gather back together at the beginning of a new program year, as we acknowledge once again water’s role in our lives and in the lives of all living things, let’s take this morning to appreciate this vital natural resource. And, let’s act in the days ahead as if we truly cherish it.
Clean, fresh water is not in abundance – less than 3 percent of our planet’s water is freshwater. And, most of that is inaccessible, still locked in frozen icecaps and glaciers. So, let’s not, in the words of Barbara Kingsolver, be too slow to give up on the myth of Earth’s infinite generosity. Let’s see where we might use less of this precious resource and where we might partner with others to advocate for its protection.
The water we drink today is the same water that quenched the thirst of dinosaurs that roamed our planet. That is an incredible thought. It invites me – perhaps all of us – to ponder Barbara Kingsolver’s question:
Who owns this water?
How can I call it mine when its fate
is to run through rivers and living bodies,
so many already and so many more to come?
It is an ancient, dazzling relic,
temporarily quarantined here in my glass,
waiting to return to its kind,
waiting to move a mountain.
It is the gold standard of biological currency,
and the good news is that we can conserve it
in countless ways.[ref]Barbara Kingsolver, “A Reflection on Fresh Water.”[/ref]
As we go from here, let us begin our year of spiritual growth and exploration by cherishing the water of life and all the beautiful life made possible by its presence.
May it be so. Amen.
May we love and cherish water
May we love and cherish water
May we love and cherish water in our souls.
May we love and cherish water
May we love and cherish water
May we love and cherish water in our souls.