I am just finishing reading A Year in the Wilderness: Bearing Witness in the Boundary Waters, a book that has been sitting on my shelf since 2018. I met the author, Amy Freeman at a reading that is an account of the year that she and her husband Dave spent living in the Boundary Waters. The pictures themselves are worth the read! Amy and Dave spent the year in the BWCA to bring attention to the beloved natural resource that we have in northern Minnesota and the need to protect it. Throughout their year, they were both fed and challenged by the world in which they lived. 

The words of Isaiah 35 invite us to that place where God’s creation feeds us, both physically and spiritually. It also moves us forward to be part of valuing these resources and embracing the stewardship of these gifts. It struck how much of this happened to Amy and Dave in the Boundary Waters.

The Book of Isaiah is considered to be three parts, and thought to be written at three different time periods by three different authors. The first part, First Isaiah is Chapters 1-39 and written by the prophet Isaiah around 8 century BCE. This first part takes place before the Babylonian exile and is full of judgement and harsh images, but also prophecies of future restoration. 

While the first part of Isaiah invites the people of Judah to wrestle with the consequences of their sin and idolatry, things change in Chapter 35, which lays out a new vision. The Hebrew word for wilderness is Midbar, which would have recalled many images and stories for the people of Judah as they remembered their freedom from Egypt and the 40 years spent in the wilderness. However, Isaiah uses more than Midbar (wilderness) in his prophecy. He also uses the word tsiyah, which means drought, dry, parched, and a desert land. This image is much more desolate and dire. It creates the contrasts as the next verse tells of a “desert that rejoices and blossoms” (vs. 1b), personifying the joy of the world redeemed and recreated. 

Life from desolation and strength out of suffering are the promises that come with life giving images of healing and water in verses six and seven. Water was precious to the ancient world, as most people were dependent on agriculture to sustain them. To the north in Israel, there were a few fresh water sources like the Sea of Galilee, but south in Judah it was very arid and people living in this region relied on cisterns to gather rainwater. They knew the pain of drought and hope of lifegiving water. “Burning sand shall become a pool and thirsty ground springs of water; the haunts of jackals shall become a swamp, the grass shall become reeds and rushes.” (vs. 7) These are words of hope in Isaiah’s prophecy for the people of Judah and offer the same kind of hope today to those of us that believe in God’s redemptive work in the world. 

What are the images in creation that would be like water was to those in Isaiah’s time? Would it be the insects and pollinators that we rely on for fruits and vegetables to flourish? Would it be the soil for which regenerative farming practices could revitalize a place for crops to thrive for years to come? Could it be the forests where biodiversity could provide a space to combat the destruction of climate change for a variety of species? Could it even be the waters for us too? The lakes and rivers that are a hallmark of the state of Minnesota, but also critical to the flourishing of all of creation? How do our own small acts speak to our hope for this flourishing community that God promises?

After all the images of God’s redeeming work in creation, Isaiah promises this flourishing for God’s people. In vs. 8 it is called “the Holy Way” for all of God’s people. God’s redeeming work is about hope, hope that will redeem that which has been harmed and even destroyed by human sin and idolatry.

One of the themes that Dave and Amy Freeman wrote about throughout their year in the Boundary Waters was the interconnectedness of all the systems in this protected wilderness. Even in the middle of the winter, when they wouldn’t see other humans for weeks at a time, they enjoyed the company of hosts of birds, otters, foxes, owls and moose that they lived among.

We might not choose to live for a year in the wilderness as an act of hope, but can we find hope for a flourishing community all around us today? What are we called to that might help us find “the Holy Way” in the world? How do we challenge ourselves to create flourishing communities? How do we gather in communities to do God’s work together?

When we contemplate creation rather than manipulating it, we are able to see nature as a gift of God to be cherished and cared for. When we receive in our hearts with gratitude and awe what God has created, we see nature as it truly is – a transcendent reality that asks for reverence and respect. Then it becomes transparent, and life starts to speak a new language, revealing to us the goodness and beauty of God. The plants and animals with whom we live teach us about birth, growth, maturation, and death, about the need for gentle care, and especially about the importance of patience and hope.                     

Henri Nouwen (1936-1992)