“The Thirsty Deer”

(Ps 42&43; Luke 8:26-39) Sun, June 22, 2025, FBC Amherst, JG White

Have you ever been quite thirsty? I mean, really in need of some water or whatever? I always recall an all day outing with some folks one sunny day, out in the wilderness. I had packed my lunch and all, and two bottles of water I’d filled with a litre or two. One was a nice glass bottle that had been for maple syrup. At some point in the morning I looked at it - with disgust - there was a dead earwig floating in it. I dumped it all out. 

Well, needless to say, hours later, in the hot afternoon, I was so thirsty! I wished I still had that jug of water, dead insect or not in it. 

Book II of the Psalter begins with Psalms 42 & 43, which fit together well. It starts with a thirsty deer. Like the deer, so my soul thirsts for God, the living God. When will we meet, face to face?!

Inspired by that opening image, we sang

As the deer panteth for the water 

so my soul longeth after Thee

A much older hymn, that nobody knows, in our pew Hymnal (344) begins As pants the hart for cooling streams 

when heated in the chase

And there are plenty of other versions of this, set to music.

The ‘thirst for God’ is a theme of the Faith, of the Bible, of human beings, that sometimes grabs my attention. I go hunting for such expressions of divine longing in the Bible, and in classic prayers and writings. Augustine, Bishop in the fifth century, is famous for the end of this sentence, from his famous book, ‘The Confessions.’ You arouse us so that praising you may bring us joy, because you have made us and drawn us to yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you. 

You likely know the restlessness, if not now, from your past. You know a thirst for God. At times you have found what you sought. And you may well have experienced not finding what you needed. I think of the U2 lyric: But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.

Like a thirsty deer are we, our souls, our inner selves. As the hunted deer pants for a drink, so we long for the ‘water of life.’

‘The Thirsty Deer.’ Sounds like it should be the name of a pub (not a sermon). I looked for one. You can find taverns named The Thirsty Duck, Lion, King, Scholar, Hound, Moose, Beaver, Bear, Turtle, Whale, Oyster, … but no Thirsty Deer. 

Such places have been called ‘watering holes,’ but not because of the water. Of course, for many the hurts and traumas and troubles of life are what lead them to ‘drown their sorrows’ and get into alcohol. Though we have the story of Jesus turning water into wine, for a wedding, He speaks of himself simply as water, living or running water. For the terribly troubled man in today’s Gospel reading, Jesus gives the freedom he needed from whatever evil oppression that legion of demons means. 

You or I may not be as desperate as that man living in a cemetery, but we too have our moments of thirst, thirst for the living God. I played for you a song I like, simply expressing a desperate longing for God, God as close as the air I breathe or the bread I eat.

Our Psalms today look back at good days, good days together with the faithful. But today, today I am down. Why is my soul so low? Maybe I have enemies. Certain people. Or some evil powers that keep harassing me. How about advertisements? The news? Social media posts? Local gossip? My own past that haunts? A disease the enemy? Financial troubles? There is so much ‘negative energy’ as people say today, and it certainly is real. Real negative. And real powerful too.

So we turn again to a ‘Higher Power.’ The One for Whom we sing. The One to Whom we pray. The One for Whom we built this building. The One we honour with our offering in ten minutes. The One we serve when we leave for our first week of summer.

OK: random moment. We interrupt this sermon to bring you… what happened to me as I was editing my sermon notes last evening. There I was, sitting on the back deck of our home, laptop in my lap. I heard a little sound; thought it might be my neighbour in his yard, maybe starting a little campfire. Then I heard a rustling by our shed. 

I see a racoon come running along the little hedgerow. I hiss at it a bit, to discourage it from hanging around the neighbourhood. But as I hiss, a deer - Yes, a DEER - is there, running along right after the racoon, and the deer stops in its tracks, startled by my hiss. It looks in my general direction, and then rushes on. 

 Last week, as I considered preaching a deer sermon, I remembered the prayer by the Serbian Orthodox Bishop that we used, in part, today. A prayer for enemies; to bless my enemies. Did you pray this phrase?  Just as a hunted animal finds safer shelter than an unhunted animal does, so have I, persecuted by enemies, found the safest sanctuary, having ensconced myself beneath your tabernacle, where neither friends nor enemies can slay my soul.

Oh, to find that tabernacle of God, that tent of Christ as a safe place for my soul, in these troubled days. May the troubles train us to find the best shelter, be resilient and strong, and be kind to enemies.

Like a strong deer. Sometimes a thirsty deer. 

The phrase at the very end of Habakkuk is found also in a Psalm (18:33) and in 2 Samuel (22:34). 

God, the Lord, is my strength; 

he makes my feet like the feet of a deer 

and makes me tread upon the heights.

I still wonder what makes a person seek God - or whatever words they use when they start the quest. What makes our soul thirsty, like that running deer? What kindles the ‘fire of devotion?’ (I also saw fireflies in my backyard, after the racoon/deer visit.) What stirs up our restless souls to go after the One who is our perfect rest? 

I fear that the quest, for many who’ve been on it, becomes dull and disappointing. The great days, the best days, seem over. Maybe we didn’t get what we’d signed up for in the Church. Or we have become more comfortable, capable, and self-sufficient. Maybe desperate times require desperate measures - then we start running again; hopefully running toward our amazing God. 

For the whole race of life is worth it. Worth keeping at it. We don’t arrive. We are pilgrims on a journey. Still seeking. Still finding. Still thirsting and finding the water of the soul that does not run dry. 

‘All the way to heaven is heaven’ said the great Medieval thinker of the Faith, Catherine of Sienna. All the way to heaven is heaven. Might we continue, and say things like 

All the way to God is God?  All the way to faith is Faith?

All the way to self is yourself?

Life is a journey. Life is filled with longings that can lead us. Psalm 37 (just a couple pages before 42) says

Take delight in the Lord,

     and he will give you the desires of your heart.

May our own Creator bless us, in these days, with the best of desires in our hearts. Desires for all that is good. Good for others, I mean. Desires for God, who is as close as our breath and the bread we eat. Desires for real hope, in a world struggling to hold on to hope.  Hope in God, for I shall again praise him,

    my help and my God.