Come and buy without money

Dear sisters and brothers,

“Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the water! Even those who have no money, come. Buy and eat! Come and buy without money!”

This text is a small revolution in the history of religion.

Because religion has often been understood like this: human beings give God something — and God gives something back. You keep the commandments so that God will reward you. You pray so that God will grant your wishes.

Achievement in return for reward. A gift in return for another gift.

That is how much of everyday life works. Those who work receive money. Those who train get fitter. And those who collect enough points eventually receive a reward — or a frying pan they had not realised they were missing.

It is easy to transfer this thinking to God: have I prayed enough? Done enough good? Am I devout enough? Am I even worthy to come to God?

Then Isaiah breaks through this way of thinking:

“Come and buy without money!”

Buying without money — that should be impossible. That is precisely the point.

With God, there is nothing to buy. God’s love is not a commodity. God’s grace is not a reward for outstanding religious achievement.

God does not say: first show me what you have achieved.

God says: you are thirsty? Then come.

During my time as a school chaplain, a student of about sixteen once came to me. He no longer knew what to do. Everything had become too much for him. He had even had thoughts of not wanting to live any more.

He was being bullied and felt worthless because he was not one of those who were particularly cool, good at football or the dominant voices in class.

At a moment like that, you quickly realise how little clever words can help.

What mattered first was listening. Staying. Showing him: you are not alone. You do not have to justify yourself or prove that your life is valuable.

We had many conversations and looked together for further help. Again and again, one question came up:

How does God see you?

God does not judge you by how popular, athletic or quick-witted you are. Nor by whether you meet other people’s expectations.

God sees you as the person you are: unique, precious and loved.

Slowly, the student was able to discover: I do not have to become someone else before I am accepted. I do not have to be particularly cool or good at football. I do not have to twist myself out of shape to belong.

I could not simply solve his problems. But I could help him see himself through different eyes — perhaps a little through God’s eyes. And I could give him a space where he was allowed to be, with his fear and despair.

Perhaps that is precisely an image for today’s text.

God does not say: pull yourself together. Become stronger first, then come back.

God says: come now. With your thirst. With your emptiness. With what you can scarcely put into words yourself.

That is the revolution: the invitation is for more than the strong — it is especially for the thirsty. For more than those who have everything under control — it is for those who lack something.

Isaiah asks:

“Why spend money on what does not nourish you, and the wages of your labour on what does not satisfy?”

What do we spend our time, energy and attention on? What promises us a fulfilled life — yet leaves us empty?

We collect appointments, possessions and recognition. We compare ourselves with others and wonder whether we are successful and popular enough.

Sometimes we spend hours dwelling on an annoyance the other person has long forgotten. We lie awake — while the person we are upset about is probably sleeping wonderfully.

Many things cost energy. But not everything nourishes us.

The deepest thirst of our hearts cannot be bought: the thirst to be loved. For peace and security. For the certainty that my life is valuable — even when I achieve nothing remarkable.

“Incline your ear and come to me! Listen, and you will live.”

Perhaps faith begins with listening rather than speaking.

Back then, as a school chaplain, I first had to listen. And I believe that even before this student came to me, God had already heard him.

God hears what people can scarcely put into words. God hears the fear behind the silence and the thirst for life in the midst of despair.

Sometimes God answers through people: through someone who listens, stays and arranges help.

Perhaps we too can be such people.

By having a solution for everything? No — by helping another person understand:

You do not have to earn your dignity.

You are not alone.

Your life matters.

“Come and buy without money.”

We do not have to give God something to make God love us. God loves us first.

We do not have to be perfect before we may come to God. We may come because we are thirsty.

With our joy and our grief. With our faith and our doubts. With what has gone well and with what remains unresolved.

We come with empty hands.

And God says: you are welcome just as you are.

Amen.