Agnes de Rochier was the only daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants of Paris, and was admired by all the neighborhood for her beauty and virtue. In 1403 her father died, leaving her the sole possessor of his wealth. Rumour immediately disposed of her hand to all the young gallants of the quarter.

She determined to become what was then called a recluse, and as such to pass the remainder of her days in a narrow cell built within the wall of a church. On the 5th of October when the cell, only a few feet square, was finished in the wall of the church of St. Opportune, Agnes entered her final abode.

The Bishop of Paris, attended by his chaplains and the canons of Notre Dame, entered the cell and celebrated a pontifical mass; he then approached the opening of the cell, sprinkled it with holy water, and after the poor thing had bidden adieu to her friends and relations, ordered the masons to fill up the aperture. This was done as strongly as stone and mortar could make; nor was an opening left, save only a small loop-hole, through which Agnes might hear the offices of the church, and receive the aliments given her by the charitable.

She was eighteen years old when she entered this living tomb, and she continued within it eighty years, till death terminated her sufferings! Alas for mistaken piety!

(a) “Opening up, loosing” (ptḥ) the bonds of wickedness implies that one would help people get free from wicked people or wicked habits that entrap them. (b) Tearing away the ropes of a yoke suggests people should help others get free from unjust agreements that bind them, possibly working agreements that enslave people, foreign alliances that impose heavy tribute, or a personal enslavement that a person cannot escape. (c) Sending out the oppressed to a new situation of freedom implies that people who were broken or crushed by the weight of abuse should be set free from the one oppressing them (possibly abuse from slavery, the courts, or an abusive spouse). Finally, (d) the prophet summarizes it all by encouraging the people fasting that “you should break”206 every yoke that binds people. It is difficult to know if this is a literal call for freeing people from slavery, a call for the humane treatment of the abused workers in 58:3b–4, or if this is just a metaphorical call for the removal of the sinful deeds that bind and enslave people. The practical acts of mercy toward people in need in 58:7 suggest that 58:6 should also be interpreted to be addressing practical relationships between people and should not be interpreted just as a broad metaphorical exhortation. These instructions on interpersonal relationships are not new ideals, for the law and the prophets repeatedly address the proper treatment of others and condemn the abuse of the weak by the powerful.

The story has been told of a man who was caught and taken to court because he had stolen a loaf of bread. When the judge investigated, he found out that the man had no job, and his family was hungry. He had tried unsuccessfully to get work and finally, to feed his family, he had stolen a loaf of bread. Although recognizing the extenuating circumstances, the judge said, “I’m sorry, but the law can make no exceptions. You stole, and therefore I have to punish you. I order you to pay a fine of ten dollars.” He then continued, “But I want to pay the fine myself.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a ten-dollar bill, and handed it to the man.

As soon as the man took the money, the judge said, “Now I also want to remit the fine.” That is, the man could keep the money. “Furthermore, I am going to instruct the bailiff to pass around a hat to everyone in this courtroom, and I am fining everyone in this courtroom fifty cents for living in a city where a man has to steal in order to have bread to eat.” The money was collected and given to the defendant.

This is an excellent example of justice being meted out in full and paid in full—while mercy and grace were also enacted in full measure.

PSALM 42:1; JOHN 4:6–29

Desire; Discontent; Satisfaction; Thirst

In his book Sahara Unveiled, William Langewiesche tells the story of an Algerian named Lag Lag and a companion whose truck broke down while crossing the desert:

They nearly died of thirst during the three weeks they waited before being rescued. As their bodies dehydrated, they became willing to drink anything in hopes of quenching their terrible thirst. The sun forced them into the shade underthe truck, where they dug a shallow trench. Day after day they lay there. They had food, but did not eat, fearing it would magnify their thirst. Dehydration, not starvation, kills wanderers in the desert, and thirst is the most terrible of all human sufferings.

Physiologists … use Greek-based words to describe stages of human thirst. For example, the Sahara Desert is dipsogenic, meaning “thirst provoking.”

In Lag Lag’s case, they might say he progressed from eudipsia, “ordinary thirst,” through bouts of hyperdipsia, meaning “temporary intense thirst,” to polydipsia, “sustained excessive thirst.” Polydipsia means the kind of thirst that drives one to drink anything.

For word enthusiasts, this is heady stuff. Nevertheless, the lexicon has not kept up with technology. I have tried, and cannot coin a suitable word for the drinking of rusty radiator water. Radiator water is what Lag Lag and his assistant started into when good drinking water was gone. In order to survive, they were willing to drink, in effect, poison.

Many people do something similar in the spiritual realm. They depend on things like money, sex, and power to quench spiritual thirst. Unfortunately, such “thirst quenchers” are in reality spiritual poison, a dangerous substitute for the “living water” Jesus promised.

Citation: William Langewiesche, Sahara Unveiled (Vintage, 1997); submitted by Jeff Ingram