Lent 3A
In the name of Jesus: the name that charms our fears and
bids our sorrows cease. Amen.
It’s an anxious time these days. And it’s a well-known fact that eating the
bread of anxiety can make you thirsty.
Like all of us, I’ve been thinking a lot about water this week. And not just because people have been
panic-buying bottled water in the stores.
Honestly, water seems to be playing into just about everything I think
about and every interaction I have.
Earlier this week I was consulting with a parishioner about
baptism. Water. Everywhere we turn we hear people telling us
to wash our hands more and longer than we used to. Water.
I’ve even heard that one of the concerns for people who get sick is the
risk of dehydration. They need to drink
plenty of… water!
And now we hear these lessons in worship today. First there’s the story from the Exodus of
the Hebrew people. They are wandering in
the wilderness, and what are they lacking?
Water! They cry out to Moses and
accuse him of bringing them out just so they could die. But, of course, Moses was just a man. Were it not for God he would still be just a
refugee shepherd in the wilderness. But
God was with him, and when God is with us, great things can happen.
So Moses cried out to God.
He knew that he had no power in himself to help himself. So he cried out to God: “What shall I do with
this people? They are almost ready to
stone me.” But even in that wilderness –
even in their desert of despair – God was making a way. Moses did as God instructed, and there, even
where there had been none before – there was water. Enough to quench their thirst. Enough to continue sustaining them on their
journey. Enough to inspire faith in the
drought of their doubt and fear.
When Jesus met the woman at the well, water was an important
character in that story, too. Carrying
water from the well to wherever it needed to go was hard work. The vessels themselves would have been heavy,
but when laden with water it would have been a terrible burden. So the work of making the trip to the well
wasn’t easy. And it was a job that had
to be done no matter the weather, no matter how sick or tired you might have
been, no matter how busy you may have been.
The need for water kept coming, and nothing could hold it back.
So when Jesus met this woman and promised her living water,
that would make it such that she would never thirst again, the prospect was tempting,
at the very least. She wanted in. So Jesus let her in. He told her about the reign of God, and he
told her even about herself. He openly
shared every secret about herself that she most wished was hidden. But here’s the thing I think people too often
overlook in this story: though it’s pretty clearly implied that the woman was
looked upon my most people as being sinful, that didn’t preclude her from the
good news of Jesus Christ. It didn’t
preclude her from finding that “living water” that was promised. It didn’t preclude her from becoming a
disciple and even an evangelist. She
went on to proclaim the good news she had found to anyone who would hear it.
The living water – the love of Christ – couldn’t be stopped
because of human shortcomings. Like
water flowing from a rock, it was too good, too important, too necessary, too
empowered by God to be stopped.
The Hebrew people would never thirst if they just relied on
God. The woman at the well was given sustenance
that she couldn’t have even imagined seeking – just because Jesus was generous
enough to give it.
Earlier this week I took a few minutes out of my day to pray with some colleagues in another streaming worship service, and this passage from Exodus that we read this morning was shared. As a reflection, the leader of the worship read this poem by SteveGarnaas-Holmes. It’s a reflection on this story of Moses and his thirsting followers called “Strike the rock”. It says:
When it's hard, and you don't know
how,
and the need exceeds your capacity,
it isn't yours that matters. It's God's.
When your emptiness looms,
your terrible weakness dominates,
when you are an empty water jug,
then—perfect!—you are ready
as a vessel for the mystery of God.
When there is no hope and you
are in a wilderness without drink,
strike the rock. The water
comes from beyond your imagining.
Yes, there is no water, and besides
you don't know how to strike the
rock.
Yes. Strike the rock anyway.
When you are called upon to serve
beyond what is humanly possible,
trust this, child of God,
and strike the rock.
Desert rock, hush: behold,
there is water in you.
When we’re eating of the bread of anxiety and we become
parched with thirst, remember the living water.
Remember the water from the rock.
Strike the rock – because we have no power in ourselves to help
ourselves. Strike the rock, even if it
doesn’t make sense, because God is giving us everything we need. Strike the rock, because that fear and
anxiety can only be quenched by the living water – it can only be quenched by
the generous, unyielding, indiscriminate love of Christ. That’s the love that’s waiting for you, and
ready for you. That’s the living water
that can overpower any thirst. Thanks be
to God. Amen.
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