"Living Water"

John 7:37-52

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS

February 20, 2022

There are a lot of things in our lives that we take for granted….until they stop working. This is, of course, a great joke when it comes to technology woes. “Technology, it’s great when it works, isn’t it?”

Some of that technology we take for granted feels a little more low-tech than high-tech simply because it’s been around forever. Take, for example, running water. My guess is almost all of us have had access to running water for almost all of our lives. We think nothing of it, even though most of us sure can’t explain the complex technology that makes it possible. 

But we wake up and use the toilet and whoosh - flush - keeping our homes clean and healthy in ways that humans for most of history couldn’t even dream of. We turn on the sink in the bathroom to brush our teeth and - boom - water. Clean, clear, water that’s safe to drink, just comes flowing out of the sink. Incredible! We move on throughout our morning and there’s water, water everywhere. We boil the kettle for our tea or coffee. We take our morning medication with a glass of water, maybe even filtered directly from the refrigerator. We prepare meals, clean clothes, clean bodies, clean windshields, clean dishes, splash and play, water our gardens, and on and on and on all thanks to the gift of clean, running water. Wow. 

Probably the only time we stop to notice this everyday miracle is when it’s not working properly. When we’re under a boil order, we sure notice, don’t we? Or when there’s some other plumbing problem in our home? Then we notice. 

Access to clean, safe water should be a human right but for all too many it’s a privilege. 

Many in our own community struggle to pay their water bill each month, of course. And in too many communities in the United States and around the world, the water might not be safe to drink. Communities of color are disproportionately kept from access to clean drinking water. Economically poor communities cry out for access to safe water systems and struggle, sometimes for decades, to get something most of us take for granted. 

We’ve been told that climate change means many more of us will be thinking about access to water in the future. The ways we currently use water - along with most other natural resources - just isn’t sustainable. Of course, our indigenous neighbors have been telling us this for generations already. “Water is life,” said the protestors at Standing Rock, as they put their bodies on the line to protect the waters of their lands. Teens, adults, elders from all over the U.S. gathered in that place and listened to those who called themselves Water Protectors - and were reminded of all the ways in which water is sacred, necessary for life. All the ways water must be honored and protected at all costs. 

But we mostly don’t think about it. We turn on a tap and there it is. Running water. An everyday miracle. 

The people in Jesus’s time were thinking about it. They had gathered in Jerusalem for the Festival of Booths, Sukkot. This is the fall harvest festival for our Jewish neighbors. In Jesus’s time it involved a pilgrimage to Jerusalem and daily festivities. After a long, dry summer in an arid land, thoughts turned to rain and the water necessary for creating and sustaining life. In an agricultural society, few things are more important than rain - and just the right amount. 

I learned that the hard way when traveling to a friend’s wedding in college in rural Kansas. I remarked at the rehearsal dinner that it was going to be a beautiful weekend for a wedding without a cloud in the sky and no rain. Several of the farmers at my table grimaced at me and one said in a grumbling voice, “Well, we NEED rain.” The conversation then turned to what a dry summer we had had - and I, a city girl, hadn’t noticed. But you’d better believe the farmers were keeping track. 

The folks in Jesus’s time were keeping track, too. During Sukkot, Jews like Jesus would have participated in daily rituals related to water as they prayed for God to bless their crops and create the conditions necessary for life to flourish. Pilgrims may have carried green leaves and fruit to signify the desire for an abundant harvest. And religious leaders walked to the Pool of Siloam, dipped a container in to fill it with water, and then took that water back to the Temple as they prayed for abundant rain. [1]

It is into this context that Jesus cries out,

“All who are thirsty should come to me!

All who believe in me should drink!

As the scriptures said concerning me,

Rivers of living water will flow out from within him.” [2]

“Rivers of living water will flow out from within him.” All who are thirsty come to me, Jesus says, come to me and drink. 

Living water is a more poetic way of saying running water. Moving water. Water that’s not stagnant. Which is to say, in this ancient context, water that is more likely to be safe to drink, cleaner, a gift to humanity. 

Jesus comes to us as a spring of living water. Rivers of water gushing out from him. He looks at these pilgrims, so worried about the upcoming harvest, so caught up in their vulnerability as people eking a life out of dry land, and says, “Come to me and drink.” 

Other translations say that the rivers of living water will be gushing out from the believers. From Jesus’s disciples. And from you and me. And I guess the Greek is basically just ambiguous. It could truly mean either thing. Or both. 

Living water gushing out from Jesus. Living water gushing out from us. 

But the commonality in both readings is that we’re talking about living water. That miraculous, everyday thing that we take for granted because we turn on our taps and it’s there. Jesus and his companions did not have that luxury. Living water was harder to come by for them, but no less necessary. 

And so we’re invited to ponder - what does Jesus offer us when he says living water will gush forth? What are the oh-so-necessary things in our lives  that are hard to come by these days? 

Perhaps it’s rest. Or space for quiet reflection. A sense of peace. A feeling of security that can lead to freedom. Maybe it’s patience or joy. What are the things that can keep our lives from becoming stagnant? Can keep us all fully, utterly, beautifully, wonderfully alive? 

Christ came to these thirsty, worried, vulnerable people and said, “Come and drink. I’ve got more water than you’ll even know what to do with.”

That water flows forth from Christ and saturates us, overflowing and cascading along to others in the world who are also thirsty. This living water sustains us in our shared ministry, giving us courage and strength to continue reaching out to the world around us in love, seeking justice for those who have been trampled upon and seeking health for all of creation.  

When we gather for worship, we are coming to the waters. When we make space to rest in the Spirit’s loving gaze, we are coming to the waters. When we pause and choose our words carefully with love, we are coming to the waters. When we carve out space for joy and delight even when we don’t think we have the time, we are coming to the waters. When we seek creative ways to call out injustice, we are coming to the waters. When we allow our hearts to soar through music, art, poetry, dance, we are coming to the waters. When we make time to sit with a child and hear Christ’s wisdom in their questions, we are coming to the waters. When we listen to someone who is very different than us and lean in with curiosity rather than judgment, we are coming to the waters. 

Jesus is there in all of it. Overflowing with love. Inviting us into abundance. Seeping into the cracks and fissures, seeking out the dry places - soothing and sustaining. Pulling us towards life. 

This is good news for parched people. 

May all who need their cups filled have open hearts to receive it. Amen. 

NOTES

[1] Working Preacher Narrative Lectionary podcast for Feb. 20, 2022.

[2] Contemporary English Bible translation