Text:  John 7:37-39a                                                                                                     Pentecost

Got Water?

            In the name of him who has given us his Holy Spirit, dear friends in Christ:  I’m sure you’ve all seen some of television commercials for the Dairy Board that show a person eating chocolate chip cookies or a peanut butter sandwich or something else notorious for drying out your mouth, who then goes to the fridge and reaches for the milk carton … only to discover it’s empty.  Because they know you can sympathize with the situation, then comes the question that asks, how about you? “Got milk?”  You’ve got to admit that as far as commercials go, they’re usually not too bad.  And they make the point:  lest you find yourself in a similar predicament, make sure you’ve got a full carton stashed away.  It really is a clever way of overcoming the problem of advertising a product that people buy all the time anyway.  They know folks always buy milk – they just want you to buy more of it.   So they kind of go through the back door to say the only time you really appreciate things you normally take for granted is when you haven’t got them.

So, borrowing that idea, and in the spirit of today’s Gospel reading, this morning I’d like to ask you, “Got water?”  Sure you do.  Water is such a basic necessity that we rarely give any thought to it – you don’t need to because it’s always available.  Turn the tap and there it is.  Of course, that wasn’t always the case; but the reason we’ve made it so readily available is precisely because water is so absolutely necessary – and not just for drinking.  I remember when I grew up we had a well that supplied the house with water.  Most of the time it worked great, but when there was a power outage, there was no water.  And the electricity you could do without for a while – use candles, flashlights, whatever; but the water you couldn’t.  No water meant no cooking, no bathing, no using the toilet…  Such things become major problems right away. And it wasn’t only when the power went out.  I can remember waking up in the morning to discover we had no water because during the night the pump had lost its prime, or one of the lines had broken or become clogged with silt, or the pump motor had burned out, or some other such thing.  When that happened it was “stop everything until we get the water back on line.”  No question about it:  you really appreciate water when you haven’t got it. 

Now, folks in Bible times would have really understood that.  Though there was usually ample water in Palestine, its semiarid climate meant that from time to time, it could be a preciously scarce commodity.  Of course, it was pretty much always that way in the deserts that surrounded the land. Well, anyway, largely as a means of getting his people to appreciate and give thanks for the abundant and well-watered land he’d given them, the Lord had his people observe the Feast of Tabernacles.  I suppose it’s the closest Jewish equivalent to our own Thanksgiving Day.  But where our custom is to celebrate by overindulging ourselves, the Jews celebrated God’s provision of the basic necessities of life by remembering a time in their history when the basics were especially scarce.

Specifically, they turned their thoughts to the forty years their ancestors had wandered in the desert without any water and food – except that which was miraculously provided to them by God.  The festival was a weeklong affair; and it was called the Feast of Tabernacles or Booths because for that week the people lived in makeshift shelters or tents. They moved out of their houses and camped out in their yards.  City folks who had no yards set up temporary shelters on the roofs of their buildings. They did it to remind themselves of the time they had no houses to live in.

And during this time, many people voluntarily fasted or cut back on their use of water.  They did it to actually feel hunger and thirst so they could better appreciate God’s care for them.  They remembered how in the desert the Lord responded to their hunger by feeding them with bread from heaven and flights of quail that he would have descend on the camp. They remembered too how the Lord quenched their thirst by giving them water that poured forth miraculously from a rock.  You may remember how on one occasion very late in the exodus the people were thirsty and without water.  They cried out to Moses, complaining that the Lord had abandoned them after all these years. Moses was so disgusted with them to think that after all this time they hadn’t learned to trust in God’s gracious provision that instead of speaking to a certain rock outcropping like the Lord told him to, in his anger he struck it with his staff.  The water flowed out and the thirsty people were satisfied – but for his disobedience Moses was banned from entering the Promised Land.  I suppose that’s kind of ironic:  the one fellow who actually trusted in the Lord had to stay out in the desert where he died, while the rest of the people who showed such faithlessness got to go into the land overflowing with milk and honey.

And that too was a big part of the Feast of Tabernacles:  remembering how that even though they didn’t deserve it, the Lord ultimately satisfied all their basic needs by giving them their fruitful and well-watered land.  They remembered it and stirred up feelings of thankfulness for it by revisiting those times when they were lost in a desert wasteland living literally day to day with no visible means of sustenance – only their God to satisfy all their needs.

And besides the temporary shelters and fasting, the festival included lots of special ceremonies and sacrifices in the temple to give thanks to God.  These thanksgiving observances all came to a climax on the last and greatest day of the festival.  Then they had a special ceremony in which a priest with an empty water pitcher made of gold would lead a singing throng of people out of the temple. Their parade went down from Mount Zion, descending through the winding streets of the city, all the way to the pool of Siloam in the lower quarter.  There the priest would fill his pitcher with cool water, and then turn around and lead the singing parade of people all the way back up to the temple.

All of which might sound like making a big deal out of a trip to fetch a little water – and I suppose it was; but the whole thing had some deep symbolism connected to it.  But to understand it, you have to know a little about this pool.  It turns out that it was the only source of water in the city in times of distress.  You see, ancient Jerusalem originally had no natural water source within the city walls. That could be very bad for the inhabitants if an enemy army came along and laid siege to the city.  With no water, it wouldn’t be long before thirst forced the city to surrender.  But in the days of King Hezekiah, they tapped a hidden spring in the Kidron Valley, and through a series of caves and tunnels that ran underneath the city wall, they got the water to flow into the pool of Siloam.  Siloam means “the Sent One”, so named because its water was sent in from an outside source.   And incidentally, the hidden spring it came from was called the “Gihon”, which means “bubble forth” or “pour forth”; but most people referred to it by its nickname: “The Virgin”.  So the “Sent One”, that had its birth from “The Virgin”, and that came rather covertly into the city, was the city’s only source of water when the enemy was pressing hard on all sides … hmm. 

Well in any case, back to the ceremony:  the priest bearing the pitcher of water from the Siloam and leading the rejoicing throng, arrived at length at the temple.  The whole crowd would then make seven complete circuits of the altar of sacrifice while singing the great psalms of thanksgiving with the choruses, Hallelujah (Praise the Lord), and Hosanna (Work salvation for us now). At each circuit, the singing would grow louder, so that at the final lap it reached a crescendo like that which brought down the walls of Jericho.  And then, suddenly there was silence.  The priest with the pitcher would step forward and pour the water on the altar. There was a drain there that directed the water through the altar and caused it to flow out from the base.  But it took some time for this to happen, and the whole crowd stood anxiously watching for the water to appear.  As soon as it was seen, the people would erupt into joyous shouting.

Now, understand what the ceremony was saying:  by taking the water on which the life of the city depended, and pouring it through the altar on which the sacrifices were offered, they were saying, “Here’s the Rock from which the water flows.  This is the source of our life.  When the enemy attacks, here’s where the Lord’s forgiveness pours forth, here’s where we are cleansed from sin, here’s where our God grants us life and salvation – this is where he comes to us and fills us with Holy Spirit.”  They were recognizing that their true needs – their true thirsts – were the spiritual ones.  And that here God graciously satisfied those thirsts, for which they were profoundly grateful.  … At least, that’s what they were supposed to be thinking.  I imagine that many were completely unaware of the symbolism; for them it was just a tradition:  “We do it every year.”  And I Imagine that many of those who did understand it had their minds elsewhere; “After all this fasting and living in a temporary hut for a week, I’m looking forward to a real meal and sleeping in my own bed.  Hurry up; let’s get this over with.”

But on this particular Feast of Tabernacles, while the hushed crowd eagerly watched for the water to appear from the base of the altar, a loud voice was heard crying out in the temple courts.  Startled at the distraction, all eyes turned to see Jesus standing there alone shouting, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.”

 Surely the religious leaders and many of the pious were angry at having their ceremony so rudely interrupted.  Others were probably wondering what that strange man was shouting about.  And I don’t know that anyone there that day understood exactly what Jesus was saying; but I want you to.  Jesus was saying, “You think you’ve got water there? No!  It’s over here.  All that is about me.  I’m the Sent One born of the Virgin.  I’m the sole source of water and life.  I’m the Rock in the wilderness struck by Moses (the Law) so that unfaithful sinners can drink.  I’m the Faithful One who must be cast out so that undeserving others can go in to the Promised Land.  I’m the sacrifice for sin from which flows the water that cleanses you and fills you with God’s Spirit.  Do you see it?  This festival, this altar, this temple, this ceremony, it’s all pointing you to me! Come to me.  Believe in me.  And you will be filled to overflowing with water divine.”

No.  For the most part they didn’t understand what Jesus was telling them.  And about six months later, at another festival, the Feast of the Passover, they cast him out and crucified him – thus fulfilling everything he’d said.  As he hung on the cross, shortly before he died he cried out again, “I thirst”.  The divine water of God’s Spirit was being wrenched away from him.  And remember that when he died, when he gave up the Spirit completely, a soldier pierced him with a spear bringing forth a gush of water and blood.

Have you got that water?  Listen:  everyone is spiritually thirsty.  Just as your body needs water to live, your soul needs God’s Spirit to be alive and happy and healthy.  But not everyone knows that or how to get it if they do.  Still, the thirst is there.  Usually folks try to satisfy their emptiness with sinful self-indulgence.  “I’ll just do whatever pleases me – that will fulfill my life.”  They turn to worldly wealth, entertainment, sex, drugs, alcohol, whatever; and it works for a while.  It seems to satisfy – and many people drinking this water will tell you they’re happy.  But in the end it always turns out to be a bitter well that leads to ruin and misery.

Many folks get that far, see that sin is a dead end, and know that what they really need is spiritual fulfillment.  They know they need to find God.  They make their mistake by seeking him through trying to please him.  It makes sense to the natural man if sinning displeases God, then trying to find his will and obey it will fix the problem.  So they try their best to be good, law abiding, faithful people; and this too works for a while.  Many devoted legalists appear happy and spiritually fulfilled.  But the way of obedience is like drinking salt water. Though it’s cold and wet in the mouth, it just makes you thirstier.  That is to say, the more you try to be obedient, the more you realize you can’t be. The wrong answer most people then make is to come up more rules to obey – “if I can’t please God by doing that, I’ll add this to make up for it.”  But they are just more rules they can’t keep.  When they get to that point, they’re really thirsty – and they’re ready to hear about the water that Jesus has to offer.  The water that flows from him and what he did to fill our lives with the Spirit of God.

But we here today are post-Pentecost people of God.  With a few exceptions perhaps, we didn’t go through those steps of thirst.  Most of us were born into the Promised Land.  We were washed in the water of God’s forgiveness and given his Holy Spirit long before we were able to speak.  For as long as we can remember, we’ve always had the living water of Christ welling up within ourselves.  And so, as your pastor, I feel kind of like the Dairy Board, trying to get you interested in a product that you all have on hand and know you need anyway.

What’s the point of that?  Well, though my motives are not as mercenary as the Dairy Board, I too want to make sure you have more of the living water on hand all the time.  I want you to have more so that you don’t find yourself running out when the circumstances of your life make you really thirsty.  I want you to keep your canteen full so you are well equipped to face the battle.  I want you to have more of the Spirit’s water so that you don’t find yourself tempted to satisfy your thirsts from the bitter waters of sin, or the salt water of legalism – as we all sometimes do.  I want you to have enough water to bath daily in God’s grace and forgiveness.  I want you to have plenty of the living water of God’s Spirit so that it overflows from you to the people around you – that through you they will experience God’s love and forgiveness, and that you will be a well of living water to them.

            Got water?  My Pentecost prayer is that by continuing to come to Christ through his holy Word, you always will.  In Jesus’ name.  Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria!