Sunday, March 12, 2023

Living Water

 

3rd Sunday of Lent

Cycle A

We’ve sure had a heck of a lot of snow this year, haven’t we? They say it’s the most we’ve had in the past 40 years. And it’s a good thing and a bad thing, isn’t it? It made for a great ski season. Park City has never stayed open until the end of April. And the reservoirs are actually being let off a bit even now, in anticipation of a strong runoff in the Spring, so the watersports should be good this summer.

But I think even the most diehard skiers are a bit tired of it by now. We all say, “Well, we need the water”, and we do, but many towns are starting to fill sandbags just in case there’s flooding. And we’re seeing a lot of avalanches. Water is always a two-edged sword. We either have too much or too little. It can mean life or death. We need it to live but it can also kill us. With the spring runoff upon us, we’re going to start seeing a lot of water making its way down the mountains. Have you ever followed a stream as it meanders down the mountain? Why does it choose the path it does? It doesn’t go straight downhill, which would be the fastest way to flow. It goes this way and that, curving, dropping, and falling, seemingly randomly. Water seems to have a mind of its own, doesn’t it? It really does seem to be alive at times. It finds the path of least resistance, then forces its way into it. It is almost alive. It seems to know where to go and it can completely change the landscape it travels through.

That stream or river didn’t start out as a large, forceful body of water. It started out small, as a trickle of melt off, and it was joined by other small trickles, until it had the wherewithal to force some dirt out of the way, find a crack here and there and flow into it, eventually carving a path for itself. In time, moving through the path of least resistance, it could become a rushing stream or mighty river, giving life to nature and to humanity.

Living water. Finding small cracks and exploiting them. Giving life to nature and to humanity. Such a wonderful image for baptism. And today is all about baptism. This morning we will be celebrating the first scrutiny for our elect, and so we read from the wonderful gospel story of the woman at the well. Our elect are preparing for baptism at the Easter Vigil, and they need to hear this story today, because it’s their story.  Our candidates received their baptism earlier in their lives, and we honor their baptism as well as they hear the renewal of Jesus’ gift of lifegiving water that never dies.

Just like the water in a mountain stream, the living water of Jesus always finds a way through. It seeks out the smallest crack and fills it. Sometimes that crack is caused by our weakness and our sinfulness and our brokenness. God’s living water doesn’t avoid the brokenness, it seeks it out and finds it and fills it. It changes the landscape of our lives and heals it. Jesus knew the Samaritan woman’s sinfulness. He knew the pain her sins had caused her and her community. He didn’t judge her for it. He didn’t withhold his life-giving water. He offered it to her. And when she took it, the whole town was transformed.

The woman at the well came to love Jesus only after he “told me everything I have ever done”. But that was not what turned her heart. Everyone in her village knew her past. It was the fact that even though he had such intimate knowledge of her and her life, he did not judge her for it like her neighbors did. Instead, he offered her eternal life. How liberating that must have felt for someone who felt so ostracized and worthless that she had to go to the well in the middle of the hot day, when no other people were expected to be there! Jesus gave her back her dignity. He spoke to her when he wasn’t supposed to. He conversed with her as an equal, without looking down on her. And he offered her himself, the life-giving water that would change her life forever.

We are all the woman at the well. We all have a past that includes things we aren’t particularly proud of. We all have sinned and have felt the worthlessness sin can bring. And we have all encountered Jesus in some way or other. Some of us have moved our relationship with him to another level, to the level of trust. Some of us have gone all the way to love. We been transformed by the living water of Jesus.

How so very often we take water for granted. We turn on the tap and out it comes. The snows melt and the water somehow gets to the farms so we can have food and into our pipes, so our lawns remain green. We just expect it to be there. We rarely think about it. How so very often we take the living water of baptism for granted. After all, for most of us baptism happened a long, long time ago. What began as a trickle on our foreheads may have dried up. Or it may have grown into a rushing stream that cannot be contained.

Whatever it is now, take a lesson from the snows of winter. Every summer the waters recede, and the desert is parched, yet every winter the snows fall and in the spring it melts and runs down the mountains, starting small and growing in force until it gives life to all nature and to humanity. Every spring we celebrate the season of Lent when we are in the desert. When we are parched. When we come face to face with our own brokenness.

But the snows are melting, and the water is coming.

 

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