Water. Two hydrogen atoms bonded to an oxygen atom. With it- life. Without it- death.
Jesus, full of grace and truth, comes into this world and announces himself to be a new and different type of water. He declares himself to be living water, gifted to the world directly from the source of all life, his Father. Christ himself, a new living water that refreshes and quenches our inner beings at a deeper level of who we are.
And just as the hydrogen and oxygen atoms are bonded together, this gift of living water cannot be separated from the story of its giving. Take away oxygen and you have H2, or hydrogen gas, no more water. Pry Jesus’ teaching about living water away from the woman at the well in John chapter 4 and you no longer have living water.
The gift to the world, this living water is given to a woman who is an outcast among her own people. She heads to the well at noon as one who is not welcome to draw water with the other women of the village who meet at the well in the cooler morning hours. She is a Samaritan, one of “those people” who have little regard for God or the proper way of doing things. She is (and should always be) a stranger to any good upstanding God worshiping Jew.
Any good and upstanding Jew-- except Jesus. This one who is sent from God meets her at the well. On her terms. Truthful about her past and full of grace in his presence, he engages her and welcomes her into a new life of spirit and truth. “I am he,” he tells her, the one who comes to unite us all in a life of spirit and truth.
His disciples don’t get it. They show up and completely blow off the woman, ignoring her and dismissing her existence altogether. They ask Jesus if he is hungry and he tells them that he has already been fed by doing the will of God (by engaging the woman). As with many of Jesus’ teachings, this goes completely over the heads of those who should know him best, those who profess to be his followers.
But Christ’s stop at the well has not gone for naught. His teaching gives life. The woman, having drank deeply from the well of Christ himself, has headed into town and brought back a slew of people to meet him. Amazingly, these are the same people who have ‘estranged’ her and denied her the dignity of being welcomed in her own village!
These fellow strangers have come out to the well where Jesus is. They have come to taste this living water that is given freely to the estranged (and to those who would estrange) in order that they may be sustained at a deeper level of their humanity.
They come to meet a stranger, one who is like no other.
One that can quench thirst at a deeper level.
One called Jesus.
The Christ. A stranger. In his own world. Among his own. A stranger.
Interesting, isn't it, that it is the stranger woman not the disciples, who asks for the living water. After just a short conversation - one in which she actually is listening - she hears more than enough to ask for some and then goes and shares it with her world.
ReplyDeleteHow many times have I been so "close" to Jesus that I haven't heard a word he has said as he speaks into my heart? How many times have I been too busy and preoccupied with my tasks that I politely brush off strangers in my midst. How many times have I been offered this living water and did not recognize that it is what I thirst for?
Great insight Julie.
ReplyDeleteIt seems in your second ppg that perhaps you have had times where you have looked back on an interaction at a later time and realized you had missed the boat on a chance to learn from Jesus himself. This happens to me alot where I view opportunities lost in light of the fact that Jesus has subsequenlty showed up and taught me something that causes me to view an event in the past differently (often with regret).
I think that speaks to God's undying faithfulness to us and his endless pursuit of those he loves. Christ keeps showing up in spite of our missing so many 'closeness' opportunities to hear his voice or see his face as we move through our own busyness, distracted by wells where the water is not near as sweet or life-giving.