Scripture Introduction
God required his people to have a grand party each fall. This joyous, harvest festival reminded the Jews of Jehovah’s favor and brought thousands to Jerusalem for the “Feast of Booths,” or “Feast of Tabernacles” (as it is sometimes called). For eight days, everyone camped in “booths,” simple huts formed from branches and grass matting—reminders of Israel’s wilderness wanderings, a time when they lived in tents and temporary shelters on the way to the promised land.
God describes the festivities in Leviticus 23.39-43: “On the fifteenth day of the seventh month, when you have gathered in the produce of the land, you shall celebrate the feast of the LORD seven days…. 40 And you shall take on the first day the fruit of splendid trees, branches of palm trees and boughs of leafy trees and willows of the brook, and you shall rejoice before the LORD your God seven days…. 42 You shall dwell in booths for seven days. All native Israelites shall dwell in booths, 43 that your generations may know that I made the people of Israel dwell in booths when I brought them out of the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God.”
Over time the Jews added other ceremonies. As we do with VBS, these involved children and adults and told the story of redemption and God’s provision. The final day, the great day, the day we are reading about in John 7, the drama was particularly impressive. Many Christian and Rabbinic writers explain the event. I edited Kent Hughes’ description (John, Preaching the Word Series, Crossway, 1999) for this account:
Great throngs came to town for the festivities, sometimes known as “the season of our gladness.” Colorful shelters sprang up in the most unlikely places—on flat rooftops, down dark alleys, even in the courts of the temple—and all followed the rabbinical building code. Walls were extra-thin so that light came through, and the roof had to show enough sky to see the stars, reminding the Jews of their wandering in the wilderness and of how God had provided.
At the heart of the celebration was a daily rite…. Each morning a crowd gathered at the Temple of Herod with a citrus fruit in their left hands (an etrog )…. In their right hands the people carried a lulab, a combination of three trees—a palm tree, a willow, and a myrtle, emblematic of the stages of their ancestors’ journey through the wilderness. The people followed the priest to the Pool of Siloam, chanting Psalms and waving their lulabs. At the Pool, the priest dipped his pitcher into the water, and the people recited Isaiah 12.3: “With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.” Then they marched back to the temple, entering through the Water Gate to the blast of trumpets. The priest circled the altar once, ascended the platform, and pour out the water. This daily event [reminded Israel of God’s provision of water from the rock in Exodus 17.]
On the final day they enacted the same ceremony, dipping the golden pitcher in the water, carrying it through the Water Gate, sounding the trumpets. But then the priest circled the altar seven times—just like at Jericho. As he finished, a priest with a pitcher of wine joined him. They then ascended the ramp to the altar. They paused; the priest raised his pitcher. The crowd shouted for him to hold it higher. He reached as high as he could so that all could see, for it was considered a tremendous blessing to see the water poured. The crowd became silent as the water fell from the pitcher.
[Read John 7.37-39. Pray.]
Introduction
Jim Collins’ book, Good To Great, sold more than a million copies. The first sentence captures his main point: “Good is the enemy of great.” Collins believes that most organizations fail to become great because they are good, and we settle for good. Good is good enough for most people.
As a pastor, I think I see the same in many Christians’ lives. We read our bibles, attend church, give offerings, and pray over our meals—all good (if innocuous). But maybe the good is the enemy of the great. Could we be lulled into false security and faked contentment, and miss the end for which God gave those things?
Should we read the Bible every day? Absolutely—and remember Jesus’ warning: “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life” (John 5.39-40).
Must we worship in Spirit and Truth? Absolutely—and remember that the service is not an end in itself. We participate in a worship service because Jesus meets with us when we gather around the word in faith, hope, and love.
Most Christians remember a time when they thirsted deeply for more of Jesus. There is a song that captures how we felt: “More about Jesus would I know, more of His grace to others show, more of His saving fullness see, more of His love who died for me. More, more about Jesus….” Jesus cries out as the water pours to renew our passion for knowing him. And it begins with: “If anyone thirsts.”
1. We Must Thirst Before We Drink (John 7.37)
After the iceberg ripped open the hull of the Titanic, all who stayed with her would die. Of course, many did not realize that a fatal blow had been struck. They continued to party with no fear—singing, drinking, dancing, and laughing. Others knew the ship hit ice, but they refused the lifeboats because they could not imagine the Titanic sinking. The headlines of the April 16, 1912, Los Angeles Times tell the story and a parable: “Fifteen Hundred Lives Lost When Titanic Plunges Headlong Into Depths of the Sea.” Many passengers failed to recognize that they were lost, even resisting efforts to get them into lifeboats. So today, too few realize their own need.
There is an old saying among evangelists: “The hardest work is not getting folks saved, but getting them lost.” John Piper adds: “The hardest thing is not to satisfy thirst, but to make people feel thirst for God. All men thirst. But not all thirst for God.” What do you thirst for?
A difficulty is realizing that sin contaminates our taste. When I try to tell folks that all people are sinners, they suppose I am saying that they do bad things. And that is true enough—sinful people do sin. But more fundamentally, sin makes spiritual pursuits feel like sand in the mouth. Apart from a work of God’s grace, satisfying the soul appears foolhardy. Delight in God, devotion to prayer, disciplined Bible study, determined witnessing for Jesus—these waters taste bitter until the cross sweetens them by renewing the sense of taste.
So when Jesus says, “If anyone thirsts,” I take him to mean: “If anyone thirsts for God, for his kingdom, for more of his grace and glory.” Like in Matthew 5.6, where Jesus blesses those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. Jesus does not promise to satisfy thirst for riches and personal glory.
So everyone thirsts. That is why we chase pleasure—whether it be new purchases, food, music, or any of a hoard of selfish and sexual fantasies. Thirsty people seek drink, and sip at many cisterns hoping to satiate desire. But do we thirst for God? Jesus offers himself as water for all who do.
For all who feel anxiety of soul, conviction of sin, need of forgiveness, loneliness for a permanent home, the sense of lostness, and needing purpose. For all who know the brokenness of the world and the heart-breaking pain of fractured relationships. For you who want a change of heart, a delight in what is good, victory over sin, more courage, more hope, more purity, more faith, more love, and more confidence. These are the thirsts of those who thirst for God.
If you belong to that group, know that Jesus’ offer is as wide as the world—let anyone who thirsts, come. The invitation is not narrowed by race or nationality or gender or past failings or any of the criteria so often used to discriminate. Only one condition is named—thirst: “If you thirst, come to me.”
But what if you do not thirst for the kingdom of God, or the things of God? There is an answer: ask God for the thirst Jesus speaks of. You already know that you want more out of life. Ask God to redeem your sense of taste so that what you long to put inside of you is that which truly satisfies your soul?
And what about friends whose thirsts are disordered? May I suggest that instead of dousing them with water, even living water, that you seek instead their thirst? Yesterday at the retreat, Pastor John Sartelle challenged us to intercede daily for one person who does not know Christ. The best work we can do for the world is to pray into them a thirst for Jesus.
And for those of us who have walked with God for years but have lost our thirst for more of Jesus, whether because of settling for what is good or seeking what is bad, let us covenant together to pray for a renewed thirst for God. For everyone who thirsts is invited to drink of Living Water. How do we do that?
2. We Must Believe In Order to Drink (John 7.37b-38)
We must believe in Jesus in order to have our thirst satisfied; in fact, more than satisfied, inundated. By constantly coming to Jesus and believing in him, we are not simply filled up, we are made to overflow. But what does it mean to believe? To believe in Jesus is to affirm his worth, to agree that he is the gift of God and the hope for life. To believe in Jesus is to acknowledge that his Word overflows in grace and truth, and that no one ever spoke like him. To believe in Jesus is to place your hope for life in his promises, to bank on his love, to come to your judge and maker unafraid. To believe in Jesus is to recognize that he holds the universe together with the Word of his power; it is to accept that his alone will make you happy; it is to love his kingdom more than life itself.
This is precisely why studying the Bible is central to the Christian faith. Jesus has ascended to the Father. If we are to know him, it will be through his word. The Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments bear witness about him. Please do not settle for a life of avoiding suffering—seek to know the one who satisfies your soul. Devote yourself to the Word that you might find him who is the Living Water. Then drink.
3. We Must Drink To Be Satisfied (John 7.38b-39)
What does it mean to drink in Christ Jesus? It is to count him ultimately desirable. It is reading his Word daily because you know that it testifies to him. It is crying out to him passionately for more of his Spirit and grace.
C. S. Lewis said that it is refusing to be satisfied with “drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered [you. We are] like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
John Piper: “It is not that our desire for pleasure is too strong but too weak! We have settled for a home, a family, a few friends, a job, a television, a microwave oven, an occasional night out, a yearly vacation, and perhaps a new personal computer. We have accustomed ourselves to such meager, short-lived pleasures that our capacity for joy has shriveled.”
So what do we do?
1) We Must Thirst: Christians seem to respond to spiritual dryness as we would a fever: take Tylenol to mask the symptoms. We do not want to be stranded in the desert without water, so we avoid soul thirst. But what if we were to seek to thirst more? The thirsts we first feel are too shallow, and we satiate them with food and drink and sexual fantasies. Would you consider asking God for a thirst so profound that it refuses to be slaked by salty cisterns?
2) We Must Come to Jesus: Nothing else will do. Refuse worship that is “good” but leaves you short of Jesus. Abandon Bible study that fails to make you drink of Christ. Do not rest until everything in your life, in your church, in your heart and soul brings you to Jesus. Come to him to drink.
3) We Must Overflow to Others: I believe the church in America is being destroyed by self-absorption. The Dead Sea is “dead” as a direct result of its taking in water with no outlet. The salts that leach into rivers, drain into the Dead Sea while the pure water evaporates. The high salt content leaves it poisonous to all life. As many pastors have observed, this is a parable for the Christian life: we must overflow to others before we know the satisfaction of drinking in Christ. Is your life a river of Living Water flowing to those who thirst for God? Until it is, we will dry out until we crumble a millennia old parchment does when the book is discovered and opened.
4. Conclusion
In C. S. Lewis’ The Silver Chair, Jill Pole is whisked away from England to Narnia. The adventure begins poorly as she is frightened by a large lion and ends up face down in the grass, crying. When she stopped, she found she was dreadfully thirsty. She heard one, small, persistent sound… and felt almost sure it was the sound of running water.
There was no sign of the lion; but there were so many trees about that it might easily be quite close without her seeing it. But her thirst was very bad now, and she plucked up her courage to go and look for that running water. It was not difficult to decide where the sound was coming from. It grew clearer every moment and, sooner than she expected, she came to an open glade and saw the stream. But although the sight of the water made her feel ten times thirstier than before, she didn’t rush forward and drink. She stood as still as if she had been turned into stone, with her mouth wide open. And she had a very good reason; just on this side of the stream lay the lion.
“If you’re thirsty, you may drink.” For a second she stared here and there, wondering who had spoken. Then the voice said again, “If you are thirsty, come and drink,” and of course she remembered what Scrubb had said about animals talking in that other world and realized that it was the lion speaking. Anyway, she had not seen its lips move this time, and the voice was not like a man’s. It was deeper, wilder, and stronger; a sort of heavy, golden voice. It did not make her any less frightened than she had been before, but it made her frightened in rather a different way.
“Are you not thirsty?” said the Lion?
“I’m dying of thirst,” said Jill.
“Then drink,” said the Lion.
“May I – could I – would you mind going away while I do?” said Jill?
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
“Will you promise not to – do anything to me if I do come? Said Jill.
“I make no promise,” said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
“Do you eat girls?” she said.
“I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms,” said the Lion. It didn’t say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.
“I daren’t come and drink,” said Jill.
“Then you will die of thirst,” said the Lion.
“Oh, dear,” said Jill, coming another step nearer. “I suppose I must go and look for another stream then.”
“There is no other stream,” said the Lion.
It never occurred to Jill to disbelieve the Lion—no one who had seen his stern face could do that—and her mind suddenly made itself up. It was the worst thing she had ever had to do, but she went forward to the stream, knelt down, and began scooping up water in her hand. It was the coldest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted….
It will not be safe to come to Jesus to drink. But it will be the coldest, most refreshing water you ever taste. If you have the courage to come. Do you?
