This is a story of four friends and a drink of water.
Once upon a time--in a far away land of craggy rocks, dull sand, and dark caves—there lived a king. But nobody called him king. He had no throne, no palace. He didn’t even have a crown. But he did have three very close friends who treated him like a king.
The first friend had a face like the desert stones, hard and expressionless. He had a deep and mighty voice and carried a massive spear.
The second friend was thin but strong, with long hair and crinkly eyes that come from much laughing. A long smile always seemed to stretch across his face. A sword that was two hands wide hung across his back.
The third friend was thick and powerful, with broad legs and shoulders. One eye was covered with a patch and half his face was hidden behind a beard the color of rust.
King-Who-Was-Not-Yet-King had been at war for a long time. He had been fighting with the Sea People—ruthless, angry invaders from the coast who fought hard and took what they wanted. They were encamped in a valley nearby, and also in the town where King-Who-Was-Not-Yet-King had been raised. On cool evenings, when the wind blew just right, he could faintly hear their laughter and coarse singing.
It troubled the young man to be so close to his home and not be able to go there. He had grown tired of the bland food they regularly ate, and even the water was beginning to taste stale. King-Who-Was-Not-Yet-King longed for the sweet, rich well water from his hometown. He could almost taste its coolness on his dry tongue.
“Oh, if only there were a way to get a drink from that well,” he said aloud to no one in particular. “How wonderful that would be.”
But the well was heavily guarded by the Sea People, who also recognized good water. As a matter of fact, all the town was well guarded. The Sea People had taken over, and to get in or out without permission was a monumental task.
This did not stop the three friends of King-Who-Was-Not-Yet-King. They gathered around the crackling fire one night and whispered to one another.
“I have a plan to get the water from the well. It is dangerous, but I think it worth a try,” said Stone Face with the massive spear.
“For King-Who-Was-Not-Yet-King, I will do anything,” said the thin one with the mischievous grin. “I owe him much and would gladly offer my help.”
“And the same goes for me,” replied Rustbeard, his one good eye glinting in the firelight. “Let’s hear your plan, and may God grant us success.”
And so the three friends, under cover of darkness, slipped past the Sea People. They clung to the shadows, moving ghostlike past the drowsy guards, into the town, and to the well. They lowered the bucket until they heard a hollow splash, then drew it up again and filled their container with the sparkling water. Then just as quietly the three friends returned to King-Who-Was-Not-Yet-King, bearing their precious gift.
When the young man saw what they had done—and heard how they had risked their lives for the water—he was amazed. He held the container of water in his hands, a symbol of his friends’ love and dedication. But King-Who-Was-Not-Yet-King did not drink the water. He did not even taste its cool sweetness. Instead, he knelt on one knee in the dirt and carefully turned the container upside down. The water gushed out, splashing into the dirt, churning it to mud! He waited until every last drop had soaked into the ground before he stood and faced his surprised friends.
Smiling softly, he told them: “My dear friends, I know what you have done for me. You have risked your very lives to bring me this water. But I could not drink it. To do so would be to see this only as something to quench my thirst or to remind me of my home. And it is something far more valuable than that. It represents the depth of your love for me. So instead of drinking it, I have poured it out as an offering to God, to show my love for you. Neither of us have the water now. It is given to God, to be a permanent reminder of our devotion to one another.”
And so it was that King-Who-Was-Not-Yet-King created a sacramental moment for his three friends by the pouring out of a drink of water.
Once upon a time--in a far away land of craggy rocks, dull sand, and dark caves—there lived a king. But nobody recognized him as king. He had no throne, no palace—at least none that people could see and visit. He didn’t even have a crown—at least none that people would envy and want to wear. He had a crown of twisted, lacerating thorns.
He, too, had some very close friends who loved him. But they didn’t fully understand that he was a king
One friend had a face lined with tanned wrinkles, hard as the midday sun, seasoned by the saltiness of ocean air. He had a strong voice, often given to arguing and outbusts of temper.
Another friend was powerful yet lean, with large hands roughened from handling the nets. He never strayed far from the side of King-Who-No-One-Recognized.
A third friend was of average build, in many ways unexceptional, but with a furtive nature. He thought that if this king was really a king, there would be action. But King-Who-No-One-Recognized didn’t seek power or position; he didn’t raise a battle cry or plot against the government. No matter, the friend thought. I can help things along.
King-Who-No-One-Recognized knew the time had come. He had done all that the Father sent him to do, and now it was time for the final task. On a windswept, desolate hilltop he would be raised above the earth on a Roman cross. He would suffer alone and die alone, forsaken temporarily by even the Almighty.
With his friends seated around him, celebrating an honored and loved Jewish tradition, Jesus took the common, simple items available—bread and wine—and turned them into a sacramental moment.
“Take and eat; this is my body” (Matthew 26:26).
“Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Matthew 26:27-28).
But what is a sacramental moment? Simply put, it is a point in time where we experience the grace of God in a powerful, mysterious, life-changing way. It is a holy moment. A space and time set apart, crackling with the holy presence of God for us.
In his book “Everybody’s Normal Till You Get to Know Them,” John Ortberg tells of a young man named John Gilbert. At age five, John was diagnosed with Duchenne’s Muscular Dystrophy, a genetic, progressive, debilitating disease. At age 25, the disease finally claimed John’s life.
Every year John lost something. One year, he lost the ability to run, so he couldn’t play sports with the other kids. Another year he could no longer walk straight, so all he could do was watch others play. He lost the ability to do all the outward things that we think of that make us human. Eventually, he even lost the ability to speak….
John Gilbert suffered far more than what most of us can imagine during those years. Groups of students humiliated him because of his condition and because he had to bring a trained dog to school to help him. A bully used to torture him in the lunchroom where there were no supervising teachers. No one ever stood up for him; maybe they were afraid for themselves; who knows?
Once John was invited to a fundraising auction. When it began, one item in particular caught John’s eye: a basketball signed by the players of the Sacramento Kings professional team. John so desperately wanted that ball that when it came up for bid, he felt his hand raise up in the air. Not having the funds to participate, John’s mother quickly brought it back down.
They watched the bidding go up and up and up. It rose to an astounding amount compared to the value of the ball and especially compared to other items at the auction. Finally, a man made a bid that no one else could possibly match, and he won the prize.
The man walked to the front and claimed the basketball. But instead of going back to his seat, the man walked across the room and gently placed it into the thin, small hands of the boy who had desired it so strongly. The man put that ball into hands that would never dribble a ball down a court, never throw it to a teammate, never fire it from the foul line. But those hands would cherish it for as long as they lived.
"It took me a moment to realize what the man had done," John writes. "I remember hearing gasps all around the room, then thunderous applause and weeping eyes. To this day I’m amazed…”
For John Gilbert, that was a sacramental moment. Through the generosity of one man, God’s presence and love was made real to John.
In our text, David could easily have thanked his valiant warriors for risking their lives to bring him water. He could have patted them on the back, honored them before the other troops, or even paid them handsomely. He could have promised them positions of authority when he finally did become king. But David realized—and it is a wise and sensitive person who can do so—that there was more to this moment that just courage. It was about much more than drinking water. It was an opportunity to stand in the midst of God’s grace, to share together in something profound. It was an opportunity to be bound together in a way only they could recognize but could not fully understand. David created a special, holy moment between him and his three closest warriors—a time where the divine touched the mortal and life vibrated with the nearness of God.
In the same way, as we celebrate the sacrament of Holy Communion, we are bound together—with one another, with the church past, present, and future, with Christ himself—in a way we can recognize but we don’t fully understand. At a rough table in an upper room in Jerusalem, two thousand years ago, Jesus took the opportunity to create a sacramental moment. With bread and wine, he symbolized the sacrifice he would make on the cross. The King-Who-No-One-Recognized was broken and poured out for you, for me, for all the world. And he invites us to his table and welcomes us with love.
As we come to receive the elements, I ask you to reflect upon your own spiritual journey. What have been the sacramental moments in your journey? When and where have you been conscious of standing in the midst of God’s grace? When have you touched the holiness of God, and experienced his grace in a powerful, mysterious, life-changing way?
Tonight can be such a moment. A sacramental moment between you and Jesus. He is poured out for you. Come with glad and repentant hearts and receive him.
