John 7:37-39
Background: “Although not mentioned often in
the New Testament, the Festival of Tabernacles was one of the “big three”
annual festivals (along with Passover and Pentecost) for which adult Jewish
males were expected to make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and it was generally
the most joyous and popular of the three. Originally a harvest celebration, by
the time of Jesus it had also taken on the significance of remembering God’s
provision for the people of Israel
during their wilderness wanderings. Water ceremonies were an important part of
this celebration. A priest would draw water from the pool of Siloam with a
golden pitcher, then carry it back to the temple and pour it into a silver bowl
next to the altar, accompanied by musicians and choirs. As the priest poured
out the water he would pray to the Lord to send rain. In some rabbinic
traditions, the water-drawing of Tabernacles is interpreted as the drawing of
the Holy Spirit.” http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2046
John 7:37-39
On the last day of the festival, the great day, while Jesus
was standing there, he cried out, "Let anyone who is thirsty come to me,
and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, 'Out of
the believer's heart shall flow rivers of living water.'" Now he said this
about the Spirit, which believers in him were to receive.
***
Like the temple priest, as your pastor, I have the privilege
of standing by the rivers of living water with you. I watch in awe, as the Holy
Spirit flows, mighty and strong, from the faith of your lives. In this church,
you have rolled away one another’s stones and boulders, that a Powder River of care might be but a tributary to a
greater faith. You have carved canyons through your community through both your
public service and private acts of care, that a Snake
River of might join with others in a confluence of Christian
service. You have traveled, as have your spiritual gifts, and become like the Columbia, so wide, and so grande, that a greatness beyond
itself it witnessed as a river of living water moves to the sea of God.
I cannot hold the Pacific in a golden pitcher, nor can I pour the ocean in a
bowl, but I can take a small vessel, fill it, and carry it back to this pulpit,
and pray my words pour out before you as water for the thirsty, that you may
see but a drop of the Spirit at work in your heart.
On the last day of the festival, middle schoolers and
volunteers arrived in droves, so much so, that someone quipped that LaVonne and
Gary must have ridden the school bus, as they were shuffled in by the heard of
students eagerly approaching the counter. I watched Shannon Moon and
another volunteer actually serve up plates with not only smiles, but also with
the names of each student, the laughter of knowing them well, and the nostalgia
of catching up after a week and saying goodbye for a summer. I thought, this
atmosphere is what every McDonalds, Denny’s, Lone Pine, and Sumpter
Junction business model wants, but it is only what can be achieved through the
passion of a calling, and the ministry to those in need. Around the table,
heaping plates of eggs, hash browns, english muffins, ham, cheese, cereal,
sausage and smoothies were practically speaking that which would spoil, but
symbolically the plethora of food was really a culmination of the last day
of festival of Open Door after a plentiful harvest season. Let anyone
who is thirsty come to me, out of the believers heart shall flower rivers of
living water
On the last day of the festival, that great day, a
stumpy, smiley eighth grader, Carlos, passed around his container for
the day’s Egg Drop Contest. From the top of the fire truck’s reach Carlos’
after thought of a plastic jar air freshener, half full of, overly fragrant,
apple cinnamon gel beads, would be dropped and surely make a gooey mess of
splattered raw egg and hot pick ooze. Carlos planned to add some cotton balls
upon arrival at school, but even with my prompting, was not exceedingly
interested in the engineering and rather enjoyed offering others sniffs of the
candy scented container. Our own Evan, proudly opened up a black messenger bag
briefcase, full of his grandmother’s manilla colored upholstery foam.
Describing its rarity in middle school circles, and its brilliance in eggs
tests, he stuffed the material bag in his bag as if it were contraband. Later,
as the students bustled off to school, I noticed Carlos’ air freshener, held
tight in his hand, a now pink and manilla gel/foam combination, of forethought
and collective wisdom. Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and and let the
one who believes in me drink. Out of the believer's heart shall flow rivers of
living water.’
On the last day of the festival, that great day,
Carlos had also brought a bright pink megaphone, which may have
garnered sneers outside of Open Door, but Sam Sullivan picked it up
and used it to corral the students and volunteers for the newspapers’ picture.
Somehow she made the megaphone more coveted then confrontational. She then
walked around making sure each student could be seen, calling them by name to
scoot one way or another, telling the kid laying down in front of the group
just how to position himself in that center, ‘look at me spot,’ He was one I
had to redirect earlier from some disruptive behavior, and was most likely not
whom the school wanted to in the limelight of the newspaper, but Sam, despite
this, or perhaps because of this, recognized his need for some extra attention,
and so she helped, not worrying about her own place in the picture until all
were ready. She was Jesus was standing there, crying out, "Let anyone
who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. I
later texted Sam, how I saw God in her that morning, to which she responded,
“Thanks, I prayed this morning for God to talk through me and touch a child.” As
the scripture has said, 'Out of the believer's heart shall flow rivers of
living water.'"
On the last day of the festival, the great day, while
Jesus was standing there, down at Backpack, the same plethora of food
greeted us with tables full, which led to plastic bags barely able to be tied,
and as we were tying them little paper gifts of coupons to Charlie’s Ice Cream
were slipped in by Eth Carr, like a cherry on top. Likewise, the
group chatted and caught up, and smiled, not from a last day of work, for they
all came back to clean the stock room, but from a festival at its peak and a
river of living water. Out of the believer's heart shall flow rivers of
living water.’
On the last day of the festival, the great day, while
Jesus was standing there, the Safety Policy Committee met again to tweak
some of its final procedures. Having met for at least two years, and dozens of
drafts and amendments, the Child Protection Policy was now functional. Throughout
its many iterations questions had been raised, often with the
response, of another question, “If this was Maddie and Alex, what would we do?”
This question brought policy into practicality, and purpose into providing for
loving protection. That night around my kitchen table, Maddie and Alex ate with
the committee. After Alex asked to sit by, the merely more familiar, me,
Melissa encouraged them, “Do you know whose Mom that is? Ma-Kourtney’s
So, do you think she is nice?” Over dinner, Nanette and Bob and Mark, all
engaged the kids, and I watched the group again live into its baptismal promise
to nurture these children in faith with love. With each Child Protection Policy
amendment, and each dinner table question to the kids,’Out of the believer's
heart flowed rivers of living water.'"
The great day, while Jesus was standing there, during
Committee Meeting Night, Trisha and I would have wondered about how to pick
hymns without the ability to read music, but Katya came singing and reading
hymns. "Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who
believes in me drink. 'Out of the believer's heart shall flow rivers of living
water.'"
During the Mission Committee Meeting, I watched in awe while
two topics that could have resulted in people taking sides, instead was
approached in partnership and support. "Let anyone who is thirsty come
to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. 'Out of the believer's heart
shall flow rivers of living water.'"
Then, going upstairs, I found the Christian Ed. table
covered in pictures, scrapbooking scissors and the committee joined around
them, not only meeting, but telling memories of the ministry they share, and
the prayers of their concern. The mess of the table echoed the fellowship in
the room, as Out of the believer's heart shall flow rivers of living
water.’"
The great day, while Jesus was standing there, Jake
and Silas shared a chair in the fellowship hall, and sitting on its not so much
for room but with anticipation about the Youth Dinner Theatre going on before
them, Jake turned to Silas and said, “This is so funny!” Out of the
believer's heart shall flow rivers of living water.’"
On the last day of the festival, the great day, during
our Church Work Day, Jason and Greg tightened up the playground, while
Travis Talbot and Annalea worked together on the sanctuary doors, and Dr. Bob
showed me the tool which measures the top of our steeple by
an isosceles triangle. Out of the believer's heart shall flow
rivers of living water.’"
On the last day of the festival, the great day,
Kate’s parents brought an amazing meal to youth group, and surprised Kate with
a cake and candles and her friends singing her the song. Downstairs in the
basement, our youth group had created such community that the PYG pen had
became a place meaningful enough to celebrate the bounty of a life. Out of
the believer's heart shall flow rivers of living water.’"
In our scripture, the pilgrims to which Jesus speaks, have
joyfully journeyed from their homes, to come to this celebration. As a
congregation we have journeyed from the High Holy Seasons of Advent with its
Children’s Pageant WSG cookie gatherings, Longest Nights, and a
candle lit Silent Night. To Epiphany's with wise men and All Church
Ski Days, to a Lent of Tone chimes and Joint Worship Services with the
Methodist Church. We have moved to Easter with Egg Hunts and fabulous brunches,
to an Eastertide of Youth Auctions, and Ginger Rembold preaching Earth Day, and
now like those pilgrims we are at Pentecost. I cannot name all the work of the
Holy Spirit on our journey. Instead, I have taken merely the water that I could
carry in this small pitcher, and it is simply a week and only my view, rather
than a collective. I pour it out before you knowing I cannot carry the Ocean of God, of which we are all a part. I
cannot name the volumes in the Columbia,
nor the turns along the Snake, or even each source of the Powder, but I pour
out before you a river of living water, the Holy Spirit in our midst. May it
quench your thirst, and may you drink, for from you flow rivers of living
water.
