Returning to the Water
This sermon explores the deep human experience of thirst—both physical and spiritual—through the stories of Israel in the wilderness and Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well. Our lives are shaped by the sources from which we draw, and we’re invited to consider what our daily practices reveal about our trust, fear, and hope. God’s living water flows through even the most broken of places.
The Glimpses of Grace podcast is a ministry of Grace Episcopal Church in Gainesville, Georgia. We are passionate about supporting the spiritual growth of souls, and we hope these sermons and conversations meet you where you are and enrich your soul as we all continue to make meaning in the world today.
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Transcript
Over the past year, a phrase keeps returning to us:
Our lives are our practice.
Not just what we believe.
Not just what we say.
But what we do, day after day—
what we forgive, what we hold,
how we speak, how we love—
our lives are our practice.
On Lent 1 we began the season by returning to the soil.
We heard again that ancient truth spoken on Ash Wednesday: from dust we came, to dust we will return.
The garden reminds us that we are creatures of the earth—
finite, interdependent, living within limits. Asking together:
What is my life practicing? Who is my life shaping?
Today the story carries us from soil to water.
Water is everywhere in the story of life.
Before the first seed pushes through soil,
before any creature takes a breath,
there must be water.
Water moves through all of creation—
oceans, rivers, rain, clouds, bodies.
Life flows because water flows.
But today’s stories aren’t just about water,
they are stories about thirst.
In Exodus, the people of Israel are wandering through the wilderness. And the text tells us plainly what happened there.
They quarreled with Moses.
They complained against Moses.
And the cry that rises up from camp is:
“Give us water.”
They are thirsty.
Their bodies ache with thirst.
Their children are thirsty.
Their animals are thirsty.
And thirst has a way of bringing things to the surface.
When we are thirsty enough, patience vanishes.
Fear bubbles up. Trust is questioned. Panic arises.
“Why did you bring us out of Egypt,
to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?”
Soon the place will carry two names:
Massah — testing.
Meribah — quarreling.
Because thirst has exposed something deep.
Yes, their bodies are thirsty. But their spirits are uncertain.
The real question in the arguing is:
“Is the Lord among us or not?”
Centuries later…another thirsty moment:
Jesus is traveling through Samaria and stops at Jacob’s well.
It is noon. The sun is hot. The air is dry.
And when a woman approaches to draw water: “Give me a drink,” Jesus says. Just like the cry in the wilderness:
“Give us water.” “Give me a drink.”
But beside the well, something begins to deepen.
The talk of water becomes layered.
From water in the well to
a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.
Living water.
A deeper flow of life.
If soil reminds us that we are creatures of the earth,
water reminds us that we are interconnected.
Water is never still.
It moves. It flows. It circulates.
The same water that fills rivers rises into clouds,
falls again as rain, moves through soil, root systems, bodies.
Life is a great web of water moving through the world.
We come into the world carried by a deep, sustaining flow of water.
But the wilderness does something to the people of Israel.
Desert makes them feel cut off from life.
Cut off from abundance. Cut off from security. Cut off from God. And when people feel cut off from life,
we begin to quarrel.
We complain. We blame.
“Give us water.”
When life feels dry—
when hope is scattered in fragments,
when the world feels uncertain—
we wonder,
“Is God among us or not?”
At a well in Samaria, Jesus meets one who also knows something about thirst. Not just physical thirst. But the deeper thirst of a complicated life. Talk of water becomes
speaking about truth,
and then life, the places where a person’s story runs deep.
“The water that I give will become a spring of water.”
A spring. Alive. Flowing. Always moving outward.
In Exodus, God tells Moses to strike the rock.
And from the dry stone, water flows.
Life appears in a very unlikely place.
Jesus reveals that the deeper life of God is already flowing—
even through the broken places.
The living water of God flows through deserts, rocks, people.
What is my life practicing?
What is my life drawing from?
Our practices are shaped by our sources.
If we keep drawing from fear,
our lives will practice fear.
If we draw from anger,
our lives will practice anger.
If we draw from scarcity…
But a deeper well promises abundance.
A deeper flow of life that God keeps offering the world.
Living water.
The lengthy story in John’s Gospel ends with something beautiful. The woman leaves her water jar behind.
She runs back because she has a story to tell.
And the water begins to flow outward.
Others come. Others listen. The life of God begins moving, flowing.
In Lent we return to the deep sources of life.
Yes, there is a lot of noise, fear.
We get thirsty, our throats feel dry.
Yet, there is still a well. Still a spring.
The invitation is simple—
Someone is learning how to trust God by watching how you trust God. Someone is learning how to love by watching how you love.
Someone is discovering living water through the quiet flow of your life.
What is my life practicing?
Who is my life shaping?
Our lives are our practice.
The God who formed us from the soil
still draws living water
from the deepest parts of our heart.
Amen.