I Thirst
Sermon
A Cry from the Cross
Sermons on the Seven Last Words of Christ
Object:
After this, when Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfill the scripture), "I am thirsty." A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So they put a sponge full of the wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth.
-- John 19:28-29
Parched lips! Dry throat! Difficulty breathing! Jesus hangs from a cross and cries out: "I thirst!"
We've all known what it's like to be thirsty. It could be a long race, a difficult hike, a long conversation, or maybe it's the recovery from surgery. Your throat burns and all you can think of is getting something to drink, something, anything that will soothe the ache you feel in your throat. It really doesn't matter what kind of liquid it is, as long as it soothes the throat for a moment.
There's no way to really know the depth of Jesus' experience of thirst, but after six or seven hours in the sun, with nothing to drink, surely he was suffering from severe dehydration. When thinking about it, we don't really know how long it had been since he last had something to drink. It was probably at dinner the night before, when he gathered in the room with his disciples to celebrate Passover. But it wasn't just the sun; Jesus was also hanging from a cross, his wrists and ankles pierced by nails. His body must have been quickly losing the fluids that sustained his energy, and so the end had to be drawing near.
As we consider the depth of this thirst, the words of the psalmist come to mind. The psalmist speaks of a different kind of thirst, a thirst that's not physical but is instead spiritual.
As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
-- Psalm 42:1
This is a thirst that neither Mountain Dew nor Crystal Springs can quench. Though Jesus was experiencing a very real and physical thirst for liquid, there is no denying this truth: His was more than simply physical thirst. The spiritual dimension of his thirst included, and yet transcended, the physical nature of his thirst. His was a thirst that could only truly be quenched by the living water, water that flows from the heart of God.
This fifth word is a simple one. It's short and to the point. It speaks of something we can all understand and identify with. It's a sign of his humanity and of frailty. After he'd spent hours trying to breathe, his remaining strength was quickly ebbing and he must have begun to realize that only a few more breaths were possible. At that very moment, Jesus cried out to anyone who would listen, but most of all to the Father, "I thirst." Yes, it's simple, but it's also profound.
Perhaps as we hear these words from Jesus' lips, our minds travel back to a conversation at a well in Samaria. On that day as well, Jesus had been thirsty, and so he asked a woman standing by the well for a drink. Now this woman was Samaritan, which made her a despised woman, since Jews and Samaritans were ancient enemies and rivals. So in making this request for a drink of water, Jesus crossed a boundary -- one that is ethnically and culturally defined. He crossed another boundary, because it was not deemed proper for a man to talk with a woman, especially a woman who wasn't part of his family or tribe. Their conversation quickly moved from a request for a drink of water to a theological debate. It moved from the physical to the spiritual, because we're all subject to spiritual dehydration, making it necessary for us to drink from the sustaining waters of God.
Jesus began his conversation with the woman by asking her for a drink of water from the village well to quench his physical thirst. But, before long Jesus offered her the opportunity to drink from a well whose waters would satisfy her thirst forever. The Samaritan woman was quite proud of her village's well. After all, it was supposed to have once belonged to the revered patriarch, Jacob. But as happy as she was with this well of hers, she was equally open to hearing about a well that would satisfy her thirst forever. If she could just take one drink that would forever satisfy her thirst, then she wouldn't have to make the long lonely trek to the well to acquire her water. This was an enticing thought, because by her own admission she was an outcast in her own community. Every time she went to the well, she put herself at risk of being harassed.
The woman did what we so often do, she took him literally. She couldn't catch the metaphor, the spiritual side of the conversation. What she heard was -- just a drop or two, and I'll never have to go to the well to gather water. But Jesus was speaking to matters of the heart. The drink he offered her would satisfy the cries of her soul, because it's the soul that longs to drink from a "spring of water gushing up to eternal life" (John 4:1-15).
There are, of course, two kinds of thirst, one that's physical and the other that's spiritual. The man who was nailed to the cross on Golgotha's summit experienced both. Yes, both the body and the spirit are crying out, "I thirst!" With his voice now barely audible to the crowd at the foot of his cross, he cried out in the hope that someone might take pity on him and quench this physical thirst of his. But, he was also crying out to God, hoping that God would quench the spirit's deep thirst as well. Water yes, but more importantly, he cried out for living water.
This is the paradox of the cross: The very one who offers us living water is now crying out to us, asking us to quench his thirst. How can this be, that the one who would offer us living water needs us to give him a cup of water? This is the foolishness of the cross and why it's a stumbling block to Jew and Gentile (1 Corinthians 1:22-24). If we hear the double meaning of this cry from the cross then we must understand that the God who is the author of all things is on the cross suffering with us. We want a God who is powerful. We want a Savior who will be strong for us. Now we find that the Savior is thirsty. He is weak and we must now be strong for him. Though we want him to provide for our needs, here he's asking us to provide for his needs.
Yet, it is to this one who is crying out for our help that we must turn to find our rest and the satisfaction of our thirst for God. As Saint Augustine famously wrote: "Our hearts are restless until they rest in you." There is a restlessness in our hearts, it's a restlessness that pushes us toward God. It's somewhere deep within us. It's a longing that nothing seems to satisfy. But maybe the living water that comes from God will do the job. We go looking to and fro trying to find peace in our souls, but no matter where we turn, we can't seem to find what we're looking for. As we pass by the cross, it doesn't occur to us that we should look to the one who hangs from the cross for assistance. He might need my help, so how can he help me? Yes, we want a strong God, a triumphant God, so surely this man isn't the one who will bring rest to our hearts.
We want to look elsewhere, but for some reason, we stop to consider this man hanging on the cross. We know that our own thirst won't be assuaged until we drink from the springs of heaven, until we experience first hand the touch of the Spirit. We're turned off by the sights and sounds of the moment. This can't be the one who will satisfy our own thirst. And yet this is the one who says to us: "Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink." Yes, for out of the heart of the believer will "flow rivers of living water" (John 7:37 ff).
Someone milling around Golgotha heard his weary voice and sensing the need of the moment, grabbed a branch of hyssop, dipped it into a bowl of sour wine, and placed it on his lips. It wasn't much, but it gave him strength to utter a further word.
In another gospel, Jesus speaks of the day of judgment, and on that day Jesus will say to the righteous:
"I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me." Then the righteous will answer him, "Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?" And the king will answer them, "Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family you did it to me."
-- Matthew 25:35-40
What does it mean to give him something to drink when he is in need? How can we quench his thirst? Jesus says to us, "You do this for me when you take care of the least of these my children." Though someone, maybe a disciple, maybe his mother, maybe even a soldier standing at the foot of the cross, reached out in an effort to relieve his thirst, Jesus had already told us how we could quench his thirst. His thirst would be quenched only when we reach out and touch the least of his brothers and sisters, the members of his human family -- our human family.
In our own thirst, we seek out the one who offers living water, and as we drink of this water, we find that the love of God begins to flow from us. Having tasted the living water, which is, in truth, a relationship with the living God, we reach out and we touch the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, with the love of God.
And then Jesus thirsts no more!
-- John 19:28-29
Parched lips! Dry throat! Difficulty breathing! Jesus hangs from a cross and cries out: "I thirst!"
We've all known what it's like to be thirsty. It could be a long race, a difficult hike, a long conversation, or maybe it's the recovery from surgery. Your throat burns and all you can think of is getting something to drink, something, anything that will soothe the ache you feel in your throat. It really doesn't matter what kind of liquid it is, as long as it soothes the throat for a moment.
There's no way to really know the depth of Jesus' experience of thirst, but after six or seven hours in the sun, with nothing to drink, surely he was suffering from severe dehydration. When thinking about it, we don't really know how long it had been since he last had something to drink. It was probably at dinner the night before, when he gathered in the room with his disciples to celebrate Passover. But it wasn't just the sun; Jesus was also hanging from a cross, his wrists and ankles pierced by nails. His body must have been quickly losing the fluids that sustained his energy, and so the end had to be drawing near.
As we consider the depth of this thirst, the words of the psalmist come to mind. The psalmist speaks of a different kind of thirst, a thirst that's not physical but is instead spiritual.
As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
-- Psalm 42:1
This is a thirst that neither Mountain Dew nor Crystal Springs can quench. Though Jesus was experiencing a very real and physical thirst for liquid, there is no denying this truth: His was more than simply physical thirst. The spiritual dimension of his thirst included, and yet transcended, the physical nature of his thirst. His was a thirst that could only truly be quenched by the living water, water that flows from the heart of God.
This fifth word is a simple one. It's short and to the point. It speaks of something we can all understand and identify with. It's a sign of his humanity and of frailty. After he'd spent hours trying to breathe, his remaining strength was quickly ebbing and he must have begun to realize that only a few more breaths were possible. At that very moment, Jesus cried out to anyone who would listen, but most of all to the Father, "I thirst." Yes, it's simple, but it's also profound.
Perhaps as we hear these words from Jesus' lips, our minds travel back to a conversation at a well in Samaria. On that day as well, Jesus had been thirsty, and so he asked a woman standing by the well for a drink. Now this woman was Samaritan, which made her a despised woman, since Jews and Samaritans were ancient enemies and rivals. So in making this request for a drink of water, Jesus crossed a boundary -- one that is ethnically and culturally defined. He crossed another boundary, because it was not deemed proper for a man to talk with a woman, especially a woman who wasn't part of his family or tribe. Their conversation quickly moved from a request for a drink of water to a theological debate. It moved from the physical to the spiritual, because we're all subject to spiritual dehydration, making it necessary for us to drink from the sustaining waters of God.
Jesus began his conversation with the woman by asking her for a drink of water from the village well to quench his physical thirst. But, before long Jesus offered her the opportunity to drink from a well whose waters would satisfy her thirst forever. The Samaritan woman was quite proud of her village's well. After all, it was supposed to have once belonged to the revered patriarch, Jacob. But as happy as she was with this well of hers, she was equally open to hearing about a well that would satisfy her thirst forever. If she could just take one drink that would forever satisfy her thirst, then she wouldn't have to make the long lonely trek to the well to acquire her water. This was an enticing thought, because by her own admission she was an outcast in her own community. Every time she went to the well, she put herself at risk of being harassed.
The woman did what we so often do, she took him literally. She couldn't catch the metaphor, the spiritual side of the conversation. What she heard was -- just a drop or two, and I'll never have to go to the well to gather water. But Jesus was speaking to matters of the heart. The drink he offered her would satisfy the cries of her soul, because it's the soul that longs to drink from a "spring of water gushing up to eternal life" (John 4:1-15).
There are, of course, two kinds of thirst, one that's physical and the other that's spiritual. The man who was nailed to the cross on Golgotha's summit experienced both. Yes, both the body and the spirit are crying out, "I thirst!" With his voice now barely audible to the crowd at the foot of his cross, he cried out in the hope that someone might take pity on him and quench this physical thirst of his. But, he was also crying out to God, hoping that God would quench the spirit's deep thirst as well. Water yes, but more importantly, he cried out for living water.
This is the paradox of the cross: The very one who offers us living water is now crying out to us, asking us to quench his thirst. How can this be, that the one who would offer us living water needs us to give him a cup of water? This is the foolishness of the cross and why it's a stumbling block to Jew and Gentile (1 Corinthians 1:22-24). If we hear the double meaning of this cry from the cross then we must understand that the God who is the author of all things is on the cross suffering with us. We want a God who is powerful. We want a Savior who will be strong for us. Now we find that the Savior is thirsty. He is weak and we must now be strong for him. Though we want him to provide for our needs, here he's asking us to provide for his needs.
Yet, it is to this one who is crying out for our help that we must turn to find our rest and the satisfaction of our thirst for God. As Saint Augustine famously wrote: "Our hearts are restless until they rest in you." There is a restlessness in our hearts, it's a restlessness that pushes us toward God. It's somewhere deep within us. It's a longing that nothing seems to satisfy. But maybe the living water that comes from God will do the job. We go looking to and fro trying to find peace in our souls, but no matter where we turn, we can't seem to find what we're looking for. As we pass by the cross, it doesn't occur to us that we should look to the one who hangs from the cross for assistance. He might need my help, so how can he help me? Yes, we want a strong God, a triumphant God, so surely this man isn't the one who will bring rest to our hearts.
We want to look elsewhere, but for some reason, we stop to consider this man hanging on the cross. We know that our own thirst won't be assuaged until we drink from the springs of heaven, until we experience first hand the touch of the Spirit. We're turned off by the sights and sounds of the moment. This can't be the one who will satisfy our own thirst. And yet this is the one who says to us: "Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink." Yes, for out of the heart of the believer will "flow rivers of living water" (John 7:37 ff).
Someone milling around Golgotha heard his weary voice and sensing the need of the moment, grabbed a branch of hyssop, dipped it into a bowl of sour wine, and placed it on his lips. It wasn't much, but it gave him strength to utter a further word.
In another gospel, Jesus speaks of the day of judgment, and on that day Jesus will say to the righteous:
"I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me." Then the righteous will answer him, "Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?" And the king will answer them, "Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family you did it to me."
-- Matthew 25:35-40
What does it mean to give him something to drink when he is in need? How can we quench his thirst? Jesus says to us, "You do this for me when you take care of the least of these my children." Though someone, maybe a disciple, maybe his mother, maybe even a soldier standing at the foot of the cross, reached out in an effort to relieve his thirst, Jesus had already told us how we could quench his thirst. His thirst would be quenched only when we reach out and touch the least of his brothers and sisters, the members of his human family -- our human family.
In our own thirst, we seek out the one who offers living water, and as we drink of this water, we find that the love of God begins to flow from us. Having tasted the living water, which is, in truth, a relationship with the living God, we reach out and we touch the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, with the love of God.
And then Jesus thirsts no more!
