Last week we began exploring the theme of thirst together. As we did, I said that I would talk a bit more this week about what had prompted me to start thinking that this might me something that would be good for us to look at and think about at the beginning of this year.
Last summer I was at New Wine, and each morning there was a reflective communion service, quite low key and gentle for folk who wanted to have a bit of space at the start of the day. At one of these services we had the reading that we’ve heard this morning from John’s eye witness account of Jesus’ life and ministry, describing the circumstances of Jesus’ death.
Over the last twelve months or so, I have been exploring a way of praying that comes out of the Ignation tradition. One aspect of this is to spend time imagining yourself in a situation that is described in the Bible, to think about the sights and sounds, the smells and sensations of what it was like. To be attentive to the emotions of those around you, and any feelings that come up in your own mind and heart. This can then be extended to having a conversation with Jesus about that situation, and your responses to it, perhaps even asking how he experienced it.
So, with all this bubbling away in the back of my mind, there I was, sat in this slightly draughty big top at New Wine, listening to this account of Jesus’ death. As I heard it, I felt like my focus was drawn to that phrase of Jesus, “I am thirsty.” Now, there was a speaker that morning, sharing their thoughts on the passage. I have to confess that I didn’t listen to a word they said. I was having a bit of a moment with Jesus.
It may very well be the same for you this morning. I am going to continue to offer some of my thoughts and reflections, but if the Holy Spirit was drawn your attention to something else, and you feel like it’ll be more profitable for you to spend some time reflecting on that, then please feel free to do so.
For those who are coming with me, I invite you to imagine yourself on that hillside just outside Jerusalem. You might find it helps to close your eyes. It’s noon, the sun is high and hot. It’s dusty underfoot. You can hear the hustle and bustle of the city going about its daily business. There are crowds of people, some crying, some, shouting, some silent. There are groans of pain coming from the three men hanging from the crosses. Perhaps there is laughter or swearing from the soldiers at their dice game. You can smell blood.
What is catching your attention? What emotions can you sense from those around you, in yourself?
Three hours pass.
Jesus lifts his head and says, “I am thirsty.”
The one who had said “whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”
and
“Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.” was himself thirsty.
He was physically thirsty. You’ve been standing in the early afternoon sun for three hours, dust kicked up by the feet of the crowd around you. Be attentive to your own body. How are you feeling? Pretty thirsty? Jesus has been under the same sun, breathing the same dust, but has also been losing blood, has been sweating under the load of the cross and the pain of the beatings. He must be absolutely parched. It’s not the first time that we’ve seen Jesus thirsty. We might remember the encounter with the Samaritan women at the well, when he asked her for a drink because he was thirsty. Jesus was a real, solid, flesh and blood human being. His body had the same needs and limitations that ours do. He got physically thirsty.
More than this, Jesus was spiritually and emotionally thirsty. I wonder if the words of Psalm 69 were running through Jesus’ mind as he looked down and saw the jar of vinegar at the foot of the cross. He would have known it by heart. I wonder if the words resonated with his own experience – scorned, disgraced and shamed, his heart broken as he was left helpless.
Surely he would have been thirsty for love, comfort, hope, deliverance from his enemies. Thirsty for God’s goodness and mercy, for a sight of God’s face which seemed to be hidden. In Mark’s account of Jesus death we read that Jesus cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” That seems to me to be a cry of deepest emotional and spiritual thirst.
So, why did Jesus put himself through all this? Why did he leave the glory of heaven, and come and live among us as one of us? Why did he die like this? Why did he allow himself to experience this physical thirst, this emotional thirst, this spiritual thirst? Why did he put himself in this position?
Why did he do this things? Because of his deepest thirst. Jesus’ deepest thirst was to do the will of his Father in heaven, which was to show us how much God loves us. As we read earlier in John’s writings, “God loved the world in this way, that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”
On that cross Jesus was thirsty for us. In both senses. He chose to be thirsty so that our deepest thirsts could be quenched. He was thirsty on our behalf. He was thirsty for us. Why? Because he was thirsty for us. His deepest desire was and is to free us so that we can love him and know that we are loved by him, to live life in all its fulness with him.
So, this morning, as we gaze on the cross, can we see Jesus’ thirst for us? What does it call from our hearts in response? Worship? Gratitude? Wonder? Thirst for him?
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