Wind, Water, Life


“My family is messed up,” is a statement I have heard more than a few times. If you have ever had it admit that, maybe you do so with not a little embarassement, anger, even a sort of twisted pride, as in, “you think you had it bad, you should have seen what it was like in my house growing up. . .” that sort of thing. Here’s one of my stories:

When I was getting ready to start college at UPJ, my mom and dad drove me out to Johnstown. My sister was starting her master’s program at Pitt-Oakland, and my parents were driving her out there after they dropped me off. The car was jam packed with our stuff. Everything was fine until we hit Cresson mountain. Then funny things started to happen with our old Chrysler. It started emitting smoke through the air vents inside the car. Then smoke started coming out from under the front hood. Soon flames appeared. Dad pulled over and we bailed out. I need to say this for you to understand - we were not the most resourceful people. And we definitely didn’t plan for emergencies like this with say, extra cash on hand. My parents didn’t own a credit card. We did have a weed eater in the trunk of the car that my mom insisted on us taking out of the car with us for fear something would happen to it. We managed to get a tow truck and convinced the driver to let us ride illegally in the back of our car as he towed us into Altoona. For a while we literally just walked up and down Pleasant Valley Blvd, passing the time, carrying our weed eater. My sister, who was more easily embarrassed than I, complained loudly. She refused to walk with us at one point, as if by separating her walk from ours by twenty yards, no one would identify her with us. Strangers wouldn’t know she belonged to this family. I think it’s safe to say we were all miserable. This went on until my dad got us a room at the Econolodge for a few hours. Again, I don’t how this happened since we had no cash and no credit card.

Have you ever wanted a new family? I wanted one that day.

In hindsight I know my parents were doing their best. Parents want to protect their children. Parents want a better life for their kids.

The story is told of a married couple, both ninety years old, been married for seventy years, who went to a lawyer to get a divorce. The lawyer asked them, “You have been married for seventy years, why get a divorce now?”

They answered, “We wanted to wait until our children had died.”

If you’re a parent, you know there is a certain logic to this.


Jesus met this woman at a well in Samaria. She probably didn’t plan on getting in a deep conversation with this Jewish man on this particular day. She certainly didn’t plan on revealing the deep secrets of her family life to him.

At one point, Jesus says to her, “Go get your husband.”

“I have no husband, right now. Although I have had five,” the woman confesses.

If there’s one thing I know, it’s that families don’t like to advertise their secrets and their flaws. This was a moment of great vulnerability and truth for this woman. There was something about Jesus that made it safe for her to reveal herself to him.

There is no mention of children here, but I think it’s safe to assume she had children to at least a couple of her past husbands. Can you imagine the web of relationships in her life as a mother, stepmother, grandmother, and friend?

I come from a family in which my parents stayed married to each other until the day my father died. They loved their kids. But I’ve hinted at the flaws in my family. Can you imagine the dysfunction and problems going on in this Samaritan woman’s family?

And yet, I’m sure she still wanted the best for her kids and for herself. She wanted to love and to be loved. The hope for a good life had not died in her. You might say she was hungering and thirsting after it.

Jesus said to her, “Those who drink of the water I give them will never be thirsty. . .it will become in them a spring gushing up to eternal life.”

Is it any wonder that these words found a receptive audience in this woman. She wanted a new family. She wanted the best for them.

Who doesn’t? One of the most important days of my life was the birth of my sons. The day they were born I gave them to God. I said, “God I don’t care whether they become successful or wealthy or whatever. I just want my sons to have a heart for you.”

There is nothing more important to me. I want to pass on to them the living faith that was given to me. I want them to love Jesus and know they are loved by him.

In fact, the Bible declares the vital importance of giving our kids faith.

“Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised; his greatness is unsearchable.
One generation shall laud your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts.” Psalm 145.3-4

“O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to all generations to come.” Psalm 71.17-18

One generation is to declare God’s goodness to the next. We’re going to talk more next week about how this is done. For now, it is enough to know that God expects this of us.

Jesus offers life like water to thirsty people, thirsty families. Baptism is the chief sign of this new life of Jesus in the life of the believer. The water is the sign of the Spirit breathing and blowing new life in us.

The first century Jews practiced baptism for people who needed spiritual and ceremonial cleansing. When a Gentile, for example, decided to become a Jew, he and all his family were baptized and all the males were circumcised. Baptism was necessary because during their life in the Gentile world they had picked up all manner of defilement. They had to be cleansed before they could begin their new lives as members of the people of God. They were baptized. Their defilements were washed away in the waters of baptism.

When John the Baptist baptized Jews, the sting was sharp and clear – all need forgiveness before a holy God at the coming of Messiah.

Messiah has come. One generation declares the Good News to the next generation. The good news is Jesus comes to us still. Jesus comes to messed up, dysfunctional families.
Like to the woman at the well, Jesus still offers to fill us to overflowing with his life-giving water.

If you have not experienced his life, maybe today is that day.
Maybe your prayer this morning should be, “Sir, give me this water.”