Drenched
Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent

            Water is vital to life, yet often taken for granted. Unless and until one chances upon a production like The Riot and the Dance, a documentary which combines scientific facts with theological reverence.
           The second episode in the series,  “Water,” opens with ocean views, riveting music and a resonant voice declaring water’s ability to carry ships, flood cities and, when pressurized, cut through stone like a child’s finger through a piece of cake.
           "Water never stops moving," intones the narrator. "Water is everywhere."
            In today’s gospel passage, you and I, eavesdrop on a conversation that ripples across the shaft of an ancient well. A woman arrives to draw water for drinking, cooking and doing her laundry—even though it is her soul that needs cleansing. She is convinced that no amount of scrubbing will ever restore its innocence.
            We know her story, a tale of betrayal and abandonment, one that dredges up sad memories of our own. But, despite the tragic details, do not lose focus on the water. It’s role is vital.
            Why? Because water never dies. It might evaporate but its molecules continue to exist. According to the narrator of The Riot and the Dance, this means that the molecules of water that spilled from the body of Christ on the Cross are still present some place, somewhere in the world today, falling on a window pane, moistening an eye, washing a gully, drenching a field of wheat.
            Amazing!
            And what is equally amazing is this: What is true of the water that spilled from Christ’s side is also true of the water in Jacob’s well and the water in the Pool of Siloam and the water that washed the apostles’ feet in the Upper Room. Most amazing of all, it applies to the water that flowed across your own skin on the day of your baptism, the moment that you were joined forever to Him.
            That water never dies. Baptismal water drenches the earth.
            Holy water. Not only present in the fonts at the doors of this church, but running down the cheek of your little girl who is crying because she is afraid of the dark!
            Holy water. Not just floating in baptismal fonts in churches around the globe, but flowing down your neck and shoulders each time you take a shower, glistening on a glass of sweet tea on your grandma’s porch, shimmering on a farm pond after a summertime storm, swaying in the surging spray that sprinkles your lawn
            Water. Holy water.
            Not simply in a Samaritan well, but inside your home, inside your body, inside your blood, binding you to Christ, a spring of living water leaping up to eternal life.
            You and I, who swim in this water, will never drown. You and I, who drink this water, will never despair. You and I, who bathe in this water…become brand new!