Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Living Waters

On the last day of the festival, the great day, while Jesus was standing there, he cried out, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.'” Now he said this about the Spirit, which believers in him were to receive; for as yet there was no Spirit, because Jesus was not yet glorified.
When they heard these words, some in the crowd said, “This is really the prophet.” Others said, “This is the Messiah.” But some asked, “Surely the Messiah does not come from Galilee, does he? Has not the scripture said that the Messiah is descended from David and comes from Bethlehem, the village where David lived?” So there was a division in the crowd because of him. Some of them wanted to arrest him, but no one laid hands on him.
Then the temple police went back to the chief priests and Pharisees, who asked them, “Why did you not arrest him?” The police answered, “Never has anyone spoken like this!” Then the Pharisees replied, “Surely you have not been deceived too, have you? Has any one of the authorities or of the Pharisees believed in him? But this crowd, which does not know the law—they are accursed.” Nicodemus, who had gone to Jesus before, and who was one of them, asked, “Our law does not judge people without first giving them a hearing to find out what they are doing, does it?” They replied, “Surely you are not also from Galilee, are you? Search and you will see that no prophet is to arise from Galilee.” John 7:37-52 

Living Waters

This cold march Atlantic seems so dead
harsh winds bend us over running for home
the birds circle around and cry out loud
life at a standstill as lifeless as a graveyard.

Beneath the deep gray waters churns new life
we cannot see it but it knows us very well
it sings in the deep where we cannot hear it
life sings new life despite all of our fears.

When broken by life and painful circunstances
we face down towards the cold impersonal ground
we fail to see life reaching out through the snow
readying to burst forth against all the deafening odds.

Water is moving, flowing churning even this very day
rebuilding the spirit that has been spent, the broken reed
distilling new life from the cold heart and shattered hopes
reigniting us, lifting us, planting us on warm fertile ground.

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