What Can I Get You to Drink?

2nd Sunday in Lent, 3/8/20
John 4:5-26


What Can I Get You to Drink?
I. I know you need something because your soul is parched.
II. You tend to drink things that only make you more thirsty.
III. I’m offering you living water.


Even though it seems as if common courtesy in our modern world is so often a thing of the past, there are still some that we regularly practice. And one of them is that we expect a host to offer a visitor something to drink.

I can’t think of a time when I have been in your home that you didn’t offer me that basic courtesy. Moments after I stepped inside your house or as soon as I sat down in one of your chairs, you asked, “Pastor, can I get your something to drink? A glass of water, a soft drink, or a cup of coffee?” And I appreciated that, even if I declined your offer.

And I’ve noticed that even business people do the same. Whether it’s my insurance agent or my rental car agent, as soon as I arrive in their office, they offer me a bottle of water.

Jesus does the same thing. Are you surprised that I would say such a thing? If so, let me explain. We call what we do here on Sunday mornings “worship” or a “service.” The word “service” implies that “serving” is happening. And it truly is. In fact, two kinds of service are happening. First and foremost, Jesus is serving us with his word and sacraments. There is no more important or higher service than that. In response to his serving us, we serve him with our worship and our offerings.

Today, Jesus is serving us with his word from John 4, the event in which Jesus met a woman at the well of Samaria. And as he serves us, Jesus asks, “Can I get you something to drink?” Let’s remember our manners and tell him, “Of course you can! Thank-you!” In doing so, let’s see what his offer is all about.

Part I.

Have you ever gotten into a conversation at the request of another person, and it became clear fairly soon that what they were talking about at the moment wasn’t really what they intended to talk to you about? I think most of us, if not all of us, have been in that situation. And one of our common reactions is, “I get the feeling that’s not why I’m here talking with you today. What do you really want to talk with me about?”

While that was the case on this day in the life of Jesus, that scenario didn’t play out, because Jesus was the master conversationalist and the setting was so natural. John sets it up with these words, “Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well.” Jesus was heading from Judea in the south to Galilee in the north, and he was doing so on foot, a journey of about 120 miles. He was about halfway there and stopped to rest.

And he did so at a well, which was a public place and thus a natural place for him to stop. He not only could sit down there, he could also get a drink of water. All very natural. What else would you do at a well?

And when this unnamed Samaritan woman arrives, he does the natural thing and asks her for a drink. Other than the fact—as the woman quickly points out—that Jesus is a Jew and she’s a Samaritan, this request was completely natural. This is her “home well”; Jesus is a visitor. Jesus has nothing to draw the water with. So, he does the natural thing and asks her for a drink.

But that’s not the most important thing on his mind. His request for a drink of water isn’t where he wants his conversation with her to begin and end. And he makes that clear by stating, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” Jesus knew that she needed a drink far more than he did, because her soul was parched. He knew that, because he knows all things, as he displays to her a little later. But it was also evident from her daily life that her soul was parched. She came to the well alone. In biblical times, going to the well was something that the women of the village did together every day. It was a group social event. She wasn’t part of their group. It’s likely she wasn’t welcome, and it hurt.

What’s worse, she had tried to love others, but that love wasn’t returned, at least not in a committed way. She had “tried” love five times, and each time it ended badly for her. Imagine the rejection. She had to wonder what was “wrong” with her that she was so unable to stay in a marriage. She was hurting. Her soul was parched.

Bottom line, she was broken. She was a broken woman living in a broken world. She couldn’t even succeed at human relationships. How could she find peace for her soul in a divine relationship?

We know what that’s like, don’t we? We’re broken people living in a broken world, too. Promises broken, dreams dashed, hopes unfulfilled, sometimes tragically so. We wanted our lives to be so much better, but we failed. Being honest…too often we feel like losers, not winners. Our souls are parched.

Part II.

This woman quickly and acutely felt her spiritual thirst—her parched soul—especially after Jesus revealed that he knew how broken her life was. His divine knowledge of the details of her failures clearly indicated to her that he was a prophet. So, she spoke to him of her attempts to be spiritual and quench her parched soul. She stated, “Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem.” The Samaritans were a mix of people and religions, including some tenets of the Jewish religion. As such, they realized that worshipping at the right place was important, just as the Jews did. But she asserted that her people insisted on worshipping at a different place. In other words, she tried to quench her spiritual thirst by worshipping at the right place with the right ceremonies. She thought that religion consisted in formalism.

To be honest, the Jews of Jesus’ days on earth thought the same thing. They felt compelled to bring the Lord the right sacrifices at the right place at the right time. Just obey the Jewish laws, or at least try hard to do so, and then you met the requirements. You’re good to go, spiritually speaking. It was like checking things off a spiritual “to-do” list.

Sound familiar? Maybe not at first. After all, we’re Lutherans who know that God is not pleased with such things from us outwardly if our hearts are far from him inwardly. But how often is worship merely an obligation? Is it ever something you simply decide to check off of your list of things you should be doing? Have you ever left worship and had trouble recalling what the focus of the message from God’s word was? Or, do you remember what it was, but it made no impact on how you lived your life that week? Is your confession of sins a few sentences of thoughtless words? We go through the motions and meanwhile, our souls are parched, dying for something to drink. That’s because going through the motions of worship only makes our souls more thirsty, like drinking salt water.

Part III.

Jesus knew that this woman’s soul was screaming for relief. He heard it loud and clear when she appealed to the time when the Messiah would arrive and quench her thirsty soul. And this is the spiritual water he offered, “I who speak to you am he.” If he were speaking to you and me today, he might say, “I’m that Messiah. I’m your Savior and I’m here to offer you living water.”

And that’s what he offered her, a woman who realized that her own efforts to make herself acceptable with God only drove her further into the hole of despair, only blew hot, dry air on her parched soul. She was broken, and she not only realized it, she admitted it. That’s what Jesus is looking for. He’s not impressed when we try to stand before him on our own. In fact, he detests it. That’s what the Pharisees of his day insisted on doing. Instead, as we heard on Ash Wednesday, he looks for the heart of the tax collector who stands at the back of the church, keeps his eyes glued to the floor in front of him, and implores, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

And when that’s our spiritual posture before Jesus, then he does what he desires with all his heart to do—to offer us the living water of his forgiveness and the certainty of our eternal life with him. It’s his gift to you which you do nothing to earn or receive. That’s what makes it living water. That’s why it and it alone relieves parched souls.

So, when Jesus asks, “What can I get you to drink?” ask him for his living water.

Imagine if this event had played out differently. Imagine if this woman had seen Jesus there at the well and decided she didn’t really want to go anywhere near him, at least not on that day. Imagine if Jesus had started this conversation with her and she had ended it by stating, “You know, I really have better things to do today. Maybe we can talk another time.” Imagine if Jesus had offered her living water and she had stated, “Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll stick to what I’ve been drinking.” How tragic!

But have we ever done the same thing? Have we ever determined that Jesus and the living water he offers isn’t what we’re looking for? Do we, at least for the moment, think we have other things to do and other people to spend time with? Is our attitude toward his living water one that thinks it’ll be available when we need it and have time for it, as if it were available on the shelves at Walmart or Kroger 24 hours a day? Martin Luther once referred to the gospel as a shower that is always moving. He warned the people of his day not to neglect it. Is the gospel raining in your area today? Then take it in! It’s living water! Drink as much of it as you can! It offers forgiveness for every time we’ve failed to appreciate it. It relieves parched souls. My soul. Your soul.

Jesus is asking you today, “What can I get you to drink?” Don’t hesitate to reply, “Give me your living water, please!” And receive it by faith in him. Amen.

Jesus Is Adam’s Antidote!

1st Sunday in Lent, 3/1/20
Romans 5:12-19


Jesus Is Adam’s Antidote!
I. Adam’s poison infects all people.
II. Jesus’ work saves all people.


If I were going to speak with someone who doesn’t know Jesus as their Savior from sin, I don’t think I’d use the verses of this morning’s sermon text. Although these words accurately describe how much we need a Savior and how Jesus is that Savior, I wouldn’t begin an evangelism visit with these words. And my reason? They are so hard to take. And I can think of several reasons why that’s true.

One, we pride ourselves in our independence. It’s ingrained in us as citizens of the United States of America. This text, like it or not, hammers home the truth that our sinful condition goes all the way back to Adam, and that doesn’t sit well with our independence. We’d like to think that Adam has nothing to do with our spiritual situation today.

What’s more, this text asserts that we inherited our sinfulness from our parents. And as much as we may love our parents, we’d readily declare that we’re nothing like them. We prefer to stand on our own.

Third, the words of this text simply don’t align with our sense of justice. We maintain that we’re not guilty by association. Even more so, how can we be guilty because of someone else’s crime?

So, I probably wouldn’t use them in an evangelism visit, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t true. In fact, they are God’s word which accurately informs us how we are by nature ever since Adam’s fall into sin. As the hymn states, “one common sin infects us all.” It’s the spiritual poison that’s in every one of us. That’s the news that puts us under God’s curse. But that’s where our Savior comes in, the one who is our Victor. As powerful as Adam’s sin is in every human being, more powerful is our Savior, Jesus Christ. Jesus is Adam’s antidote! This text highlights the all-pervasive nature of sin and, in doing so, highlights that all-pervasive salvation that Jesus won.

Part I.

The dreaded coronavirus. It’s the latest world-wide scourge. Some experts are already tagging it as an epidemic. The latest figures state that it has infected more than 82,000 people worldwide and has killed more than 2,800. And it’s still spreading. Travel, business and even the stock-market have been adversely affected.

But it’s nothing compared with the poison of sin. Even if the coronavirus would eventually infect 1 billion people—a staggering number—that’s still leaves several billion people healthy.

But the poison of sin infects all. Our text states, “Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all men, because all sinned.” Paul’s point is that one man sinned. We heard how it happened in today’s first lesson—through Adam’s direct disobedience of God’s command. But that sin lead to everyone’s death, not just Adam’s. Why? “Because all sinned.”

Paul states over and over again how Adam’s sin infects us all. In other places of the Bible it’s called inherited sin or original sin. It’s the sinful condition with which we come into this world. And no one escapes it. You want proof? You don’t have to teach your child how to throw a temper tantrum. They inherently know what how to pitch a screaming fit when they don’t get what they want, in spite of the fact that their parental unit has said, “No!” You want further proof? Why is there so much evil in our world? Because people think they have a right to do it. It’s what they want to do. And we can establish, enact and try to enforce a world full of laws against evil, and they might stem the tide of evil to a degree, but they won’t eradicate it.

You see, there is no human cure for the sinful human condition. There’s no amount of familial or societal morality that will overcome the poison that’s in us. Countless cultures and civilizations have tried…and failed. The sin within us shows itself every day of our sinful lives by the sins we commit. You talk about destructive behavior! And what makes it so depressing is that we’re powerless on our own against it. It will have its way with us to one degree or another.

“In this way death came to all men, because all sinned.” There you have it. The uncontested fact that we are as sinful as this portion of God’s word states is demonstrated by the fact that we will all die eventually. God had told Adam, “When you eat of it you will surely die” (Gen. 2:17). And in the next chapter of Genesis, after Satan had succeeded in tempting Adam and Eve to do what God had forbidden, the Lord declared, “Dust you are and to dust you will return” (Gen. 3: 19).

Adam sinned. We inherited his sin. It causes us to sin. We die. Adam’s poison—his sin—infects all people.

In 2017 golf legend Roberto De Vicenzo died. In spite of his winning more than 230 professional tournaments, he is infamously remembered for his mistake that cost him the 1968 Masters trophy. On the second to last hole in the last round, Roberto hit a birdie on the par four 17th hole. But the man who was keeping his scorecard incorrectly wrote down a 4 instead of a 3. At the end of the round, Roberto signed his scorecard, thinking he was tied for the lead and heading for a playoff hole. But he had signed his card. By PGA rules, the 4 stood and he lost the tournament by one stroke. Someone else made a mistake and Roberto suffered for it.

That almost sounds like our dire spiritual situation. Because Adam sinned, we’re the ones who suffered. But the point is that we come into this world thoroughly corrupt and we’re helpless to help ourselves in any way.

But how that flies in the face of our world’s opinion on humanity and our own mistaken opinion of ourselves! The world thinks there’s a little good in everybody. Pop psychology praises it. And we buy into it at times. We know we’re not perfect, but we’re better than most and we silently reveal what we think of ourselves when we set ourselves above others, even far above them. But none of that matters, even if it were true. Because the truth of the matter is this, “Death came to all men, because all sinned.” Adam’s poison infects us all. And it won’t do any good to deny it. The only beneficial thing we can do is to admit it, acknowledge it, and repent of it. And that’s what this Lenten season is all about—coming to grips with our sinfulness. In fact, we’re sinful by nature. Adam’s poison infects us all.

Part II.

Right now the world is concerned about the Coronavirus. At this time last year, the world was concerned about the measles outbreak. Remember that? We thought that the measles had been eradicated in our country. That was one of the reasons countless people weren’t immunized properly against it and the result was another measles outbreak.

If only we could be immunized against an outbreak of sin. If only there was a physical serum for the poison of Adam’s sin. If only there was a way in which we could stop bringing children into our world in our own sinful likeness. But we’re helpless.

So, what hope is there against Adam’s sin? How can we stop the eternal damnation that faces every sinful human being on account of Adam’s sin?

We can’t. But God can. And he did. Here’s how it happened, “Consequently, just as the result of one trespass was condemnation for all men, so also the result of one act of righteousness was justification that brings life for all men. For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.” Paul’s point is this: Jesus’ obedience was the antidote for Adam’s disobedience. What obedience is Paul talking about? Christ’s perfect obedience. Jesus never fell into temptation. His heavenly Father repeatedly referred to Jesus as the Son whom he loved. That was his divine stamp of approval of the holy life of Jesus.

We heard about that perfect obedience in today’s gospel. I realize that the temptations that Satan threw at Jesus might not sound like great temptations to you and me, but I assure you they were real and they were intense, because each of them hit directly at who Jesus was and the work he had come to do. He always defeated temptation. He always obeyed his Father’s will. He did that in our place.

And then this Holy One took our place one more time—on Calvary’s cross. There he suffered the punishment for the sins of the world, for my sins, for your sins. By his perfect life and his innocent death on Calvary’s cross, Jesus removed the curse of Adam’s sin.

Jesus is Adam’s antidote. Adam’s poison infects all people, but Jesus’ work saves all people.

This word of God in front of us today is a real gut-check. When we’re tempted to think far too much of ourselves, it hammers home the truth that we’re under God’s condemnation just as everyone else is. We’re not so special. And when we’re all too aware that we’re not so special—when we’re crushed by the fact that we don’t measure up, not to the people we care about or to our God—this text comforts us with the truth that we have One who measured up to God for us. In fact, as the closing words of this text declare, we’ve been made righteous—holy—in God’s sight through the life and death of Jesus. His obedience is your obedience. His holy life is your holy life by faith in him. What Adam did—what we all did—Jesus has undone.

Jesus is Adam’s antidote! And he works every time. Trust him! Amen.