When you are setting out on a journey through a desert land, it is obvious that there are certain things you are going to need to persevere in such a savage land. You’re going to need light clothing for the heat of the day, warm clothing for the chill of the night. But more importantly even than that, you’re going to need ample food and water, because there will be none to be found.

These realities I suspect are weighing heavily on the minds of the ancient Hebrews during the time of the 16^th and 17^th chapters of the book of Exodus. They’ve just left Egypt, they’ve crossed the Red Sea, and now the desert awaits. And suddenly the bondage of the Egypt doesn’t look so bad anymore.

But they are not going into the desert because Moses has a bad sense of direction. No, God is sending them there for a very specific reason. God is leading them into the desert, in this empty land, so that they learn what it means to be God’s chosen people. And the first thing they must learn is faith.

Faith. And what is that? Well, as I said last Sunday and at other times before, simply this: believing that God can and will do what he promises. And what has God promised to these desert wanderers? Back at the burning bush, God spoke to Moses. “I have heard the cry of my people on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, ⁸and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey,” That’s the promise, freedom from bondage and a new prosperous fertile land in which to live.

But between Point A in Egypt and the promised land at Point B is the desert. People die in the desert. They starve. They die of thirst. They do not survive. Everyone knows this. And the only thing that is going to allow these people to survive in this terrible place is God’s grace and promise. But all they see is the desert. All they see is the lack and they do not believe that even God is greater than this horrible land.

The book of Exodus is filled with stories like the one we have as our Old Testament Lesson today, filled with tales of the things God has done to ensure his people’s survival in the midst of trial and turmoil. And it is filled with just as many stories of how they just don’t get it. As I said, the first lesson is faith and it’s going to take a lot of work to get these people to believe.

In fairness to the ancient Hebrews, they’re not alone. It always takes a lot of work for God to teach us that he is indeed faithful, that when he makes a promise, he will keep it. We are no different. We still tend to see only what is in front of us and when it looms large and threatening, we forget so quickly what we have been promised. Like the ancient Hebrews all those thousands of years ago, we see only the desert and we do not believe that God can rescue us from it.

Last week, we encountered the desert before Nicodemus, his need for control, his inability to let go and allow God to go and do as he chooses. It’s a familiar desert to many of us, one we have also found ourselves within. When we turn to this Sunday’s Gospel lesson, we find a different desert, but also a familiar one to many. Jesus has come upon a village of Samaria and much like his ancestors in the desert, he’s thirsty. This leads to a remarkable story of his encounter with a village woman who comes to the well and meets him there.

Jesus asks of her a simple request. “Fetch me some water.” But even that’s remarkable, because who is this person? First off, she’s a woman and in the old patriarchy of 1^st century Palestine, making such a request by a man of any woman who was not his wife or sister would be regarded as improper. Secondly, she is cursed from birth as a Samaritan, one of “those” people. An outcast tribe of intermarried half-breeds. For us Americans who in this generation are a hodgepodge of the great melting pot of this nation, each one of us a mix of European ethnicities with maybe an occasional dose of Native, African, or Asian thrown in for good measure, we don’t give much regard to the idea of racial or ethnic purity. But make no mistake, her heritage is a big deal to the people back then.

And as if those two truths were not enough, as John writes this story, we discover that this woman is likely of questionable morals, one with multiple husbands and lovers. And yet Jesus does not simply ask her for water and that’s the end of it, ridding himself as quickly as possible of this undesirable. Instead, he strikes up a conversation with her and speaks of a remarkable metaphor about the nature of the kingdom of God as living water that brings eternal life.

Why does he do this? For the very same reason God led his people into the desert, to teach faith. And not just for her, but also to all who read this story. Because if God can offer the promise of life eternal through Christ to her, with all that she has going against her, then He can offer it to anyone and everyone.

It’s a lesson we so often need to hear as well. Because how often is the desert that we see before us ourselves? I’m ordinary. I’m boring. I’m not educated. I’m not rich. I’m not important or famous. I’ve done things that I shouldn’t have. And so forth. How often have we said such things to ourselves? How often have acted or not acted because these are the things we believe about ourselves? In my case, too many times.

But faith isn’t about who we are or what we’ve done or not done in our lives. It’s about what God has promised. Jesus knew exactly who and what that woman was and yet he offers the water nonetheless. And not just to her, but to her whole village and to his own disciples. He offers it to Nicodemus, and to the crowds. He offers it to the blind, and the lame, the lepers and the sick. He offers it to the rich and the poor. And he offers it to you and to me.

The promise of living water, of life eternal, is not conditional. It does not depend on what you have, who you are, or what you do. It depends entirely on who Jesus is and what he does. And if you’ve heard any of my sermons these past seven years, you know already what he has done.

Faith is believing that God can and will do what he has promised. He has promised all of us life eternal through his son. And although a desert may lie before us, one thrown at us by the turmoils of the world or one of our own making, God will see us through it. Because God is and always has been faithful. Amen.