Both of our readings today are about finding water in a dry place.  Using the metaphor of water in the desert the scriptures explore how the struggle for survival in tough times affects our relationships with God and with one another.   And, offers some strategies, not just for surviving but for thriving. 

In Exodus 17:1-7, when his people express their need, Moses is defensive and hostile and conflict ensues.  Blame will only increase the hostility.  Trust is what is needed.  God responds by inviting both Moses and the people to trust one another and restore their relationship so that they might journey forward together.

The conflict explored in John 4:5-42 is the brutal and longstanding one between the Israelites and the Samaritans which has led to a complete breakdown of relationship between the two groups.  

Jesus seeks to repair this relationship by first acknowledging his own vulnerability and asking for help.  He extends trust towards an enemy and an outsider.  Beside the well, both Jesus and the Samaritan woman confront their shared human need: they need water to live and the best way to get it is with each other. 

Meeting by wells in scripture (particularly this well, which appears in the stories of Abraham, Issac and Jacob) always mark a new beginning.  The new life which becomes possible when people who have been distant and different take the risk of journeying together.

The readings invite us to reflect, on how we cope when times are hard, who we blame, who we shut out; and on how we can begin to build trust where there is none, so that, together, we may not only survive but thrive.

When I had my first child I knew nothing.  I had not attended any classes, I had read nothing, learnt nothing, been told nothing.  I didn’t have a clue what to expect.  What I did have was trust.  I trusted that the medical team and I trusted my Mum, a midwife, who was by my side.  I trusted them because they had done this before.

This morning Nicodemus knows nothing. His knowledge, his learning, his intellect will only take him so far.  When Jesus says: “are you a teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things?” he is not mocking him for his lack of knowledge, he is pointing out that you cannot live a life of faith by knowing, only by doing.  We will never know what it is like to have a child until we have had one (and even then we only know what it is like to have that one child, the next one will be altogether different).      

A life of faith, like giving birth, is a risk, a leap into the unknown, you do not know what the outcome will be, you cannot know what it will demand of you, until you do it.  Nicodemus is unable to take the risk, he comes to Jesus in secret at night wanting reassurance but Jesus cannot tell him what his path will be.  He can only assure him that he, Jesus, has done this before.  He has descended from heaven, he will ascend to heaven.  Jesus does this not in knowledge but in trust, that God is love and perfect love casts out fear.

If we want a life of faith, a life of grace, a life of purpose we need to take the risk of trusting the spirit of God to lead us where it chooses, knowing only that it chooses love.

Lent is sometimes seen as a test of piety and self-discipline and, at first glance, our readings appear to support this view:  In Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-7, Eve and then Adam are tempted and fail whereas, in Matthew 4:1-11, Jesus is tempted and does not fail.

But faith is not a pass/fail proposition. The word translated at “tempt” in Matthew can also be translated as try, test, attempt or examine.  It expresses the process of trying to find out the nature and qualities of the thing or person tested.  Jesus is not being tempted to sin as much as he is being tested to find out who he is: Satan repeatedly asks: “if you are or since you are …”  in an attempt to discover what it means to be “the son of God”.  Satan seems to have clear ideas about what this involves. 

In our lives we discover that many people have ideas about who we are and how we should behave; and listening to them can draw us away from our true identity, as Eve learns when she listens to the serpent.  

Jesus’ answer to the demands and expectations that others have of him is to return to his identity as a beloved child of God; he is as God has made him nothing more and nothing less.

Lent is not a test for us to pass or fail.  It is a time for us to return to the ground of our being and remember who we are.  It is about discovering once more that the only true and important thing about us is that we are beloved children of God.

Lent it is not about self-improvement. It is about self-discovery.

We often speak of mountain top experiences: those moments when God is powerfully present, when we feel that we have stepped outside of the humdrum and the ordinary and touched the divine and the eternal.  Both readings this morning recount such an experience.  In both they take place on a mountain top, above the concerns of the everyday. 

In Exodus 24:12-18 it is only Moses who is permitted to draw near to God, the rest of the people must stay at the distance.  In Matthew 17:1-9, however, Jesus takes people with him.  Here, instead of the “devouring fire” seen by Moses on the mountain, they see Jesus transfigured by the fire, the light and glory emanating from within him. 

The disciples are scared out of their wits but Jesus restores them with a touch.  Here God is no longer separate from humanity, no longer distant and other but is deeply and intimately enmeshed in and with humanity. 

God does not remain on the mountain top, God accompanies them back down the mountain into the world of the everyday.  Here they are to learn that they too can be transfigured, soaked through with the love and the will of God.  And, being filled with Christ, recognise Christ in others and in the world around them. 

God is not for special times and special places, God is for all times and all places.  Shining through the world, shining through each and everyone of us, calling us to reach out our very human hands that through them God might bring healing and renewal to a needy world.

No worries! Who is Jesus kidding when he tells us not to worry in Matthew 6:25-34.  Worry is, after all, an essential part of life, it helps us to focus on what matters.  And that is the point Jesus is making, what are we worried about and what does it reveal about what is important to us?

When we focus on ourselves, our own survival, success and security, we focus what we lack, what we have not got, what we might lose.  Instead, Jesus asks us to shift focus and concentrate on the kingdom of God.  At first this might appear to increase the number of things to worry about: no longer do we worry just about our own health and well-being but that of the whole planet and all the people in it.  Indeed, the letter to the Romans, 8:18-25, compares the work of encouraging the kingdom of God to the pains of labour.  Yet, the pains of labour are bearable because we know that we are bringing new life to birth.

The door to happiness opens outwards and involves a certain level of self-forgetfulness; an ability to look beyond our own lives and see how they are intimately connected with lives of others and with the whole of creation.  To the extent that we can lay aside our own concerns and look to the concerns of the Kingdom, we learn to focus, not on what we don’t have but what we do and, more importantly, how we can use it.

Today we celebrate the last of the Epiphanies: those moments of sudden wonder and understanding when something extraordinary is revealed to us.  In these moments Christ shows us not only who he is but also who we are.  Of all the epiphanies, the last is probably the most ordinary: a young family go to worship and are welcomed by a couple of old folk.   Yet is also the one that is perhaps the most helpful in showing us how to become who God made us to be.  In Luke 2:22-40 the revelation of God’s presence here with us is only made when different people are gathered together.  It is when people of all ages, genders, class and status are united, that we see God united with us also.  God is made present among us.  The path to God is found in embracing each other and discovering what unites us.

Today we celebrate the Conversion of St Paul, who teaches us that “by grace you have been saved by faith”.  Yet both our readings express something of the doubt and confusion involved in the life of faith.  In Acts 9:1-22, Paul, once so certain of his faith, is blinded, unable to see, not knowing where he is going.  Ananias is also confused and uncertain when God calls him to visit the man who has been an enemy to him and his fellow believers.   It is Ananias faith, his ability to take a risk and follow God into the unknown despite his doubts, that brings healing, sight and faith to St Paul.  In our gospel, Matthew 19:27-30, the disciples are also experiencing doubt: they have taken the risk of faith, they have left everything, yet they are uncertain of their future.  

They, like we, want security, they want to know where they are going.  We like to feel in control of our own lives and it is often only when the rug is pulled out from beneath us, when, like Paul, we are groping blindly and are unsure of the way to go, that we place our trust in God.  Wealth, status and health are ephemeral but the merciful love of God is enduring.  

When we feel lost and disorientated by life’s events, this is not the end of faith, but it’s beginning. 

Jesus’ ministry has a very low-key start in John’s gospel.  In Mark he silences a demon, in Matthew he teaches a vast crowd, in Luke he preaches in the synagogue but in John 1:29-42, he just stops and talks to a couple of people, asking them what they want, what it is that they, that we, are seeking?  What is it that we need?

There are parallels with the way in which the suffering servant, in Isaiah 49:1-7, starts with the needs of others.  Whether the servant refers to an individual or to a wider group of God’s people the answer to their own suffering and seeking is to be found in serving others.

The two disciples respond to Jesus with a question of their own: where can we find you?  Jesus’ reply, come and see, is an invitation.  In the other three gospels Jesus begins his ministry with an action or a statement which shows others who HE IS but here, in John, he invites us to join him so that we might discover who WE ARE. 

Just as the people of God who have suffered exile and defeat in Isaiah are offered healing and restoration through engaging in the needs of those around them; so Jesus invites us to find what we seek by participating in God’s work of healing and restoring the world around us.

Who do we think we are? Epiphany is the season of revelation; the stories that reveal Christ’s true nature also reveal our own identity as his siblings in the family of God.  Today, as we mark the baptism of Christ we remember that we too are baptised in the same spirit.

In our gospel, Matthew 3:13-17, John does not want to baptise him, yet Jesus insists so that we might not be afraid to follow him into deep waters.  Just as the Spirit moved over the waters bringing creation into being, so the spirit moves over the waters of baptism recreating us.

The voice of God calling Christ his beloved child is for us too, we are claimed and renewed and anointed so that we might follow Christ, carrying the spirit of God into the world and working for the renewal of all people and the whole of creation.