“Oh, I remember those tennis shoes I’m wearing in that picture. I begged you and Mom to get them for me.”
David Jr. was looking through old photos while he and his family were home with us for Christmas. I had been rummaging through photo albums the week before, cleaning them out and organizing them. I had an entire folder with Dave’s name on it, filled with papers and documents for him to keep or toss.
I was curious: “Why did you want those tennis shoes?” (I couldn’t recall the shoes or his pleas for us to purchase them.)
“Well,” said David, pausing and then wrapping his arms around his four-year-old daughter, Stella, as if he wanted her to hear what he was about to say.
“My friend in 3rd grade, Johnny, was the fastest runner in the class. When I asked him how he was so fast, he told me it was because of his tennis shoes. I was certain that if I had those tennis shoes, I would instantly be a fast runner, too. So, I asked and asked for them. And finally,” Dave said, looking at me, “you and Mom got the same kind of tennis shoes Johnny had. And you know what?” he said, then looking down at Stella to make sure she was listening, “They didn’t make me any faster. I was so disappointed. I had high hopes those shoes would automatically make me faster.” And then, to underscore the lesson to Stella, “Just buying something doesn’t instantly change us.”
A roomful of Christmas gifts surrounded us. How many times have we looked forward to a present that would instantly change us for the better? The sweater that will make us look more chic, the mixer that will improve the baked treats, the latest hydrating formula guaranteed to make us appear younger, the vitamin supplement that will improve our health, extend our longevity, and help us sleep better, and the golf balls that will improve our game.
Sometimes it works, but more often, it doesn’t. The cool-looking jeans in the picture look too baggy or too tight when we put them on; the golf balls still land in the rough; the hydrating formula leaves an oily feel; the mixer didn’t make the cookies taste like grandma’s.
But there is one gift guaranteed to do what it advertises. Of course, you have to believe in this gift for it to work.
Jesus had met a woman at a well. They were alone, the disciples having gone to town for food. Jesus’ encounter with a woman, and a Samaritan woman at that, was unusual. But Jesus used the opportunity to reveal to her who he was, the Messiah for all people. And he would give her a guarantee of life everlasting.
She was at the well to get water, and Jesus offered her “living water,” a spiritual gift leading to eternal life, which is “guaranteed” not by a physical bucket but by Jesus’s divine identity as the Messiah, satisfying her deepest spiritual thirst and transforming her life.
“Everyone who drinks from this water will get thirsty again,” Jesus told her as he looked at her bucket of water. “But whoever drinks from the water that I will give him will never get thirsty again. In fact, the water I will give him will become a well of water springing up in him for eternal life” (John 4:14). She believed Jesus, for she went back to her town, sharing the Good News, leading more Samaritans to believe.
The guarantee that Jesus of Nazareth offers us is a guarantee that satisfies our deepest spiritual thirst, assuring a life of satisfaction and peace in a world of false hopes and broken promises, a world where we must keep returning to the well, searching for that “something” that never quite satisfies.
Stella slipped out of Dave’s arms and went to her Christmas baby dolls, as a four-year-old would. I can only hope the lesson won’t be lost, not only for her but for all of us who are prone to forget the relative importance of earthly things and the eternal value of the living water only Jesus can give.
It’s guaranteed.