John 4:7

CHRIST’S LONGING FOR HUMAN SYMPATHY

‘There cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water: Jesus saith unto her, Give Me to drink.’

John 4:7

Had not Christ the power to create springs in the desert, and showers in a dry and barren land? Yes; but the Incarnate Son of God, Whose delights have ever been with the children of men, longs for human love and human sympathy, and asks for them at our hands. He says to us, as it were, ‘Give Me to drink. Refresh Me with your gratitude and your love. Let Me see of the travail of My soul, and be satisfied.’ And He takes the risk of receiving our repulse.

I. Defection pained the Saviour exceedingly.

(a) We have only to look in John 6:66 to see that independently of the injury to the men themselves, the incident involved the disappointment of fondly-cherished hopes; the waste of the spiritual teaching which He had been labouring so assiduously to impart.

(b) So, too, in the course of the conversation which took place at the table of the Lord’s Supper, Philip asked the Saviour to show them the Father. Alas, what a tale that request told of instruction that had been unheeded; of revelations that had been made to unsympathising, or, at least, to imperfectly-sympathising hearts!

(c) In Gethsemane He took those of His disciples with Him—the nearest and dearest and most spiritual—to sustain Him by their presence. Overpowered by His anguish, He rises from His knees and advances to the little group, craving for human sympathy, for ever so small an amount of it. In that dark hour—to see a human form, to hear a human voice, to touch a human hand, were something. But he finds that they, from whom He might have expected comfort in such extremity, are fast asleep. And the sad cry bursts from Him, ‘What, could ye not watch with Me one hour?’

The Man Christ Jesus, like all great spirits with a great mission before them, felt very lonely. But with His intense capacity for loving, He yearned for human sympathy, and strove to get it. What He said to the Samaritan woman, He virtually said to His brethren of the human race, ‘Give Me to drink.’ And He received, in most cases, the same indifferent, careless, chilling repulse.

II. The Saviour still longs for the lore of those whom He died to redeem.—Is this too much to say? What then is meant by that description of Christ in the Book of the Revelation of John, with which you are so familiar? It is the risen and glorified Saviour with the diadem on His brow, and the royal mantle over His shoulders; it is not the humble Jesus of Nazareth Who stands at the closed door of the heart—stands patiently and knocks, waiting for admission. He exposes Himself, glorious as He is, to repulse at the hands of His creature. And why? Because He desires companionship, communion with us. ‘If any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me.’

Rev. Prebendary Gordon Calthrop.