H. Michael Brewer
Crescent Springs Presbyterian
21 January 2007
CLEARING THE WELLS
Psalm 32
Last week we considered the story of Jesus turning water into wine—one hundred fifty gallons of wine!—
and we wondered why the abundance of God’s generosity isn’t more apparent in our lives. If God gives so
freely, why are we so often running on empty?
An Old Testament character offers a clue. Isaac, the son of Abraham and Sarah, settled for a while in
Gerar, a desert land where his father had lived many years before.
We are told that while he was there, “Isaac dug again the wells of water that had been dug in the days of
his father Abraham…” (Genesis 26:18) Over time the wells had gotten clogged up. The water was still there,
but it was no longer within reach. Isaac cleared away the rubbish and the debris so the water could flow
again. A small thing, but also an important thing.
God’s abundance never runs out, but what if the wells get clogged up? What if something comes between
our need and God’s provision? Then our lives run dry and our spirits shrivel. When that happens, what can we
do about it? Let me suggest three things that ought to be ongoing spiritual habits in every Christian life:
confessing, conforming, and communing.
Confessing has to do with sin, of course, not a topic we enjoy talking about. Unfortunately, closing our
eyes to sin is about as effective as closing our eyes to diabetes or depression or dysentery. Denial doesn’t
heal, it only hides. To put this as plainly as possible, sin is disobedience to God, and that disobedience
always gets in the way of our relationship with God. Sin always impedes the flow of God’s blessings and
goodness. Sin clogs up the well.
And the worst kind of sin is the sin we refuse to admit, refuse to confess, refuse to repent. What does the
psalmist say?
While I kept silence, while I lived in denial, while I pretended everything was okay, while I lied to God and
to myself, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy
upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer. Our suffering won’t always be physical, but we
will suffer when we refuse to face our sins. Anything that separates us from God also separates us from
health and wholeness.
Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions
to the Lord,” and you forgave the guilt of my sin.
With that act of contrition, the well was opened, the flow from God was restored, and the believer finds
renewed joy. Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Happy are those to
whom the Lord imputes no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.
The sink in our bathroom was draining more and more slowly, until the water would barely trickle out of
the basin. So I pulled the plug out and found it matted with hair. (Now I know where my hairline went!) A hair is
a tiny thing. Who notices a hair going down the drain? Who worries about a couple of hairs in the sink? But
little by little, month after month, strand by strand, those tiny hairs built up until the pipe was nearly choked off.
Confession is our best effort to keep sin from piling up and building up. Contrition is our resolve to clear
away the things that come between us and God. In this life, we will never be sinless, but honest confession
represents our struggle against habitual sin, unrepented mistakes, and compromised discipleship. Better to
struggle against an ongoing sin and to fail a thousand times, than to make peace with sin or to embrace
wrong.
If confessing is the negative aspect of clearing the wells, then conforming is the positive side. Turning
away from what is hurtful works better if at the same time we embrace what is helpful. Jesus told a parable of
a man who had a demon cast out of him, but the man allowed that empty place to remain in his life. He didn’t
fill it with anything good, just left a vacuum, and later the demon moved back in and brought a bunch of friends
along. “And so,” says Jesus, “that person is worse off than before.” (Luke 11:26 NLT)
Confessing our wrongness is the first step. Conforming ourselves to God’s righteousness is the second,
putting something healthy in place of the brokenness, letting ourselves be conformed to God’s image. God
says to the repentant psalmist: I will instruct you and teach you the way you should go; I will counsel you with
my eye upon you. God will guide us into right paths; God will shape us for righteousness—the righteousness
that comes through obedience, through conforming our will to God’s will.
Look at Psalm 19. O God, who can detect his own hidden faults? Who can discern her own blind spots?
No one, Lord, so I’m going to follow your rules, I’m going to keep your law, I’m going to do what you tell me.
And then sin will not have dominion over me.
Little by little, disobedience clogs up the flow between us and God, but every act of obedience, every
submission to God’s will, opens the flow a little, clears the well bit by bit. This happens because living
obediently is like approaching God with open hands, ready to be filled, and also because God’s abundance
flows to those who will use it for God’s purposes.
The biblical teaching is clear on this. God blesses us so that we become a blessing to the world. “From
everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been
entrusted, even more will be demanded.” (Luke 12:48)
Remember the story of the three servants to whom the master gave some money to use on his behalf?
Two of them made a profit with the money, but the third servant just buried his in the backyard to keep it safe.
And the master said, “If he’s not going to use it, take the money from him and give to a servant who will put it
to work.”
To receive God’s bounty is to be blessed, but it’s not a blessing to hoard; it is always a blessing to share.
Those Christians in the book of Acts did amazing things, deeds of courage and power and healing. Maybe
they received more of God’s power because they were more committed to God’s purpose.
The more we obey, the more we invite the mind of Christ to guide us, the more we conform ourselves to
God’s will, the more abundance flows into our lives, both because we are more prepared to receive it and
because we are more willing to use it in God’s name.
Confessing: ridding ourselves of the barriers between us and God.
Conforming: shaping ourselves to be God’s vessels.
And communing. What do I mean by communing? Being close to God, not just in prayer and worship, but
at work, at play, at rest. Seeking God in need. Enjoying God’s presence. Longing for God, delighting in God,
loving God.
This is the goal of Christian spirituality and maturity, an experience of heaven here and now. And God
longs for this, too. God wants us to want God. Again from the psalm: Do not be like a horse or a mule, without
understanding, whose temper must be curbed with bit and bridle, else it will not stay near you.
Don’t be like a straying horse. Be smarter than that. Don’t wander off, God says. Stay close to me, right
here beside me. Stay close, not because I’m forcing you to, not because I’ve got you strapped down with bit
and bridle and harness, but because you want to be here with me. Don’t fight me, but yield to me.
I remember chatting with a lifeguard at a Florida beach. I asked him if his job was dangerous, what with
riptides and undertows and such. He said, “I’m a strong swimmer. The water doesn’t cause me problems.
The danger comes from the person you’re trying to save. Some people go limp and let you bring them in.
They’re the easy ones. But some of them fight like crazy, they thrash, they pound you, they drag you under, they
pin your arms, and all the time I’m shouting, ‘Relax, let me handle this. Quit fighting me, I can save you.’”
Maybe that’s the lesson we need to learn. Confessing, conforming, communing… Let’s say it another
way. If we want to be filled with the abundance of Christ, maybe we just need to surrender, to trust and obey, to
yield to God our guilt, our obedience, and our love.
The yielded life is ready to be shaped.
The yielded will is ready to be molded.
The yielded heart is ready to be filled.
Soli Deo Gloria!