Thirst

John Wesley

"Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after" this: In order fully to understand which expression, we should observe, First, that hunger and thirst are the strongest of all our bodily appetites.In like manner this hunger in the soul, this thirst after the image of God, is the strongest of all our spiritual appetites, when it is once awakened in the heart: Yea, it swallows up all the rest in that one great desire, -- to be renewed after the likeness of Him that created us.We should, Secondly, observe, that from the time we begin to hunger and thirst, those appetites do not cease, but are more and more craving and importunate, till we either eat and drink, or die.And even so, from the time that we begin to hunger and thirst after the whole mind which was in Christ, these spiritual appetites do not cease, but cry after their food with more and more importunity; nor can they possibly cease, before they are satisfied, while there is any spiritual life remaining.We may, Thirdly, observe, that hunger and thirst are satisfied with nothing but meat and drink.If you would give to him that is hungry all the world beside, all the elegance of apparel, all the trappings of state, all the treasure upon earth, yea thousands of gold and silver; if you would pay him ever so much honor; -- he regards it not: All these things are then of no account with him.He would still say, "These are not the things I want; give me food, or else I die." The very same is the case with every soul that truly hungers and thirsts after righteousness.He can find no comfort in anything but this: He can be satisfied with nothing else.Whatever you offer besides, it is lightly esteemed: Whether it be riches, or honor, or pleasure, he still says, "This is not the thing which I want! Give me love, or else I die!" 4.And it is as impossible to satisfy such a soul, a soul that is athirst for God, the living God, with what the world accounts religion, as with what they account happiness.The religion of the world implies three things: (1.) The doing no harm, the abstaining from outward sin; at least from such as is scandalous, as robbery, theft, common swearing, drunkenness: (2.) The doing good, the relieving the poor; the being charitable, as it is called: (3.) The using the means of grace; at least the going to church and to the Lord's Supper.He in whom these three marks are found is termed by the world a religious man.But will this satisfy him who hungers after God? No: It is not food for his soul.He wants a religion of a nobler kind, a religion higher and deeper than this.He can no more feed on this poor, shallow, formal thing, than he can "fill his belly with the east wind." True, he is careful to abstain from the very appearance of evil; he is zealous of good works; he attends all the ordinances of God: But all this is not what he longs for.This is only the outside of that religion, which he insatiably hungers after.The knowledge of God in Christ Jesus; "the life which is hid with Christ in God;" the being " joined unto the Lord in one Spirit;" the having "fellowship with the Father and the Son;" the "walking in the light as God is in the light;" the being "purified even as He is pure;" -- this is the religion, the righteousness, he thirsts after: Nor can he rest, till he thus rests in God.

J.C. Ryle

I. In the first place, then, you have a case supposed. Our Lord says, “If any man thirst.”
Bodily thirst is notoriously the most painful sensation to which the frame of mortal man is liable. Read the story of the miserable sufferers in the black hole at Calcutta.—Ask anyone who has travelled over desert plains under a tropical sun.—Hear what any old soldier will tell you is the chief want of the wounded on a battlefield.—Remember what the crews of ships lost in mid-ocean, tossed for days in boats without water, go through.—Mark the awful words of the rich man in the parable: “Send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water to cool my tongue: for I am tormented in this flame.” (Luke xvi. 24.) The testimony is unvarying. There is nothing so terrible and hard to bear as thirst.
But if bodily thirst is so painful, how much more painful is thirst of soul? Physical suffering is not the worst part of eternal punishment. It is a light thing, even in this world, compared to the suffering of the mind and inward man. To see the value of our souls, and find out they are in danger of eternal ruin—to feel the burden of unforgiven sin, and not to know where to turn for relief—to have a conscience sick and ill at ease, and to be ignorant of the remedy—to discover that we are dying, dying daily, and yet unprepared to meet God—to have some clear view of our own guilt and wickedness, and yet to be in utter darkness about absolution—this is the highest degree of pain—the pain which drinks up soul and spirit, and pierces joints and marrow! And this no doubt 264is the thirst of which our Lord is speaking. It is thirst after pardon, forgiveness, absolution, and peace with God. It is the craving of a really awakened conscience, wanting satisfaction and not knowing where to find it, walking through dry places and unable to get rest.
This is the thirst which the Jews felt when Peter preached to them on the day of Penetcost. It is written that they were “pricked In their heart, and said, Men and brethren, what shall we do?” (Acts ii. 37.)
This is the thirst which the Philippian jailor felt, when he awoke to consciousness of his spiritual danger and felt the earthquake making the prison reel under his feet. It is written that he “came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them out, saying, Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” (Acts xvi. 30.)
This is the thirst which many of the greatest servants of God seem to have felt when light first broke in on their minds. Augustine seeking rest among the Manichean heretics and finding none—Luther groping after truth among monks in Erfurt Monastery—John Bunyan agonizing amidst doubts and conflicts in his Elstow cottage—George Whitefield groaning under self-imposed austerities, for want of clear teaching, when an undergraduate at Oxford—all have left on record their experience. I believe they all knew what our Lord meant when He spoke of “thirst.”
And surely it is not too much to say that all of us ought to know something of this thirst, if not as much as Augustine, Luther, Bunyan, or Whitefield. Living as we do in a dying world—knowing as we do, if we will confess it, that there is a world beyond the grave, and that after death comes the judgment—feeling, as we must do in our better moments, what poor, weak, unstable, defective creatures we all are, and how unfit to meet God—conscious as we must be in our inmost heart of hearts, that on our use of time depends our place in eternity—we ought to feel and to realise something like “thirst” for a sense of peace with the living God. But alas, nothing proves so conclusively the fallen nature of man as the general, common want of spiritual appetite! For money, for power, for pleasure, for rank, for honour, for distinction—for all these the vast majority are now intensely thirsting. To lead forlorn hopes, to dig for gold, to storm a breach, to try to hew a way through thick-ribbed ice to the North Pole, for all these objects there is no lack of adventurers and volunteers. Fierce and unceasing is the competition for these corruptible crowns! But few indeed, by comparison, are those who thirst after eternal life. No wonder that the natural man is called in Scripture “dead,” and “sleeping,” and blind, and deaf. No wonder that he is said to need a second birth and a new creation. There is no surer symptom 265or mortification in the body than the loss of all feeling. There is no more painful sign of an unhealthy state of soul than an utter absence or spiritual thirst. Woe to that man of whom the Saviour can say, “Thou knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked.” (Revelation iii. 17.)
But who is there among the readers of this paper that feels the burden of sin, and longs for peace with God? Who is there that really feels the words of our Prayer-book Confession: “I have erred and strayed like a lost sheep—there is no health in me—I am a miserable offender”? Who is there that enters into the fullness of our Communion Service, and can say with truth, “The remembrance of my sins is grievous, and the burden of them is intolerable”? You are the man that ought to thank God. A sense of sin, guilt, and poverty of soul, is the first stone laid by the Holy Ghost when He builds a spiritual temple. He convinces of sin. Light was the first thing called into being in the material creation. (Genesis i. 3.) Light about our own state is the first work in the new creation. Thirsting soul, I say again, you are the person who ought to thank God. The kingdom of God is near you. It is not when we begin to feel good, but when we feel bad, that we take the first step towards heaven. Who taught thee that thou wast naked? Whence came this inward light? Who opened thine eyes and made thee see and feel? Know this day that flesh and blood hath not revealed these things unto thee, but our Father which is in heaven. Universities may confer degrees, and schools may impart knowledge of all mysteries, but they cannot make men feel sin. To realise our spiritual need, and feel true spiritual thirst, is the A B C in saving Christianity.
It is a great saying of Elihu, in the book of Job—“God looketh upon men, and if any say, I have sinned, and perverted that which was right, and it profited me not; He will deliver his soul from death, and his life shall see the light.” (Job xxxiii. 27, 28.) Let him that knows anything of spiritual “thirst” not be ashamed. Rather let him lift up his head and begin to hope. Let him pray that God would carry on the work He has begun, and make him feel more.