Now that we have "mingled" our 'waters of experience', let us turn our attention to the meaning of water in our lives. In case you wondered what we will do with the water we gathered today-we strain it and then store it in the refrigerator with a little bleach as a preservative and we use it for child dedications of our members' children. We dip a rosebud into water and touch it to the child's head and welcome it into the world.

         I have lived in many places. The ones I've liked the most are those close to bodies of water. There's something about bodies of water that draws me physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Recently, Leo and I pretended we were tourists and visited Sandwich, on the Cape. It is a beautiful place and not just because the Daniel Webster Inn is there and serves a wonderful meal! I asked the staff at the Inn whether there was a beach in town. They gave me a map and marked the exact route to the beach. The City of Sandwich has built a bridge-like boardwalk across some of its sand dunes and backwaters to protect them. The ocean was just turbulent enough to give us the sound of crashing waves, interrupted only by the squeals of delight of three young boys as they kept jumping off the boardwalk into the backwater.

         We noticed that on the map was a place called "Dexter's Mill," established in 1635. So off we went to find it. Even today, with the power of the river in which it sits, a miller grinds corn much as was done in 1635. We were too late to go inside the mill but we looked around. The place is so very beautiful that it seems unreal. A single swan is confined to one part of the mill. A pair of swans swim gracefully together on the river. We thought we would walk along the river to see where it went and also in hopes of finding its name. We didn't find its name. Close to the mill was a sort of water fountain that bubbled up continuously. A man was filling one-gallon plastic container after another. Curious, I asked him what he was going to use the water for. He said, "Oh, nothing." I asked, "Is the water 'special'?" "Not really," he replied. Well, clearly he was not going to say more, so we walked on our way until we couldn't see the river any longer. When we returned to our car, Leo took a drink of the water. "Very cold," he said, "but nothing special!" I noticed the man had left a full water container, probably because it was leaking. "Not exactly good civic behavior!" I thought. It also seemed to me such a waste to have a continually running faucet. (I have since discovered that the faucet is a spring.)

         Have we all become conscious of not wasting water? I know my awareness of it stems from the severe drought I lived through in New York City in 1969 and 1970. That was when we were asked to turn off the tap when brushing our teeth (I still do this), shut off the shower when we've got the shampoo suds going, and don't flush the toilet unnecessarily. Over the years, we were asked to do this in other places as well. How many of you still conserve water? (A large percentage of the congregation raised their hands.)

         In biblical lands, water was always a precious commodity. The earliest prophet, Elijah, beat the 400 pagan priests of Jezebel in a rain-making contest, thus showing that his god was more powerful than theirs. In the time of Moses, when the people grumbled that they had left Egypt only to come to a barren and waterless land, Moses struck a rock with his staff and water flowed from the rock. Much later, Jesus turned water to wine for the sake of wedding guests. Water has always been a precious commodity.

         Perhaps you have heard the story of the pastor who is driving down to New York when he was stopped by a state trooper. The trooper smells alcohol on his breath and then he sees an empty wine bottle on the floor. He says, "Sir, have you been drinking?"

         The pastor says, "Just water."

         The trooper asks, "Then why do I smell wine?"

         The pastor looks down at the bottle and says, "Good Lord! He's done it again!"

         The May edition of "Natural History" magazine reminds us that "more than 97 percent of the water on earth is 'undrinkably salty'. Of the remainder, more than two thirds is locked up in glaciers and ice caps. Only a minute share of Earth's water, less than one-hundredth of 1 percent, is both fresh and renewed each year." (p. 60, Postel) It suddenly struck me that the "Fire" part of the earth, air, fire and water elements is actually the "sun" that participates by way of evaporation in the hopefully endless recycling and distribution by rain and snow of much of the earth's water supply. ".… Freshwater is a [precious] resource that is not replaceable like most resources….And it flows naturally across national and other political boundaries, creating unique political problems." (p.60, Postel) This could even lead to Water Wars.

         The Tigris and Euphrates rivers begin in the mountains of Turkey and run through Syria and then Iraq before emptying into the Persian Gulf. The Ataturk Dam project in Turkey is taking one third of the flow of the Euphrates. When Syria protested, the Turkish president sniffed, "We don't claim their oil; they can't claim our water." This same argument is playing out in many countries.

         The damming of rivers the world over is causing endless environmental problems. In 1997, Turkey was one of only three countries that "voted against a United Nations convention that established two key principles to guide international water-sharing: first, the idea of 'equitable and reasonable use' and, second, the obligation not to cause 'significant harm' to one's neighbors." (p.66, Postel) The other two countries were China and Burundi. We expect in the coming decades that fresh drinking water will become a world problem, and not just in war torn zones. Lack of water could cause the flight of ecological refugees across the globe.

         When we lived in Canada a few years ago, we witnessed public outrage in response to many deaths caused by contamination of the public water supply in the city of Walkerton, only 50 miles away from where we lived in Kingston, Ontario. The deaths were caused by two things: waste from a nearby pig farm that had penetrated the water system and, second, the laziness of a public official charged with testing the water. Also, a public debate was raging over whether Canada should sell the pristine water of its northern territories, which it already is doing by the shiploads. Some Canadians said they should share it with the rest of the world. Others said they should keep it for themselves.

         Did you know that this year, the year 2003, is the International Year of Freshwater? There are wonderful interactive sites on the Internet that you and your children or grandchildren can read about water projects and problems all over the world. I'll put publish some of the addresses with my sermon next week.

         The subject of our Seventh Principle-the interdependent web of which we are all a part-is a precious and fragile one. Freshwater is part of that fragility and so necessary to our well being. I hope we will all take good care of the water we use. And if we need to take public action to preserve the sustainability of our water supply, I hope we, as a congregation, will awaken our sensibilities and not hesitate to embrace the cause.

         May we be so close with our friends and family, that our meals with them are a communion. And may we be ever aware that our freshwater is our most precious commodity.

References

         The following have informed and inspired this article:

         Articles from the "Natural History" magazine, Volume 112, Number 4, May 2003:

         "Temples for Water," by Morna Livingston, p. 52.

          "Hydro Dynamics," by Sandra Postel, pp 60-67.

         Websites for water information:

         www.ga.water.usgs,gov/edu

         www.sbu.ac.uk/water/index

         www.water.usg.gov/waterwatch

         www.capp.water.usga.gov/gwa

         www.unexco.org/water