Where is Siloam, and the waters of Shiloah that flow softly? Alfred Edersheim, in “The Temple,” page 278 gives an interesting insight into a very significant chapter of John’s gospel, into which we must presently delve. By the time of Jesus, the ritual of the feast of tabernacles had settled down into a regular routine. With various exceptions throughout the eight days of the feast, a joyous procession, waving the branches specified by Leviticus 23 and led by a priest bearing a golden pitcher from the temple, went down to Siloam early in the morning, before the (ordinary) morning sacrifice was offered, and thence returned, bearing the golden pitcher containing the water taken from Hezekiah’s pool. We must not assume that the Jews of Jesus’ day were totally insensitive to the nicer points of scriptural history and fitness. Far from it. For what more fitting symbol could be added to that already specified by the law than that they should reinact the exodus, bearing the water obtained from the cleft rock, as, indeed, had that of the pool of Siloam been obtained. And so they did, and could not we sympathize, and be present with that joyous procession, and join them as they follow the priest back to the temple; watching still as the water is poured out through a hole in the altar of burnt sacrifice, as the flames of the morning sacrifice consume that offering? And listen too, as the priests, in solemn, yet happy procession, march around the altar singing the Hallel (Psalms 113 to 118): “When Israel went out of Egypt, the house of Jacob from a people of strange language; Judah was his sanctuary, and Israel his dominion . . . Not unto us, 0 Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory, for the mercy, and for thy truth’s sake . . . I love the Lord because he hath heard my voice and my supplications . . . 0 praise the Lord all ye nations: praise him all ye people. For his merciful kindness is great toward us: and the truth of the Lord endureth for ever. Praise ye the Lord . . . 0 give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever.”

In the last day, that great day of the feast, the procession around the altar was repeated to a total of seven times, with the singing. And it was then, just when the momentous ceremony, which drew together these two great themes from scripture, was reaching its climax, that “Jesus stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink. He that believeth on me, as the scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.” Thus he proclaimed himself at once the fulfilment of the Immanuel prophecy — the waters of Shiloah that flow softly — and the means by which the joys of the feast of tabernacles would be fulfilled. His statement was but a repetition, albeit this time a formal one, of the position he took with the woman of Samaria: “Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.” This was said at the site of another historical watering place — Jacob’s well (John 4). And the ideas are drawn from several Old Testament sources: “Fear not, 0 Jacob, my servant; and thou Jesurun whom I have chosen. For I will pour water upon him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground: I will pour my spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon thy offspring: And they shall spring up as among the grass, as willows by the water courses.” (Isa. 44:2-4) “Behold God is my salvation; I will trust, and not be afraid: for the Lord Yahweh is my strength and my song; he also is become my salvation. Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation. And in that day shall ye say, praise the Lord.” (Isa. 12:3) And, we say, how eminently appropriate is all of this.

But a significant percentage of the Jews present when Jesus made that proclamation over the poured out water of Shi­loah, were anything but pleased. The temple authorities were furious, sending the temple guard to arrest him for, as they thought, blasphemously disrupting the high point of the service. Several points of view among the people were evident, as John 7:40 and 41 show, and the real issue put before them by Jesus was undecided for “there was a division among the people because of him” (verse 43). But of all the conflicting points of view expressed, perhaps the most significant was the comment of the temple guard, who, in failing to arrest him, had to explain themselves, “never man spake like this man” surely the strangest reason ever given by a body of policemen for failing to arrest a prisoner.

Perhaps we should, for a while, stand in the shoes of the temple authorities. Especially those of us who, as arranging brethren in larger meetings, are sometimes called upon to resolve the conflicts that arise when some one of our members “gets a little out of line,” particularly when, as was the case here, they do so in public. What would we have done about Jesus? It is no good our saying, as we do say, “well, of course, Jesus can do as he likes because he has all authority and power,” because the Jews didn’t know Jesus as we know him. There is a problem here. The question is: are we really any different from them? For it was right that Jesus should disrupt that meeting, saying what he said just when he said it. If he hadn’t, quite possibly some who will now stand in their lot at the last days might not otherwise have done so. The problem of how we react to divergent thinkers in our midst is not a simple one, and will not easily go away. You see, of all divergent thinkers, Jesus was in many ways the most divergent. His is quite probably the most disturbing presence of our experience — or else we do not know him as we ought.