“Is there anyone who can restrain this water…” (Acts 10:47a).
Two people have visions: Cornelius, a Roman Centurion has a vision and sends some of his people off to find a man called Peter. Peter has a vision of a big blanket with animals of all kinds in it. When Cornelius’ people arrive, Peter, led by the Spirit, goes with them, probably thinking about this vision the whole way.
At the house, Peter thinks he understands what he’s seen: there’s no such thing as people who were unworthy of hearing the Gospel. So, he begins to preach to Cornelius and his family.
But then the people of that house—Gentiles, Romans—start speaking in tongues. The same thing that had happened to Peter and his friends after Jesus had left them. This uncontrolled, uncontainable force that had filled them was here, flowing through this house and these people.
And Peter gets it. He says, “Is there anyone who can restrain this water?”
Because Peter’s next action is to baptize the household of Cornelius, his words have long been tied to that ritual. They’re taken as a revolutionary statement that Gentiles should also be brought into the fold, called fellow followers of The Way. But it’s about so much more than the rite of baptism.
In his rooftop vision, as Peter sees the great sheet descending, filled with animals, he hears the voice of the Holy One saying “kill, and eat.” It’s often interpreted that this a metaphorical statement that is given flesh in the story of Cornelius and his family: that there is no in and out, clean and unclean. But, that works until you think about that statement to kill and to eat. That recalls an old story.
In the aftermath of the Flood, God tells the lone survivors that “every living, moving creature will be food for you.” In another way, Noah and company are shown the beasts of the field spread out before them and hear God saying take, eat.
Peter’s vision, then, is less about food and more about water. A reminder of when “the source of the great sea was breached and the windows of heaven opened wide.” When long restrained waters were let loose and allowed to flood the earth.
Yet this water was different. And I can’t help but wonder if Peter, standing there in Cornelius’ house, thought of his friend who had gone away. The one who once called himself living water. The same one who said that from those who draw near to him that same water will flow like a river, or even like a dam that has burst.
And, perhaps, in that moment he realized how wild, how uncontrollable that living water is. How, like the Flood it will cover all of Creation, soaking it and every single person. How, bathed in love, it would be made new.
Who, he wonders, could even hope to restrain such water?
Living Water, you long to wash over me, to fill me, to saturate me with your love. And, through me, you hope to drench others in that love. Forgive me for the times I’ve tried to hold back, to restrain your waters. Help me live, like you, wild and dangerous that this whole world might be bathed in you and all things, at last, made new.