Here’s a fun historical curiosity to pop out at your next party…
The Polish phrase for vodka is Vhiznennia Voda.
The French term for brandy (which is often applied to all spirits) is Eau de Vie.
Akvavit is a term in Denmark and Scandinavia for various spirits.
The Gaelic term from which we get “whisky” is Uisce Beatha.
The Latin term for grape-based spirits is Aqua Vitae.
What do all these terms have in common?
Every single one of them translates to “water of life.”
Several disparate regions of the world with different languages and different regional spirits all came to use the same phrase to describe their alcohol, but why?
Think about it: water is unfiltered and can contain many harmful substances. Dirt, bacteria, various parasites— water just wasn’t safe to drink before modern filtration methods. By contrast, beer contains all the nutrients of bread; we’re learning more and more about the health benefits of wine; and maybe this one’s a little obvious, but ALCOHOL KILLS BACTERIA! Aside from their recreational benefits, fermented and distilled beverages were simply safer to drink than water in the ancient world. Beer and wine were the more common beverage choices at the dinner tables of the wealthy. Jesus used wine in rituals and miracles, and Paul even recommended it to Timothy for its medicinal value (1 Timothy 5:23). The water of life was all over the ancient world, and the term still appears often in the names of modern spirits.
Aside from being a fun linguistic tidbit, this common name for spirits gives us an insight into just how important a region’s liquor is to its cultural identity. To describe something as “the water of life” indicates tremendous value. So whether it’s vodka or brandy or whiskey, know that there’s cultural significance in the name of your beverage of choice. These drinks may be fun to us, but in another place and time, they were life-giving.
Of course, it’s important to notice the difference between water of life and a similar term,
living water.
When Jesus spoke to a woman beside a well,
she had gone there in the middle of the day to bring up water
under the hot sun but beyond the scrutiny of her neighbors,
and sitting there,
just outside the borders of civilization,
the Savior asked her for a drink.
As they talked, Jesus listened,
and when the time was right, he extended an invitation:
an offer of living water.
Living water is that which moves,
not the stagnant and tepid stuff you might find at the bottom of a well.
Jesus spoke of fresh and flowing water,
pure and satisfying,
and the woman was fascinated.
It was a metaphor, of course,
for the love which flows from him,
the love that set the sun and stars on their paths
and the love which flowed from Christ’s wounds on Calvary.
Living water is that which flows into us
when we’re in God’s presence,
a sustaining grace that is offered freely to all,
and the table is always open to receive it.
Sure, there may not be much common ground here beyond the linguistic similarity, but how curious that, in a time when wine was far safer to drink, Jesus took the less safe beverage, purified it, and made it a symbol of that which is sacred and life-giving.
It makes me wonder about the things we consider unclean today,
the places we think God’s love can’t reach,
the people we think are beyond God’s redemption,
all that our far-too-finite minds decree to be
secular and profane and off limits to The Holy.
Maybe the Living Water can use these things for holy purposes yet.