Lent
3; Yr. A, March 23, 2014
Exodus
17:1-7; Psalm 95; Romans 5:1-11; John 4:5-42
Sermon
preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church
Jesus
goes to Samaria with his disciples. He
stops at a well and asks a woman there for a drink. There are several things about this encounter
that make it odd. First, Samaritans and
Jews didn’t get along very well. Jews
considered Samaritans heretics, so they wouldn’t have been too likely to have a
conversation with one another anywhere, let alone at a well. Second, it would not have been proper for a
man to be talking with a woman he didn’t know.
Third, noon is a very funny time for a woman to be at the well. Most women went to the well in the morning
and collected what they needed for the day.
It was a social event. They
talked and worked together. This woman
was probably an outcast, unwelcome at the morning ritual with the rest of the
woman in the town. She’s at the well at noon in the heat of the day at a time
when no one else would consider coming to draw water.
If
I were her, I’d be wary.
A lot of questions would be running through my
mind. Why is this man talking to
me? He’s asking for water, but what does
he really want? I’m alone. Is it safe to talk to this man without anyone
near by to help if it goes awry? I’m an
outcast. Maybe he wants to add to my
troubles with ridicule or humiliation. What
will people say if they see me talking to a Jewish man? I would have lots of worries to warn me
against the coming conversation. But she
responds anyway.
The
conversation itself is strange. It
begins with Jesus asking the woman to draw him some water from the well. Not such an unusual thing for a man to do,
except for those peculiar circumstances.
The woman notices them right away. “How
is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” She knows who she is. Who does this guy
think he is? . “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is
saying to you, ‘Give me a drink’, you would have asked him, and he would have
given you living water.” What is living water?
The
woman knows what comes out of that well, and you need a bucket to get it. They’re in a desert so you have to have a
long rope to get to the liquid at the bottom.
Jesus has neither. The woman is
curious. “Where do you get that living
water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob?” A well was a gift in the desert. Everyone depended on it for life. They made a daily pilgrimage there on foot,
and if the well ran dry, many would die.
The
living water that Jesus is talking
about is self-sustaining. If you drink
it, you become the well. It gushes up
inside you. It gushes up! It’s not a little trickle; it’s a flood! That gets the woman’s attention. Water like that would be valuable beyond
belief. Water that you didn’t have to
walk to get. Water that renewed itself
within your body. You can go without
food for a long time, but water … water you need almost daily. Who wouldn’t want that? The woman says, “Give me this water.” She wants it.
A part of her believes what Jesus is saying. She believes there is such a thing as living water. “Give
me this water so that I may never be thirsty.”
What
happens next seems especially odd. Jesus
answers her demand with a command of his own. “Go get
your husband.” She doesn’t have
one. “You
are right”, Jesus answers, “you have
had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband.” The woman is astonished. How could he know this? Jesus must be a prophet. Maybe he is
greater than their ancestor Jacob. But
that doesn’t change the fact that he is a Jew, and she is a Samaritan. They worship in different places. They have different beliefs. They don’t even like one another.
Jesus
says, none of that matters. The time is
coming, in fact the time is now, when
true worshippers will worship God in spirit
and truth. Maybe that’s when the
woman realizes that Jesus has just given her living water. Jesus gave
her the gift of truth. You have no
husband, in fact you’ve had five, and the one you’re living with now is not
your husband. Hard truth, yes … liberating
truth. I am the Messiah. I know your secrets, and I will still talk to
you. I will sit at the well with you and
not push you away. The truth does not
condemn you. You are not an outcast from
me. Truth with love is living water.
The
woman is so overcome with the power of that interaction that she drops her
water jar and runs into the city. She
runs to the place and people who have cast her out, maybe forgetting that she
isn’t welcome there. She gets there and
she tells the people about Jesus. She
tells them that he knew everything she ever did. She has forgotten her shame. “He
cannot be the Messiah, can he?” Can
he? Is that what the living water is all about? Is that what worshipping in spirit and truth
is about? Throwing off fear and
humiliation? Being known fully? Welcoming one another in love? I think so.
“Many Samaritans in the city
believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, ‘He told me everything I have
ever done.’” Water began gushing up
eternally within her. They went out to
find Jesus and they invited him to stay.
While he was there many more came to believe.
There are a lot of lonely and outcast people
in the world. We are some of them. There is a part of each of us that is looking
for unconditional love, for that living
water that Jesus was offering the woman at the well. There is so much about our lives that we
don’t share … because it’s personal … because it’s painful … because it’s
embarrassing … because we’re ashamed … because we’re afraid … maybe because no
one gives us the chance. We
differentiate ourselves by our differences in belief, in opinion, in political
party, in race, in sex, in so many ways, but we are fundamentally the same. We build walls around ourselves to keep
others out, but those walls can just as easily be a trap, a trap that binds us
to patterns and behaviors that never permit us to feel safe letting others get
to know us or allow us to be curious enough about other people to get to know
them. At the well, Jesus is saying that
we do not have to be afraid of ourselves.
Brené
Brown[1] is
a shame researcher. She goes all around
the country talking about shame and shame resilience. She says that we live in a culture of shame,
a culture that’s based on “never enough”.
Not only is there a limited supply of goods and services that pit us
against one another, but we ourselves are limited. We’re never
enough, never smart enough, never
creative enough, never kind enough, never generous enough. You name it. We’re always falling short, or being put
down, because we don’t work hard enough, or we aren’t going to the best
schools, or we’re not wearing the right clothes. If you don’t believe that’s true, talk to our
young people. They know all about
it. We live in a culture that judges one
another all the time.
There
were lots of reasons that Jesus shouldn’t have had that conversation at the
well, but he did it anyway. When his
disciples returned, they were shocked … but they didn’t say anything to him
about it. Maybe they’re finally starting
to understand that they could not control him.
Jesus was going to have conversations with anyone he wanted to … lepers,
Pharisees, tax collectors and demoniacs.
Jesus usually didn’t let “stuff” get in the way of relationships. God’s love was big enough to hold it
all. How big is our love? Who are we willing to meet at the well? Look around the church. Is there anyone you don’t know? Someone who you know by just their face and
name, but little else? What would it be
like to sit with him or her after the service during our fellowship time? What kinds of things would you talk
about? Safe things? Things you all agree on? Or could you talk about yourself … about what
concerns you … about things you care about.
Brown
has several guidelines she uses when she’s talking to others about herself. Most importantly, she says, don’t throw your
pearls before swine. Share your deepest truth
with those you trust. That may only be two
or three people in your life. You don’t
have to throw your whole self out to everyone.
People earn the right to hear your dearest stories. We earn the right by sitting at the well
together over and over again.
If
someone takes the chance to share something with you, listen and avoid the urge
to give them advice. The most important
thing you can do is thank them.
Acknowledge the privilege you have just received. Someone has just given you a deeper glimpse
of themselves, and risked rejection while hoping for love.
Jesus
told the woman that he was there for her, and so was God … in spirit and
truth. He knew that that living water could set her free, and it
did. What kind of conversations are we
willing to have with one another? Who
are we willing to meet at the well? As
you look around this room, is there a person you haven’t spoken with, except to
say “hello” or “good-bye”, or “how are you” in passing? Maybe it’s time to meet them at the well. Just sitting together is a step in the right
direction. No one should have to sit
alone, not if we’re living in love. We
reach out to the other, especially to the one who does not look like me or you
or you. Think about the well being your
table at hospitality, and see what happens.
Then see if you start to discover other wells in other places … at work,
at the bus stop, in line at the grocery store, at your child’s school. That’s worshipping in spirit and truth, and
living the joy of Christ, an invitation we have all received.
Amen.
[1] Brown, Brené. Daring Greatly: How the Courage to be
Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead, Gotham Books, New
York, NY, 2012.
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