Fifteenth Pentecost
Sunday, September 13, 2020
Creation Season Year A
John 4:5-42
Today's Gospel reading, of which we only read the first half of the encounter between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well – the whole story, which takes up to verse 42, is actually the longest recorded encounter or discussion out of any of the Gospels between Jesus and any other person. So even though we hear just a portion of it this morning, it’s an important story for us to dive into (and yes, I use that word “dive” intentionally, given the Gospel’s use of water imagery).
First, however, it’s really important to know some background information – all of which will bring to light the power of this Gospel story. So you should understand first that the Samaritans and the Jews were bitter enemies. In fact, most Jews walked miles and miles, completely out of their way, in order to avoid Samaritan territory altogether. Samaritans were considered to be half-breeds. Inter-marriers. Impure . . . at least in the eyes of the Jews, which included Jesus and his disciples.
Next, of course, women were virtually invisible, silenced, nothing more than pieces property to be exchanged at the time of a marriage, and bearers of the next generation. Women worshiped separately from men, and a man’s morning devotions included the prayer, “Thank you, God, I am not a woman.”
Even lower on the rung of power and prestige was a divorced or widowed woman. A woman without a man. And the Samaritan woman who met Jesus at the well had already cycled through 5 men – and the man she was currently with was not even her husband.
Notice, too that while she doesn’t have a name in this story, even the inanimate well itself has a name.
And I’ll bet you any amount of money that everyone in this little town of Sychar knew her name. I’ll bet you that they knew lots of stories about her. I’ll bet you that when groups of other women traveled to the well in the cool of the morning they told stories all about her, and that these stories made carrying those heavy jugs of water back to town just a little lighter for those women.
We’re supposed to immediately place shame and powerlessness onto this unnamed woman. She was heading to the well, at noon – when no one else would be there - nameless, exposed, vulnerable, of course, THIRSTY and very much alone. Or so she thought.
So when John writes, “A Samaritan woman came to draw water from the well at noon,” he even has the woman herself speak to how scandalous her encounter with Jesus is. She asks Jesus, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?”
Even speaking to each other was risky. A Samaritan woman of ill-repute, and a Jewish teacher/prophet. If anyone should have social-distanced, it should have been these two. But almost immediately, Jesus acknowledged her life of pain and shame, her THIRST - and all without judgment.
Jesus “saw” her, really saw her, and after asking for a drink of his own, he offered her his "living water." With the Samaritan woman, Jesus broke open the boundaries between male and female, he broke open the boundaries between those who were “chosen” and those who were “rejected.” He broke open the boundaries between the ranks of social status. Jesus’ point was this: “If you want to know how and where God can be authentically known...if you want to know God’s true grace, well, I’m right here. I know your thirst, your pain, you’re suffering, and I am the “living water.”
Wherever you are, I am.
Stretch this promise – from a point of location, the well – to a place of emotion, to a place of desperation, to a place of sickness, to a place of pandemic, to a place of fires and floods. This is why this story matters!
I am, wherever you are, Jesus says.
One of the important things this story is showing us is that God, in Christ, is more verb than a noun. Which means that as Jesus sat there at the well, as a verb, he was walking, sitting, resting, speaking, asking, demanding, listening, conversing, answering, loving and . . . staying. And it means that Jesus is doing ALL of that – and more – with us, right now.
Sometimes we think that mission or ministry has to be splashy or time consuming, or structured by large committees or programs. We are certainly serving like Jesus, the verb, on Wednesdays, when we distribute food, diapers, and gift cards to those who are hungry.
But even more often – like every single day - we can change someone's day, or dare I say it, even their life, by stopping and listening - stopping and seeing with Jesus’ eyes, like Jesus did at the well. Jesus saw the woman there with nothing but love, and it flooded the Samaritan woman's world with "living water" - and then she took that message back to her city and that love took that Samaritan city by storm.
There’s a song, by Grammy Award winning Colbie Caillet, from a few years ago, called “Try.” It’s all about the journey women, in particular take to be accepted in our world today. The make-up we wear. The clothes we buy. The size of our bodies. The color of our hair. The color and smoothness of our skin. It speaks powerfully to the societal and cultural norms we must live up to in order to “fit” in. And bit by bit, through this song’s video, we see Colbie and other women slowly letting go of the particular things that would bring them status – fancy clothes, the straightened hair, the make up on their faces. I imagine it to be a modern example of the Samaratin woman at the well – where living, really living, isn’t dependent on status – Living is dependent on just love. God’s love is the “living water,” the water that is actively running and bubbling up as the presence of Christ in our lives. It is our sustenance. Our energy. Our presence in the world. Offering the same judgement-free, thirst-quenching love where ever we are.
Now I must admit that it seems that the Samaritan woman doesn’t fully understand Jesus. And doesn’t immediately accept the relationship he offers. But she really does want that living water. What ever that really means. And her thirst leads her to bring others to the well — she doesn’t tell them exactly what to believe, but she simply echoes the great door-opening Gospel invitation, “Come and see.” Even though she doesn’t completely understand, the Samaritan woman is transformed. And her transformation doesn’t depend on “getting it right” – it simply depends on accepting what Jesus offers.
So, this week, Jesus is asking me, and asking you, in the words of Colbie Callait:
“Can you Take your make-up off
Let your hair down
Take a breath
Look into the mirror, at yourself
Don't you like you?
'Cause I like you,”
– can we - accept that truth just like the Samaritan woman? I pray we can, because when we accept God’s grace is when we are able to pass it along to others. Amen.
