Sermon from Grace and
St Stephen’s 3/12/23 John 4:5-42
During
ordinary time in the church year, or “green” seasons, I wear a stole that was
custom made for me at my ordination. It was a gift from my friends and family
and was made by a woman who takes various parts of your story and incorporates
them into a stole. One of the more prominent figures on mine is the woman at
the well, who we get to know in the Gospel reading today. She is on my stole
because this story is my favorite passage of scripture.
When I was growing up,
sometimes my Baptist friend would invite me to a church event and everyone was
invited to go around and say their favorite scripture, I never had any idea
what to say. I went to church every Sunday at The United Methodist Church and
always went to Sunday School but I didn’t memorize scripture passages and
random one-liners didn’t hold much appeal to me. So I often just reached for
something I could remember like Noah or the Good Samaritan. That was before I
met the Samaritan woman going to the well to get water. I can’t remember the
last time someone asked me my favorite scripture but I wouldn’t hesitate now,
it’s this one … it’s her … and him and this conversation.
It’s
hard for me to put into words why I love it so much and how it speaks so deeply
to my soul. Somehow I just feel very seen in this passage. I don’t know exactly
why but their conversation and back and forth brings up excitement and deep
feelings for me. One of my favorite weeks in my Gospel of John class in
seminary is when we did a deep dive into this passage. We read commentaries
from all different perspectives and even some really interesting literature
that attempts to build on this story and create a made up narrative beyond it.
So I guess other people have felt inspired by it too.
Maybe
I also like it so much because it reminds me of deep conversations that I have
experienced myself. The kind of conversations that feel very real, genuine and
like a deep connection is made.
For
example, about 20 years ago I remember driving late at night through a series
of bridges and tunnels between New Jersey and Manhattan. I was in seminary,
living in New Jersey and watching Saturday Night Live with friends when one of
my friends realized he missed the last train to his apartment in Manhattan.
Having just moved from Ohio and never having driven to New York City before, I
said I would give him a ride if someone came with me. Another friend agreed.
After we dropped him off and made it through the city traffic I began to have a
conversation with this other friend. We were attending a United Methodist
seminary and so many of us were preparing to be United Methodist pastors, but
this particular friend and his roommate had recently converted to the Episcopal
Church and they really loved it. They were always talking about it and their
new found love of traditional liturgy and things like chanting and incense and
saints. They seemed to always find a way to bring their excitement of being
Episcopalian into every conversation. I visited their Episcopal Church and it
was lovely but without full text bulletins I was a bit distracted by all the
book-juggling as a newcomer. So late at night, as the city skyline faded in the
rearview mirror I asked him, “Do you think you are better than everyone because
you are an Episcopalian?” I think the question surprised him, but it turned out
to be a great conversation and all these years later I think we can all feel
pretty confident that the answer to that is “yes, yes he does think he is
better than everyone because he is an Episcopalian.” Is that right Father
Jeremiah?
So
when the Samaritan woman is at the well to get a drink and Jesus tells her to
get him a drink and she fires back with some direct questions, including, “Are
you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us this well?” I hear it as “do
you think you are better than Jacob?” and I like her. She is direct, she is
bold and she is honest and Jesus seems to like her too because he continues to
engage with her and offers her “living water.”
I
think sometimes when people talk about this passage they talk about this woman
as an outcast, as someone to be pitied, as someone who has lived what others
may call a “sinful life.” But what I encounter in this passage is someone who
is confident, and not afraid to be direct with a Jewish man talking to her alone
in the middle of the day. Samaritans and Jewish people were not supposed to get
along and had a long history of issues. And a man and a woman who were
strangers weren’t supposed to be talking to each other alone. In fact, we read
that when the disciples found him they were “astonished that he was speaking
with a woman.” The text goes on to say, “but no one said, what do you want or,
why are you speaking with her.” I wish they would have; I would love to hear
Jesus’ answer. Perhaps if they too would have been honest then they too could
have understood better what Jesus was saying about who he is. But they didn’t.
I
think people often pity this woman because of what we learn about her. Jesus
says that she has had five husbands and that the guy she is currently with is
not her husband. Because of this she is often cast as sad or shameful or
desperate. But what I find interesting
is that the text doesn’t say that. Jesus describes her situation matter-of-factly
and never pairs it with any judgment. He is MUCH nicer to her than he is to the
Pharisees and Sadducees he gets so mad at. Her past and her situation are what
they are, and she doesn’t miss a beat over it. He tells her he knows these
things, notes that she was being honest and then she gets right back into the
back and forth. In fact, she goes into tricky territory by bringing up
long-standing theological differences between her people and his people. And he
continues to explain to her who he is and what he means and through her
questions she gets there … she gets him … she sees him for who he is and she
can’t wait to tell everyone else. And, what the text tells us is that people
believed her. Even though we are often told that she is an outcast and full of
shame and judged- what the text tells us is that she tells people about Jesus
and they believe her- they drop what they are doing and go to see him because
of what she says. They also ask Jesus to stay and he does.
Jesus,
God incarnate, engaged in a deep conversation with a bold Samaritan woman and
so many lives were changed because of it. And she, the Samaritan woman, wasted
no time in engaging this Jewish man sitting at the well, telling her to give
him a drink and so many lives were changed because of it.
In
her book, Abuelita Faith, Kat Armas says, “Jesus doesn’t just talk to an
otherwise despised woman- as many theologians have pointed out to be radical-
but he assumes her agency and engages her in mutuality. Jesus welcomes the
Samaritan woman’s challenge, participating with her in teologia en conjunto,
the act of theologizing together in collaboration. And through their
back-and-forth exchange, the mujer at the well encounters the Living Water- our
sacred water who himself heals, gives life, and restores.”
She
sees him and he sees her and the result is beautiful. Maybe that’s what I like
so much about this passage. I know what it feels like to be seen and I know how
it feels to let someone else know they are seen. Not with judgment, not with
shame, not with surface politeness, but truly seen and accepted. Jesus sees the
Samaritan woman and a well of life giving water is opened inside of her. The
kind of water that seeps deep into your bones, the kind of water that never
runs dry, the kind of water that gives you courage to go and share it with
others.
When
have you felt seen? Trauma psychiatrist Bessel Van Der Kolk says, “Social
support is the most powerful protection against becoming overwhelmed by stress
and trauma. The critical issue is
reciprocity, being truly heard and seen by the people around us, feeling that
we are held in someone else's mind and heart.” Jesus and the Samaritan woman
truly saw and heard each other and that was more powerful than their
backgrounds, differences, genders or social norms.
At
the winter youth group retreat in January the teens and I got into a
conversation about God’s grace. I was telling them about how God loves us just
as we are, even when we don’t deserve it and that is grace. They started asking
questions- which the Samaritan woman would appreciate. They asked “what about
this or this” and I said God still loves them. One asked about Jeffrey Dahmer
which got everyone saying, “well, surely he is too evil for God’s love.” But I
told them, I’m sticking with grace. God’s grace is bigger and more than we can
ever imagine.
Behind
their questions about famous criminals or people who did horrible things I
heard the deeper question … what about me? What if you really knew me, my
mistakes, my bad thoughts, my failings, my dark thoughts- would you still say
God loves me? What if God sees me, really sees me … beyond the front I put up,
beyond politeness, beyond good behaviors … would God still love me, would I
still receive the living waters that eternally quench thirst?
Maybe
that’s why I love this passage so much … because sometimes I ask too many
questions, I can be too direct, too honest, too curious, and feel too judged by
the world around me … but Jesus sticks around. It’s real, the living waters,
God’s radical acceptance, God’s grace, Jesus’s invitation to a deeper
relationship- it was real 2,000 years ago and it’s real today so … yeah … I
really like this story.
