Lent 3A
March 19, 2017
John 4:3-42
Grace to you and peace from God our
Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
I belong to
a group on Facebook of ELCA clergy. It is sometimes very helpful and
enlightening, and other times very frustrating. This week I experienced the
latter: a pastor who I know from previous posts to be very opinionated (and a
bit abrasive), said that some Gideons had come to her office, wanting to speak
to the congregation. You know the Gideons – they are the ones who work to get
Bibles in hotel rooms and elsewhere. Well, after some reading I also learned
that the Gideons are an evangelical Christian group of “business and
professional men and their wives.” In other words, blue collar workers and
women (except wives of members) are excluded from this group. So, in this
woman’s post, she wrote, “I told a couple of sexist, classist men that as long
as I am pastor here, Gideons will never be welcome to speak.”
Though I can
appreciate her gumption, this also rubbed me the wrong way. I suggested in the
comments that perhaps instead of telling them wholesale that they were unwelcome,
perhaps she could have invited them into a conversation about it, asked what in
the gospel supported the group’s rules about membership, and then express her concerns about it. Let’s
just say… she didn’t think that was a good idea. “Who has time or energy for
that?” she asked. “When has politeness ever changed the system or gotten us any
closer to justice? They wouldn’t have been receptive to the idea, anyway.” And
then she assured me that she did not regret what she said. Well. Okay then.
It was right
after this encounter that I started studying today’s Gospel text. This is such
a rich and stunning encounter, for so many reasons. First of all, it follows
after the story of Nicodemus, from whom the woman at the well could not be more
different. Nicodemus is a powerful and influential Jewish man. She is a woman,
a Samaritan (which means she was racially, religiously, and politically despised
by Jews), she is poor, and, we come to find out, she has had five husbands –
likely because of some combination of being widowed and divorced.
She is as “other” to Jesus as she can
possibly be. Which makes it all the more remarkable that Jesus is talking to
her at all, let alone in the bright noonday light. Everyone knows he has no
business doing that. Yet, we also know that he is speaking to her very
intentionally. The text tells us, “But he had to go through Samaria.” A look at
a map will show you Samaria was really not on the way to Galilee. When John
tells us Jesus “had to” go there, he means, because it was essential to Jesus’
mission to cross this border, into a place full of racial, political, and religious
others. It was essential to have this conversation with this woman, right now.
There is so much for us to learn from
this conversation, especially at our particular time in history. We all lament
the divisive state of our country right now, and especially the ways this
divisiveness has made its way even into our personal relationships. That’s why
it is so important to witness this conversation between Jesus and the Samaritan
woman at the well, because, very practically, it shows us how to have
conversations with people different from us, but in which God is present, and
because it shows us that when we do that, we get a glimpse of the very nature
of God, and are transformed for mission.
 |
| JESUS MAFA. Jesus and the Samaritan Woman, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48282 (Accessed 3/24/17) |
The first thing to notice about this
conversation between Jesus and the unnamed Samaritan woman is that it begins in
a place of mutual vulnerability. We know that she is vulnerable – she is a
widowed or divorced Samaritan woman talking to a Jewish male. But Jesus begins
the conversation by expressing his own need: he is thirsty. Furthermore, it is
a need that he needs her help to fill. It’s not very often that our
conversations with others start this way. Generally, I think we go into a
conversation with someone who differs from us with the intention of proving we
are right, not by confessing that we have a need that can only be satisfied by
being in relationship with the other. Yet this is the way God chooses to start
a conversation with this woman, and with us. Mutual vulnerability.
The next thing to notice about the
conversation is the centrality of questions – not rhetorical questions, or
questions that will ultimately prove that you are right, or to catch someone in
a logical fallacy. Instead, questions that are genuinely curious about the other,
that reflect an interest in the other and a longing for information. The woman
is full of questions for Jesus, and Jesus makes space for them. Rather than
requiring her to keep quiet, as would be customary for a woman in the first
century, she becomes a conversation partner with Jesus, asking him pressing
theological questions – about proper worship, and the nature of God. By
engaging in these questions, the relationship between God and the woman is
strengthened.
The third thing to notice is that
conversations like this, that are genuinely interested in the other, take time.
I was interested, thinking back to my exchange with my colleague on Facebook,
that her response was, “Do you have the time and energy to develop
relationships with every sexist, classist person who comes across your path?”
And, well, I suppose the answer is no, because developing relationships,
especially with people who are different from you, or with whom you adamantly
disagree, takes a lot of time and energy. But does that mean we shouldn’t try?
Does it mean we shut it down before it has even started, or after the very
first bump in the road? Jesus surely doesn’t. The woman knows she has no
business talking to this man; nevertheless, she persists, and Jesus give her
all the time in the world to do so, and because of that, when she finally does
leave she goes straight to the city to tell everyone about her encounter with
God. She has been changed by the encounter.
Which brings us to the fourth point:
when you have a conversation with or about Jesus, expect to be surprised, and
expect to be changed. Expect that through conversation with one of God’s
children, God will reveal something important to you, something about God that
you had never noticed before. The last thing Jesus says to this woman before
she goes into the city, is to reveal to her exactly who he is: “I am he,” he
says. It is the first of Jesus’ many “I am” statements in the Gospel of John –
the statements that elaborate on God’s revelation to Moses at the burning bush,
when God describes Godself as, “I am who I am.” And in this way Jesus revealed himself
to the Samaritan woman – and so also is God revealed to us, when we genuinely,
humbly, and thoughtfully engage with the other.
The work of
conversation, especially with those who differ from us racially, religiously,
ethnically, or ideologically, is terribly difficult work. It takes a
willingness to be vulnerable with one another and to let ourselves be truly
seen by one another. It requires asking a lot of questions and then really
listening to the answers with the intention to learn, not to debunk or refute.
It takes a lot of time and energy and practice – we often fail at it (I know I
do!). And even when we do succeed, it often results in our being changed – and we
all know that change is rarely easy or smooth. But when we listen to one
another this way, we also open ourselves to the possibility of listening to and
hearing God, and then, to being transformed by God.
Just look at
what happened to the woman. She comes to him as a shamed and ashamed person in
her society. After her genuine, vulnerable, thoughtful conversation with Jesus,
she goes back into the city and witnesses to her experience with God. She tells
others how she has been touched and changed by the encounter. And because of
her witness, many others come to believe in Christ. Could that happen also with
us? Might we find that when we engage with one another in this way, and they
with us, we also experience more deeply the love of a God who came into the world
to save the world?
My hope and
prayer is that when we follow the example of this remarkable conversation
between Jesus and the Samaritan woman, we will not only know more deeply the
love of God and be changed, but that by our being changed, God might also
change those whom we encounter. God’s love has the power to transform this
broken world; let us go out to share that love with the world.
Let
us pray… God on the margins, you love and
engage with even those we have no interest in. Embolden us, and open our hearts
to be touched and moved by our encounters with those who are different from us
in race, gender, or creed, so that we would be empowered to share your love
with the world you came to save. In the name of the Father and the Son and the
Holy Spirit. Amen.
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