Blessed is She Who Perceives

Lent 3A; John 4:4-42; St. Paul’s, 3/15/2020

Jim Melnyk: “Blessed is She Who Perceives”

I want you to take a moment and think about a group of folks – a class, a category, an ideology, perhaps even a nation – think about a group of folks you may struggle to accept or possibly even secretly despise in your heart. Folks you would cross the street to avoid – folks who make you instinctively set the locks on your car doors while stopped at a light – folks about whom you might say to your children, “Don’t go near them!”

Consider for a moment those folks whom you, or the world around you, consider to be untouchable – beyond the pale of proper society or the sacred doors of a faith community. Think of your reaction these days when someone near you in the pharmacy line or grocery store suddenly starts coughing. Think of these folks and you’re beginning to understand the animosity between some first century Jews and their Samaritan neighbors.

Into just such a world view Jesus came among us calling us to repent of our hardness of heart and our unwillingness to believe the Good News of God’s coming reign. Jesus, like many of his contemporary Jewish teachers, found himself constantly standing against religiosity, and standing for a more intimate, loving relationship with the One he called Abba – which simply means “Father.” Calls for compassion, mercy, and justice; calls for welcome, hope, and steadfast love, rang out – ring out today – as challenges to those who would lead with hearts of stone rather than hearts of flesh – and God knows there are more than enough stone hearts out there in every generation and every faith expression.

As Christians we have been called, along with our Jewish and Moslem sisters and brothers, people of the Book. People who hold dear our sacred stories and seek God’s promise held within its pages. But we are also followers of Jesus the Christ – who held those words to be dynamic, living words that point to a dynamic, living God. We look to Holy Scripture only as it helps us understand and know a living, loving, gracious, and life-giving God – the God we understand to have been made known in a wonderfully mysterious way through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.

The Jesus I have come to know is One who is willing to go to the cross to help us understand the fullness of God’s love. And this is the Jesus who stops by the dusty roadside at noon in the middle of Samaria. It is no accident or geographical necessity that brings him to this well in the city of Sychar.

The author of John’s Gospel says in verse four that Jesus “had to go through Samaria,” and despite the fact that Samaria lay directly between Galilee on the north and Judea on the south, what we need to remember is that the animosity between Jews and Samaritans was a driving force – and a dividing force. It was so strong that Jews would go out of their way – crossing the Jordan River to travel around Samaria – rather than set foot in enemy territory or risk coming into contact with Samaritans – whom they considered to be unclean.[1] In other words, the stated necessity to pass through Samaria is purely theological on the part of Jesus. It is nothing less than the expansion of his witness – a widening of the circle of God’s grace and love. This is an example of the love which we were told about in the Nicodemus story last week – a love offered for the whole world.

The meeting between Jesus and the Samaritan woman goes beyond expected conventions, and their dialogue opens for them – and for us – new possibilities. There are for this woman and for the people of Samaria new avenues for understanding, experiencing, and worshiping God – new possibilities for being in communion with one another.

Something exciting about today’s gospel lesson is the point that Jesus and the woman meet by the well at noon. First of all, meetings at wells are well known in the Jewish tradition – a place where prospective brides and grooms often seem to meet. And the broad daylight of this setting stands in stark contrast with the dark of night that cloaked Nicodemus’ approach we may recall from last week. And while Jesus and the Samaritan woman don’t end up finding themselves engaged as a result of this meeting – there does seem to be a meeting of the minds – and engagement of another sort – that brings a different form of new life into the world around them. Jesus and the woman go beyond expected conventions – realizing that indeed we’ve all got it wrong – God seeks our worship to be centered in our hearts more than in any sacred site.

Someday, Jesus says, everyone will realize it’s the heart and the spirit we bring to our worship of God that’s important – not where we gather to worship. Doesn’t this message seem to take on new life today as we find ourselves scattered from this sacred place of worship? We are finding ourselves socially distancing ourselves from so many places and events – finding ourselves cocooning at home when our faith traditions have often called us to gather in times of anxiety and stress.

Isn’t Jesus’ message timely? It seems set up to allow us ways to faithfully go beyond our own expected conventions – something that can help us find new ways of being in community together while everyone around us is asking us to add some spaces in our togetherness.

Jesus chooses to engage the Samaritan woman in a theological discussion, and in the end offers her living water – in essence, Jesus offers her himself! Jesus tells her that those who drink of the water which he offers them will never be thirsty.” And then Jesus sends the woman out to be the first apostle to the Samaritan people. And like the disciples who leave their “nets, boats, parents and a tax station [behind], the Samaritan woman leaves her water jar at the well and goes to evangelize her city.”[2] A great many people hear her message, and through her proclamation come to know Jesus. “Oh, blessed is she who perceives the Lord, oh, blessed is she who perceives! ‘Twas the Samaritan woman who drew from the well, and blessed is she, is she who perceives!”[3]

I have to tell you – for a world that seems to be shutting down all around us, this past week has felt like the inside of a raging whirlwind. Anxiety seems to speed things up even while everything is slowing down. We are bombarded with “wash your hands, don’t touch your face, stay away from large groups, watch for symptoms.” Some of us immediately get drawn into the concerns – others work hard to dismiss them. Either way, life is different for us right now – and will be for some time.

Perhaps this can be an opportunity for us to move beyond our own expected conventions – to find more ways to be in community with one another.

Perhaps we will find new possibilities as we step away from the busyness of the world – find new ways to support one another even in the midst of social distancing. If you’re into social media, stay more connected and perhaps let go of the snarky aspects so prevalent today – use it to stay in touch and let folks know if you have a need. Text one another just to touch base. Or better yet – call someone and actually speak together. Let a friend or family member know if you’re feeling anxious or sick – let them know what you need. If you’re well, see if a friend needs you to pick up groceries or medicine for them – or just needs to talk. This is our chance to worship – and to witness – in both spirit and truth.

And in the end, I suspect we will find God present with us in ways we’ve never expected – because God is always ready and willing to go beyond the expected conventions of this world and invite us into new life.

---

[1] Wes Howard-Brock, “No Secret Disciples,” Sojourners: Preaching the Word.

[2] Jim Douglass, “The Samaritan Apostle” Sojourners: Preaching the World

[3] The Hymnal 1982, Hymn 673

Lent 1A; Matthew 4:1-11, St. Paul’s, Smithfield, NC 3/1/2020

Jim Melnyk, “Giving Our Wilderness to God”

One of the marks of the wilderness experienced by Moses and the Hebrews nearly three and a half thousand years ago, and by Jesus about fifteen hundred years later, is the outward quiet. In the barren places the sounds of other creatures seem muffled or far away – that is, if they are heard at all – and then not usually during the day. In the wilderness there is plenty of space – too much space for many folks. Yet outward quiet only serves to magnify the internal uproar. In the barren places inward voices are amplified and so, they drown-out the real quietness. And when we find ourselves in a spiritual wilderness, even a crowded room cannot fill the lonely places in the heart and in the soul.

“Most of us have known, at one time or another, what it’s like to wander in wilderness places. We know what it’s like to experience the vast, barren wilderness of spiritual uncertainty. We have the memory of times in the uninhabited places of the soul where there was a wealth of nourishment all around us, yet we seemed to be swimming in chaos and confusion. We have each wrestled at one time or another with our understanding of God, self, and purpose.”[1]

Sometimes we feel led into such dry or chaotic places by the Spirit or Hand of God. Sometimes we inexplicably find ourselves feeling alone and wondering to ourselves, “What in the world happened? How did I get here?” Throughout our lives we have had many such experiences – will certainly have more – and we never particularly welcome or understand those experiences in the moment.

The wilderness can bring out feelings of emptiness, of loneliness, of dryness, or self-doubt. Wilderness often brings with it a sense of confusion and chaos. Wilderness experiences can be triggered by a sense of loss in our lives – or by events going on around us. Certainly things like sudden drops in the market or surprising illnesses like the Covid-19 scare can shift us out of our places of comfort and lead us into the wilderness.

Wilderness times are times of struggle – of conflict – of doubt, anger, and sadness. The time we spend in the wilderness places are times of hard work and forced reflection. If we’re honest with ourselves and each other, most of us would rather do without these sorts of empty, chaotic, and troublesome times in our lives. They are not times we usually actively seek out, but they are times which need to be acknowledged and studied – because it’s often the times we spend deep within the wilderness which usher in periods of new growth in our lives – much like the winter’s necessary prelude to spring.

Matthew tells us that after being baptized by John, the Spirit leads Jesus out into the wilderness where he is tempted, or tested, by the devil – who is also called the tempter. At first this seems like a strange way for God to treat Jesus – the one God had just claimed as Beloved Son – the One with whom God is well-pleased. And yet for us it is through Jesus’ internal struggle with self, with God, and with his purpose in life that he becomes in tune with a message of God’s presence, even in the most difficult of times. Jesus stands as an icon of what it means to struggle with the hard realities of life and only then can lead us forward without fear or anxiety. It is in the same sorts of struggles that Jesus faces in the wilderness that we are made ready to grow more and more into the image and likeness of God given to us at birth.

I doubt he welcomes the idea of being led, or as the Gospel of Mark puts it, being driven, into the wilderness. But like all parents, God cannot shield Jesus for ever – not if the work Jesus comes to accomplish is to have any integrity. The Beloved One must also grapple with the realities of life – hunger, fear, and ambition. Jesus is led into the wilderness because he has to hear the plausible voices of false alternatives in order to make a clear commitment to God’s truth. Jesus has to face the temptation of a quick fix; he has to face the chaos and pain that waits along the pathway ahead.

But Jesus does have a second alternative in today’s story – something other than the quick fix offered by the tempter. Jesus has the option to trust God – and to listen to God, and to listen to his own heart. Jesus is able to do so because he has immersed himself in the tradition of his forebears. He understands the heart of Torah teaching much more than the tempter does. Jesus chooses to confront the barren places in his own soul – allowing himself to hunger and thirst. When he finally sits on the side of the hill to teach, he will know what it means when he says, “Blessed are you who hunger and thirst – whether physically or spiritually – for you will be filled.” Jesus speaks from first-hand knowledge.

Jesus remembers that the wilderness is where many of his forebears met and were transformed by God. The spiritual wasteland is as much a place of covenantal betrothal by God and Israel as it is a place of testing. Jesus accepts the wilderness for what it is; a place and a time to struggle, to listen, and to grow. Jesus embraces his time in the wilderness – Jesus waits – and listens – and meditates – and makes important choices for his life. It is only after this time that his ministry can begin.

Today is the first Sunday in Lent and we have some choices to make for ourselves. Lent for each of us can stretch out, like a dry and barren wasteland for forty days as we await Easter. We don’t like facing the wilderness. We can look for quick fixes to fill any empty spaces which may seem to be pervading our lives right now – we may even find ourselves tempted to skip Lent and jump back in on Easter Day.

It’s very tempting – to take the quick-fix route since we live in a quick-fix age. People tell us, “Buy this item, it will make you happy. Take this pill – you don’t even need to exercise or change your diet and you’ll lose weight. Follow me and you will gain enlightenment in three easy steps.” Or they tell us to suck it up and be strong – ignore the wilderness – just make believe it’s not real. But they are wrong! As anxiety-provoking as the wilderness can be – the wilderness has always been a place where God has faithfully journeyed with God’s people.

As Christians we are called to follow Jesus the Christ, and that means following in the tough places as well as the easy ones. Seeking spiritual, emotional, and physical wholeness – what Jesus called the Shalom of God – is complicated. There are no quick fixes to human wholeness. That is why on Ash Wednesday we are invited into a time of self-examination and repentance; a time of prayer; and a time of immersing ourselves in reading and meditation on God’s Word.

There are no short cuts to a deep and abiding relationship with God and with one another. Jesus knows this and confronts the wilderness – he lives into the experience – allows it to suffuse his mind and body and spirit – and allows the experience to make him stronger – truer to himself and God.

The Good News for us is that we don’t have to enter into the wildernesses of our lives alone. There is One who has gone before us who knows the challenges that face every human heart – One who knows fear and anxiety and how it often seems to pound upon us relentlessly. With confidence and trust we can call upon God and call upon one another for support along the way. During our service for Billie Stevens just a short while back I shared a psalm written several years ago by my wife Lorraine. It opens with the lines, “I give my wilderness to you, O my God, I kneel before you in the dust. I feel you lift from my shoulders the burdens of my yesterdays…. You take my hand and lift me up.”[2]

We need not fear the wildernesses of our lives – for in the midst of that wilderness, we just may discover it is the very place where God is waiting to meet us.

---

[1] H. King Oehmig, Synthesis Commentary, Year A, 493

[2] Lorraine Ljunggren, A New Psalm (parts of the first two stanzas)