Lent 3

Lent 3/2017

John 4:5-42

There is an artist-Frank Warren, who started a blog called Post Secret back  in 2004.  It began as a temporary community art project. He invited people to mail in postcards that they had decorated and that had one of their secrets written on it. The submission was anonymous, and the requirement was that it had to be a secret you had never shared with anyone else.  Believe it or not, PostSecret still generates thousands of postcards.  Frank Warren reads them all and picks ten to twenty to post on his blog every Sunday. He has published several books that are compilations of these “secret” postcards.  I have one of his books.  Here are a few of the secrets that he has received and published.  Some are wrenching, like this:  “I wish my parents said I LOVE YOU.  I can’t remember hearing them say it-EVER.”  or this:   “All my life, people told me I wasn’t special…I’m very easy to replace.  After 43 years, it has finally sunk in.  I get it.”  Some are amusing like this: “I paid an F student $50 to give my valedictorian speech, and it was way better than mine would have been” or “I stole valium from my epileptic dog.” and some are hopeful like this:  “ I believe I will accomplish something truly great in this lifetime.  I am going to be 53 tomorrow.”  It is fascinating to me that people are willing to share their most intimate secrets anonymously yet also with the possibility that those secrets might be published.  I wonder, was it cathartic releasing one’s secrets into the universe?  was it healing to name something hidden and, in many cases painful-even to just a stranger?  

In our Gospel story, we encounter a Samaritan woman who meets a stranger at the well.  They strike up a conversation.  He asks her for water.  She is shocked by his request-him being a Jew and she being a Samaritan.  And he goes on to talk about the living water he offers.  Her curiosity is piqued.  What IS this living water?  This stranger then goes on to name and describe her situation-she of many husbands.  She is stunned.  How could a stranger-and a Jew to boot-know her painful story?  This stranger, whom we know as Jesus, has not only gotten her full attention, but she now realizes that he is special.  A prophet. And as their conversation continues, she realizes that he is not just prophet but he is the Messiah.  Her turning towards him began when she realized Jesus knew who she was-in all of her complexity, brokenness, and need.  Even her deepest darkest secrets were known to him.  And in the face of being known, she wasn’t judged or condemned.  Rather, she was known and loved.

When I was 16, I was depressed and struggling.  On a Friday night, I was with my high school friends at my church’s coffee house.  I was completely out of sorts.  So, I went to my church’s side chapel and poured my heart out to God, who quite frankly I really didn’t feel much connection to.  Honestly, I didn’t expect any result whatsoever-but I couldn’t think of anything else to do.  It was a stab in the dark.  But something very powerful happened that night.  I felt God’s love filling me and holding me.  Until then, God had seemed distant and far away.  This experience was just the opposite.  It was like God was right there with me.  I suddenly knew in a powerful way that I was loved and accepted for who I was.  Secrets and all.  That was a huge turning point for me.  I think something similar happened to this woman we hear about in today’s story.

Through the years, people have judged this woman, assumed she was disreputable in some way.  But this is unsubstantiated.   In her day and age, a woman was property.  So, if you didn’t have the protection of a man by marriage, or men plural, you were sunk.  What happened to her husbands?   Death, divorce?  Who knows her real story?  When we meet her, she is living with a man…and why shouldn’t she be-for if she hadn’t been, she would have been out on the streets living as a beggar.  There is something to be said for her sense of self-preservation.  What is clear to me-as I lived with this story this week-is that Jesus speaks the truth to her, and he does it without condemnation.  There is an incredible vein of compassion throughout this story.  We humans are far too quick to make judgements about each other.  As the conversation between the two of them continues, they hit on the topic of where the best place is to worship, which is a sore point between the Jews and the Samaritans.  The woman at the well asks Jesus about this, to which he responds:  “The time is coming-in fact has come-when what you are called will not matter and where you go to worship will not matter.  It is WHO YOU ARE and the WAY YOU LIVE YOUR LIFE that counts before God.”  This is radical stuff for back then.  No Temple, no chosen people. That is earthshaking.  His words are both radical and simple for us, too.  It is who you are and the way you live your life that counts.  Jesus is reminding us to refrain from judging others and instead to focus on who WE are.  To DO the rich deep work of the soul.  To be honest and tender in our self-examination.  To not condemn others but rather to work on our own shortcomings.  What flows from this ongoing lifelong process IS a life that radiates love-because it starts with and is steeped in self-compassion and humility.  When we are compassionate with ourselves, we can then be compassionate with others.

What happens then is the woman at the well runs back to her village to spread the word.  And all of the townspeople come to the well to meet Jesus.  And he spends 2 days with them.  And many become his disciples.  He spends 2 days with them.  That leapt out at me.  I don’t remember that piece of the story from earlier readings.  Jesus was willing to turn a slight detour for water into an expansive time of being with them, sharing himself, teaching them, loving them, knowing them.
  

We are in too much of a hurry most of the time. I know I am.  I have my “to do” lists and there is an amazing amount of fulfillment and satisfaction when I am able to cross things off that list.  It makes me feel better about who I am.  Productive.  Useful.  But, if I’m honest, the most satisfying moments are often the ones that I haven’t scheduled or scripted.  The spontaneous things that crop up, and often spark serendipity. The 2 days Jesus spent with them may just be the best part of today’s story-he made a detour turn into a love-fest.  He veered off course, and  ended up with a whole gaggle of new converts.  Samaritans, to boot.  The lesson for us?  Expect the unexpected.  Be open to veering off course.  Entertain strangers-you may just be entertaining angels unawares.  Slow down.  Pay attention.  Watch out.  Your detours may just become love-fests!

Jesus is of course the hero of the story.  But so is this magnificent woman who brought an entire village to God. In the Orthodox Church she is known as Photini, which means light bearer. And her title in the Orthodox Church is Evangelist and Apostle.  Her feast day is February 26th.  Jesus knew her secrets.  He loved her with such tender compassion.  And this being known and loved without judgement moved her.  It made her want to follow him-to become a disciple.  And then the whole village followed.  

Interesting. When she ran to tell the village about Jesus, she left her water vessel behind at the well.  What happened was-in fact- SHE had become the vessel.  

Aren’t we called to become vessels too?

AMEN