Saturday, March 22, 2014

Lent 3A "Water Talks"

I heard a Bishop from the Congolese Region of my Church speak one year at our annual gathering and he spoke about one of his first experiences of visiting the US.  He asked his host family if they could stop off at a store on the way from the airport so that he could get a toothbrush and some toothpaste.  They stopped and he went into the store; he was overwhelmed with the variety of toothpaste he had to choose from and with all the different types of tooth brushes.  He stood there for a while, just staring before choosing a toothbrush and some toothpaste.  They got back to the family’s house and he was asked if he would like something to drink.  He said Yes and then was asked if he wanted milk, juice, coffee, tea, soda, or water.  Again, he was overwhelmed with the choices.  He said, “If you come to visit me, and I ask if you want something to drink, you get water.  That’s all there is. Water.”
Have you ever looked for water in a convenience store or at a grocery store?  At our PX on Schwab we don’t have much; it’s a small PX.  But we have Dasani Water and Smart Water and DMZ Water and Diamond Water and Aquafina.  Who knew that water could be so complicated?
This conversation between Jesus and the unnamed Samaritan woman takes place at the water source for the village that Jesus and the disciples stop near; the water source for the village this woman calls home.  Jesus is, as the author of the gospel describes, tired out by his journey.  So when someone comes by the well to draw water he does what any one of us would do, he requests some water.  it’s not like Jesus has a variety of choices; there is the well or there is thirst.
There is some conversation about the cultural oddities of a Jewish man asking a Samaritan woman for a drink…because it would be odd enough were a Jewish man and a Samaritan man, because they hate one another so much; it would be even stranger were is a Jewish man conversing with a Jewish woman in public (especially a stranger…) but the clash of gender and the clash of ethnic identities is just too much.  So she asks, “Why?  Why would you talk to me?”
I know that’s not the way our translation worded it this morning, but that’s pretty much the underlying context of what she says.  She asks it for a variety of reasons: she’s come to the well in the middle of the day because—most scholars think—she is hoping to avoid others from her village; she’s surprised that Jewish male would speak to her, because men and women who are strangers to one another just don’t have conversation in public and if they are ethnic enemies the way Jews and Samaritans are, they really don’t have conversations in public.  Thirsty or not…why would you talk to me?
Really those types of encounters never fail to happen.  On a weekend morning, you’re just making a quick dash to the PX Express to get a few donuts and some orange juice, you’re in your sweats or your gym clothes, your hair is a glorious halo of bed head stuffed into a ball cap and all we want is to get in, get our stuff and get home.  We do not—DO NOT—want to bump into anyone.  In fact, we’re practically praying not to bump into anyone.  Which makes is pretty much inevitable, right?  It’s funny how God wants to talk to us at inopportune moments.
Jesus says to her, “If you knew who you were talking to, you would ask me for a drink and you’d get living water!”  This is such a loaded statement.  It’s loaded because “Living Water” is a term used to describe water that is flowing—streams, rivers, maybe artisan –as compared to water that is stored in cisterns or water that collects in wells.  That water, while drinkable and perfectly safe, is not living water; it may have a stagnant flavor to it.  Kind of like a glass of water that sits on your bedside table for a day or two or water from a water bull after a few days in the field; it’s potable, but stagnant.
So even from a simple and practical point of view, the offer of living water over the water stored in a well since the previous rain is much more appealing.  But Jesus is offering more than just fresh flowing H2O.  He’s offering relief from the stagnant stuff of life.  The stuff that we’ve become accustomed to may not be bad for us, per se, but it may not be as refreshing as what we’re really looking for.
My family bought a trailer out in the woods by a lake when I was growing up.  My Dad wanted a place for us to get away and have family time and it was a pretty neat place.  But it had a well, and the well water had a pretty high sulfur content.  Others around the area were used to it and they said, you’ll get used to it and it won’t bother you…which it won’t and it eventually didn’t…but it smelled so bad!  Sulfur water isn’t dangerous but it’s really unappealing because it smells like rotten eggs.
Jesus offers us living water.  The offer may come at inopportune times, times when we want nothing more than to just be alone, but the offer comes and with the offer of living water is the offer of transformation.  
The conversation between Jesus and the woman continues and they cover topics of spirituality and religion and they talk about prophets and the Messiah and human relationships and right as she’s beginning to really understand what’s going on, the disciples come back from their scouting expedition and the trip into town for some food.  They don’t say anything to her, or to Jesus, but sometimes you don’t have to actually speak to communicate what you’re thinking.  And she leaves.
But John includes an interesting detail.  He says, “Then the woman left here water jar and went back to the city.”  She left here water jar.  Her whole reason for going to the well was forgotten now that she’s met Christ.  The jars that would have been used to hold the well water are forgotten in lieu of the living water she’s received.
I think that’s what it’s really all about.  Encounters with Jesus and the experience of “Living water” are meant to move us beyond stagnant water, or routines of avoidance based on what others may believe about us.
We don’t know that this woman was “a sinner.”  All we know is that she’s had five husbands and the man she’s with now is not her husband.  That doesn’t make her “a sinner.”  She’s not in a position to divorce anyone, socially speaking; she doesn’t have any power to do that.  If she’s been widowed five times, that’s not really in her control either.  We don’t know that she’s done anything that would put her in the category of being “a sinner,” but we can infer that she certainly felt judged.  
Her encounter with Jesus and her experience with “Living Water” moves her beyond that.  Suddenly she’s met someone who, even though he knows and can tell her everything she’s ever done, has received her as one who is worthy of his time and attention.  Suddenly she is more than what others perceive of her.  And that is freedom.   That is liberation.  That is salvation.
Herni Nouwen speaks of the true self and the false self.  He says our false self is made up of voices that say “Prove you are worth something; so something spectacular, or powerful and then you will earn the love you so desire” and that many times our confidence and self-worth come from those voices.  Many of us do well in this; we succeed based on self-determination and the praise of our peers and superiors. He then says, “Beneath all my seemingly strong self-confidence there remained a question: ‘If all those who shower me with so much attention could see me and know me in my innermost self, would they still love me?’”(Life of the Beloved, p.34, 35).

Here is the One, sitting at the well, asking for a drink, who can tell you everything you have ever done, One who knows your innermost self, and says, “Yes, of course.  I know you.  And yes, of course.  I love you.”  You are more than what others perceive of you; you are Beloved.  And that reality is freedom.   That reality is liberation.  That reality is salvation.