Lent 3 Sermon
The Rev. Peter M. Carey
Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Greenwood, VA
In the Episcopal Diocese of Virginia
Jesus got hungry. Jesus got thirsty. Jesus was grouchy. Jesus was human.
These are strange thoughts, perhaps. To think of Jesus in these pedestrian ways. Especially as we walk the way with him as he travels through the wilderness of the 40 days of Temptation. It is customary for me to think of him as some kind of a superman, with all kinds of powers at his command, with wings on his feet, with x-ray vision like Superman, with aqua-communication skills like Aquaman, with the ability to stretch himself around corners like Mrs. Incredible, with powers of transformation like the Wonder Twins.
Don’t we think of Jesus this way? Well, we think of him this way, and we are also challenged by these descriptions, no? We have these miracles of Jesus – walking on water – turning water into wine – calming the sea. Surely, if Jesus could do all things with water, couldn’t he just conjure up something to drink??
You see, we all need water, we need water to live. We can go for awhile without food, but we can only last so long without water. Are you feeling thirsty? I know I am.
Good.
Jesus got hungry. Jesus got thirsty. Jesus was grouchy. Jesus was human. We might imagine that Jesus was always whipping up some things for his disciples and for himself. Maybe some hummus and pita, perhaps some feta cheese, some olives, and a bottle of wine. A little picnic under a fig tree next to the Sea of Galilee. This guy must have been great to travel with, eh? Well, actually, it seems that Jesus was (annoyingly, perhaps) a bit discerning about whether to use these powers. Sometimes he would raise people from the dead, or cast out some demons, or take on the religious power structure, or walk straight through a crowd that wanted to kill him. Other times, he just hoped someone would give him a glass of water.
The rational part of our brain has a hard time with the miracles of Jesus – and Thomas Jefferson was perhaps looking out over this valley when he famously took scissors to the Bible to remove all the miracles of our savior. However, we are also challenged by stories in which Jesus is really quite human – born as a child in a feed trough, asking for water, walking humbly on the earth, never really calling anywhere home, hanging around with scandalous people, caring for the cursed sick, foreigners and nar-do-wels.
Jesus’ humanity is essential, however. He is not a Zeus who comes down to be among us merely in the “form” of a human, or a swan, or whatever. You see, Jesus becomes human, and in becoming human he also gets hungry, gets thirsty, gets grouchy, and all the rest. Of course, we believe that Jesus was human, “as we are, but did not sin,” but being grouchy or thirsty or hungry are not sins. Nope. So there.
And so, in the backdrop of this story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well is the story of Moses, who famously goes out to a rock and with the help of his trusty (magical wand?) stick and the power of Yahweh, he gets water. You see, you can get water from stone! Moses struck the rock and water was given by God for the people.
In the story of Jesus with the woman at the well from John’s gospel we have a variety of things happening at once. This is a story to read, mark, and inwardly digest. Just wonderful!
It is a story of Jesus encountering a woman who is not seen as part of the community of the faithful. So Jesus encounters this woman, who is both foreigner and is oppressed due to her gender. Jesus encounters and engages with this person who he might have merely ignored or refused to acknowledge. And, John recounts the story.
It is a story of teaching about the “living water” – the metaphorical messages of John’s gospel go deep and deep and deeper. The metaphors and encircling meaning around the Johannine Jesus and his Christology are hard to unwrap – but are essential to unwrap – if we are to understand and know Jesus.
It is a story that might just leave out the most important line. We’ll get to this in just a bit.
A Samaritan woman came to draw out water, carrying her jug for water, dirt on her feet, and clearly focused on the job at hand. She knew better than to engage or speak with the Jew from the Davidic line at the well. She went about her business. Then he rudely spoke “give me a drink” – he had been waiting for the disciples to bring back some food and they were late again, getting waylaid. To me, he seems grumpy, parched, tired. She challenged him, “who are you to ask for water from me? You know the rules, you know the norms, come on – why are you embarrassing yourself, and me. Let me go about my way.” But he slipped into teaching mode, and proclaimed that “if you knew me” you would have stepped out and asked me for water, I would have given you living water.
Huh? What’cha talking about? You don’t even have a bucket. But he said, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but the that I give is a foretaste of the water in the kingdom. It is the water that nourishes you deeper than your bones – for your bones it is marrow, for your blood it is fully oxegenated. The water I give will become in them a spring of water gushing to eternal life!
Well, what are you waiting for, give me some.
Ah, not so quick, call your husband and come back.
But I have no husband.
You are right. I know you. I know your struggles with your five husbands. I know your journey. I know all about you, and yet, I am still here with you. {I know you, and I love you.}
You sound like a prophet. But the prophets worshipped on this mountain – where Moses struck the rock.
“But the hours is coming and is now here when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as those to worship him.”
The Woman said to him,”I know that Messiah is coming. When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.”
Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
And she goes, proclaiming the good news as she heard it. I met a man who knew everything about me. {And he loved me anyway!} This is the line that is most definitely left out. Jesus knew her, and loved her. Jesus knows us, and loves us.
Thank God for this Samaritan woman, because she is us. And We are her. WE are the ones who encounter Jesus and he asks us for something to drink. He is the neighbor in need; he is the vulnerable in our midst; he is the prisoner alone. We like to think about Jesus as a super hero, but the essence of Jesus is that he is super in ways quite unlike our best imaginings.
He appears to us as stranger, as a person, and asks for something to drink, and we encounter Jesus and we respond, what are you doing to talk to me. You are wholly “Other” and you know that the God in our mist should not be talking with the likes of me! And then, he says that he has power that will give us life abundantly, life forever. Do we hear? Do we really hear these words. He has come to give us life and give it abundantly! (John 10:10)
He blesses us, and we still question him. Then he tells us all that we have ever done, he knows us down to our very bones {And he loves us anyway}. Thank God for the Samaritan woman, because she is us, and we are her. She deems herself unworthy, but Jesus encounters her as a human and as the Christ. He asks her for something to drink, but gives her living water. He comes to her as a person who is wholly “other” and yet when he goes, she is transformed, and cannot stop telling others about it. Her encounter is an experience, it is felt inside, it is body as well as mind. The gifts of God pour out for her like an abundant stream in the midst of the desert of life. He knew all about her, and loved her anyway. He knows all about us, and loves us as well. The gifts of God pour out for us as an abundant stream in the midst of the desert of our lives.
Come
Abide with me
Come to my abode
For I know you
I know everything you have ever done
I know you down to your bones
I know your deepest closets
I know what is shoved under your beds
I know your piles of dirty laundry
I know everything about you
And yet
I love you
Come
Abide with me.
Let us go forth into the world, rejoicing in the power of the living water!
