Sermons from the Pulpit

     It was just about noontime, the time when the sun is at its highest and its hottest. But I needed water, and that was the only time of day I could go. So I carried my water jug and bucket to the well. And there I found him sitting, sitting by Jacob's well. It took me back a little, because usually when I come to the well at noon, no one is there--and certainly not a man. But he looked harmless enough and I needed my water for the day, so I went over to the well.

    As I began to draw water from the well, this man spoke to me. I'm not quite certain how, but I could tell he was Jewish--maybe it was his clothing, maybe it was his accent--I'm not sure. So, I was a little startled--after all--he was Jewish--he was a man--and he was speaking to me, a woman, a Samaritan woman, asking me for a drink of water.--After all, it was considered improper for a man to talk with any strange woman--but for a Jewish man to approach a Samaritan woman--that was to risk becoming unclean. I mean, Samaritans and Jews do not share anything, let alone the same drinking cup. What kind of response did he expect? And so, I asked him pointblank-- "How is it that you a Jew, ask a drink of me a woman of Samaria?"

    That's when our conversation starts to get interesting. He starts talking about some gift of God--that if I knew this gift and if I knew who he was, that I was would be asking him for this "living water." I knew that according to some, Jacob himself had drank water from this well without having to draw. That "living water" had risen to the surface for Jacob, and he drank. But there sat this man Jesus--no bucket, no rope--did he think he was as great as Jacob?---that the water would rise to the top just for him like it did for Jacob?

     But that wasn't what he meant. He wasn't talking about well water. He goes on to tell me if I drink of this living water, that I will never be thirsty again. Even then, I didn't get it. I thought he was talking about some magical water that would cure my thirst forever and I would never have to carry water back and forth from this well again. And so I ask him for it--this magical wonderwater.
    He tells me to go get my husband and come back... I tell him the truth--I don't have a husband.

    He just looked at me--Actually, he looked through me. He heard my word, but he heard everything beyond those words. He heard the truth--that I have no husband, but he saw the rest of the truth: I have had five husbands and now am with someone to whom I am not married.

    You know, a lot of people over the years have gotten really stuck on this part of my story--bible scholars, intellectuals, ministers--people who have told my story over and over again--with some not--so-nice comments about me and my five husbands--as if I were the Liz Taylor of ancient Samaria, trading in husbands like sports cars. But the truth is that in my day, women did not have that kind of choice.

    But Jesus did not get stuck on my past life. He had no desire to mock me or shame me or use my story as some kind of morality tale. Jesus' whole reason for talking with me was to connect with me, to allow me to know him, to allow him to know me. To help me recognize that I too--a woman, a Samarian woman with years and years of hurt--that I too am claimed by God as a child of God. To Jesus, I was a woman of infinite worth. In his eyes, I saw the recreation of that worth.

     A lot of people over the past 2000 years have tried to say that I was trying to draw Jesus' attention off of myself and my past when I asked him the question about where to worship. But I wasn't. This was the first time anyone had looked past everything to really see me. This was a man who was seeing me with the loving eyes of God. Surely such a man would have insights into solving this age-old dispute between the Samaritans and the Jews over where to worship.

    And he did, he really did! Certainly, he saw the Jews as more correct than the Samaritans--he was loyal to his people. But he also saw a time when worship would go beyond a mountain or a temple--that worship would be a matter of "spirit and truth."

    Jesus saw that the worship which God desires is a worship that is drawn from our very core, the place where we find ultimate value and meaning. It is a worship that demands integrity and commitment, commitment that lays claim on our entire being.

     So much in so little time--I had so many questions.

    Certainly, Jesus seemed like he could be the Messiah, the Christ--but I could not be certain, not at that moment. But I could not--I can not deny what happened that day.

     And so I pray that what happened for me in that day will happen for you in this day. I pray that barriers be broken, that personal and societal truths can no longer be used as places to hide, that because you know Jesus in all his fullness, you are able to worship God in spirit and in truth.