St. Paul's On-the-Hill Episcopal Church

The Rev. Stephen C. Holton, Rector

Lent 3; February 24, 2008

John 4:5-42

NOT SO TOUGH

Why did she go back? Why did the Samaritan woman go back to her village? Why did she talk to those people ever again? Where did she find the strength?

If she was at the well at midday, we know she was ostracized by her so-called friends. We know they didn't want her around.

Most sane people went to the well at the beginning of the day, and the end of the day, when it was cooler. It would have been a time of great socializing. At the beginning of the day it would be: “What are you going to do today? Can you help me with this chore later on? Sure.” At the end of the day it would be: “What happened today? You'll never guess. Won't you join us for dinner?”

Not her. She's here in the middle of the day. No news, no friendship. Just a long, slow, hot walk all by herself to the well, maybe a few moments of rest alone when she got there, and a long, slow, hot walk home; back to the so-called friends she lived with.

Why was she rejected, excluded? Because of those 5 husbands Jesus spoke about. He must have been a prophet, as she said, or he would not have known. But seeing a woman alone in the middle of the day, he must have known something was up.

She was a prostitute – hence the rejection; a prostitute of some kind or another. Those 5 husbands could refer to those 5 gods of the Samaritans of which she was the temple priestess and prostitute – and people would have come to the temple to 'worship' as it were, uniting with the god in this unusual but socially sanctioned way throughout the ancient world. Or she was a real prostitute, and people would have come to her house without social sanction.

“Sir, I see you are a prophet.” Sir, I see you know what I am and what I've done. Sir, I see you don't care about naming my hurt. Sir, I see you have no delicacy. Sir, I see that – despite your gentle demeanor – you don't mind making fun of me, and bringing shame just like all those other people do. Are you going to reject me too? Judge me too? Exclude me too?

Jesus keeps talking to her. He does not withdraw the offer of living water. It does not matter to him if he is a Jew and she is a Samaritan. It doesn't matter to him if he is a man and she is a woman alone, men and women wouldn't have talked to each other if they did not know each other, in those days. But Jesus will break all kinds of rules to talk with her. He will break through all kinds of barriers to be with her. He doesn't care what it takes – and what people will think – if it means giving her new life.

Yes, he knows who she is. He loves her anyway.

The woman is so overjoyed by this company in the midst of her isolation, this love in the midst of her vulnerability and rejection, that she goes right back to her village to tell them, to tell those people who rejected her and isolated her; and to bring them back to him, to give them the life – the eternal waters of eternal life – that she has been given.

She will bring them back to Christ, and to that well where she met him, the one who accepted her. For the well in the middle of loneliness has now become the site of new life, and new community, and new love.

How did you get here? Were you rejected and looking for strength? Were you isolated and looking for company? Were you at the end of your intellectual rope and looking for answers?

Welcome. He welcomes you. He welcomes us.

He sits on the edge of the well, sits on the edge of the step over there by the altar and says: “What's your problem?” “What's your situation?” “I know exactly what it is,” he says. “O Lord, to whom all hearts are open, all desires known and from whom no secrets are hid,” we pray in the opening Collect for Purity every Sunday, “cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit.”

Sure, he can do that. He's done that for centuries. But you have to ask. You have to allow him in to do the work. He's not going to invade on his own. You have to invite him in for he will only come in gently, if he's allowed in.

So its very vulnerable to be here. No more Mr. Tough Guy. No more Ms. Tough Lady. No more; “It doesn't matter to me what they think of me, I can take it.”

No you can't. He knows that. 'Fess up, and he can make you clean and whole. We have the Confession every Sunday in Lent where we can do that. We have the Eucharist – the “Great Thanksgiving” we call it, every Sunday too where we can rejoice and give thanks in his acceptance.

What then? Well, there are all those other people out there; all those other people around whom we acted so tough; but we're not so tough, now, are we?

He's actually made us not so tough. Jesus has actually loved us, accepted us and healed us to the point that we don't have to be so tough. Our shell has been melted by his living water and our tears. Our empty soul – the one that didn't need anything or anyone to get through life – has been filled up with his living water of love.

There is so much love in our hearts now, from him, that we can go back to them – the ones who didn't care about us, who rejected us and didn't ever value us – and tell them about him. How's that for embracing our vulnerability? How's that for not being so tough, any more?

We can do it because we are filled with his love now, not ours. Ours is just barely enough to help us struggle through life, with barely enough left over for anyone else.

His is enough to help us talk to that stranger, and that stranger, and that stranger and that friend and even that enemy.

His love is enough for us even to look different, and not just act different. So others say – 'what's gotten into you? You're not the same person I rejected the other day. Something's come over you. Something's gotten into you.'

Not something, but Someone. Someone whom we met on the very edge of our lives, on the edge of rejection, on the edge of society. For Jesus always comes to us on the edges of our lives and at the edges of society.

And his love is enough to get into everyone, into the Samaritan men too, into those content with their lives too, those who look like they have all the answers – but don't really. Those trapped in the social structures of the world, those who seem successful and accepted – but feel lost and rejected and malnourished by society. Jesus' love and acceptance comes to them too, if you bring it to them.

He can come to all people, inside and outside society, until around that well on the edge of town, around this altar on the edge of town, you have all these people, vulnerable and invulnerable, strong and weak, accepted and rejected, all now accepted by him, and accepting him into their lives, and accepting each other into their lives; now one life, one community of grace and peace around the one shepherd, the one savior, Jesus, the one lover of all our souls.