St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ
March 23, 2014
Year A: The Third Sunday in Lent
Exodus 17:1-7
Psalm 95
Romans 5:1-11
John 4:5-42
Cosmic Thoughts
Lately
I’ve been thinking about space.
Not
space in the sense that we need more space here at St. Paul’s, though that’s
true enough, but space like… the universe.
You
may have seen the story in the news this past week that scientists have
observed evidence of the first moments of the universe. I won’t even try to
explain how scientists have figured this out – it involves using radio
telescopes to observe ripples in space-time - but it seems that right after the
so-called “Big Bang,” when the universe was only trillionth of a trillionth of
a trillionth second old it expanded at a speed far greater than the speed of
light – in the first moment the universe went from nothing to become, well, the
universe.
And
these same scientists go even further, speculating that our universe may be
just one of an infinite number of universes. The New York Times described it this way:
“…beyond
our own universe there might be an endless number of other universes bubbling
into frothy eternity like a pot of pasta bubbling over.”
Hmm.
And
then I’ve also been watching the new version of the TV show, Cosmos.
Anybody
else seen it?
It’s
very well done with outstanding special effects.
The
first episode explored the mind-blowing vastness of our universe – and the
unfathomable vastness of infinite universes beyond our own.
Now,
I don’t know about you, but, while this stuff is fascinating, I also find it a
little upsetting, even a little depressing.
Trying
to wrap my head around the great age of the universe – some 14 billion years –
and the vastness of just our universe not to mention infinite universes gets me
feeling really, really small and really unimportant.
Of
course, you don’t have to think about space to feel unimportant. Probably all
of us feel that way at least sometimes.
Ever
feel like nobody pays any attention to you? That nobody bothers to really get
to know you?
At
school we may feel small and unimportant if we’re not on the honor roll or if
we’re not a good athlete. At work we may feel small and unimportant if we get
passed over for a promotion or a raise or, worse, if we’re laid off. If we’re
older we may feel small and unimportant when people no longer take us
seriously, no longer think we have anything to contribute. I could go on.
All
of us at one time or another – maybe a lot of the time – feel small and
unimportant.
Well,
at the heart of Christianity, there is a mind-blowing idea – the idea, the
faith, the wondrous realization that the God who flipped that first cosmic
switch – the Spirit who made everything out of nothing – the Source of all that
is and ever will be - actually knows us and truly cares about seemingly
small and unimportant people like us.
In
today’s gospel lesson, we meet someone who probably felt pretty unimportant:
the unnamed Samaritan woman who has a mind-blowing encounter with Jesus at the
well.
It’s
a rich and complex story filled with lots of telling details.
We
tend to have very positive feelings about Samaritans thanks mostly to the
Parable of the Good Samaritan. But, Jews of the First Century would not have
felt so positively about the Samaritans.
The
Samaritans were descended from the old northern kingdom of Israel that had been
destroyed back in the early 700s BC. But they had intermingled with other
people and that made them, in the eyes of the Jews, no longer really part of
the family.
Although
split off from the Jews, the Samaritans continued to follow the Pentateuch –
the first five books of the Bible. But they didn’t recognize the Temple in
Jerusalem instead worshiping God on Mount Gerizim. That was another source of
friction with their Jewish cousins.
So,
here’s Jesus cutting through Samaria on his way from Judea back home to
Galilee. It’s likely that Jews in Samaria would have kept a low profile, trying
to avoid any encounters with Samaritans. And the feeling was probably mutual.
Anyway,
Jesus sends the disciples to go buy food, sits at the well to rest, and when a
Samaritan woman approaches, he speaks to her, “Give me a drink.”
We
aren’t told her name but if we pay attention to the details we learn some
important things about this woman. Notice we’re told that the encounter she has
with Jesus at the well took place around noon. Doesn’t make much sense to draw
water from a well in the middle of the day – the hottest part of the day. And
where’s everybody else? They drew their water in the morning or will be there
later in the evening.
So,
the woman is alone at the well. And in her conversation with Jesus we learn
that she has had a rather complicated, apparently difficult life. She says she
has had five husbands and the one she has now isn’t her husband. Hmm.
Jesus
does not condemn the woman but it’s fair to assume that this complicated
personal life has made her an outcast in her community – an unimportant, maybe
even despised, person who chooses – or is forced - to draw water from a well in
the middle of the day when no one else is around.
And
there at the well Jesus and the woman have a conversation not so different in
some ways from the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus that we heard last
week. Remember how Jesus and Nicodemus were talking on two different levels?
Jesus says you must be born again and Nicodemus wonders how a man can enter his
mother’s womb and be born a second time.
Well,
in this case the woman is understandably suspicious of this odd Jewish man who
is asking her for water. They really shouldn’t even be speaking to each other!
Then
Jesus says, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is saying to you, ‘Give me
a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”
Now,
the woman has no idea what this strange man is talking about. She sensibly
points out that this is awfully big talk for guy with no bucket. And, the well
is deep.
But,
like Nicodemus, though she doesn’t really understand she is intrigued by
this stranger and by his mysterious words. She wants this living water – this
living water that she doesn’t understand – this living water that quenches
thirst for ever.
Jesus
then addresses part of the Jewish-Samaritan conflict over what’s the right
place to worship: Mt. Gerizim or the Jerusalem Temple. Essentially, Jesus says it
doesn’t really matter anymore where we worship. What matters is how we worship.
Jesus
says, “God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship him in spirit and
in truth.”
And
then finally in a remarkable moment Jesus reveals to this unnamed woman – this
nobody – this outcast with a complicated past – Jesus reveals to this seemingly
unimportant woman that he is the Messiah.
The
woman leaves her water jar – that’s no longer so important, is it? – and runs
off to the city. She tells the people, “Come and see a man who told me
everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?”
“Come
and see a man who told me everything I have ever done.”
This
unnamed woman – this outcast with a complicated past – realizes that she is
known – really known. She realizes that she is known, warts and all, and yet
she is not condemned. She is really known and for her this is good news that
she can’t wait to share with others.
The
Samaritan woman at the well, you and I, all of us, live in an incomprehensibly
vast universe – or maybe even more incomprehensible than that - an infinite
number of universes.
And,
all of us at one time or another – maybe a lot of the time – feel small and
unimportant.
And
yet, at the heart of Christianity, at the core of our experience as Christians
there is the mind-blowing idea – the idea, the faith, the wondrous realization
that the God who flipped that first cosmic switch – the Spirit who made
everything out of nothing – the Source of all that is and ever will be -
actually knows us and truly cares about seemingly small and
unimportant people like the woman at the well.
No
matter what we’ve done or haven’t done, no matter how complicated our
lives have been, God who is Spirit knows and cares about seemingly small and
unimportant people just like us.
That’s
good news worth sharing.
Amen.
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