St. Thomas’ Episcopal Church, Owings Mills MD
March 12, 2023
Year A: The Third Sunday in Lent
Exodus 17:1-7
Psalm 95
Romans 5:1-11
John 4:5-42
The Counter-Cultural Messiah
As you probably know, March is Women’s History Month.
And, not only that, but this past Wednesday, March 8, was International Women’s Day.
And, especially this year, as women’s rights and safety are threatened both here in our country and in many places around the world, it was especially moving to see so many people on social media posting photos of women who have shaped history, or who have just touched our lives.
On Wednesday, on International Women’s Day, our friend Dawn Eden Goldstein, the author of Father Ed, posted a quote that caught my eye and that I’ve been thinking about ever since.
It’s not a quote from a woman, but by another 20th Century Jesuit priest, someone previously unknown to me.
Based in Louisiana, back in the middle part of the last century, Fr. Louis Twomey was active in the fight for social justice and civil rights. And here’s his quote that caught my eye:
“All of us must certainly regret the tragedy of even having to talk about human rights after two thousand years of Christianity.”
I’m going to repeat that:
“All of us must certainly regret the tragedy of even having to talk about human rights after two thousand years of Christianity.”
Those powerful and haunting words echoed through my head as I reflected on today’s extraordinary (and extraordinarily long) Gospel lesson: Jesus and his disciples are in Samaria, and, while the disciples are off getting food, Jesus encounters a Samaritan woman at a well.
Because of the famous parable, we tend to think of Samaritans as “good,” but that would not have been the general feeling among Jesus’ people.
There was longstanding tension between Jews and Samaritans. Although they shared some history and the first five books of the Bible, they disagreed about lots of things, especially worship.
But there’s Jesus, not only in Samaria, but alone with a Samaritan woman – and not just any Samaritan woman but one who, we learn, has a complicated marital history and, let’s say, an “irregular” current relationship with a man, a man who is not her husband.
There’s Jesus alone with a Samaritan woman who, it seems, is an outcast in her own community.
Generally, people in hot climates draw water from wells early in the morning or later in the day, not under the scorching midday sun.
And they travel in groups, both for safety and companionship.
But this woman is alone, and quite shocked and confused that this Jewish man has appeared, asking her for a drink.
When she understandably hesitates at the oddness of this situation and request, Jesus begins to reveal his identity to her. Jesus says:
“If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.’”
And I love her reply:
“Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water?”
In other words, “living water” is pretty big talk for a guy with no bucket who just asked a Samaritan woman for a drink.
But, unlike Nicodemus who we met last week, unlike that teacher and leader of Israel who came to Jesus under the cover of dark, this woman – this outcast woman – she doesn’t try to figure it all out. All she knows is that living water sounds really good, if for no other reason than it will save her this daily trip to the well.
Jesus then seems to play a little bit, telling her to go call her husband. But, when she answers honestly, Jesus doesn’t condemn her – he praises her honesty!
And when Jesus reveals even more about her situation, she doesn’t run away in shame or terror, but she remains – courageous – recognizing that she is in the presence of a prophet.
And then, there’s the most remarkable moment of all.
The woman said to Jesus, “I know that Messiah is coming.”
And Jesus said, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
Right here, for the first time in the Gospel of John, Jesus reveals his true identity – not to his often-bumbling and confused disciples – not to the teacher and leader Nicodemus, but to a Samaritan woman – to an outcast several times over.
And what does she do with this information?
She doesn’t guard it like a secret.
She doesn’t hold it close like her own personal treasure.
No, she immediately goes to the city, to a place probably filled with people who know her whole story and who have judged and disdained her, people who are glad that she goes to the well alone – she goes to the city and she testifies about Jesus.
And, amazingly enough, a whole bunch of Samaritans, of all people, come to believe that Jesus is the Savior of the world.
What a story, right?
And, although this is an extraordinary encounter, it’s just one example of how countercultural Jesus lived his life and how he revealed God’s love.
The Good News wasn’t just for learned and powerful men like Nicodemus, but for everybody, very much including women – women like the Samaritan at the well – women like the sisters Mary and Martha – and, most of all, Mary Magdalene, who, on Easter morning, will echo the Samaritan woman when she rushes to tell the others that she had seen the Risen Lord.
Knowing all that, it is such a tragedy that it didn’t take too long for the Church to conveniently forget its countercultural roots, to become so much like the culture around it.
The Church quickly downplayed and restricted the roles of women.
The Church quickly forgot that we are meant to not only offer charity to the poor and the outcast but to welcome them into our community, to love them, and to share our greatest treasures with them.
Some of you may have seen the Christian TV commercials called “He Gets Us.” In certain circles, those ads caused quite a stir, a controversy which I’m definitely not getting into now.
However, at least one person noted that it’s not Jesus who needs a public relations overhaul – the Jesus who spoke with the Samaritan woman at the well – his reputation is just fine.
Not, it’s the Church that’s in trouble – the Church that forgot its countercultural roots and is now rejected by many for its hypocrisy, cruelty, its seeming irrelevance, and so many scandals.
But, just like Jesus and the Samaritan woman, we are not prisoners of our history.
With God’s help, we can really put into practice our Baptismal Covenant – seeking and serving Christ in everybody – respecting the dignity of every human being – loving our neighbor – yes, even the Samaritans – as ourselves.
And, if we do that, maybe, someday, human rights will simply be a given, and there will be no need to talk about them again.
May it be so.
Amen.
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