“Never Be
Thirsty Again”
A Communion Meditation Preached by the
Rev. Jean Niven Lenk
Sunday, September 2, 2012
First Congregational Church of Stoughton, United
Church of Christ
Text: John 4:3-42
It
is a hot day in first century Palestine.
Jesus
is traveling back to Galilee with his disciples after spending time in Jerusalem
where he has been preaching and teaching about the Kingdom of God. The trip from Judea to Galilee is long – even
though Jesus is taking the short route.
Normally, he and his disciples would have added an extra day to their
travels simply to avoid passing through Samaria – a kind of first-century
equivalent of crossing over to the other side of the street to avoid someone.
But
we read in John’s gospel that Jesus “had to” go through Samaria – he was
compelled, he was called by God to go through the land of the hated Samaritans.
As
they near the town of Sychar, the disciples go off to buy some food to satisfy
their hunger. But Jesus is thirsty for a
cool drink. And so, as the hot noon-time
sun beats down, he takes a seat by the well that, for generations, his
ancestors in faith -- all the way back
to Jacob -- have been coming to to quench their thirst.
Jesus
– hot, weary, and thirsty from his journey – takes a break by the well, and realizes
he has no means for drawing the cool, fresh water which is so vital to life and
which he needs to refresh and renew his parched and dehydrated body. But he is not alone; someone else is out in
the midday heat, and she’s ladling water into her jug with a cup. She has what he needs to quench his thirst,
and so he begins to speak with her. And
in doing so, he breaks all the written and unwritten rules of the day.
First,
she is a woman. In the patriarchal
society of first century Palestine, women have no status of their own. They are to be neither seen nor heard,
especially not by holy men, who do not even speak to their own wives in
public. Women are, in every sense of the
word, the property of their men – no better than slaves or animals.
But
it doesn’t stop there. This woman is a
Samaritan, and in Jesus’ time, Jews consider Samaritans half-breed, pagan
outcasts and despise them for intermarrying with foreigners.
Moreover,
this woman is an outcast among her own people, for over the years she has looked
for love, and acceptance, and validation in all the wrong places. No one wants to lug a jar heavy with water
back to the village when the sun is sweltering high in the sky. But, pushed to the outskirts and marginalized
by society, she avoids coming to the well in the coolers hours of the day when
she would have to face the other women of the village. They come to that meeting place not only to
fill their jugs but also to chitchat, enjoying companionships that first
century marriages don’t offer, and surely a woman who has had so many men would
be prime grist for their gossip mill.
So
instead, the Samaritan woman, an outcast among outcasts, comes to the well in
the oppressive heat of the noonday sun in order to be alone and avoid the
scornful ridicule and judgmental glances and whispered comments of others.
But
now here is this man -- and a Jewish man, to boot -- who starts talking with
her!
“Give
me a drink.” That’s how I imagine Jesus
saying those words -- not in a demanding, overbearing way, but maybe with a
smile at her obvious surprise that he is speaking to her at all, a smile that
says, “It’s OK – let’s talk.”
And
so, at his invitation, she responds by participating in the socially
unacceptable exchange. After all, she
has nothing left in her he life to lose.
Her dignity, her self-respect, her hope are all depleted.
She
draws him cup from the well, and then he begins to speak with her about a
different kind of water – not the kind that will satisfy physical thirst, but
rather something he calls “living water,” the kind that will quench the thirst
in her soul and transform her parched, brittle and dried up life.
She
drinks in all that he has to say and asks how she might get some of this living
water. And Jesus begins speaking to the
deep well of her soul. With his words,
he says, “I know all about you. I know
everything you have done. I know the
mistakes and the heartaches of your past; I know your loneliness, your regret,
your emptiness, and your yearning. I
have taken this path through Samaria so that you and I could meet at this
well. I have come seeking you out, and I
bring you what you need.”
The
Gospel of John doesn’t tell us why her marriages have ended, but the reasons
don’t matter to Jesus. Because while the
world’s acceptance is often based on who we’re with, or how we act, or what we
look like, or how we conform to the written and unwritten laws of social
convention, Jesus comes to proclaim that no one is beyond the reach of God’s
love and acceptance. Whether it’s in the
darkest night of our souls or in the withering sunlight of our days, God meets
us where we are with a reservoir of unconditional love, forgiveness, mercy and
grace.
Jesus
offers the Samaritan woman the living water she needs for abundant life, revealing
to her that he is the Messiah. And by
the end of their conversation, she’s left behind her water jug – and her
scorched and shriveled life – and is rushing into the very center of the
village, demanding to be heard by the very people who reject her.
And
because of the testimony of this once-marginalized, once-despised,
once-hopeless woman, many people come to believe that Jesus is the long-awaited
Messiah.
Thirst
is not just a biological condition.
Thirst is a metaphor for every ache, every longing, every yearning we
might have. Thirst is whatever depletes
life, or kills love, or keeps us from wholeness; whatever prevents us from
experiencing life’s joy and possibility.
What burdens do you carry to the well today? A disappointment, a failure, a betrayal?
What has left you parched and brittle – a grief, a guilt, a shame, a sorrow, a pain, a regret?
What in your life is dried up – your hopes, your dreams, your faith?
We all thirst – and like he did to the Samaritan woman, Jesus speaks to us this morning, offering us what cannot be found anywhere else – not in power or pills or possessions or money, not in self-help books or one-night stands. What Jesus offers us is living water – pure, refreshing, eternal – that will slake any thirst and transform even the most parched, arid, and brittle parts of our lives into fountains of joy and oases of wholeness.
When Jesus and the Samaritan woman meet, they are able to quench
each other’s thirst. She gives him the
clear, cool water that sustains earthly life, and he offers to her – and all of
us – the living water which satisfies our thirsty hearts and souls and brings
us healing, wholeness, forgiveness, and new life, that we may never be thirsty
again. Amen.
