March 15, 2020, One Body—Living Water; ICCM; John 4: 5-42; Pastor Rebecca Ellenson
There is a hymn for holy communion called One Bread, One Body that goes like this. One bread, one body, one Lord of all; one cup of blessing which we bless, and we though many throughout the earth we are one body in this one Lord. Gentile or Jew, servant or free, woman or man, no more. Many the gifts, many the works, one in the Lord of all.
We are One Body, the Body of Christ, with various gifts and talents, interdependently entwined. Our gathering for worship today feels poignant to me. We come here as the Psalmist said, to sing, to make a joyful noise, to give thanks and praise, to bow down and bend the knee. It is so good to be together. This is our lifeblood—our community, a place to give, to serve, to support, to grow, to be held in prayer and Christian love.
The decision to suspend our services for this season is hard. We will miss this sharing of physical presence with each other. Some may think this is a premature overreaction. I hope they are right and this whole mess does not materialize as the scientists and mathematicians are predicting, and as has happened in Europe, China, Korea, and as is happening in the United States and Canada already. But I think that is wishful thinking.
I believe the decision will contribute to a greater good. Those of us who are here may be healthy. If we contract the virus it may be no more than something like the common cold. But we are acting as the Body, linked together with all of God’s creation, with those who are very old, with those who are frail, with those whose underlying health conditions put them at greater risk. We are acting to protect the medical workers who will be overtaxed as the outbreak happens and community transmission begins. We are acting on behalf of those we may never meet. We all need this pandemic to move slowly enough for our collective medical systems to hold the very ill so that all of the very ill can be taken care of. Hospitals, doctors, nurses, and orderlies are a precious and limited resource. We are protecting them in our action.
Perhaps you’ve seen this story online. I read it again this week and thought it most appropriate for today.
A man was asked to paint a boat. He brought his paint and brushes and began to paint the boat a bright red, as the owner asked him. While painting, he noticed a small hole in the hull, and quietly repaired it. When he finished painting, he received his money and left.
The next day, the owner of the boat came to the painter and presented him with a nice check, much higher than the payment for painting. The painter was surprised and said “You’ve already paid me for painting the boat Sir!”
“But this is not for the paint job. It’s for repairing the hole in the boat.”
“Ah! But it was such a small service… certainly it’s not worth paying me such a high amount for something so insignificant.”
“My dear friend, you do not understand. Let me tell you what happened:
“When I asked you to paint the boat, I forgot to mention the hole.
“When the boat dried, my kids took the boat and went on a fishing trip.
“They did not know that there was a hole. I was not at home at that time.
“When I returned and noticed they had taken the boat, I was desperate because I remembered that the boat had a hole.
“Imagine my relief and joy when I saw them returning from fishing.
“Then, I examined the boat and found that you had repaired the hole!
“You see, now, what you did? You saved the life of my children! I do not have enough money to pay your ‘small’ good deed.”
The careful decisions we and others make for the sake of those in need may be like repairing all the ‘leaks’ we find. We may never know who we are protecting.
Most of the time when we think about how we are the Body of Christ, we think of it in terms of our own congregations or families. This pandemic offers us an opportunity to see how truly connected all of God’s world is. China, to Italy, to Mexico, or Canada or the US. We are all one body, interdependent and in relationship, even when we can’t see that connection or feel it.
In our gospel today Jesus is alone in the desert. He encounters a woman and has his longest recorded conversation in all of the gospels. The woman, whose name is never revealed, is out in the heat of noonday because she has been ostracized and shunned, and is on her own to provide for her most basic needs. No father, husband, brother or son is around to look after her. And there is no group of women to share her story, wipe her tears or help her to laugh.
Jesus needs to drink fresh water to live. The woman also needs a drink: she needs the fresh, living water of grace and truth only Jesus can provide to drink deep of healing and wholeness and a new life. And in their various needs, these two affirm their mutual humanity. They share in the holy Source of Life that transcends all boundary, custom, hatred, fear and scarcity.
In the desert at noon, with all distraction stripped away, all shadows erased, the light shines bright enough for these two strangers to discover that they need each other. As they are transfigured in the light of the noonday sun, each enemy sees the face of a friend. Distance dissolves into relationship. Enmity melts into mutuality. They glimpse a spiritual wholeness, a new healing reality.
Jesus models a barrier-breaking relationship of mutuality and compassion. The woman is bold enough to both remind Jesus of what separates them—he a Jew and she a Samaritan—and of what connects them—their ancestor Jacob. She is audacious and spars verbally with this strange man. In their truth-telling, she experiences him as prophet and in turn she is acclaimed for speaking the word.
To this day, the Samaritan woman is honored in many cultures. In southern Mexico, La Samaritana is remembered on the fourth Friday in Lent, this week in fact. Aguas flavored with chilacoyota, tamarindo, jamaica and horchata are given to commemorate her gift of water to Jesus. The Orthodox know her as St. Photini, or Svetlana in Russian. Her name means “equal to the apostles,” and she is honored as apostle and martyr on the Feast of the Samaritan Woman.
The gospel witnesses to the gift of God for all God’s children. In the vulnerability of an interdependent community, in the insistence upon relationship, in the breaking down of barriers. Jesus shows us a new way to learn about one another, learn the truth of one another, and learn that we need one another. True worship takes place not at a sacred mountain or even a shared ancestral well, but in a relationship with the person of Christ, who is the wellspring and mountaintop of hope and peace.
On another day, also about noon, Jesus will face death and again confess his thirst. On that day, only vinegar will be offered—in mockery. The gift of his living water will not be apparent to the one holding that sour sponge. But today, when Jesus and the Samaritan woman meet, they conspire to bring life out of death. The water they offer each other, water that quenches the thirst of body and soul, holds the gift of life for all.