Eagle Harbor Congregational Church

March 13, 2011

Scripture: Psalm 32 & John 4:1-42

Tamara Roberts, guest preacher

Who is this woman at the well and why in the world is Jesus talking to her?

I mean, it never should have happened—our text says, “he had to go through Samaria” (4:4) and it is the most direct route, but good Jews took the long way round, avoiding Samaria and any possible contact with Samaritans. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Jesus wasn’t a good Jew, it’s just that sometimes he had very unusual ideas about what it meant to be a good Jew. 

So by conventional standards this never should have happened-- a man and a woman in public; a Jew and a Samaritan; a transient and a citizen—these two should have avoided each other at all costs, at the very least ignoring each other, pretending not to see each other.

But Jesus is not one to avoid, not one to ignore, not one to pretend.  And if he had to go through Samaria, perhaps it was for just this moment, just this encounter.

There are so many places to go with this story—so many sermons that might be preached, but for today I want to look at this story through the lens of the phrase of our Statement of Faith You promise to all who trust you…forgiveness of sins and fullness of grace. 

Now this is one hefty theological phrase.  It seems to me that almost every word of this phrase is begging to be unpacked.  Not just the words like sin and forgiveness, but also words like trust, promise, all, grace, fullness and You. 

Before we go any further, it is important to remember that the Greek word that is translated as “sin” is a word that means “to miss the mark”   It is the same word that is used when an archer lets his arrow fly and it misses the bulls-eye.  That really illuminates the phase “we are all sinners” doesn’t it?  Because of course, even as we aim for the center of the target, we aim to do good, to be good, sometimes our arrows fly a little high or low, a little left or right.  Sometimes our arrows miss the target entirely.  That is to say, we all make mistakes, sometimes we are not our best selves, sometimes we go awry. 

It is also important to remember that the word translated “forgiveness” is a word that means to let go, to release.  By extension, a lack of forgiveness—to hold on to grudges is a kind of enslavement; to forgive—to let go of old slights, mistakes and misdeeds is a kind of freedom.

Now sin and forgiveness are very complicated.  And each deserves its own sermon, if not its own sermon series.  But for now, let’s move forward with these understandings in place—to sin is to miss the mark, to fall short of the bulls-eye and to forgive to let go, to release past wrongs and in doing so, to release ourselves.

The other words from the phrase are friendlier words, but they too require some unpacking—at the very least, they prompt some interesting questions:

Let’s take the words in order:

YOU: How is it that we talk to God this way?  Our modern English does not fully illuminate how familiar—how intimate—we are being when we address the Holy as “you.”  Once upon a time, we had two words for you, just as French has.  In French, there is the formal, I-don’t-know-you-very-well form vous and the intimate, familiar tu .  In English, the intimate address was “thou” and the formal address was “you.”  And so it is in our traditional Biblical language that we address God as Thou and speak of Thy kingdom come.  Early English translations of the Bible used thou and not you as the singular second-person pronoun, with the unfortunate effect of imbuing it with an air of religious solemnity that is antithetical to its true sense of intimacy.  This is all to say, the very language of our tradition invites us to be familiar—even intimate—with God.

Promise:  what kind of God makes promises to humans?  It’s kind of crazy, isn’t it?  But there it is, throughout the scriptures—God makes a rainbow and promises never to give up on humankind again.  God makes a covenant—a special kind of promise—with the people of God, saying “I will be your God and you will be my people.”   God promises manna in the desert, God promises a land of milk and honey.  God promises to lead us home, God promises to wipe away every tear.   God promises forgiveness of sin and God promises fullness of grace.

To All:  God’s promises—God’s forgiveness, God’s Grace are not for some, but for all.  Let us take a moment to remember and affirm this.  Everyone, everyone, everyone belongs to God.

Trust:  Okay, I have a confession to make.  After Dee told me the phrase I was to preach on, I carried it around in my heart—only I remembered it wrong.  The phrase I lived with for weeks was You promise to all forgiveness of sins and fullness of grace.  The phrase is supposed to read: You promise to all who trust you…forgiveness of sins and fullness of grace.  I unintentionally omitted the words “who trust in you.”  At least, I think it was unintentional.  Because the truth is, I am not sure about these words.  Are God’s promises (or God’s forgiveness, or God’s grace, for that matter) only for those who trust in God?  Frankly that is not my experience.  Most of us human beings have a hard time with trust.  We have a hard time trusting ourselves, our instincts and each other.   And we have a hard time trusting God.

 It is part of the work of a life of faith—to trust God, to live into that trust—but it is not easy and it does not come naturally to most of us.  God knows this about us.  God knows.  So why in the world would God make promises only for those who trust?  I think perhaps it is the other way around—that is, living into God’s promises, making our lives in God—these things help us learn to trust, to become more trusting.  But God promises are for all—no matter who we are or where we are on our journey. 

And last but not least--

Fullness of grace: not a little bit of grace, not half way grace, but fullness of grace—my cup overflows kind of grace, springs and pools in a wide dessert kind of grace, never-ending, unstoppable over-the-top kind of grace.  Our God is a gracious God, a graceful and grace-filled God, and we, the people of God, are called to live in that grace—the fullness of Grace—too. 

Our God promises us forgiveness of sin and fullness of grace.  Our God invites us to trust, to let go, to start over when things go wrong.  Our God has enough grace to share, to fill the heavens and the seas, and yes, even our lives.

This is the God revealed to us in the story of the woman at the well:  a God who is God for all—not just for Jews, not just for men, not just for those who are righteous and pure of heart.  Revealed to us in this story is a God who sees us, knows our story, enters into relationship with us. 

The woman at the well is cut off from her community.  For reasons not fully explained in our text, she is drawing water alone, in the full heat of the midday sun.  Why did she not join the other women of the village to draw water in the cool of the morning and evening?  Perhaps it has something to do with the five husbands, or the man with whom she lives now, to whom she is not married.  We do not know.  But Jesus knows, and he does not shun her or ignore her.

Jesus knows, yet he speaks to her, engages her in conversation—and not in small talk—but in conversation that goes to the heart of the matter—he speaks with her about her life with all its ups and downs, about who and what and where God is, and about what it might mean to live not by rules and regulations but in a wide open way of spirit and truth. 

Our text tells us Jesus knew everything the woman had done, yet he does not seem to judge her.  He does not tell her to turn her life around, to repent of what she has done.  He does not try to convert her.   Yet somehow, in this encounter with Jesus, she is changed, she is forgiven, she is set free.

Holy One, You promise to all forgiveness of sins and fullness of grace.

The woman at the well is released from her past, from all the wrong turns and missed opportunities and frankly bad choices she may have made along the way.  She has been shunned, cut off, alone—but no more.  In this release, there is freedom, and there is new life.  She came to the well a woman burdened by the sum of her life; after the encounter with Jesus she leaves her water jug and her old shame-filled life behind.  She becomes the first apostle—She becomes the first apostle, and runs back to her village, to be seen and heard. 

Come and see, she says, inviting all to see what she has seen.  Could this be the messiah? She asks.  Could this be what God among is like?

For she is a woman living into that fullness of Grace that God has promised to all—to each and every one of us. 

Holy One, You promise to all forgiveness of sins and fullness of grace.

This offer was not a one-time offer for one particular Samaritan at one particular well.

This is an all-time offer to all

To everyone

in every place,

in every time.

Our God is a God of relationship,

and that relationship is not a relationship of holding grudges and keeping score,

That relationship is not a relationship haunted by mistakes and misdeeds

That relationship is not a relationship in bondage to indelible sins

NO

God offers us—no God promises us a relationship

Of freedom and

New life

God promises us a relationship lived out in the fullness of grace

not a little bit of grace,

not half way grace,

but fullness of grace—

my cup overflows kind of grace,

springs and pools in a wide dessert kind of grace,

never-ending, unstoppable over-the-top kind of grace

In short brothers and sisters, God promises us a life lived out in the fullness of Grace, which is to say a life lived out in Love.

Holy One, you have promised to all forgiveness of sins and fullness of grace.  May we have the eyes to see, the ears to hear, and the courage to trust! 

Amen.