A sermon preached on the third Sunday in Lent - mindful of +Sarah's letter about loving our neighbour and strengthening networks of support amidst the impact of the Coronavirus. The texts were: Exodus 17:1-7, Romans 5:1-11, John 4:5-42
Image JGI/Jamie Grill/Getty
The cover of Friday’s New Statesman, like many newspapers and magazines, focused on the effect of the coronavirus; it carried one headline: ‘how the world is closing down’. As guidelines and advice change daily, how do we as a Christian community seek to respond?
So much of our life together is bound up into habits of social proximity: our faith is rooted in the reality of the Word made flesh; of grace conveyed in what we touch and taste. Without losing the power of that, we are having to inhabit our life together within a framework of social distancing.
It’s that question that +Bishop Sarah addresses in her pastoral letter. She offers some practical advice for ongoing pastoral care, and we will be developing our own networks too. She ends: So with clean hands, and clear thoughts, let us love our neighbours with open hearts.
Today’s readings reflect on human concerns for living well in the midst of crisis, anxiety and exclusion. They speak of our vulnerability, yes; but also of our networks of interdependence. They express something of God’s faithfulness, and the way in which we can sustain fruitful modes of encounter which sustain our networks in the midst of isolation.
Water and love flow through our readings.
Love that reconciles.
Water that witnesses.
In Exodus we are told of collective fear and anxiety. It’s an all too human scenario. People are tired, thirsty, irritable and quick to pick a quarrel.
They’d been journeying by stages; perhaps there was a familiar routine of walking so many miles, pitching camp; some perhaps lighting fires, others seeking a water source.
On this occasion, patience was wearing thin; the people wanted water immediately and their complaints escalate.
Quarrelling over practicalities quickly became an expression of testing God’s faithfulness.
As a leader, Moses cries out to the Lord with brutal honesty.
He names the rising tensions which made him feel threatened; and in the face of his frustrations he takes responsibility - what am I to do with this people? And all this is couched in prayer.
Moses was a reluctant leader: perhaps that heightens his sense of dependance on God and on others in the fulfilment of the task entrusted to him.
The answer to Moses’ lament is full of assurance: he’s reminded of God’s faithfulness from the flight from Egypt onwards. God will be with him - and will act through him.
This time, he isn’t enabling escape through water, but the provision of water. And in all this he does not ‘go it alone’; he goes with the elders, with a company of wise and trusted people.
Water flows.
Water witnesses to God’s faithful love.
But the naming of place doesn’t gloss over the difficulties.
Massah and Meribah: Is the Lord among us or not?
That question takes us to the heart of human suffering, loneliness and fear.
And yet, being human, there are ways in which can continue to bring hope and compassion to others: it might mean reverting to old-school forms of communication; it might mean offering to collect groceries.
When we are confronted with the tangible effects of panic and anxiety, we can collude with that; or we can be practical and determined in building up trust and reaching out to others.
That begins by trusting not in God - and supporting people in prayer when they are not with us; but also means trusting each other and building on the depth and quality of our relationships.
When it seems as if our social fabric is fragile, we have an opportunity to strengthen it. For we are a people made one by sharing in broken bread; bread that gives life to the world.
We are to show love to the bored and fearful by reaching out to them in practical acts of kindness; we are to show love to the vulnerable by being mindful of our responsibilities - good hygiene is an example of water preserving life and health.
In keeping our distance, as appropriate, we are not distancing ourselves; the bond of friendship we have in Christ has capacity to be stretched, and the capacity to serve: sharing news and stories, dropping off shopping or posting letters.
In washing our hands for the sake of health and service, we can give love to those who’re worried; so that anxiety will not triumph or overwhelm us.
Water flows in love.
Love that witnesses.
Love is answer to the all that wreaks havoc in our lives. Water flows into action; resilience flows through networks of care. Anxiety is turned to compassion; fear to witness; darkness to light.
Water flows.
Water witnesses to love.
Today we draw near to an ancient well, in the glare of the midday sun, and there we hear of living water.
It is a moment of social distancing: a woman who is on the margins of social life.
Water offered, received and welling up.
John draws us into an encounter which is full of depth and intensity; vulnerability and disclosure.
The Samaritan woman is part of a minority group. She was seen as spiritually ‘other, politically powerless, and socially marginalised. Her identity was marked by fragmented relationships; by rejection, failure and fragile self-image. Alone, she goes to the well.
She needs water.
She longs for love.
Chester Cathedral
‘Give me a drink’, say Jesus. He thirsts. He thirsts for God’s people to come together. He reaches out across the multiple divisions named by the woman herself.
He asks for water.
He embodies love.
We hear a conversation unfold: a relationship is created which restores trust, goodness and esteem. Perhaps as Jesus holds her gaze, shame becomes dignity.
Water drawn with a bucket. Thirst is quenched in practical compassion.
This is not enough: out attention shifts towards a deeper well. The wellspring of living water. Water with the power to sustain us. It’s an expression of everlasting life. It cannot be contained. Through the power of the Spirit it wells up in us.
Jesus reveals that if we drink from the fountain of God’s love and compassion, we too become a source of love and compassion. He offers living water. He reveals himself as God with us: ‘I am he’ he says; I am the one is was and is and is to come. I am: the creator of all things, the Word made flesh, the life giving Spirit.
The moment is disrupted by the disciples blundering in with their own preoccupations and questions. The moment breaks into a fresh movement of witness. ‘Come and see’ says the woman.
Her empty water jar is left behind because she is already living out of the deep well of living water. Her heart is full. She is desperate to share with others what she has received.
Water flows.
Love is revealed.
Witness wells up.
And what of us?
Like the people of Israel, we live with our own narratives of anxiety: when solutions aren’t obvious; when it feels as if disaster has struck; when are plans are disrupted.
Yet like Moses, love must be expressed in personal prayer the wise leadership of a community. We are are called into creative and determined acts of trust and care which strengthen community.
Like the woman at the well, we experience hopes and concerns: when we feel excluded and ignored; when relationships are broken; when we get chance to explore the meaning of life and faith; when we discover our calling to love and witness.
Yet each of us, as witnesses, become agents of reconciliation speaking joyfully of the life and forgiveness we’ve received.
Water. Love. Witness.
Like Paul, we are to speak of grace and faith; peace and glory. He speaks of suffering, endurance, character and hope - not to justify any form of human cruelty, hatred or violence, but to remind us that these to no have the last word. Love is the last word. Love revealed in Jesus’ life, death and resurrection; love which restores us, restores broken and sinful humanity.
This sacred place is where we encounter Christ that our lives also be transformed by the holy and healing Spirit. May we who’ve received new life in waters of baptism, witness to God restoring all things in Christ. May God bless our labours at home, amongst colleagues, in our communities.
Water and love flow through our readings today.
Reconciling love.
Loving witness.
Let us pray:
Keep us, good Lord,
under the shadow of your mercy,
in this time of uncertainty and distress.
Sustain and support the anxious and fearful,
and lift up all who are brought low;
that we may rejoice in your comfort
knowing that nothing can separate us from your love
in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.
© Julie Gittoes
