Mirrors of Truth

 

Are you able to look into truthful mirrors?

Exodus 17:1-7

Romans 5:1-11 

John 4:5-42 

Psalm 95

 The Rev. Seth Olson © 2023

Holy God, source of living water, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same.

“Magic mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?” in Disney’s telling of the fairy tale Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the Evil Queen ponders this very question. Unfortunately for the queen, the mirror’s truthful response—that Snow White stands as the fairest in the land—precipitates a dastardly plot to unfold. In this infamous encounter, the Wicked Queen happens upon the harsh reality of honest feedback.

Walter Wangerin, the author elaborated upon this very thing, “In mirrors I see myself. But in mirrors made of glass and silver I never see the whole of myself. I see the me I want to see, and I ignore the rest. [However] mirrors that hide nothing hurt me. They reveal an ugliness I’d rather deny.” Then, Wangerin provides a warning label for those who cannot handle the truth, “Avoid these mirrors of veracity!”[1] Perhaps you have no trouble seeing the mirrors that hold nothing back.

I often find these reflections to be double-edged—both brutal and beneficial. A friend who cuts through the small talk to say how I have hurt him. A spouse who does not obscure how I have let her down. A child who innocently happens upon the very weakness I have tried to hide from the world. A neighbor who sees me in a moment of weakness. A stranger who shows me the painful truth when I was discounting his very humanity. To any of these reflectors of reality, I might want to run away, or even go the way of the Evil Queen—shattering the mirror altogether—or I may simply plead, “Can’t I just ignore the honest mirrors that cause me to see my flawed, authentic self?” Not if I am going to follow in the way that Jesus leads.

Last week and this week in our Gospel lessons, Jesus held up mirrors to would-be-disciples, revealing the life-altering challenges that accompany following in the Way of Christ. Seven days ago, our story revealed the night-time wanderings of Nicodemus. The trained religious leader, Nicodemus, sought answers from the upstart teacher, Jesus. As the Pharisee pressed for solutions to the dilemmas of life, he could only hear literal responses. In the dimly lit encounter, the teacher of Israel struggled to see the light Jesus reflected. At least in that moment all Nicodemus could say was, “How can these things be?” He had a hard time looking in the mirror.

Today, we heard about a woman who approached Jesus in broad daylight. She sought sustenance from an old well. At first, looking at her reflection in the stagnant water she too could only behold Jesus’ literal words. He had no bucket; how could he promise living waters? However, her thirst persisted, as she kept wondering what Jesus was reflecting.

In many ways, she was the opposite of Jesus’ last conversational partner. Nicodemus had a name—she was unnamed by John. Nicodemus was a leader and a teacher of the Israelites—she was an outsider of Jesus’ Faith Tradition being a despised Samaritan. Nicodemus was male, very helpful in a patriarchal society—she was not. Nicodemus held a high standing as a religious leader—she had no power, privilege, or education of which we know. Additionally, she had little status as a multiple-times-divorced woman, and this deserves even more consideration.

What’s happening with all these marriages? Scholars argue over the importance of the multiple nuptials. Was she literally married five times? Were the marriages a symbol of the regimes of the Samaritans—the five political powers who ruled this tribe? Was this an allusion to the five distinct groups who made up the Samaritan people? It’s unclear, but before you start retrospectively shaming this divorcee though, know that Jesus nor John did any such thing.

Still, we might think that she felt some shame from her five divorces. She did come to the well in the middle of the day instead of during the rush of early morning or late afternoon, which may have been a way to avoid others. However, she also could have been at the well at noon to fulfill an ancient pattern about betrothal and marriage. In the Book of Genesis, Jacob met his wife Rachel, where? At a well! When? At noon! Likewise, Abraham’s servant found Isaac’s wife Rebekah, where? At a well! When? At noon! So, what does this mean? Is this woman a soon-to-be blushing bride? Not exactly!

This moment did foreshadow a marriage though, and John’s original audience would have picked up on it. This marriage though was a cosmic union between God and all people (including the Samaritans) through the messianic power of Christ in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. The woman at the well was a forerunner, an apostle, and a first fruit of this universal union being revealed. If she felt any shame in coming to the well at noon, she left it there with her water jug. As Jesus reflected the truth that he was the Messiah, she did not hide away. She did not turn back, nor did it take days or weeks or months for the truth to dawn upon her like it did for Nicodemus. Instead, she saw the truth in Jesus, the ultimate mirror. Even if her every scar was revealed in the reflection, so too was the pathway to healing.

Bare and exposed she was not embarrassed, instead she was enlivened. She dug deeper into the conversation, and the living water began to gush and spring and flow from everywhere. No longer did she feel like she was someone defined by her past. Instead, she was being born of the spirit and of the truth, as she was baptized by the source of living water. Leaving everything behind, she ran to her people and spoke words that Jesus used when calling his first disciples, “Come and see! Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?”

Jesus had reflected her inmost truth back to her. Unashamed she had a new vision of who she was. It was clear enough to her people too as their interest was piqued by her invitation—maybe they wanted to know their true selves too! Even if the Samaritans and Israelites were at odds, the Samaritan people did hope for the Taheb, a messiah who would come and reveal the truth (the description of the Taheb came from a blog post by Jennifer Garcia Bashaw on the Working Preacher website). After a few days with Jesus, these Samaritans believed Jesus was the Taheb. Jesus had bluntly said to the woman that, “I am he,” meaning I am the Messiah. She, and later her people, understood this such that they spoke a truth not heard elsewhere in John’s Gospel account, “This is truly the Savior of the world.”

In last week’s story, Nicodemus had heard about the Savior of the world—that God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have everlasting life. And yet it wasn’t Nicodemus, but this unnamed evangelist who shared Good News about the Savior, so that part of the world would know this love. There at the well, this unnamed woman had realized what we prayed in today’s collect, “We have no power in ourselves to help ourselves.” She had no power to help herself, but acknowledging this truth changed her life. And, when we honestly behold this realization, everything changes for us too.

We like to tell ourselves things like: if I just get this project accomplished, then I will be okay. If I get the promotion, then everything will be alright. If I find the perfect partner, it’ll all be fine. If I get everything right, then people will love me. If I _____, then I will be fulfilled. We have no power in ourselves to help ourselves—three years after the start of the COVID-19 Pandemic I feel more strongly about that than ever—our collect is correct.

We can’t earn God’s grace. This is clearly reflected in how Jesus responded to the woman at the well. God loves us first. God doesn’t wait for us to get it right. Christ Jesus shines as the ultimate mirror—truly showing us who God made us to be. When he encountered the Samaritan woman, she could see who she truly was—not a woman with baggage, not a series of scandals, not just a descendent of Jacob, but a beloved child of the Divine filled with God’s spirit and truth and called to pique her people’s curiosity with God’s Good News. Christ makes our real selves known too!

Although we might have trouble looking into truthful mirrors, Christ reflects our deepest truth back to us in strangers, friends, family, beloveds, and in creation itself. In these reflections, we can see who we are. If we are brave enough to look, we will see our flawed, authentic selves. As difficult as it is to view these honest mirrors, do not look away. Seeing who we are can be difficult and painful, still this is how we live in Spirit and Truth drinking the living water.

Christ Jesus shows us who we are. It is not easy to see our true selves, for we crave to see only our good parts, as we think we have power to save ourselves. However, as he invited the Samaritan woman not just to see her past reflected in the living water, but also to drink anew and never thirst again, so he calls us to gulp deeply of new life. He knows our whole selves, even our flaws and foibles. And, before we recognize our faults, God knows them, loving us still and calling us into new life.

Truthful mirror at the well who is it who is beloved still? It’s you. You are God’s beloved one, and I pray we may reflect that truth to one another—not matter where you’re from, what you’ve done or not done, or who you are—you are God’s beloved. Reflect on that!

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[1] Wangerin, Walter. "In Mirrors." In Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter, 11. Maryknoll, NY: Plough Publishing, 2008.

 

Sermon Ideas: The Grateful Leper and Faith Making Us Whole

This week we get a reprieve—at least that’s what it feels like. In churches that use the Revised Common Lectionary, we’ve been on a slog of a journey since Sunday, June 29th when we heard that Jesus turned his face towards Jerusalem. Each week in our readings, Jesus has elevated the stakes such that we must choose between following Jesus and other good things such as family, work, and even our lives. This coming Sunday’s text (Luke 17:11-19) though, provides us a break from the explosive rhetoric of the last few months, or does it?

While the language Jesus employed in this pericope (fancy word for section of the Bible) appears less disruptive than recent ones on fiery division, hating our families, and being worthless, the underlying message remains nonetheless challenging to our way of life. The story of the ten lepers and the one grateful one gives us fodder not only for stewardship season (already underway in many parishes), but also living transformed lives of gratitude. Let us take a closer look at the story before exploring a few intriguing jumping off points for a preacher given the task of interpreting this Sunday’s Gospel lesson.

The text opens with Jesus furthering his journey toward Jerusalem; however, the setting differs from the last few stories, as we enter the region between Samaria and Galilee. Jesus traveled south through this area on his path to the Holy City. Samaritan and Jewish people shared a bitter relationship with differing world views, especially when it came to the location of a primary holy place—the Samaritans believed it was Mount Gerizim and the Jewish people believed it was the Temple in Jerusalem. While the reality for any Galilean traveling to Jerusalem meant that she or he would have to enter Samaritan territory, friendly interactions between the two peoples were seemingly not a given—despite how the Parable of the Good Samaritan clouds our thinking. Still Jesus interacted and even healed ten lepers, with at least one of them being Samaritan.

In this story, Jesus entered an unnamed Samaritan village, and ten lepers approached him. The unclean people kept their distance though, as they cried out to Jesus, calling him master and pleading that he have mercy upon them. Leaving aside, at least for this blog post, the underlying belief that God causes things like leprosy (hence the “Master have mercy upon us!”), what stands out as striking is that these lepers in Samaria would believe that a Jewish man could provide healing for them. A friend told me this would be like an evangelical Christian today asking an Islamic State extremist to heal him from an embarrassing rash. Maybe it’s not that dramatic, but nevertheless Jesus’ predicated his mission upon breaking down extreme barriers—that and healing.

In this text, Jesus performed a gradual healing by distance for these ten lepers. When Jesus saw them—an odd sounding phrase in the text—he did have mercy upon them, and told them to go show themselves to a priest. Why? Well, once they were seen without leprosy they would have been incorporated back as full members of society. They were wandering out of the bounds of normal society, as this roving gang of lepers precisely because they were unwelcome with everyone else. The story could have just as easily ended with the lepers walking off into the proverbial sunset. I wonder if it would have even been recorded if that were the case—there are plenty of glossed over healing stories throughout the Gospel accounts. Fortunately for us, this is not where the story ended.

One of the lepers did not walk into the horizon, but instead realized the source of his healing. Part of me cannot blame the nine lepers who wanted to get back to being a full member of society. They felt compelled to simply ask the priest to pronounce them clean, so they could get back to living life. Still this one leper upon discovering he was healed, turned back to thank Jesus. The leper cried with a loud voice praising God, prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet, and he thanked him. The simplicity and the magnitude of the man’s thankfulness appears striking. Also striking is Luke’s detail, “And he was a Samaritan,” as though the reader would expect this from a Jewish person, but not one of “those people.” How did Jesus respond?

As usual, Jesus did not respond in a straightforward manner. Instead, he questioned, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then, as if it were a tiny consolation, Jesus uttered the final words from this passage, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” This last interchange may leave us scratching our heads, so as we turn to how a preacher might approach this story, let us begin with this odd ending.

The final words from this passage were not actually, “your faith has made you well.” Rather, Jesus said, your faith has made you whole. Here Jesus provided one of the clearest connections we have in all of Holy Scripture between observing God’s power at work in the world, being thankful, and trusting God. This Samaritan leper, an outsider in multiple ways, saw how God’s healing was happening within him. Then, he turned around (fancy Church word: repented). As he did he gave thanks to God, the source of his (and all) healing. This trust in and gratitude for God was what made him whole according to Jesus. Particularly in stewardship season when we speak about the power of practicing gratitude this would be a great jumping off point for a sermon.

Another helpful focus point emerges from the way Jesus both incorporates and holds at a distance those who are unclean and of a different background. On a personal level, I would have loved to see Jesus rush toward the lepers playing down that one or more of them was a Samaritan and all of them were ritually unclean; however, that was not the case. If Christ is the universal healing presence that is meant to draw the entire world to him—at least in John’s Gospel account—then, why would he be held up by something as relatively minuscule as leprosy or a different background? Why? I cannot tell for sure, but what is worth exploring is the tension between Jesus the Jewish human and Christ the cosmic redeemer who are both fully present in Christ Jesus.

A final layer worth the preacher’s exploration is the continued metaphorical and literal meanings of journey here in the latter part of Luke. Jesus was on a journey with something to accomplish, and yet he took the time to stop. The ten lepers were on journey and yet one of them took the time to stop. Jesus did not have to pause to help the lepers and the one leper did not have to pause to say thank you. How often does our current way of living life leave us feeling completely hurried such that we do not take time to stop, be a part of something miraculous, experience God’s healing, say thank you, and praise God? A powerful sermon might focus on the gift of upended journeys.

These are just three ways to go about preaching this wonderful gift of a text. I pray God will speak through all those who are interpreting this passage for our congregations on Sunday. As my rector Glenda Curry often prays, “May God’s Word only be spoken, may God’s Word only be heard.” Amen.

Thank You Notes

My favorite Church Season is Advent primarily because I love preparing and anticipating the coming of Christ. I don’t know why this is because I am not a patient person. It probably has something to do with the building of energy that leads all the way up to Christmas Eve. Everyone gathered together with so much warmth, love, and all those presents still to be opened! If there was a holiday that I could not stand growing up it was the aftermath of Christmas partially because everything had already been opened, and also due to another nagging annoyance.

From the time I was old enough to write my mother urged me (read: made me) sit down with a list of all of the presents I had received and from whom I had received them. Then, she not so gently persuaded me (read: made me) write thank you notes to all the gift givers. I loathed this task to the point that I didn’t want as many presents, so that I did not have to write as many thank you notes.

For years and years I dragged my feet on this chore, which expanded from Christmas presents to any gift received from a friend, family member, or neighbor. I did not understand why I was supposed to sit down and write a thank you note. I had told them thanks already. Wasn’t that enough? Did the people receiving the messages of gratitude even notice them? The never said anything about the notes!

Recently a medical group published an essay entitled, “Boost Your Health with a Dose of Gratitude”  which found links between mille
nnia of philosophical/religious wisdom on gratitude and healthy living. In other words, grateful people live healthier, longer, and happier lives. Perhaps my mother knew this little secret and she was trying to teach me that being thankful leads to a better bill of health. Yet, more exists to this story and in our lives than heartlessly writing words down on a meaningless thank you card.

Jesus was heading to Jerusalem by way of Samaria, a place of ill repute according to his people. As he passed through the Samaritan land 10 lepers came to him. Leprosy as a disease of those days should not be understated in terms of its impact. Those who had it or were suspected of having it would have been sent away from their spouses, children, parents, and even the entire community in which they lived. For Jesus to happen upon 10 lepers would have meant that these lonely, exiled, deserted souls bound themselves together in a sort of “misery loves company” commune.

They beg Jesus to heal them. Immediately the request is granted by Jesus. The incarnate Christ asks them to head to the priest who would have been the person to verify that they had indeed been healed (remember this was before modern medicine, so the rabbi would have been the medical and spiritual consultant of the day). All of them scurry off overjoyed by the new life that lay ahead of them. They can return to their lives! Yet, one of them a Samaritan, a despised one, thinks to turn back toward Jesus. The one-time leper bows before the Christ and offers his most sincere appreciation.

Jesus wonders why the others did not return, but never revokes his gift of healing. Rather, he says something peculiar to the Samaritan. “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” In this moment the one who turns back to Jesus receives something beyond what the others obtained. This one no longer a leper accepts a further blessing, another healing, and a fuller life moving forward than those who asked and received what Jesus offered.

Faith, according to Jesus, intricately connects to giving thanks. To have faith is to give thanks to the one who gives us everything including our healing. If we never learn to have a grateful heart or we refuse to give thanks we may still be healed, but we will never truly find the depth of our faith in Christ. What my mother was attempting to do when I was a child was not enacting torturous task of politeness, but rather to teach me that giving thanks is a part of my life within a community with other children of God and when we begin with gratitude we find a depth to our faith not otherwise obtainable.

Today I wonder for what are you grateful? Who might you thank for it? And, how will you turn to God to thank God for your renewed life?

What Dwight Schrute Taught Me About God's Spirit

Rainn Wilson as Dwight Schrute

One of my favorite TV shows is The Office, which follows the happenings of a paper company in Scranton, Pennsylvania. While this is the premise of the program, the intrigue builds because of personality conflicts arising between ridiculous characters. Whether it is the complete ineptitude of the boss, the absurd love interests of several office employees, or the anger management issues of working in a dying industry, this show is not really about paper, but about the characters.

The most ridiculous of the ridiculous characters is a particularly quirky paper seller named Dwight Schrute, who runs a beet farm on the side. In one episode Dwight who often falls over himself trying to do good deeds actually acts heroically. He protects his long time office rival Jim Halpert from being beat up by another employee. Dwight springs into action unleashing pepper spray in the eyes of the would-be attacker. Jim proceeds to spend the rest of the episode trying to repay Dwight for his noble deed. Dwight though will not accept any payment for his action. For all his quirkiness Dwight believes that doing the right thing is done because it is the right thing, and not because he will receive a reward for it. Sometimes I can be like Jim in my relationship with God. Once I receive God’s graciousness, I attempt to pay God back by “being good,” “praying harder,” or giving more to charity.

In today’s lesson from the Acts of the Apostles, Peter and John went to Samaria once they heard that the people there received the word of God. The disciples journeyed to this land to pray for the Holy Spirit to come among the Samaritans to fully mark their baptism. During this mission a man named Simon observed the disciples’ work, and he offered them money in exchange for power. Simon essentially wanted to barter with God to receive the ability to pass on the Holy Spirit.

Peter responds quickly and firmly, “May your silver perish with you, because you thought you could obtain God's gift with money!” Peter tells Simon that he is missing the point. One cannot buy God’s gift with money. God’s love is not about an exchange of money, or praise, nor is it about power. God’s Spirit is a gift to us.

Peter and John did not go to Samaria so that they might make a few extra pieces of silver. We are not expected to do good things so that we will get paid for them, nor are we able to buy more spiritual gifts through some monetary system. We are freely given God’s gifts of the Spirit because our God is a God of Abundance not scarcity. We have no strings attached to God's gifts. We are not required to pay God back. We don’t have to give God a certain amount of praise. Instead, God invites us to turn our hearts over to God to allow for God’s Spirit to free us, to shape us into who God intends us to be, and to give us the gifts that God shares with us. God calls us to freely give to others, to do God's will because that is what we are called to do, and not to exchange money for spiritual gifts. For God is a God of overabundance!