Hydrate: New Wells

John 4:5-15
Rev. Terry Minchow-Proffitt

Friends, every day we hope and pray. Every day we love and pray. We hope and love because every day we faith and pray. Faith, hope, and love anchor us. They help us keep it real and keep us real. They are our very breath.

This is all because of Jesus in our lives. Jesus does more than save us, or maybe that’s all Jesus does, properly understood. Jesus lives in our hearts and in our world. Jesus leads us. Jesus loves us. Sometimes Jesus hounds us when we act like silly or desperate fools. Always we can trust that somewhere decisive in the thick mix of our lives, there is Jesus.

And Jesus is with us throughout this pandemic. This virus does not change the truth of Christ’s Presence. This pandemic is a parched land through which we’d rather not travel. If we can resist the temptation to turn angry and afraid, to blame and accuse others for this virus, we will see our way more clearly. The only virus that can truly harm us is the virus that infects our faith, hope, and love. Two of the sure symptoms that we have contracted this virus is arrogance and desperation.

Arrogance refuses to deal with the matter at hand, acting as if nothing has changed. Arrogance refuses to see the lay of the land in which we find ourselves. Just as Jesus “had to go through Samaria,” we must pass through this pandemic. The antidote to arrogance is humility. Like Jesus as he passed through Samaria, thirsty beyond words, we must humble ourselves and acknowledge our need. He asked and trusted a Samaritan woman for a drink of water, which was outrageous in his day and time. We must ask and trust our neighbors, government, and even the governments of other countries to help us through this mess. It is that widespread and dangerous. Jesus did not ask a known deplorable and inferior for help because of his lack of faith, but simply because he was human and, therefore, limited and thirsty. Being human is not defeat; being human is the one victory we have. He asked her too because he was loving and clear-headed enough to see beyond what his culture and church had to say about Samaritan women as deplorable and inferior. It was far simpler for Jesus. She was his neighbor. He needed her. The thing about neighbors, for Jesus, is that you love them. He humbled himself before her. He was not arrogant.

But neither was Jesus desperate. He did not demand water. He did not rush to the nearest Schnucks and buy up all the water. He remained calm, found a well, and asked for help. I hope we will do the same. We will need to improvise, adjust our public outings, practice social distancing. But we’ll do these things both for our own human need and the needs of our neighbors. We’ll do them for only as long as it takes. We don’t want to infect; we don’t want to be infected. Nor do we want to crush our healthcare system. If we do these things calmly, and with love, we will find new wells from which to meet our deepest thirst for God. Jesus is our peace. Jesus will lead us to new wells.

St. Martin will do its best to reach out and stay in contact in new ways. Our church has not been cancelled or closed. Prayer has not been cancelled. Daily worship and praise have not been cancelled. Silence and solitude have not been cancelled. Reaching out to your neighbors and loved ones via letters, emails, texts, phone calls, and Facebook has not been cancelled. The need for you to contribute to your church has not been cancelled. We are challenged, but not desperate. God will guide us toward new wells through this parched land.

One of the lessons I’m learning these days is sheer gratitude. Being “a part” is so much better than being “apart.” Now that I’m being asked to “social distance,” I realize how much I love getting together. I’m a kind of affectionate introvert. I crave stillness and solitude, but I kiss and hug strangers more than the average bear. Being a part of Hazel’s funeral yesterday was both wonderful and sad. I don’t know how long it will be before we can host something like that again. I just don’t know. And I am reawakened to how grateful I am for all these gatherings that I have sometimes taken for granted. Being grateful makes me less desperate.

Jesus knew the value of staying hydrated, even in “enemy territory.” We’ve never had to pass through such a parched land together. This is truly a boot camp of the soul. But we are not in denial and we are not in panic. We will remain humble and calm. And we will continue to draw and offer living water from new wells that God will provide. We may even make new neighbors. This is all possible because Jesus is with us, calling us by our true names, offering our parched hearts eight eight-ounce glasses of faith, hope, and love, each and every day. We only need to drink it down deep till we rise up. Amen.