Pr. Michelle Sevig
Third Sunday in Lent
March 15, 2020
Love Not Canceled
Well, it’s been quite a week hasn’t it? People have used words like exhausting, frustrating, overwhelming to describe what they’re feeling this week due to the rapidly spreading Coronavirus and information that seems to change every day; one email after another about what to do, who’s most at risk, where it’s okay to gather or not. Communities across the United States are shutting down. Schools are closing. Grocery stores are emptied. Businesses are struggling. Hourly and GIG workers’ paychecks are slashed. All of us are being asked to practice social distancing for the good of the whole, to stay home…even from church. Something I never imagined saying as a pastor—Don’t come to church.
A Facebook post was shared that reminded me that in times like this when it feels like everything we know and love is being canceled or taken away from us, we are called to remember that
Conversations will not be canceled
Relationships will not be canceled
Songs, reading, self-care will not be canceled.
Love and hope will not be canceled.
May we lean into the good stuff that remains
May we lean now into God.
Lean into the good stuff that remains...and wash your hands. If we’ve learned nothing else these past few weeks, we’ve certainly leaned into proper hand hygiene. I’ve never washed my hands so much (and I work part-time in a hospital.) My hands are dry and cracked, my nails are brittle and breaking from the alcohol-based hand sanitizer and so much soap. My hands are thirsty for moisture that will seep deep into my pores.
Have you ever been that thirsty? Parched. Longing for water that was nowhere to be found? I have. Last Sunday as my family walked along the lakefront on that beautiful spring day. I was so thirsty I couldn’t even swallow normally due to lack of saliva. All I could think about was getting a sip of water to quench my thirst. Water fountains were everywhere, but none of them are turned on yet. As I walked along, I imagined these water fountains, modern day wells in some ways, springing up with a flowing bell curve of water.
Today’s gospel story about a woman at a well is more than story about thirsting for water. She was thirsty, I think, for love and connection. She’s alone at the well, which is odd because water wells were social places, not just someplace to get water. It’s the place where announcements of impending births happened, where marriages were arranged, where people fell in love.
Yet she is alone, at noon in the worst heat of the day when no one else is expected to be there. She practices a different kind of social distancing than what’s expected of us now to help keep each other safe. Hers is a self-imposed social distancing because she’d learned she was the disease, that something was wrong with her, that she needed to stay away from others. She comes to the well by herself, so she can get her work done in peace and head home.
But Jesus meets her at the well and quenches her thirst for love and connection. Jesus engages with her. He speaks to her. He listens to her and sees her as more than her labels. She leans into the very presence of God and her life is transformed.
I imagine that many of us can identify with the woman at the well, thirsting for love and connection, while at the same time pushing people away and keeping our distance.
Pastor Tim Brown wrote in his sermon for today, “I cannot tell you how many people I know who have taken down their social media profiles after a divorce, because they just didn’t want to be that public anymore. I cannot tell you how many people have, after something embarrassing, stopped calling their friends, changed their social patterns, or even moved because they don’t want the questions, or the strange looks, or that feeling of shame to come over them anymore. Shame causes social distancing. Depression causes social distancing. Relapse causes social distancing. Divorce causes social distancing.”
Coming out, terminal illness, abusive relationships…the list goes on.
We all have our own reasons to show up alone, at the well, in the heat of the day. Jesus meets us at right where we’re at. There’s no hiding or social distancing from the Holy One. There’s no stigma that keeps God away. There’s nothing we can do, past present or future that can keep us from God. Lean in, like the Samaritan woman who delights in the presence of the one who knows everything about her and loves her anyway. Lean in, to compassion. Lean in, to mercy. Lean in, to acceptance and connection and beauty and transformation.
The Samaritan woman leaves the well transformed—inspired to share the good news that there is more to God than worshipping in the right spot (or in our case today, the familiar church building.) She shares the good news that God might just be bigger than they thought, big enough to hold Jews and Samaritans, Gentiles and Romans, Lutherans and Nones, Baptists, Catholics, Muslim and Buddhist, Black and white, native and immigrant, even Democrat, Republican or somewhere in between. She proclaims to anyone who will listen, “Come meet someone who has told me everything I have ever done.” Because the only thing that defines her now is the love of God she’s seen in Jesus.
Following her lead, even in a time of community social distancing, we can show God’s expansive love for others. How will you proclaim the love of God you’ve seen in Jesus? Church gatherings may be canceled for a bit, but we can still be part of the restorative work of connecting with and loving one another so that no one need be isolated during this time of confusion, frustration and uncertainty.
God’s love for humanity is not canceled. God is not distant, but as close to you as your own breath; wiping away your tears, calming your fears, embracing you with a love that is stronger than death.
Let’s all together, virtually through Facebookland, take a deep breath…
Breathe in…Breathe out.
The Holy One is here, offering you the water of life.
God’s love is like a deep well, that never ever runs dry.