Homily For the Third Sunday in Lent March 15, 2020

In the Name of God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In the first letter of John, John writes to his beloved ‘little children,’ “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”

We are currently in the midst of a pandemic, and it is hard not to be a little afraid. Everywhere we turn, we are bombarded with the news – the coronavirus is here to stay for a little while. We hear of how fast the contagion is spreading; the percentage of people it is hospitalizing; the mortality rate...

We hear about potential closings – schools closing down, non-essential retail shutting down, parks, you name it, and there is a mad rush to the supermarkets. People are anxious – worried there won’t be enough food, toilet paper, soap, disinfectant. It truly feels like the wilderness, doesn’t it? Nothing is guaranteed; we’re uncertain of what will come in the days and weeks ahead.

Our ancient ancestors felt the same kind of paralyzing anxiety in the Wilderness of Sin. It was hot, the journey was long. The food and water were scarce. Nothing was guaranteed; The Israelites were uncertain of what would come in the days and weeks ahead—so they panicked. And in a place of fear, they said to Moses,

““Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?”

Driven by fear, they dreamt of a well or a spring that gushed forth water to quench their temporary thirst.

And to the well we (along with the ancient Israelites and the Samaritan woman) go to seek whatever it is that we believe will pull us through in this time of anxiety and uncertainty. And who do we meet there but Jesus?

Isn’t that the good news of the Gospel? Of the incarnation? There is no crisis in life where Jesus isn’t already present ready to offer what we truly need. He looks at us with that look that pierces our soul. He asks us for a drink. A woman who was thirsty. A nation who had been journeying in the hot and unforgiving wilderness. A people in the midst of a pandemic! He says, “give me something to drink.”

And we respond, “What do I, a Samaritan woman, have to offer you, a Jew, to drink!?” “What do we, those who once had food and drink in Egypt, have to offer you to drink!? “What do we who can’t find a 24 pack of water or a gallon of milk in the grocery have to offer you to drink!?”

How preposterous of Jesus to ask us who are in fear for a drink? It is like sleeping on a boat in the midst of a storm. It is like remaining silent before the governor who could very well order his crucifixion. Preposterous!

And Jesus responds to us, “Good. You realize you do not have anything to offer me. And isn’t that the point!? You don’t have anything to offer me, and yet here I am ready to offer you that which truly satisfies – that which casts out all fear.”

It is when we get this incredibly important truth that we finally find what our soul has always been looking for...and that truth is: we have nothing to offer God. God has everything to offer to us.

Paul says it best in Romans 5 in one of the most poignant verses of all of Holy Scripture, “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person-- though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.”

While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.

There is no greater epiphany of self-awareness than to come to terms with the fact that we are all sinners in this wilderness longing for that which truly satisfies, knowing that we have nothing to offer to God but our confession that we are thirsty and have no means of satisfying our thirst. Or in the words of today’s collect: “We have no power in ourselves to help ourselves...”

It is when we are all too aware of our own brokenness, of our own thirst, that we meet Jesus at the well where we seek whatever it is that we believe might relieve our anxiety...maybe it is a drink; a pill; more comfort food...

Jesus knows we are broken. He knows we are thirsty; and he knows we have no power to help ourselves.

So Jesus says to the woman at the well...Jesus says to us: “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”

Brothers and sisters, right now, as much as ever, I pray that we come to know the gift of God – whether it be for the first time or a holy reminder of what we once knew.

Because the one who meets us at this well where we seek whatever it is we think we need happens to be God’s gift to the world – the gift of the one thing we need – the very life of God through Jesus Christ. We come to the well thirsty for comfort in the wilderness— in the pandemic— and we meet the one who has no beginning; the one who has known nothing but perfect love since before the foundation of the world; the one who is eternally begotten of the Father living eternally in eternal donation and receptivity in the perfect love that God is.

He invites us to ask him for living water. The water that that will cause us to never be thirsty. The water that caused the woman to leave her water pail behind. The water that Jesus gives that becomes in us a spring of water gushing up the same eternal life the Son of God has always known. This is the love that casts out all fear. This is the love that begets trust in the wilderness, in Samaria, and in the pandemic. It is the love that fills every void and in the midst of suffering produces endurance which produces character which leads to hope; “and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”

In the midst of fear; in the midst of uncertainty; in the midst of sickness and death, may we drink deeply of the living water that is God’s love. May he free us from fear and free us for the love that chose to die for us while we were yet sinners that we might join in his fear releasing and life-giving mission of trusting the Father most especially in the most arduous of circumstances.

In the name of God: the Fahter, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.