mini-easter

I won't be in town this weekend, but I think I'm gonna have to find a church Sunday morning because the possibilities for preaching in the lessons for Lent 5a are too good. It is like a mini-easter as we get ready for Holy Week. Wow, good, good stuff.

Ezekiel's Bones and Lazarus rising from the dead; great stories of resurrection; great promises that ensure hope. What jumps out at me this morning, as it does every time I read of the raising of Lazarus is Martha's response to Jesus' promise, "your brother will rise again." She says, so matter of factly in my head, "I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day." That is faith. Just four days after his death and just seconds after recognizing that if Jesus were there it wouldn't have happened, Martha, despite it all, is assured of the resurrection of the dead at the last day. She has faith; she has that hope that our Roman's lesson a few weeks ago talked about, "hope will not disappoint."

It is such a great lesson as we come close to the climax of Lent. We are just about finished with self-reflection, if we haven't given up already, and in need of some hope and some joy. All*luia want to spring forth from our lips, but not yet. Instead, we are given a glimpse of the hope that Good Friday and Easter brings - God has not given up on us. We will be restored to right relationship with him in this life and in the life to come. As we grow weary of somberness and penitence we can take solace in this mini-easter; resurrection is here, now.

Sermon for Lent 4a

A couple of weeks ago Father Keith really challenged me in one of his sermons. He said, quite frankly, that God was always running away from us. Now I knew he might be heading that way in that particular sermon, but I wasn’t ready for just how hard that statement would hit me. God is constantly running away from us. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

Fortunately, the same God who is always on ahead is also right here waiting, ready to help those of us who need some time to rest – some time to think, and God was gracious enough to give me this fabulous set of lessons this Sunday. They begin with a line that defines for me the way in which all the rest must be read, “The Lord said to Samuel, ‘How long will you grieve over Saul?’” There are plenty of places in the Bible when humans cry out to God asking, “how long…?” This week, however, it struck me that the roles were reversed; it wasn’t a human asking God, but it was God asking his prophet – his own mouthpiece – “how long…?” Though it goes unsaid in the rest of our lessons for this week, God could easily begin each lesson with a variation of the same question.

To Samuel – “How long will you grieve over Saul?”

To the Psalmist – “How long will you worry about the things of this life?”

To the Church in Ephesus – “How long will you sit in darkness? How long until you will rise from the dead?”

And Jesus could easily ask his disciples, “How long will you worry about whose sin it was?” Or to the Pharisees he could ask, “How long will you sit in judgment without seeing your own sin?”

How long indeed! And how many times has God had to stop and wait for me, only to ask, “how long?” “How long will the image of me running out ahead of you bother you?” The possible endings to the how long question are without number.

The story of the man born blind has many opportunities to ask “how long?” As we often associate ourselves with the blind man it is easy to ask disparaging questions of the disciples and the Pharisees, but what if we aren’t him. What if we fill another role within the story, say that of a member of the crowd? Then more questions become available – the story opens up in front of us.

Jesus and his disciples are walking and happen upon a beggar who has been blind since the day he was born. We know this man. He has been a nuisance in the street for years – always asking for spare change – we pass him by - he’ll probably just buy booze or meth with it anyway. But Jesus’ disciples don’t just pass by; they want to learn from this man’s plight. “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” “Both,” we might mutter under our breath, “the whole lot of them are a pain in the neck.” Jesus answers very differently, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.” Or, if we were going to fit our question for today, Jesus’ response asks the question, “How long will you seek blame for the bad things in this world? How long will you judge a man who has done no wrong? How long will you miss the message of God’s Kingdom that I have preached?”

To our amazement, Jesus approaches the man and without another word – without warning - he spits on the ground, mixes up some mud and places it on the man’s eyes telling him, “Go wash in the Pool of Siloam.” And then, just as quickly as he appeared on the scene Jesus is gone. The man returns having never seen the man who healed him. But much to our chagrin the man returns with his sight restored. Our understanding of life has just been altered. God had judged that man already; that is why he was born blind. Things were not supposed to get better for him and his wretched family; rather he was getting what they all deserved. This just isn’t right! So we pepper the man with questions, none of which suit our understandings. Still we are at a loss, things aren’t right. To the Pharisees; they’ll know what to do with him!

Just as we suspected, the Pharisees know how to handle this situation. Not only did this healing turn upside down our long held understanding of how the world works, but to be healed on the Sabbath – or rather to heal on the Sabbath – is a direct violation of one of the ten most sacred laws of Moses. Yah Pharisees! Go for the kill!

Plan A – Get them both on the sin factor – for as we know being born blind is the result of sin AND healing on the Sabbath is a sin. But then how did the healing happen; a sinner can’t do such miracles!?

Plan B – It wasn’t a healing at all – this is an elaborate scam to get that radical preacher Jesus more followers. So they call the man’s parents, but uh oh, he is that man. He was blind from birth. We have stepped over him for years hoping he would just go away and die.

Back to Plan A – go for sin again. But as if the man’s spiritual eyes have been opened in this moment he responds to the obvious attempt to discredit the event with great conviction, “Now that is remarkable! You don't know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners. He listens to the godly man who does his will. Nobody has ever heard of opening the eyes of a man born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”

On to Plan C – GET OUT! The Pharisees have stumbled upon the same problem we, the crowd did, this thing happened and it doesn’t fit in our system.

And suddenly Jesus, as if he has run ahead to be right here - right now reappears in front of the man. Having only heard a few words from him, we forgive the man for not recognizing his voice. Having never seen Jesus, we understand that he might feel like he’s back under attack in the streets as Jesus asks him, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” Just as quickly as the man was healed, and just as fast as Jesus turned our understanding of the world upsidedown – Jesus once again asks “how long?” “How long will you who claim to see hold onto your blindness?”

We have been eager to get life back to normal. For us, that means that the blind are punished by God. It means that the God only works through the approved channels. It means that we’ve got it all together – that our understanding is the one true faith. But even the defenders of our faith, the Pharisees can’t set things back in line. They are left only to admit the miracle, but expel the man anyway. Things will never be the same.

When God enters our life it is always a surprise. Often, without any warning, without even asking for help, we are sent to Siloam to wash the mud from our eyes. Then God goes on ahead and many are left to ask, “How can this be so?” God ponders a different question, “How long will you wait for things to get back to normal? Don’t you understand that once I’m a part of your life things will never be the same?” Where do we fit in that story? Are we the man born blind – dumbstruck by our new circumstance? Are we the crowd – uncomfortable with what these new things mean for us? Are we the disciples – on that journey yet still blind? Whoever we are, it is clear, God wants our eyes to be open so that we can see him on ahead because he is growing tired of asking, “How long?”

readgins for Lent 5a

here.

who has the flashlight?

I noticed this morning that - at least in John 9 - Jesus puts a qualifier on his claim to be the "light of the world." "As long as I am in the world," Jesus says, "I am the light of the world."

It got me to thinking about who or what is the light of the world now? I mean I guess the obvious answer is the Church catholic - but as one on the inside of that particular group it seems cheap of me to claim that we have the light. So where else might light come from? Who has the flashlight this evening?

It might be to some a clever restatement of the Church catholic (universal) to say the following, but I dare say it is not. I think the flashlight is being carried by every person who, to the best of there abilities and to the glory of God, are trying to live a life of faithfulness to God. That means every person who takes seriously love of God and love of neighbor. I must be quick to add, though it'll sound Pharisaical, that not every member of the Church catholic, or everyone who professes to be Christian, fits into this category of flashlight carrier; light of the world.

It is not for me to judge who lives up to it and who does not, but suffice it to say there are plenty who do not, but the vast majority do. This morning, as the sun rises above the education building and begins to shine in my office window light is on my mind. This morning, having just read the long invitation to Confession in Morning Prayer Rite I, I wonder how often I live up to carrying the flashlight? It is not for me to judge who gets a flashlight - just to make sure I'm doing all I can to deserve mine.

how freakin' long!

I think the opening words of the Lord in the Samuel reading define how I hear the remainder of the lessons for this Sunday. "The Lord said to Samuel, 'How long will you grieve over Saul?'"

Father Keith preached a few weeks ago about our God who is constantly running away from us. Not in the sense that God wants nothing to do with us, but that God does not stand still; God is always moving toward the in-breaking of his kingdom. As soon as we are comfortable, God is ahead of us beckoning that we follow.

I think the words of God to Samuel are the words of God-out-ahead. And they could be repeated over and over again in the lessons. Psalm 23 could begin, "how long will you worry about your physical condition?" The Ephesians reading, "how long will you sit in darkness?" And the Gospel lesson could have it at least twice, to his disciples and to the Pharisees, "how long will you seek direct blame for the bad things in life?" Or "how long will you hold onto to your old way of understanding?"

Much has been made in the media - traditional and otherwise - of the Pew Foundation study that showed that the journey of faithful people is much more fluid than it once was. The Senior Pastor over at The Church for Starving Artists has two insightful posts on what the results of this study might mean for us - here and here. I commend them to you. Anyway, what I'm hearing today is one of those rare times when every lesson ties together (though this week they make no sense with the Collect) - God is out there wondering, "how long?!?" Are we able to hear Him? Are we willing to change our preconceived notions? How long will we remain blind?

redfining sabbath

When I think of how the Sabbath was honored and kept holy in first century Palestine I think of things like spitting, mixing up mud, and washing being in the "allowable actions" category. Things like holding court proceedings, well those I think of as being "not allowable actions." So it surprises me in the story of the man blind from birth (mbfb) that the Pharisees go through the elaborate actions of calling witnesses and deliberating whether Jesus has broken the Sabbath on the Sabbath.

I read the story of the mbfb as a large indictment against the Pharisees' narrow interpretation of the Law; our way or the highway. Even in Jesus' answer to his disciples, "We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no one can work" I read as a redefinition of Sabbath; it is not a day of the week but rather a way of living. Though it is most certainly Saturday morning when Jesus mixes up the mud and heals the mbfb it is not the Sabbath as the sun has not yet set on his calling from God. Rest is not an option for Jesus as this time; the sun is still high in the Friday afternoon sky for Jesus. It is not until he dines with his disciples on Passover that the Sabbath will come for Jesus.

Yet for the Pharisees, by their strict definition, the Sabbath is from sundown Friday until sundown Saturday. So their pseudo-trial on what I can only assume to be Saturday afternoon is curious. They seem to be breaking their own law in order to condemn a man for breaking said law. It makes not sense; which seems to be the point. God is beyond Law; even over and above the 10 Commandments when necessity arises. The immediacy of this man's condition and the teaching opportunity made available by healing the mbfb is too perfect for the God-man to worry about what day of the week it is. Instead, Jesus heals the mbfb physically AND spiritually.

Jesus redefine Sabbath here. He calls into question human interpretation of God's Law/God's Will and says, God will make it clear to you what is right and good; do those things, live in the light, and rejoice. And still, the Pharisees remain blind.

Readings for Lent 4A, RCL

As usual, are here.

seeking him out

We didn't have our Lutheran friends at Lectionary group this morning, and they were sorely missed. We didn't get to hear from their perspective how great a text this week's Gospel lesson is for grace. Twice in a chapter Jesus seeks out the man blind from birth. The man doesn't call for Jesus like some do. The man doesn't come to him at night like Nicodemus did. Rather, Jesus sees that he is the topic of conversation and uses him to bring God glory.

What I find interesting, but am unsure what I'll do with it, is that Jesus seeks him out a second time. I'm not sure of it, but I don't think that happens any other time. Seems like it'll preach that a) being healed/discipled by Jesus won't be easy and b) he won't disappear on us - he will continue to seek us out; even when we are removed from the synagogue (whatever that may be for us).

Anyway, it's late, and dinner is ready, so I'm off. More tomorrow.

Sermon for Lent 3A

We often think of this story as that of a typical un-churched or de-churched person. Quite frankly, the story of the woman at the well is more the story of a church going, God loving person; she was living her faith to the best of her abilities; the only way she knew how. She isn’t really a seeker. She didn’t come to Jesus asking for Spiritual guidance, Jesus came to her asking for a drink of water. It is easy to assume, thanks to John’s use of detail, that this woman is in some way a very sinful person - heck she’s living with a man after five failed marriages – but judging from her theological understanding it seems to me that she is, in fact, a victim of her circumstances. Her husbands have either died or divorced her; she, it seems, has had little, if anything to do with it – except maybe having been educated in theology; that would certainly be grounds for divorce in first century Palestine.

So we’ll assume, for sake of argument, that this woman is a devout Samaritan, worshipping God to the best of her ability the only way she knows how. She arrives at the well at noon because she is tired of the abuse she gets from the other women who seem to have it all together. They haven’t been married five times, and they feel they can look down their noses at this woman. So she quits the game. She chooses to remove herself from their mockery. She heads to the well at noon. Today, however, her plan has backfired. Instead of avoiding a mess, she finds at the well a man, and not just any man, but what appears to be a Jewish man. “This can’t end well,” she must think to herself, “but I’ll keep my head down, get my water, and get home.” Her newly revised plan fails when Jesus, thirsty from a hot morning on the road, asks her to draw him a drink from the well. Avoidance is now impossible – she must engage this man, this Jewish man.

So our devout Samaritan woman begins a conversation with this man. Most certainly she is hesitant at first, “Jews didn’t share things in common with Samaritans, things like water cups and conversation”[1] But as the conversation goes on it becomes clear that this isn’t any normal conversation – she has met someone special. By the end of their time together she is starting to think the unimaginable, she has met the Messiah! She leaves her water jar behind, rushes back to town, and pounds down the doors of the people she has tried so hard to avoid. “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Christ?” She still isn’t sure, her question in Greek shows the expectation of a negative answer. “This can’t be the Christ, can it?” Still, something has changed within her, her eyes have been opened and she must share the news. And it all started with a question.

Jesus asked her a question that has no deep meaning behind it, “Will you give me a drink?” How often in life do relationships begin with a simple question? It happens all the time. One thing Cassie and I have noted since we moved down here is the “classic Alabama over share.” You know it. You go into the Winn-Dixie to grab a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread. You finally arrive at the front of the cashier line and say, “how are you?” to the woman smiling behind the check stand. In my experience growing up in Pennsylvania and living in Virginia the expected answer is, “I’m good” or “I’m fine” or “OK”. But here, it is so very different. “I’m exhausted, it has been a long day. My two year-old was up at three with a fever and rash. Then I had to be up at 6 to get the other two ready for school. I had a doctor’s appointment, then I got here at noon and I work ‘til eight.” I now know more about this woman who is ringing up my groceries than half the people I graduated from high school with. There is something healthy about the “Alabama over share.” I am forced to actually engage the people with whom I occupy this space. I can’t go around ignoring the world around me, and in these encounters I am changed. Slowly I have come to understand that the woman behind the cash register isn’t just slow, but she is, in fact, exhausted – I’ve learned to cut her some slack – even pray for her as I wait. And it all started with a question

Jesus lived a life of questions. He asked questions. He welcomed questions. He rarely answered someone without asking another question. It is a life few of us understand these days; questions have gone out of style. Instead, with our 24 hour news cycle we live in a world of answers. From Kindergarten on up we are taught to receive answers rather than to ask questions. Our teachers impart knowledge upon us. Our preachers stand up and tell us how to interpret texts and how to live our lives. Our televisions are full of “experts” who have all the answers from who will win the Super Bowl to how to end the war in Iraq. Nobody is asking questions because everybody has all the answers. But Jesus, Jesus asked questions.

It seems clear from this story that a primary spiritual practice is question asking. Our devout Samaritan woman asks questions, “How can you ask me for a drink?” “Where can you get this living water?” “Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his flocks and herds?” “Could this be the Christ?” She isn’t afraid to have her opinions challenged. She asks questions not really expecting to be changed by the answers. Her life experience is not about having the answers but about asking the questions. Her reward is a life changed forever – our devout Samaritan is now a believer of the Christ and an evangelist for the way.

Each of us has the opportunity to be changed in a similar way. In asking real questions we are forced to look at our underlying assumptions. We end a sedentary life of answer downloading and begin a quest for knowledge by asking questions. It is dangerous and scary to leave our comfortable life of answers behind. The possibility of change is not always a happy one, but in our Gospel lesson today it is clear that sitting still in our easy answers is not an option. The answers we found early on in our faith journey are not the be all and end all – God has much more to teach.

Some years ago, writer Eugene Peterson found an analogy for this battle between couch potato faith and the spiritual quest in, of all things, a Winnie the Pooh story. In one of the many tales from the Hundred-Acre Woods, Christopher Robin and company decide to set out one day in search of the North Pole. At one point along the way, young Roo falls into a stream and needs to be rescued. Pooh Bear eventually uses a long pole to fish his friend out of the water. Once this emergency had passed, the animals stand around and discuss what had just happened.

As they are talking, Christopher Robin notices that Pooh is standing there with the rescue pole still in his paw. "Pooh, where did you get that pole?" "I just found it earlier," Pooh replies. "I thought it might be useful." "Pooh," Christopher Robin says excitedly, "the expedition is over! You have found the North Pole!" "Oh," says Pooh, "I did?" Eventually Christopher Robin sinks the pole into the ground and hangs a flag on it with this message: "The North Pole, Discovered by Pooh. Pooh Found It." Then they all go home again, satisfied that this quest was successful. This story, Peterson suggests, bears some resemblance to the way many people in recent years have gone about their various spiritual quests.

People are in search of something quite grand but, like Christopher Robin and company, they seem quite willing to label the first thing they find as being "it." They are hungry and thirsty for something more, so they go to Barnes & Noble, stumble on some book and they think they've arrived at their destination. They see that someone has slapped a label of spiritual authority onto this work--you can, after all, always find someone with a "Rev." in front of his name or a "Ph.D." after her name, to write glowing blurbs for such books. And suddenly, like Christopher Robin's flag, people think this label authenticates this version of “THE ANSWER”

One estimate claims that there are nearly 10,000 different books currently in print that dole out spiritual advice. Many of these have been best-sellers over the years, which means that some of the same people are buying different books all the time. This is great news. The spiritual pole they confidently labeled as "the North Pole" six months ago must not have turned out to be the end-destination after all. So they go out in search of another, asking new and different questions hoping for fresher different answers.[2] The quest for the North Pole goes on.

Our devout Samaritan woman, despite her best efforts to avoid being changed, stumbles upon a man to whom questions are quite comfortable. In the end, her life was forever changed. Where is your quest taking you? What questions are you feeling compelled to ask? Are you willing to be changed by the answers? And then, instead of sitting comfortably in the answers, will you step out again by asking new and different questions?

Our devout Samaritan woman set out for the well at noon expecting a day like any other. She was comfortable despite her circumstances, she made do. But in a question; in a chance meeting her life changed. Where will you meet Jesus? What questions will he ask? What questions do you have for him? How will your life be changed? Be on the lookout, Jesus might be thirsty today at your well.

---

[1] http://www.ucc.org/worship/samuel/february-24-third-sunday-in.html

[2] The article at http://cep.calvinseminary.edu/thisWeek/index.php saw this as a negative, but I have taken their story and spun it the other direction. Sermons are so much fun!

Stages

That strange wording in the story of the thirsty Israelites that they were traveling in stages is on my mind today. I am currently sitting on a hard wooden pew in the second of three business sessions for the diocese of the central gulf coast. This is a stage that has no water, I repeat, no water!
Why did you call me here to this place called ordained ministry to kill me with church nerds!
This is not a nice thing for me to say, and I realize that, but to we all have the things which feed us and those that do not.
And while this stage is not a good one for me, for many gathered here it is a rare chance to see the larger church at work. It is a great opportunity to celebrate the ministry of this diocese and to gather and meet one another.
Anyway all that to say life is full of stages and to each one these stages mean different things. I'll look for water from some one else today.

Just the Harvester

I'm not sure where in the history of interpretation it happened, but at some point it became easy to claim that the Samaritan woman at the well was a very sinful woman. Having been married five times and now, gasp, living with a man who is not her husband we picture her with a tattoo across the small of her back, doing Jager-bombs, waiting for some handsome rich man to approach her at the bar. I have to ask the question, "where do you read that?" It seems to me that this woman is far from trailer trash and she isn't the whore history has made her out to be.

She is well versed in her faith. She is follower of the Samaritan version of the worship of YHWH and she knows her theology. She understands the dispute between her people and the Jews. She knows the history of her faith. She awaits a Messiah. Heck, she has a better understanding of her faith than many seminary graduates do of theirs.

I'm also not sure where in the history of interpretation it happened, but at some point it became easy to claim that Jesus was sower, grower, and reaper in this quick exchange at the well. Meeting the aforementioned sinful woman, he tells her of the coming Messiah, calls her to repentance, and accepts her heart as she accepts him as her personal Lord and Savior. I have to ask the question, "where do you read that?" It seems to me that Jesus has stumbled across a woman who has a long history of faith in YHWH, a woman whose heart God had been working in for a long, long time, a woman seeking to know God more/better.

Jesus, in this case, is just the harvester. He has found a woman ripe with the Spirit and proceeds to pluck the fruit from the vine and make glorious wine out of her faith. This is a fantastic story of one persons journey to faith through the work of the whole of the Trinity. She has known God the Father for years. God the Spirit is in her heart continuing the work and making her very thirsty indeed. And when God the Son shows up as a very human Jesus - all he does is point out how his living water might quench her thirst for good.

I know that across the world on Sunday sermons will be preached across various interpretations, utilizing thousands of hermeneutics, filled with exegesis and eisegesis. I'm ok with it because I know that week to week my sermons are just one opinion among many. I just wonder if we might try to hold ourselves to a higher standard. Let's not take the easy way out. Let's do some work, let's open a few books, and preach to the best of our abilities to the glory of God.

hope

I think that the words of the Israelites to Moses could constitute my worst nightmare in ministry. As a self-described "emerging Christian" I have dealt myself a life of bringing people to new places - in worship, in theology, in Christian practice, in life - and I know that some of those new places will prove themselves lifeless - without food, water, sustenance. And so to hear the Israelites ask cry out to Moses, "Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?" well it makes me itchy. Someday, somebody will ask me a similar question, "Why did you bring us out of our BCP worship to kill us and our children with whatever this crap is?"

This line of thought is not helped by the generations of worry steeped within me. I come from a long line of "what-if?" people. "Why then am I a priest, and an "emerging" one at that?" you may ask. Because I'm an idiot... but that's another issue.

While I know that I could worry myself into secular employment I also have Romans 5.1-11 to keep me comfortable. Especially that line "we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces 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."

Hope does not disappoint us! Thanks be to God! We all take risks in life in the name of hope. I hope to one day move our church and our world past petty left v. right arguments and into the Kingdom of God. I know that I will never get there. But nonetheless, my hope will not disappoint me because I am certain that even a half step in that direction will be for the good. So worry or not, I keep on that path; assured by the Spirit that hope will not disappoint.

As the stages of life continue on; there will be failure, suffering, the need for endurance, and tests of character, but in the end there will be hope. I am thankful for that today.

Plugging Tony Jones

While I do not agree with everything Tony says, I appreciate his candor and the spirit with which he argues. So I pass along to you two recommendations.

1 - Read The New Christians: Dispatches from the Emergent Frontier - I have yet to pick it up, but have read chapter one and it is grand. Please pick up a copy.

2 - Read his two-part (for now) post on Jim Wallis' God's Politics blog. It is an insightful look at why "left v. right" is being rejected by a new generation of Christians. Part 1 is here; Part 2 there

I had the pleasure of working with Tony at a National Cathedral Event last May where he laid out his 10 Dispatches and I really enjoyed them. If you are at all interested in the two taboo subjects of yesterday's post; politics and religion; you must read Tony Jones' latest stuff.

When did questions stop being OK?

We spent a lot of time this morning in our Lectionary Group thinking about the way in which Jesus approaches the Woman at the Well and in turn the way in which the Woman approaches her neighbors. They both come with questions (I think the NRSV is wrong in making Jesus' request for water a command). We then began to ponder when questions stopped being OK in the church. Moses had questions. The Prophets had questions. The Disciples had questions. The Churches to which the Epistles were written had questions. "Orthodoxy" is formed out of questions; the nature of Jesus, the Trinity, the Scriptures, the Virgin Birth, etc... it all comes from questions.

So when exactly did questions stop being OK? Did politics and religion start being taboo subjects on the same day? Did we lose the ability to ask questions and disagree in community by some evolutionary hick-up? Because it seems clear in the story that we are to approach one another with questions. There are no experts in faith; we are all stumbling along. Just as Jesus does not assume himself better than the woman; so too as she rushes back to town, she does not assume that she's got it right; her experience of the Messiah (could it be, no, well, no) is not the only experience; but it is all she knows. She approaches her neighbors with a sense of vulnerability; "this couldn't be the Messiah, could it?" She doesn't have all the answers, and neither do we.

But how much damage is done by those of us who claim to know it all; to have the corner on God's love? So much it pains me. So much that I have done in my ignorance. When did questions stop being OK? Let's take it back. Let's make questions OK again. Let's approach life with questions, not answers. It'll make us vulnerable, but it'll be oh so worth it.

Readings for Lent 3, RCL, A

Here.