The Watering Whole
John 4:5-42
Exodus 17:1-17
She kept her eyes on the ground as she pushed open the heavy door, looking up only to search for an empty seat, one that she hoped would be far away from the boisterous crowd that was gathered in the center of the room. It was after 5:00 and it appeared to be the same old crowd who gathered almost every day. They all seemed to know each other’s name and seemed glad to see each other. The music seemed louder than usual, yet she could have sworn she heard the singer singing directly to her:
You’re out of luck….and the reason that you had to care.
The traffic is stuck…and you’re not moving anywhere.
Thankfully it was a big room and she preferred to sit over on the far side, losing herself inside the darkness and protection of the tall booth. She wondered why she even bothered coming here after work. Her employer Nick, who himself liked to work until all hours of the night, was known to lose track of time, and would often keep his employees until they missed dinner with their family. But she had no one to go home to and this watering hole was supposed to be THE place for people to meet, talk politics or sports, exchange jokes and gossip with one another.
She slide into her seat and returned her gaze and her thoughts back towards herself - this time focusing on her worn and rough hands. She examined them, noticing the scratches, the broken fingernails and the bruises. She stared at the frayed, dirty band-aid that was wrapped tightly around her empty left ring finger. The waitress brought her a Bud Light in a tall and frosty glass - which she just stared at for quite a while - as the singer overhead, sang her song once again:
You’re on the road…but you’ve got no destination.
You’re in the mud….in the maze of her imagination.
Tonight she was weary, lonely and definitely thirsty. She felt particularly parched this evening – a thirst that seemed to come from a bottomless black hole that was lodged somewhere inside of her. She reached for the glass - when a voice from above her asked:
“May I join you?”
She glanced up to see a man whose eyes met hers, eyes which were as clear and as green as the ocean on a crisp spring day.
“Well …. I’m not sure” and she began to mumble and stumble with her words and with her thoughts, knowing that these conversations never seemed to work out very well for her.
“I suppose so,” she sighed, as he slide into the seat across from her.
“You’re Shannon aren’t you?”
“How do you know my name?”
“We’ve met before.”
“I don’t remember you.” She began to wonder (again) if this was a pick up line, but his eyes seemed somehow to be trustworthy. But then again - she always hoped that she would find someone to trust and her usual M.O. was to make one bad decision after another. “Where have we met before?” she asked.
“We met at the Meal Site over at the Episcopal church a few months ago. I offered you some bread to …….”
“Oh,” she interrupted. “You were there? At the church meal site? I get it now.”
(pause)
“You are in here tonight doing your religious thing, and you must have scanned the room trying to decide who was saved and who was not. I’m nothing more than a target to people like you – never a person. I seem to always be the object of gossip – which I guess makes me ripe for picking by religious folks. Is that what you want?”
“No, no not at all,” he responded gently. “I don’t see you as a target or a statistic. I’m not trying to add a few more notches on any kind of soul patrol. I’m not trying to get you to come to church and I’m not going to ask you for a donation or anything – I promise. I just thought you looked lonely and needed someone to talk to. I have found that at times people feel very empty – like they are parched and dry inside – as if there was a deep black hole somewhere within them. Usually they need someone to simply listen to them.”
And then she felt as if he was reading her mind. “How would you know that I felt just like that tonight? And she looked into his eyes, trying to hold her gaze with him just a little bit longer. This time he seemed to see right into her soul, as if he knew everything about her all at once. Her disappointments and her dashed dreams, her exhaustion and her loneliness, yet she saw no judgment in those eyes.
And so she talked and he listened. She talked for quite awhile and told him about how her mother died when she was young and how she had to talk care of her younger brothers and had to cook for her father. They were always poor and always made fun of. On the way home from school one day, she was beaten up and laughed at by a group of girls, and her father just ignored her when she came home blooded and bruised. She had always wanted to be a nurse and she thought if she could just find the right man, the right husband, she would be able to go to school and build her dreams. But she never could find the right man and somehow those dreams never seemed to materialize. Her father now had Parkinson’s disease and she wouldn’t help take care of him, so her brothers wouldn’t talk to her. She felt so very alone and out of place, as she made her way through life.
And he just kept listening and never gave a hint that he was passing any kind of judgment.
Finally he spoke and said with a voice filled with tender compassion, “you have had a hard time Shannon, filled with many challenges and more than your share of trials. God loves you Shannon, with a love that can give you strength, and carry you forward in life.”
And maybe because he had listened to her for so long and so completely, that this time, when she heard that God loved her, she believed him with her whole heart. And she could have sworn she heard the words of the singer overhead still singing to her:
“Teach me…. for I know I’m not a hopeless case.”
And a nugget of hope stirred from somewhere inside of her and she asked:
“Who are you? You said you were working at the meal site?”
“No, I was sitting across from you, eating myself and I offered you some bread. For I was hungry and they gave me something to eat.”
“Are you Jesus?” she whispered, because somehow she knew it was him.
“I am he” he answered. “And I was a stranger tonight and you visited with me.”
“No I think it was you who visited with me. I knew there was something different about you,” she replied. And with that understanding she was completely filled, and she wanted to stay with him, but she also wanted to go and tell others that he was here. She started to scoot herself out of the booth. “I must go and tell others to come and see. To come and meet the one who knows everything – I mean everything about us - and still loves us completely. Boy - people sure have made religion complicated. ”
“Yes, people have made religion very complicated, but the love of God is not. God’s love is clear, trustworthy and true. God’s love is the living water that you and this world thirst for.”
“Will you be here when I get back?” she asked.
“Yes. I will always be where there are people in need. Where people are lost and lonely, hungry and parched, sick and stuck. That is where you will find me.”
Then, leaving her still untouched drink on the table, she flung open the door, to go and tell the others that she had met the Savior of the world. As she looked up she could have sworn she heard the singer, still singing her song:
It’s a beautiful day…don’t let it get away…
It’s a beautiful day. [1]
Amen.
©2008 Rev. Deborah J. Blanchard
[1] Lyrics of the song are It’s a Beautiful Day, by U2, released September 2000, by Polygram International.
I am also thankful this week for the images used by Scott Hoezee, at The Center for the Excellence in Preaching, in his exegetical work on John 4:5-42. http://cep.calvinseminary.edu/thisWeek/index.php
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