The Woman at the Well

Third Sunday of Lent
March 12, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Ex 17:3-7 / Ps 95 / Rom 5:1-2, 5-8 / Jn 4:5-42
by Rev. Mr. Barry Welch, Guest Homilist

For a few moments I’d like for you to put yourself in the place of the woman at the well in today’s story.  Imagine you’re her and you’re there.  It’s dusty and it’s hot, even in the shade.  The dust and the wind are hot, and they’re sticking to you because you’re sweaty.  You’re a long walk from the village. You’re alone.  The jars are heavy even when empty.

I am the woman at the well, and I swim in dirty waters.  I exist and I swim in the waters of this world, this culture. It can be a cesspool really. The world doesn’t love me; it doesn’t care about me. Society, the culture, they wish for my power as their own. I’m worth what I produce for it. My dignity is ambiguous, my morality is ambiguous, dependent on what others might see in me or gain from me, so I behave the same. This culture that corrupts me by bombarding me with its messages: consume, it’s your truth, love whomever you’d like, if it feels good do it, the baby is not a person, the old man is a burden. This culture that has shaped me is the same that will condemn me, shun me, ignore me, separate me whenever it seems helpful to it. Governments, business, academics, art, media, these can’t save me. I am the woman at the well, and I swim in dirty waters.

I am the woman at the well, and I am a cast away, rejected, shunned, alone with my sin and my pain. There’s a reason I’m at the well far outside of town, alone with the sun at its peak and the heat. I am a cast away. That’s because no one will be there, no one carries heavy containers of water in the heat of the day; they go in the early morning or the late evening when it’s cool. But me, I go when no one will be there, no one to deride me, no one to judge me, no one to make me feel worse about myself than I already do. No one can help me, no one cares, no one loves me. Do I even deserve love anyway? I just need to exist. I just need to get by. I am the woman at the well and I am a cast away.

I am the woman at the well and I doubt Him. Why talk to me? Why care about me? I am a woman, I am from Samaria, I’m a pagan. You don’t know me; You can’t know me. Everything about me is the antithesis of what someone like You would value. I float in sin. I doubt You can help me. You don’t even have a vessel, a container for the water, and my darkness is deep, too deep for You to reach. How could You sustain me for even a few moments, let alone eternally? No, this doesn’t make sense, this must be some trick. You must want something from me or wish to gain something by this encounter. I am the woman at the well and I doubt Him.

I am the woman at the well and I accept Him. Wait, He does know me. He really, truly, knows me. He knows my heart, hardened and despairing as it is. I’ve never met Him, and yet He softly identifies everything about my darkness. He dips deeply into my well of shame and loathing and somehow accepts it, accepts me. He accepts who I am. His grace is bigger than my past, much bigger. He’s met me in the dark and barren places of my heart where I am and offered me His love without requiring anything. And yet, I feel I want to return to Him somehow. I want to acknowledge this immense gift. I welcome His gift. It’s what I’ve unknowingly been seeking. He has risen me to pure living water. I’m unsinkable. I live. I am the woman at the well and I accept Him.

I am the woman at the well and I know Him. I’m not even going to haul the water back or the containers. I’m lighter than air now. I’m restored. My burdens lifted. My guilt and shame washed away. I’m floating. But what about the others? They don’t know, they can’t know. They swim in dirty waters. They are castaways. They doubt love. If they knew Him, they might be light. I must share. I must let them know, because even me, and all my darkness and brokenness and doubt, even me He loves and wants to save. You’ve got to meet Him. There’s nothing greater, nothing more important, nothing more beautiful. He is the living water, salvation, the Christ. I am the woman at the well and I want you to know Him.

The Sacrificial Lamb

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
January 15, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Is 49:3, 5-6 / Ps 40 / 1 Cor 1:1-3 / Jn 1:29-34
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today our gospel reading relates the beginning of the public life of Jesus.  Christmas is over.  The child is grown up.  He has become a man and is baptized in the waters by John the Baptist.  This is a sign of His oneness with all of humanity.  He is indeed the Messiah; true God and true man.

Today we hear John the Baptist testifying that Jesus is indeed the Son of God and Son of Man.  Jesus is walking by and John says, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.”  He doesn’t say, “Behold the Messiah.”  He doesn’t say, “Behold the Son of God.” Instead, he says, “Behold the Lamb of God.”

Lambs are very important to a shepherd people.  Of course, we think of the lamb most of all when Jesus says that He is the shepherd, and the lambs hear His voice and follow Him.

This, however, is not what John the Baptist has in mind.  What John has in mind is something much deeper, something much more important.  He’s telling his followers that this is the sacrificial lamb offered at the time when the people were under the slavery of Egypt.  The lamb was offered that terrible night, with its blood placed upon the doorpost of all the children of Israel.  The lamb became the sacrifice by which all of them were freed.  This is the lamb who is the sacrificial lamb.  This is the Messiah who does not come with great armies.  This is the Messiah who comes to us as a sacrificial lamb, and as John says, who offers His entire life so that sins may be forgiven.

The word, sin, is very much used, but does not exist in any other language except Hebrew.  This word is a gift of the Jewish people, who recognize something very important in its use.  We think of sin as something that offends the ten commandments.  It’s not that.  We think of sin as something terrible that other people fall into.

Very seldom do we ourselves sin, because we think it is a series of activities against laws.  It’s true that if you break a law, you break a commandment.  If you break a commandment, that commandment is the law of God and therefore you have sinned.  But that is not what sin means.

Sin is a very interesting word.  It really means that you have failed to love.  God has given you His love, and you have turned your back on Him.  God has given you Jesus, and He becomes a lamb led to the slaughter to show you the depth of God’s love and to help you understand that when we say, “I have sinned,” we have not broken a commandment.  Rather, we have broken a promise.  We have broken a person.  We have nailed Him to the cross.

Sin is a failure to care, a failure to love.  It is not meaningful to simply say, I broke the sixth commandment, or the tenth commandment, etc.  When you sin, you break a heart, not only the heart of Jesus, but the heart of the person that you have sinned against.  This is why it is such an important word.

When Jesus enters the waters, He becomes one with us, walking with us through life, feeling the things we feel and hoping the things we hope.  He is every bit a human being.  When He does this, He’s coming so that He might take away all sin.  For if sin is a sin against the love of God, Jesus redeems us by His great love, not only for God, His father, but also for all of us.  It is in the love of Jesus that we are forgiven, for He never held it against us.  He never went away and hid, waiting for an apology.

Sometimes we think a confessional is where our sins are forgiven.  Forgiveness, however, begins in the heart of Jesus and there is no sin that Jesus Himself does not immediately forgive, because His love is so great.  When you go to confession, you come in contact, not with the judgement of God and being forgiven.  Instead, you should come to understand that when Jesus offered Himself on the cross for all mankind, the greatest love that a God-made man could offer His father, that all was forgiven to all for all.

This is the message that the gospel teaches us, and this is the message that we often forget.  Remember, that when we sin against each other, it is not merely the breaking of a rule, regulation, or law.  It is the breaking of another person’s heart.  We must realize that Jesus came only to love.  That’s why He said, “I have not come to judge, but only to teach you how to love.”

Jesus tells us today that He is the Lamb of God.  This means, of course, that He is the shepherd, and we are the lambs.  Through Him, we are to become the lambs of God, to become the sons and daughters of God, or as it says in the readings, the children of God.  The one thing that God calls us to do each day is to love.  Jesus teaches us each day that there is only love and that, if we sin, we take ourselves out of the one thing that is necessary for our heart, soul, and lives:  the fullness of God’s love flowing through us into each other.

This is why Jesus came and why today we say with great gratitude, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.”  He takes away everything that stands between us and the love of a loving Father, who has given us Jesus to show the way and, as mentioned in the gospel today, fills us with His Holy Spirit.

Prepare Him Room

Second Sunday of Advent
December 4, 2022 — Year A
Readings: Is 11:1-10 / Ps 72 / Rom 15:4-9 / Mt 3:1-12
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

When big events are approaching, people start to worry about a lot of things and how to prepare for them, not the least of which is what they will wear.  Many of us are already engrossed in the preparation for Christmas; a good number have sent out their Christmas cards; and Christmas shopping is already in full swing.  Malls are filled with Christmas stuff.  Others are engrossed in deciding what gifts to give, while children are busy deciding what they want to get from their parents or from Santa. 

Many of us are excited as we look forward to the big day.  The trouble, it seems, is that our modern society has commercialized Christmas, so that we have mistaken the icing for the cake.  Somebody once made this strange proposal:  Christmas should be abolished because it only makes the poor suffer more.  The season only dramatizes the sharp contrast between those who can go on shopping sprees and those who have virtually nothing.  We should not, however, be too strict about brushing aside the external trappings – the decorations, gifts, food and drinks – if we brush them out, the spirit surrounding Christmas would be lost. 

But let us remain aware that there is always the danger of losing the right perspective.  Hence, we need to constantly remind ourselves to keep Christ in Christmas. 

Another truth is that Christmas is a religious event.  We are celebrating the birth of our Savior who came down centuries ago.  Think about it:  The child whose birth we are all celebrating and rejoicing in came as the least of men.  Poor and simple.  He would never be able to afford our glittery and incredibly extravagant celebrations.  In this case, we overlook, in the flurry of preparations, the internal preparations in our heart.  Let us be ready to share some of our blessings this Christmas that would cheer somehow, or somehow alleviate the harsh condition of our less fortunate brothers and sisters. 

That is why in today’s gospel it instructs us to prepare in the true spirit — that is, inwardly – by which John the Baptist beautifully announces, “Reform your lives; for the Kingdom of God is at hand.”  The Christmas carol Joy to the World puts it beautifully: “Let every heart prepare Him room.”

This is a big event, the coming of God’s Kingdom.  Indeed, it is a big event in world history.  But John does not worry about his outfit, or what he will eat, or even his popularity with the leaders of the Jews.  John does not worry at all.  He simply gets ready for the coming of the Lord, and, as God’s messenger, he wants the rest of the people to get ready, too.  He wants them to prepare for the very Son of God who will enter human history, not dressed in silken clothes nor sleeping in an air-conditioned or heated room, nor sleeping on a mattress, but dressed in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. 

Advent is a time for preparation.  It is also a season of conversion and repentance, a time to live out the message that John proclaims: “Reform your lives, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.”

The kingdom does not appear out of the blue.  It will not come automatically. God will bring about the realization of this via people.  This will come only when certain conditions are met:  where people are converted to a new style of life; where they are willing to commit to banish injustice, either personal or societal; and ready to stand for one another.  In this, the kingdom is at hand.  But whether it will materialize depends on each one of us.  Our Church reminds us that repentance and conversion will not only happen during Advent.  It should be forever, but the question is: “In what way?”

It is by begging pardon for our sins, because sin is like a poison in the body, which it slowly kills.  Penance is the way to detoxify our souls.  Many of us collect sins and, before we know it, our souls are cluttered, like attics filled with junk.  To prepare for God’s coming, we need to do some housecleaning.  We must make room for Him by getting rid of sin.  Sacramental confession is a great help.  We are not only looking for Christ, but we are looking for His coming at the end of time.  We are so very thankful for His continual presence in us.  But He can only enter a heart that is contrite and pure: a changed heart.

As Mother Teresa of Calcutta said, “Change your hearts.  Unless we change our hearts, we are not converted.”  The Greek word metanoia means “change of heart.”  Metanoia is a biblical term for repentance or “complete change of heart.”  It turns one away from sin, to serve the living God.  In the Old Testament, the prophets called for a conversion that would turn the people away from idolatry, and from a merely superficial practice of religion to live in fidelity to God’s law and their social responsibilities. 

In the gospel of today, John the Baptist, and then later Jesus, preach a radical change of heart, as demanded by the coming of God’s kingdom.  That is why the baptism of St. John the Baptist is a baptism for repentance.  During apostolic times, in the name of Jesus, the apostles invited people to be converted and baptized, and so begin a new life in the spirit.    So today let us reform and repent.  Let us turn away from sin and say we are sorry.  And we must do it now, for tomorrow may be too late.  Now is the acceptable time because the kingdom of God is at hand.