Three Strikes and
Still not Out!
John 4:1-15
March 23, 2014
There’s an
old preacher’s story about the day Ted Williams the late great baseball player
and Sam Snead the best golfer of that era played a round of golf together. Before they teed up they got into a discussion
about which sport was harder. Sam
thought golf was more difficult. Ted
responded, “How can golf be harder? The
ball just sits there on a tee waiting to be hit. Everyone is quiet as a church, and only when
you are ready do you swing at it. In
baseball everyone is yelling and the pitcher is throwing a ninety mile an hour
fast ball at you and it moves all over the place. Baseball is much more difficult than golf.
With that,
Ted reared back and sliced his ball deep into the woods. Sam said, “In golf, you have to play your
foul balls.”
In our story today Jesus
encountered a woman handicapped by circumstances beyond her control. Worse than that she had gotten herself deep
in the woods. She was ready to just give
up when Jesus offered her another opportunity to take another swing at life, to
begin again. He does the same for us if
we let him. Before this game begins, let
us pray:
Lord, in a world filled with
distraction and diversion, talking about you often replaces the more intimate
moments when we actually talk to you. We
argue about the finer points of theology, but miss the big picture. Help us to worship you now in spirit and in
truth so that we may receive what you so eagerly long to give – living water
that wells up into eternal life. Open
our eyes that we may see, our ears that we may hear, and our hearts that we may
receive. Amen.
During the coming summer months, in
every state in the union, and in many other countries as well, boys and girls
from 6 to 60 will gather in fields and playgrounds and stadiums. Their purpose: to smash a small white ball
with a stick of wood, and then run around a pre-designated course, ending
eventually in the same spot where they began.
This is called fun. It is also
called baseball.
Baseball has been in the news a lot lately. Those who watch the news have seen sports
reporters in short sleeve shirts deliver their stories standing on emerald
green grass at a Florida field. It is a
sign of hope. Spring is coming.
I think it is no accident that so many Americans enjoy
playing and watching this game because it reflects the way many of us look at
life. Let me explain.
We come into this world and for the first few years’ life
is pretty easy. We are nestled in the
warmth and security of a home. Meals are
regular and all we need do is look cute and learn a few social customs that our
parents try very hard to teach.
Then one day a big yellow bus stops in front of our door
and hauls us off to the minor leagues to learn the needed skills and knowledge
to insure our latter success. Some of us
spend a dozen years in the minors, some fourteen; some sixteen, and some seem
to stick around in this league forever.
Finally, with great pomp and circumstance we are called
up from the minors and thrust into the major league. We are given a bat and told to go up to the
plate. Then, to add to the pressure you
are told that you only get so many chances so don’t mess up. This is usually cloaked in phrases like, “You
only go around once in life”, so don’t blow this interview or you’ll never get
a good job, or a promotion. You’ll never
get ahead in this world. You’ll be stuck
on the bench consigned watch while the rest of the world takes the field.
Some of us march up to the plate and on the first swing
crack a homerun. You’ve known people
like that. They are just naturally
successful at whatever they do. Where
you have to work and sweat to get the job done, they seem accomplish the same
task with ease.
Others make it to first or second or third. Others ground out. There are many and varied degrees of success.
Some, for all their concentration and effort and
sincerity just can’t hit the ball at all.
They try again and again and again, but to no avail. They strike out so plop down into an easy
chair and stare at the T.V. sure that there will be no more chances.
I think most of us have felt like that at one time or
another. We’ve had that Charlie Brown
feeling as he stares down at the plate muttering, “How could I strike out? I tried so hard!”
Sometimes, out of our disappointment make excuses, “If
only I were smarter, stronger, prettier, things would be different. If only I had more money, if only I were
taller, if only I weren’t so tall.”
There’s no real comfort in these, but they do allow us to return to the
bench and not feel quite so bad about our failures. They also keep us from getting back in the
game. We tell ourselves, “Why try? I’m not good enough.”
When Jesus encountered the Samaritan woman at the well,
she already had three strikes against her.
Two were chalked up against her the day she was born, and one was all
her own doing, so she had all but given up.
Strike one. She
was by birth a Samaritan. To understand
what that meant, you would have to be born black in Mississippi during the days
of Jim Crow. You would have had to
suffer the indignity of riding in the back of the bus and drinking from
separate water fountains. You would have to hear the name of your race spit out
as a curse. That’s what it meant to be a Samaritan.
Strike two. She
was born a she, a woman in a patriarchal society. At that time a woman had no vote and no say
in the temple or synagogue or politic.
At that time it was forbidden for a Rabbi to speak with a woman in
public and some even refused to speak to their wives, though I’m not so sure
theology was always the reason for that.
This is why the woman at the well was so surprised when
Jesus spoke to her at all. She was a
second-class citizen and knew it.
These first two strikes were called against her for
reasons of he birth and birth alone. She
started life two steps back.
The
third strike was all on her. Jesus said,
“Go call your husband.” She answered, “I
have no husband.” Jesus said, “That’s
right. You’ve had five husbands and the
man you are with now is not your husband.”[1]
That’s why she was at the well in the heat of the day. The rest of the women in
the village would have nothing to do with her.
They let her know in no uncertain terms that she was not welcome to join
them in their early morning water run.
So,
her reputation preceded her wherever she went. Gossip is the serpent’s whisper
that hisses behind your back. So, she was left on the bench when the rest of
the team took the field.
No
one chose her when teams were chosen because they had already judged her
incapable of fully participating in the game.
Three
strikes and you’re out, out of luck and out of chances. No discussion and no arguing with the umpire
will ever change the rules of the game.
Alone
and forgotten under a hot Palestinian sun, she lowered her jug into the well
and slowly pulled it up. When she
finally set it on the ledge, she looked up she saw Jesus looking at her and he
asked her for a drink. It was a little
thing, but the impact was immediate.
Here was Jesus, a man, a Jew, a Rabbi, and he asked her for a favor, put
her in a superior position. The woman
knew something was wrong with this picture.
“How
is it that you a Jew ask a drink of me, a woman from Samaria?”[2] We see a little bit later, Jesus’ disciples
were just as astonished.[3] This kind of thing was just not done. Cultural conventions are there for a
reason. They provide structure and order
so that you don’t have to think about things too much. You don’t have to get to
know people to understand them. Instead
you size them up quickly by race and gender, by wardrobe and speech and then
burn a brand on the forehead and consign them to the appropriate shelf.
Jesus
would have none of that because he forgot to bring his label maker to
Bethlehem. All he can do then is look
people in the eye and into their hearts.
He could see whom this woman was and knew what she had done, but when
Jesus plays this game he doesn’t call you out after the third strike and send you
to the bench.
Instead,
he does what no umpire ever does. He
reached around this woman and held his hands on here hands and says, “Let’s try
it again, only this time watch me.”
That’s
the offer he made when he said to her, “The water I give will become a well
spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”[4]
Jesus later describes that water
this way, "Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who
believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, 'Out of the believer's heart
shall flow rivers of living water.' " The Bible says he meant this as a
metaphor for the Spirit.”[5]
Jesus said to this woman whose
soul was cracked and parched as dry as this sun baked land, “Come to me and you
won’t be thirsty any more. You will receive new life an eternal life, life in
the spirit.”
Now, Bible scholars will break
this phrase down into little pieces.
They will cross-reference each word and parse the Greek to figure out
exactly what this life in the Spirit means.
What I’d like you do today is watch what this new life in the Spirit did
for this woman at the well.
When she received this living
water she leaves her water jug at the well, the one that held ordinary water
because Jesus was right. The water he
gave came gushing up out of her. The
last we see of her she’s up off the bench and running to town as fast as she
can to tell the exact same people who rejected her that she has met the
Messiah. Something has so changed in her
life that she is eager to get back in the game.
That’s what most of us are looking for.
Another great spiritual coach
put it this way. “It ain’t over till
it’s over.”[6] So get up there and take another swing.
How many stories do we find in
the gospel like that?
Jesus kneels down next to a
woman facing an angry crowd filled with righteous indignation over her sin of
adultery, doodles their sins in the dust and says, “Whoever is without sin, let
him cast the first stone.” When they
fade into the shadows of regret he turns to the woman and says, “Go and sin no
more.”[7] Take another swing. Stand up and try again. Only this time let the spirit guide you.
Zacheus and the Prodigal son,
Mary Magdalene and this Samaritan woman and many in this sanctuary all tell the
same story. When they thought they had
struck out in life and began shuffling back to the dugout to sit on the bench
and watch life go by, Jesus called them back and said, “Let’s give it another
try”, and then encircled them with his arms and said, “This time try to do it
like this. Watch me.”
The world is filled with
strikeout victims, with people who expect to be benched because they didn’t
measure up. It is filled with people who
through no fault of their own were born into situation and circumstance that
never gave them a chance. It is filled
with people who because the choices they made, swing and miss and miss again.
It is filled with people who have given in and given up.
To each and everyone Jesus says,
“Let’s give this another try. This time,
watch me.” Let each of us “look to Jesus
the author and perfecter of our faith.”[8]
Lord, all of us know what it means
to swing and miss. All of us have found
ourselves in the rough trying to hack our way out. Sometimes we are tempted to give in and give
up. Meet us where we are, we pray, as
you met that long ago woman where she was. Pick us up so that we may try again
and keep our eyes upon you. Grant us the
same living water that leads to eternal life.
Amen.
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