February 27, 2008

Lent 3
John 4 / Lutherans

Vocation

The story of Jesus and the woman at the well. And it's not just anywhere that Jesus pulled in for a pit stop. It was Jacob's well. Some of you may have heard of him. "Way, way back many centuries ago, not long after the Bible began, Jacob lived in the land of Canaan, a fine example of a family man..." [1]

Around here Jacob may now be one small step (or a great big leap) away from superstar but he started out as the twin who was a momma's boy, then shafted his brother Esau, lied to his dad, and when things got too hot, ran away from home, fled, only to continue his crafty ways elsewhere. As the music goes, "It's all there in the book of Genesis, chapter 27." "Jacob, Jacob and sons." His very name means Crooked One in Hebrew, or simply Crook for short, or you could also translate his name as Grabber.

So here's Jacob's well, a watering hole named for someone who is crooked or at the very least bent outa shape in his relationships, unwell, really, his ethics and behavior showing that he's on the take, and his sons and family, misshapen by father's blind eye and grabbiness, they show the effects.

Many years later, here's this woman at Jacob's well, and she's not much better. I can't imagine that her family (whatever shape that took - "family"), was healthy, given her grabbiness for men. And Jacob's well is in Samaria, the land of a whole people bent in the wrong direction, including out of line with the official relligion. ("Should you go to Jerusalem or stay in Samaria to go to church?" We won't get into that and neither did Jesus, but it shows how out of whack they were - and others thought so, too.)

It's at this well, Jacob's well, just outside Sychar in Samaria, that Jesus stops during his trip back home to Galilee. The woman's reaction? "Typical male!" He's in Samaria. People don't come here; they go through here or they end up here because they're lost. "Typical male - too proud to ask directions!" And he's going to give me something to drink?!? "Typical male," she thinks (and she's known a few). He doesn't even have a bucket! Just like a guy - all foam and no beer!

But Jesus wasn't lost. It wasn't by accident that he was there at Jacob's well. He knew exactly where he was headed. "He had to go through Samaria," it says, not because the map said so but for the good health of this person and her male friends - and her community besides.

Jesus wasn't there for the quality of the water. She may have thought so, but Jesus didn't have her take just a single satisfying sip of H20. He immersed her in his Living Water and when she resurfaced it was just as he said: "The water that I give will gush up like a fountain of eternal life."

It did take her a while to recognize it. She visualized the Roman aqueducts, indoor plumbing installed right to her own kitchen sink. When she discovered that this Living Water was piped directly to her heart - and what that did for her - she became a wellspring for others. Her neighbors came for a drink of that water. Some came because of what the woman said; she was that quite obviously now a whole and well-changed person. Many of the rest of her neighbors tasted it for themselves and realized that, as Jesus also said, "Those who drink the water that I give will never be thirsty."

It's a story of wellness in unlikely places. "Jacob, Jacob and sons..." - their relationships were eventually made healthy for the first time, really, re-modeled, re-shaped in forgiveness. They weren't at first, but now they're ready to be - and they became - a blessing to the nations, just as God had promised Grandpa Abraham and Isaac. The woman of Samaria and the citizens of Sychar, truly healthy for the first time, now not so putzy about details of religious practice but busy spreading news about lives that are healthy once we know the source of it. It started with one but spread to many.

Neil Armstrong was the first human being to set foot on the surface of the moon. When he returned he lived up to the wider, deeper meaning of his words. "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." It wasn't about him. You didn't see then and (as far as I know we) still don't see Neil Armstrong on the take, doing the talk-show circuit, campaigning for politicians or commercial products, or cashing in financially. "In fact, the Smithsonian Institution had to beg him for an interview. He finally agreed to do it as long as they agreed not to film it.

"Here's why: Neil Armstrong doesn't want his own reputation to take away from the contributions of thousands of people who worked behind the scenes, for decades, to make his achievement possible... Nothing that huge could ever have been the work of just one individual... Every single person who worked on the [moon landing] project... knew they had something to offer." [2]

Around our own church this weekend, only a fraction of the many people involved in the "Joseph" musical - all the desserts, backstage, up front, plus the attendance and the financial support you've given - only a fraction are getting on the airplane this summer and actually spending time in El Salvador. Yet I've never heard anyone talk about their mission trip; it's always our trip.

Among Lutherans we call this idea "the priesthood of believers" - that the Christian church and God's work in the world are the calling, the vocation, of every single one of us, and we all have our part in the message and the mission, no matter what our jobs or genders, our age or where we spend our time.

Neil Armstrong is an example; someone had to be the first man down, but it wasn't his moon landing. The woman at the well is an example; when she drank from Living Water, she knew there's plenty to share with everyone and she wouldn't run dry. Off she went to make a difference in her town - and (in the unabridged version of this story) you could point out that the disciples, in this case, were fairly useless. "Jacob, Jacob and sons..." Jacob had not been much of an example to his sons and their families. Frankly he came close to derailing the blessing train, but Joseph got the original promise back on track. His faithfulness in all his circumstances eventually got him where God intended him to be.

It's a distinctly Lutheran angle in the Christian church, this idea that we're all of us "priests" - ordained in holy baptism - to help keep the blessings on track for those around us. Forgiveness is one of those ways; absolution doesn't require an official of the church to be effective. Pastors are called precisely so that you and I don't miss hearing and believing forgiveness; sometimes we listen better when it is public and official. But forgiveness can happen anytime and from any one of you - and oughta!

And prayer. It's no accident that non-pastors lead most of the prayers in our worship. And I chose the song we'll sing next [3] not just because it's Number One on the Family of Christ Hit Parade but because the words express my point: WE pray not just for ourselves but it's our priesthood for one another. Our children often read for us in church, sometimes not very well but there's a message: It's their Bible, too, and if we listen to our children, we might hear a wellness story for ourselves about how quality doesn't qualify us but faith sure does.

Comforts at a time of death, meals to a family with a baby, friends devoting time to listen, going to school each day and coming home to chores, faithfulness in a job you don't like but it pays the bills - all of it is ministry, and that was an innovation first brought to the attention of the church by Martin Luther and since then picked up by many (but not all) Christians. This Lenten preaching series this year helps us remember that we share a vocation with Joseph and the woman at the well. And as you saw, it doesn't stop with them.

Vocation is the difference between an occupation and a calling, something we're meant to do because there's something deeper in it, a sense of purpose that can only come from God. God puts us into the place where God believes we can serve him and the world best. And yes, it changes often, depending on how old we are, our family situation, our employment, and where we happen to be at any particular time. Every one of us (including five-times married, including crooks, grabbers, and the children of people like us) is called, oftenh beyond our ability to see it.

His dream was to be a rock star; his problem was he didn't have the voice for it. So after college he went to work in a law office while he studied for the bar exam. But he kept writing songs, and one night a week he worked in a record shop.

He also put together a proposal for a book about the history of British rock and roll. It got turned down, but one publisher suggested that he contact a young composer named Andrew Lloyd Webber. Tim Rice did that , and they hit it off. They spent two years working together on a musical - that was never published.

The best offer they got was to write something for the choir at a private school. They wouldn't get paid for it, and it'd be performed in an auditorium, not a theater. The only positive was the chance that some school book company would publish their work, and that would mean a little income from sales of sheet music. Tim Rice said it was "a bit like being offered an outside chance of writing a best-selling Latin textbook."

That school performance, of course, turned into "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" - and from there you know where they went. Tim Rice described the joy of riding down Sunset Boulevard in a stretch-limo "hearing our songs playing on the radio, all my dreams come true." Then he added, "I was not actually a pop star, but that was a minor detail." [4]

I'm not a pop star either, but that's a minor detail, since I'm only a pastor. But then, you're "only" what you are, and so was Joseph, and so was the woman at the well - and look what they did with it.

Nate Castens
Chanhassen, Minnesota

[1] This weekend our church presented the musical "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat." I had the quite minor role of Jacob. Some quotes in here are from the script.

[2] p. 83-84, Kelly A Fryer, Reclaiming the "L" Word, Augsburg 2003

[3] The single most requested song at FOC is "Kyrie Eleison," (Dakota Road) from our contemporary services (or see Setting 8, ELW, p. 184)

[4] Info from (but the source not attributed in) "Nothing will change..." in Dale Dauten's "Corporate Curmudgeon" column, StarTribune, May 17, 2000