Don't catch it! But if you do, don't spread it around. And don't let it keep you down.
Third Sunday of Lent A
There’s
a nasty sort of illness going around these days…
…and
I’m not talking about the violent stomach bug
that’s
laid so many people low.
I’m
talking about a chronic outbreak of crabbiness.
I’m not pointing fingers here!
I
admit that I have been afflicted with it myself.
My
fuse has grown quite short, my patience worn quite thin.
Thankfully,
only a few
of
the snide remarks passing through my mind
have
made their way out across my lips.
Now, I don't want you to think
that you should be afraid to shake my hand on the way out of church!
I'm well on the way to recovery,
and believe I'm past the contagious stage.
This illness is
not good.
And
I know that other people
have
noticed this disorder on the rise lately, too.
No
doubt, for many folks it’s brought on by the weather.
The
calendar now says it’s spring,
but
spring isn’t exactly what you see outside the window...
...if you can still see out the window.
...if you can still see out the window.
It’s
been a pretty tough winter,
and
it doesn’t look quite ready to let go just yet.
Before Mass yesterday, a parishioner came into the sacristy and said,
"I sure hope we're praying for spring at this Mass.
Even my cat is depressed!"
Before Mass yesterday, a parishioner came into the sacristy and said,
"I sure hope we're praying for spring at this Mass.
Even my cat is depressed!"
I don’t think winter is the source of my problem.
I
made peace with the cold and snow years ago.
I actually like a number of winter activates,
and have even gone out winter camping a few nights.
I actually like a number of winter activates,
and have even gone out winter camping a few nights.
No, the
problem for me
is that this time of year has gotten extra busy.
is that this time of year has gotten extra busy.
I'll spare you the details,
but I’ve
let myself get overwhelmed—
racing
about, trying to do too much in too little time.
I’m
certain this sort of thing sounds familiar to you,
since
this dis-ease I’m calling crabbiness is nothing new.
In
our first reading, we hear about a time (certainly not the only one)
when
the Israelites were a bit cranky, too.
They’ve
escaped from slavery in Egypt,
but
now they’re wandering about thirsty in the desert.
The
people grumble against Moses,
and
Moses then gripes about it to the Lord.
Someone
who isn’t grumpy
is
the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well.
She
easily could be.
She’s
out doing a daily chore at about noon, we’re told—
when
it’s getting to be the hottest part of the day.
It’s
safe to assume that she simply wants
to
fill her water jar and get back home.
But
sitting there is this chatty man—
a
hated Jewish foreigner, no less—
who’s
only going to slow the whole process down.
And
yet, in the midst of a routine task—
and
a fairly grueling one, at that—
she
has a completely life-changing experience.
There,
at the well, where she’s gone to draw water
hundreds
and hundreds of times before,
she
very powerfully encounters God
and
will never, ever, be the same again.
Looking
at the woman at the well,
I
recognize a couple of potential cures for my own case of crabbiness.
I
share them, in case they might help alleviate someone else’s, too.
The
first is a question of priorities.
Getting
extra busy throws mine way out of whack.
Here’s
a woman taking care of necessary business.
According
to most sources,
a
healthy person can survive a month or more without food,
but
only a few days without water.
Did you notice, about
three-quarters of the way through the story,
how
the Samaritan woman leaves her empty water jug behind?
She
has discovered something even more fundamental
than
a drink of water, and without it,
nothing
else is going to make any sense any more.
The
woman at the well reminds me
to
be more careful about setting my priorities:
to
determine what’s essential,
and
to make sure it stays at the top of the list.
The
second is a question of presence.
When
I get extra busy, I might still get a lot done,
but
I’m not fully “with it”—
I’m
going through the motions,
but
without my head really in the game.
The
Samaritan woman could have done the same:
filled
her pail and walked away.
But
because she shows an openness to this mysterious stranger—
one
which increases as their conversation goes on—
she
receives a lot more than she bargained for.
Sitting
there in the full light of midday,
Jesus
opens her eyes
to
the truth about herself and her deepest desires:
that
she has an immeasurable dignity as one loved by God…
…it’s
just that she’s been looking for love in all the wrong places;
and
Jesus opens her eyes to the truth about himself:
yes,
that he is the Messiah of Israel and the Savior of the world,
but
also that he cares for her very passionately and very personally.
You never know who you might meet over a cup of water.
You never know who you might meet over a cup of water.
The thirsty, crabby Israelites put God to the test by distrustfully asking,
“Is
the Lord in our midst or not?”
This
daughter of Samaria has no use for that question!
The
woman at the well reminds me
to
be more present, to be more fully in the moment,
lest
I miss out on God’s presence here and now.
The
current outbreak of crabbiness will eventually pass
come
a break in the weather or a break in my busy schedule
or
a break in whatever brings it on for other folks.
But
in the meantime,
I’m
going to work on priorities and presence
as
this Lent continues on.
If
I can always remember
that
“the love of God has been poured out into our hearts,”
then
whatever could there be to be cranky about?
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