A few posts ago, I wrote about how seeds were such a great metaphor for life. Seeds, or lives, that sit around in dusty drawers and don't get planted are dead to the world. But seeds that are planted find real and lasting life. In response to that post, I decided to plant some seeds. That Sunday afternoon, I went to the dollar store and bought some potting soil and some pots. Out of unused cinder blocks and coffee cans I found around the house and the yard, I planted the tomato, watermelon, and okra seeds that were lying dormant in my dresser.
Ever since, I've been doing three things to cultivate these seeds. Every morning before I go into meditation, I take a look at the pots of soil to see if any sprouts have popped up. Then, I take the water hose and drip some water on each of them. Then, I pray that the seeds will grow. This morning, I prayed that God would destroy my enemies (the ants that have made a bed on top of one of my cinder block pots).
There is something inherently right about planting and watching and praying. The way I interact with these potential plants is somehow connected to how I relate to God. In today's passage for Lent, found in John chapter four, we're told that Jesus has found a seat at a well in the center of a Samaritan village. This passage is chock full of implications that could take us any different direction, but I want to focus on the conversation that occurs after the Samaritan woman realizes that Jesus knows about how she's been married five times. What follows is simply beautiful.
Jesus tells her that if she knew the generosity of God, and knew who the man sitting in front of her was, that she would be asking him for a drink (earlier, Jesus had asked her for a drink). He tells her that he has water to give her that doesn't make her thirsty again, and that it works like an artesian spring in the heart that gushes fountains of endless life.
Earlier in the conversation, she told Jesus, "You Jews believe that you have to go to Jerusalem in order to worship."
Jesus responded, "God's salvation is available through the Jews, but a time is coming when you're name will no longer matter. You will worship neither near this mountain (where the village had worshiped for years in accordance with their ancestors), nor in Jerusalem. The place will not matter. God is on the lookout for those who worship in spirit in the pursuit of truth. It's who you are, and how you live your life that matters to God."
I love this passage because it takes language that can easily become abstract and exclusive, and forms it into language that is inherently human. I wrote a couple days ago about being "born again," and that it means to pay attention and respond to the spirit inside us (the voice) that leads us to our deepest desires and passions. Jesus, in this passage is introducing this woman to the reality of being born again. In this case, the voice is inviting her to accept a living water that quenches her thirst and gushes with endless life. Maybe the water she is drinking right now is a water of co-dependence. Maybe she can't quite find satisfaction with herself, so she's mowing through husbands and boyfriends trying to find something to quench her thirst.
Jesus is essentially telling her to start listening to the real voice, my voice, and find endless life. We are once again confronted with two opposing systems - the system of life, and the system of death. We listen to the voice of life and find an artesian spring of the heart that gushes with endless life. We listen to the voice of death and find discontentment and shame.
One thing that Jesus makes clear is this: we all have the spirit of God living inside of us. The problem is, the spirit of God gets drowned out by all the noise and calamity of what we think is real life. We think real life is staying busy, having a good job and all the responsibilities that come with it, going to church or not going to church, keeping an up-to-date planner, and the list goes on and on and on. We've become so accustomed to listening to the voice of death, telling us to keep moving no matter how exhausted we are. It tells us to please everyone and take on everything.
It's so hard to make sense of the voice that says, "This is who you are, not that. This is how you really want to live, not that way."
Because we humans need language, we've created labels for everything. But, with the labels have come parameters. Jesus says that our labels no longer matter. What matters is: Are we being our true selves, and are our lives reflections of that? In the case with the woman at the well, the time was coming that the label of Samaritan of Jew would have no connection with the worship of God. For us today, the name Christian, Catholic, Buddhist, or Muslim does not determine how God views us humans. What matters is, as Jesus says, worshiping God in our true selves and living a life in response to that.
When we tap into the inner recesses of our "artesian springs" and find the source of endless life, we find that we are lives are lining up with our worship. We aren't saying one thing and doing another. Our deepest passions end up being our true connections with God, and they flow over into every part of life. When we give ourselves permission to tap into and live out our deepest desires and passions, we find a fountain gushing with endless life. We find our true selves; and we find that God is the subject in our pursuit of truth.
As we enjoy this Saturday, may we ask ourselves, "What am I most passionate about?" Then, may we ask ourselves, "What am I doing to tap into this passion?" If the answer is nothing, may we make a list of ways that we're going to start tapping into this passion daily. If there are things that we're doing, then may we ask ourselves how we're doing, and do we need to add or change anything. May we come to realize that we find water that never runs out when we tap into our deepest passions, sourced from the well of the Living Water.
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