Sermon from September 30, 2007
Thomas Torrance, a Scotsman, pastored in Scotland for a decade. Then, he served as a professor of church history and theology at New College, Edinburgh University, became Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland for several years, and wrote more books than you can shake a stick at.
When he served as Moderator of the General Assembly, he had a memorable experience in Jerusalem. He and his wife had visited the Yad Vashem Holocaust Memorial, and afterwards, he had an amazing conversation about Christianity and Jews with officials from The Ministry of Religion in Jerusalem. The next day, the Mayor of Jerusalem arranged a personal guided tour of the Old City for the Torrances. They visited the traditional site of the crucifixion of Jesus. I’ll let Professor Torrance tell you in his own words what happened next.
“By design the guide brought us at the end to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and to Calvary, the spot where, as far as can be determined, or near which, Jesus was crucified. My wife and I knelt with the other pilgrims in silence, awe and prayer, while our Israeli guide stood back a little, waiting. As we came away he took me aside and said that he could never understand why Christians were divided at that place. I stood rooted to the ground, appalled and overcome with shame. I do not think I had ever before realised with such force the blasphemy against the blood of Christ which we perpetuate by our divisions in the Christian Church. And the divisions manifested at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre are quite shocking, for whether the clergy ministering there are Greeks or Latins, Armenians, Copts or Ethiopians, they seem to quarrel with one another in rivalry over matters of privilege and control in such a way that the key to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre has had to be given into the charge of a Muslim. That state of affairs at Calvary indicates the fearful wound which we have inflicted by our divisions upon the Church which is the Body of Christ.” (The Mediation of Christ, 45-46)
If we make the good ship Brandywine more seaworthy for her voyage into unknown waters, it will take us to places where we need to build bridges to people who are uncomfortably different from us. Are we willing to build them? In previous Sundays, I talked about building bridges to people whose values and behavior and whose religion are different from ours. Today, I would like to talk about building bridges to Christians with whom we have differences. Let’s drop anchor today in the deep waters of John 4:4-42.
Jews and Samaritans
Now he (Jesus) had to go through Samaria. Jews and Samaritans, who were half Jewish, didn’t like each other; but they had much in common. Both worshiped the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Both honored Abraham, Isaac and Jacob as the fathers of their nations. Both celebrated Passover. Both cherished the Torah, the first five books of the Bible.
Samaritans rejected Jerusalem as the place to worship God. They favored Mt. Gerizim. That alone would explain much of the antagonism between Jew and Samaritan. But Jesus had to go through Samaria.
So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about the sixth hour.
Here’s how bad things were between them. Verses 7-9: When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.) No one was more astonished than the Samaritan woman.
The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.) And Jewish men did not associate with Samaritan women, especially if they were strangers to each other.
Jesus had to know that His public liberties with a Samaritan woman would not please His fellow Jews, including His disciples, if word got back to them. He did it with eyes wide open. I have chosen this episode, because Jesus’ effort to build a bridge to that woman offers us encouragement to build bridges and suggestions for how to build them. Let me show you five dynamics in Jesus’ strategy with the woman at the well.
First, He took the initiative. Sometimes, great opportunities are lost, because no one breaks the ice. Second, He did it on her turf. He went to Samaria. He took the risk, not only by taking the initiative but also by going outside His comfort zone. Third, He proposed a project they could both agree on – “Can I have a glass of water?” Not much of a project, but that was all it took for them to have something to do.
Last Sunday, Ambica Chako told the story of how she opens her home for Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, Hindu and atheist women to share a meal with her. You heard Nancy Cordrey tell her story about inviting neighbors to Bible Study for Today. Evangelicals and Catholics worked together on a Rose and a Prayer. Jesus asked for a glass of water.
Fourth, the project created a context in which Jesus and the Samaritan woman could talk about what they had in common and what they disagreed about. Let me show you examples of both.
Verse ten: Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” We never use the expression “living water” outside a religious context. “Living water” simply means running water. Jesus used this figure of speech to talk about the life of God in the human soul.
To the woman. living water meant running water. Standing water meant stagnant water. She liked the idea of living water. But she was skeptical. “Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his flocks and herds?”
“Our father Jacob!” Every Jew in Israel would have said, “Our father Jacob.” Nothing might come of it, but in that moment Jew and Samaritan had identified common ground between them. Verse 25 is even more dramatic. The woman said, “I know that Messiah” (called Christ) “is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.” Every Jew in Israel would have said, “I know that Messiah . . . is coming.” Nothing might come of it, but in that moment Jew and Samaritan had identified significant common ground between them.
They also found disagreement between them. Verses 19-20: “Sir,” the woman said, “I can see that you are a prophet. Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem.” She put her finger on one of those stalemates that threaten any relationship with premature extinction. But something else was about to happen.
Fifth, the water project Jesus had initiated created a context in which a breakthrough moment occurred. It’s hard to plan these, but when they happen, they change everything. Here’s how it happened between the Jesus and the woman.
Verses 13-18: Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”
The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water so that I won't get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”
He told her, “Go, call your husband and come back.” That was the courteous thing to do. If this conversation were to move on to more serious issues, her husband needed to be part of it. But Jesus had opened an old wound.
“I have no husband,” she replied. You would think Jesus would let it alone; but no, He has to push the envelope even further.
Jesus said to her, “You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true.” The unspoken message was: “You have a thirst that men and marriage don’t satisfy. That’s why you need the water I have to offer.”
Reflections
In light of this remarkable exchange I’d like to share with you an experience I have had over the past three years. In 2004 Mel Gibson’s movie, “The Passion of the Christ,” stirred powerful emotions within the American Jewish community. Thanks to the good offices of Tim Houseal, a forum was held at the Jewish Community Center to air some of the concerns about the movie.
I represented evangelicals on the forum along side a Jewish Rabbi and a Catholic Priest. The three of us first gathered at Christ Our King Church in Wilmington, and there we met the man, who would moderate the forum. He was Ed Gordon, the Religious Education Director of the Catholic Diocese of Wilmington.
The forum took place before a standing-room-only audience. It lasted for more than two hours, and my sense was that people didn’t want it to stop. Be that as it may, the forum had the unintended consequence of my having lunch later that spring with Ed Gordon. We have been meeting ever since.
He trained for the priesthood, but did not become a priest. His knowledge of theology and church history, his involvement in faith and values television programming, and his willingness to share some of the challenges Catholics face in religious education have made our conversations not only interesting but instructive.
Among the most memorable was a spring lunch outside at Catherine Rooney’s in Trolley Square. I have never gotten over his observation about the future of the Catholic Church in America. He said, “For decades the Catholic Church grew by successive waves of immigration from Ireland, Italy, Poland, Germany and elsewhere. But the old ethnic ties are dying. The next generation of Catholics in this country will have to come by the conversion of people to Jesus Christ through the gospel.”
I thought for a moment I was at a Billy Graham pre-crusade rally. Other conversations brought our differences to light. I remember sitting together in Macaroni Grill, and Ed said to me, “So, what place does Mary have in Evangelical thought and experience?” I found it uncomfortable to say and not be able to explain that outside the Christmas story we seldom speak of Mary.
I see BVBC in a position to build bridges to three other groups of Christians: Roman Catholics, African-American Christians, and charismatics. Here are some guidelines for engaging them.
The Pastoral Center of Gravity
First, look for you have in common. We should expect to find not only common moral ground but also scripture, theology, history and spiritual aspirations.
Second, look for a project to do together. Making common cause to support unborn human life has done more to bring evangelical and Catholic together than anything else in 500 years.
Third, as we discover what we have in common and work together on common projects, a context comes into existence in which we can begin to have conversations that reveal what we have in common and what we disagree about.
I had an especially tender drive from Dover to Wilmington in May, when Carole and I gave two Catholic women a ride to Fairfax Shopping Center. As I asked questions and listened, I heard those women talk about their devotion to Jesus Christ, their spiritual aspirations for their children, and their commitment to pro-life issues. Conversations like that don’t take away differences, but they make it harder to pigeonhole people; they make it easier to love people.
I’d like to offer three more guidelines. First, don’t pretend differences don’t matter. They do matter, and pretending otherwise is an insult to serious people. Talk about the differences; understand the differences; agree to disagree about the differences. Don’t forget to affirm how much we have in common.
Second, be willing to learn from the other person and to receive correction, if necessary. People who disagree with us are not fools. Maybe we can correct their understanding, but the first task is to open yourself to them.
Back in the mid-90s, I taught students the Bible for four years at Philadelphia Biblical University as an adjunct teacher. A young, African-American pastor in Philadelphia was in my first class. We seemed to resonate with each other.
To my surprise we ended up at a pastors’ conference in Atlanta a couple of years later. I didn’t even know he was there. We met in the terminal, when we discovered that our flight back to Philadelphia had been canceled due to snow. But Delta Airlines was willing to fly us to Cincinnati. He said we should do that, because his mom lived in Cincinnati, and if we could go to Philadelphia, we could stay at his house.
I’m praying, “Lord, let it snow in Philadelphia.” When was the last time you spent a night in the home of an African-American? Well, it didn’t happen. We flew on to Philly. But I’ll never forget the hour and a half ride to Cincinnati and the hour and a half ride to Philadelphia. We talked about black-white issues in a way that has never happened before in my life. I learned lessons from him that night that will last a lifetime.
Finally, aim small. Building bridges to Christians we disagree with happens at the grass roots, or it doesn’t happen. It is millions and millions of acts of friendship here and friendship there over a century or so that will begin to heal “the fearful wound which we have inflicted by our divisions upon the Church which is the Body of Christ.” (The Mediation of Christ, 45-46)