 | The New England Church PulpitNew England Congregational Church UCC |
FORMS OF THE INVISIBLE | John 4.5-26 | March 3, 2002 |
There is a Word that exists beyond words. It is a Word of Truth, an invisible Something that resonates with something deep inside ourselves, and connects us to Something beyond ourselves. It is an elusive Word that often evades our probing, but presents itself just when we least expect it to warm our souls from the inside out.
The Samaritan woman heard that Word as she talked with Jesus at the well that day. It was an awkward meeting, a meeting that pitted two people from bitterly segregated social groups, a meeting that brought together two vulnerable people, a meeting of a man and a woman in a way that men and women were not to meet in those days. They spoke words to each other, but each was heard behind those words a Word of truth that inspired them.
Perhaps she was flirting with him. She was known to do that. Perhaps he was toying with her. He was known to do that. But whatever the surface level of their conversation, the invisible was clearly eking it’s way into their souls. He said things to her she didn’t want to hear at first, but sensing some larger Truth here she said in effect “I don’t like what you’re saying, I don’t understand what you’re saying, but tell me again.” There is something that rings true beyond the words that are spoken. The invisible Word of an invisible God was becoming incarnate for each of them, and the water in that well became more than water that day, for God revealed Something of Truth that would last a lifetime, not only for them, but for us as we retell the story.
In Robert Frost’s poem ‘For Once, Then, Something’ he tells of looking in a well, seeking something. For the most part he sees himself, reflected in the well water, in the center of a wreath of ferns and fluffy clouds. But he senses there is more. And sure enough, Once he caught a fleeting glimpse of something white, something uncertain, something more than the depths. What was it: truth? But at least he saw something that encouraged his quest; it wasn’t much but it was enough.
It is too easy to judge life and situations and the future on the words we hear. Those with stock in Enron are shocked at the words they heard on the television that day, but an invisible Word beckons faith in that which is larger than a collapsing economy. Life is more than stock, life is more than our accumulated assets. Life is more than lab reports and data and productivity. The well of resources for life is more than a wishing well; it reflects more than our own image looking back at us. There are resources far beyond our knowing, and they are to be found deep within ourselves where God resides, and far beyond ourselves where the invisible Holy is beyond words. They are the surprises that catch us off guard in that moment of Truth that peeks back at us from the well.
Oscar-nominated film director Robert Altman says that some of the best moments in his films happened by accident. “The best six, seven moments in any film that I’ve ever done have come from left field, or someplace that I had nothing to do with them,” he said. Suddenly it was just, ‘Wow, what was that?’” That’s why I don’t give actors much direction. It spoils the spontaneity. In the same way, if we take too much direction from others–the bible, leaders, friends, instruction books–we tend to lose our own identity. The invisible is deep inside to prompt our decisions, to help us sort our dilemmas. And we can trust that which is Holy.
Jesus demonstrated in this encounter that Truth is not found in correct belief. There were social beliefs that the woman and the disciples embraced, but which only pointed to the truth. It is not so much what you believe, but what you believe in, what you experience in your encounter with God. A map points the way, but it is not the trip. A recipe gives instructions but it is not the meal. A bible tells stories and is filled with words but it is not itself the Truth; it is not the Word of God until it is known in your experience as truth. Even Jesus per se is not the truth. It is that Holy Invisible Something that gives us the courage to live boldly in the face of evil that becomes the Word. It is that Inexpressible Experience that empowers you to live with courage beyond the words of the doctor or your stock broker or your clergyman or your assumptions. Jeremiah tells us that Truth is written on our hearts; it is innately in our being.
It is the invisible that prompts a group of men to attack the would-be hijackers in Pennsylvania so it can’t fly back to Washington DC to crash into the White House; it is the invisible that whispers to a gay or lesbian or bisexual person that their sexuality is a gift, and prompts them to declare themselves to the world against the risks of being ostracized; it is the invisible that empowers a parent to fight the system that is keeping their special-needs child out of the mainstream; it is the invisible that undergirds a church like New England Church to stand with unpopular, marginalized people in a society and risk a reputation of losing members and income. Some people have left because of the bold stand we have taken, and we are stronger for it. Not stronger because they’ve left, but stronger because we’ve been bold in proclaiming our ministry regardless of the risk.
Today we eat a cube of bread and sip a thimble of wine, not much food by quantity for a journey that faces death, or debilitating illness, or bankruptcy. It is not much more than Frost’s momentary glimpse of Something beyond the surface. But for Once, it is Something. There is an invisible quality to this bread and wine that empower us. It is not magical power nor a religious obligation that makes it thus, but rather some Word that taps into the invisible, some Something which touches the life we lived before we were born on this earth and the life we will live beyond this world, some Holy connection to all that has gone before us and all that will go after us, and all that is Truth today. Sometimes we don’t believe a word of it, but we eat it again.
Our own resident poet Alan Harris has penned these words about ‘Word’:
No mouth big enough to say it,
no voice sweet enough to sing it,
but there, riding on every breath,
is the Word from which words rain down.
(From Heartclips 1996)
–Gary L. McCann
FOR ONCE, THEN, SOMETHING
Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
Me myself in the summer heaven godlike
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more of the depths–and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at bottom,
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.
–Robert Frost
THE WELL IS WITHIN US
In Buddhism, the source of our energy is faith in our daily practice. Faith in an idea is too risky. Ideas can change, even ideas about the Buddha. Tomorrow we may not believe the same thing, and we may fall into the abyss of doubt. We know very well that our daily practice of mindful living has brought us joy and peace, and so we have faith and confidence in our practice. It is a kind of experiential faith. We know that when we practice walking mindfully, we refresh ourselves, and we feel peace and joy with every step. No one can remove this from us because we have tasted reality. This kind of faith gives us real strength.
In Buddhism, we speak of touching nirvana with our own body. In Christianity, you also touch the Kingdom of God with your body, right here and now. It is much safer than placing our hope in the future. If we cling to our idea of hope in the future, we might not notice the peace and joy that are available in the present moment. The best way to take care of the future is to take care of the present moment. Practicing conscious breathing, aware of each thought and each act, we are reborn, fully alive, in the present moment. We needn’t abandon our hope entirely, but unless we channel our energies toward being aware of what is going on in the present moment, we might not discover the peace and happiness that are available right now. The well is within us. If we dig deeply in the present moment, the water will spring forth.
(From Living Buddha, Living Christ by Thich Nhat Hanh)
| Copyright © 2002 by Gary L. McCann. All rights reserved. |