COVID-19 Reflection #12: Discipleship Revisited

This is the 12th of my COVID-19 Reflections written primarily for my Bible Study regulars who have been unable to get together since our nasty virus made its appearance. Once again, I focus on the call to discipleship. 

And if you're really a glutton for punishment and want to watch videos of me preaching these reflections, you can find these videos here on YouTube: Bible Study Reflections

Blessings and good health to all.
_____________________________

About 25 years ago, my former spiritual director concluded one of our sessions by saying, “Being a disciple of Jesus Christ is a full-time job.”

We had just spent most of an hour talking about how we tend to compartmentalize our lives and fail to realize that discipleship must drive every aspect of life, transcending and permeating our very being. Yes, indeed, a “full-time job.” So, let’s take a look at the Gospels and see what this job entails.

When we read the Gospels, two major themes become obvious. 

The first is the story of the Incarnation, of Emmanuel, God with us. It’s the living revelation of the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Redeemer of humanity who became one of us. Jesus revealed the Father to us, taught us, healed us, sacrificed His life for us, rose from the dead with the promise, the hope, of eternal life, and gave us the gift of the Holy Spirit to guide us on our journey. It’s quite a story, isn’t it?

But throughout the Gospels another theme becomes evident: the path to discipleship. As we follow Jesus Christ in the Gospels, we also witness men and women on their spiritual journey in response to Jesus’ call.

Some respond at once and, filled with the Holy Spirit, follow Jesus on the Way [Mk 10:46-52]. Others respond but hesitate, struggling to understand and accept the fullness of the call [Jn 3:1-21]. Some, touched by doubt and weighed down by the burdens of their earthly lives, listen to the Word and come to accept the gift of faith [Lk 17:5-6]. Despite all their doubts and struggles, many persevere, and God blesses them with the gift of the Holy Spirit who reveals all [Jn 16:13].

Sadly, though, so many turned away from Jesus unable to accept Him as “the Way, the Truth, and the Life” [Jn 14:6]. Some considered Jesus a threat [Mt 2:3-4]; some were shocked by His teachings [Jn 6:60-66]; and others refused to turn away from the path they followed, from their own ways [Lk 18:18-23].

Yes, it’s all there in the Gospels – the good, the bad, and the ugly – but it’s all there to teach us and help us on our own journeys of discipleship. 

Today, as you and I make a brief visit to the Gospel, let’s try, following the lead of St. Ignatius of Loyola, to place ourselves in the person of the disciple who encounters Jesus. In other words, instead of seeing the Gospel as an encounter between Jesus and another, make it a meditative, personal encounter between you and Jesus. Share the encounter, take part in it, experience Jesus in the Gospel and realize He’s waiting there for you as well.

In the Gospels, of course, we find many wonderful encounters between Jesus and others. Our reflection, though, will focus on only one, an encounter described beautifully in the Gospel according to John [Jn 4:4-42].

I know you’re all familiar with the passage, but God’s Word never gets old. It always teaches us anew. Take a few minutes now and turn to the Holy Spirit in prayer, asking Him to let the scene come alive in your heart. Then reread the passage…Do it now!

_______________________

We find ourselves in a small village of Samaria. Because of centuries-long hostility between Jews and Samaritans, most Jews avoided Samaria and its people whenever possible. But not Jesus, who came for all, calling everyone to repentance and faith [Mk 1:15].

Interestingly, Samaritans make several appearances in the Gospels. We all know the Parable of the Good Samaritan [Lk 10:25-37], in which the despised foreigner and heretic proves to be far more charitable than either Jewish priest or Levite. Only the Samaritan fully understands the commandment -- “Love your neighbor as yourself” [Lv 19:18; Mt 19:19] – and actually lives it.

"Then he lifted him up..." [Lk 10:34]

And who can forget the ten lepers who begged Jesus for healing? Jesus healed all ten, but Luke tells us the rest of the story:

"And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked Him. He was a Samaritan. Jesus said in reply, 'Ten were cleansed, were they not? Where are the other nine? Has none but this foreigner returned to give thanks to God?" [Lk 17:15-18]

"One of them, realizing he had been healed, returned"

Jesus, then, didn’t hesitate to highlight the faith and works of Samaritans, if only to remind the Jews that they had no monopoly on God’s love or His truth, and that He had come for the salvation of all.

With this in mind, we watch as Jesus and the apostles enter this Samaritan village and make their way toward the well.

With the sun directly overhead, the air is thick with heat, and the horizon shimmers in the distance. The village is quiet for it’s the kind of day when few dare to venture out under the mid-day sun. The village women usually go to the well in the early morning, or when dusk brings a cooling breeze. Chattering and laughing, sharing the latest gossip, their communal walks are as much social events as necessity – yes, a welcome break in a day filled with the hard work of maintaining a home.

But today, as Jesus approaches the well, He spots a solitary woman making her way toward us along the path. He expects to see her, for He knows she makes her way to the well every day at noontime, and always alone. It’s the one time she knows no one else will be there. For her, there’s never any banter or gossip -- no laughter, no singing to make the path smoother, no friendly hand thrown out to steady the jar when she stumbles. 

She tells herself she doesn’t care. She tells herself it means nothing to her. Bunch of chattering fools. Who needs them? 

She pretends that this solitary walk in the midday heat is her choice.

I prefer being alone. Besides, I never have to wait -- No one’s in my way, no petty quarrels, no children underfoot. No people…No problems…No snide remarks…

Of course, it hadn't always been this way. Once, in another village, in another lifetime, she’d been a part of it all -- the laughing, the singing, the trivial chatter that said so little, but meant so much. 

Yes, once she’d taken her place among the women…as wife, neighbor, friend. But that was years ago, and many men ago. 

In a world that was rarely kind to widows and orphans and especially to the divorced, she’d learned how to make her own way. 

In a world where the weak and powerless were often tossed aside and forced to move in the shadows, she’d learned how to be strong. 

In a world that measured a woman's worth by her relationships to father, husband, brother, and son, she’d learned how to be a survivor without them. 

But that survival came at a price – and for her, one small part of that meant going to the well alone. 

“Amen,” she says aloud. So be it.

There had been five men in her life, and the current one, though not her husband, isn’t as bad as some, and better than most. 

Things could be worse, she thinks, and then laughs aloud. The well could be dry.

As she walks along the path, the heat rises in waves, scorching her feet right through her worn sandals. Sweat trickles down her back, and she tastes the dust deep in her throat. The large jug, though empty, feels especially heavy today. The trip back to her home will be a long one. 

And then, looking up, she sees Him -- a stranger -- sitting at the well.

"Give Me a Drink."

Later, much later - when everyone asked her about that day: about what He said and what He did, she would answer:

He told me about water, and about thirst…and we talked about Jerusalem and mountains and worship and eternal life. He told me about spirit and truth, about so very much besides. And He told me about myself. He told me everything, and I finally understood the difference between surviving and living.

Yes, indeed, Jesus knew all about her her past, and offered her a future in which the past didn't count. 

He knew all about her present, and yet, instead of condemning her for her sins, He loved her for her weaknesses and turned them into strengths. How did He do that?

He knew why she went to the well at noon, and yet he still trusted her to proclaim the Good News to her neighbors. 

Come and see a man who told me all that I ever did…” [Jn 4:29, 39]

Imagine the courage it took for her, of all people, to run back into the very heart of the village, to proclaim that message to her disapproving neighbors! What boldness! What faith!

They, too, knew everything she had done…or thought they did.

Come and see! She said, to anyone who would listen. Come and see! He’s waiting for you. Can this be the Christ? And, as John tells us, they came:

“Many Samaritans from that town believed in Him because of the woman’s testimony” [Jn 4:39].

Was it her passion, her boldness? Or was it something else? What made them believe her? Perhaps it was the living water, the Word of the Word of God, that she shared with such unbound enthusiasm.

Brothers and sisters, Jesus also knows everything about you and me. He knows every sin and every act of kindness, every strength and every weakness.

Notice, too, how wrong we often are about ourselves, how limited our self-knowledge. What the Samaritan woman saw as a strength – her avoidance of others, her self-imposed isolation, her toughness – Jesus recognized for what it was, weakness.

It’s to that weakness that He calls her, sending her out among them, turning the sinner into a missionary.

This is what Jesus always does when He has serious work to accomplish in the world: He calls us to the task through our weaknesses. And by doing so reveals God’s greatness all the more.

Notice, too, that this Samaritan woman was given a choice. She could have filled her jug and returned home, but instead she left the jug behind and ran off to spread the word about the Word. It’s the same choice given to the Apostles as they mended their nets and heard Jesus say, “Come, follow me.” The call to discipleship always involves a choice, and always involves leaving something behind.

What about you and me? Will we fill our water jugs, turn our backs on Jesus, and go home? Will we mend our nets and let Jesus walk on by? Can we set aside the things of our lives, the jugs and nets, our willful natures, our possessions, our sinfulness, all that's keeping us from answering His call? Every life has its water jogs and its nets. Can we leave them behind and abandon ourselves to live according to God's will?

The Good News is in the promise of Jesus, given to the Apostles at the Last Supper:

"Whoever loves me will keep my Word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him" [Jn 14:23].

With Christ deep within you, and seeing Christ all around you in others, your life can become a gift to the world, a visible sign of His love and His final coming.

So, you see, Christ wants to dwell within you, to make you a God-bearer like Mary, so you can carry Him to others. 

Our nameless Samaritan woman listened to Jesus and responded. She not only became a disciple, but she also became something more: before Peter, before Paul, she became a missionary for Jesus Christ, taking the Word to others.

And perhaps most revealing for you and me, she became that missionary but never left her hometown. She never left her village.