Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Icon of Courage

This is my sermon for Lent III, preached at the Cathedral of St. Mark in Salt Lake City. I spent a week with the really great community there leading a Lenten mission retreat. What a great experience! 

Ex 17:1-7
Rm 5:1-11
Jn 4:5-42


Icon of Courage



One of the greatest aspects of Eastern Orthodox monastic spirituality that has begun to spread to the Western Church is the use of icons in both our personal and our communal prayer life. For the Orthodox, icons are a central piece of their faith journey and, over the years, that has become true for myself, as well.
And so I will often spend time not only praying and studying with the Scripture text, but with one or more icons that depict the particular biblical story that I am preparing a sermon for. Now, yesterday, at our retreat day, we spent time with the Western monastic practice of Lectio Divina, which is a particular approach to the prayerful reading of Scripture. This morning, I'd like to emphasize an approach to Scripture through Visio Divina, in this case, the prayerful interpretation of an icon. 

This practice is almost as old as Christianity itself and is allowed for us, as opposed to our Hebrew forebears, because the Incarnation, that is, God becoming human, so revolutionized our way of relating to God. The Incarnation allows us to relate to God in a much more personal way, for God dwelt with us right here on earth.
This mornings passage from St. John's Gospel presents to us the story of the Samaritan woman which is quite a long one filled with many different insights to preach on. Very often, preachers will focus on Jesus' rather unusual actions, for example just speaking to a woman, or a Samaritan, or his demand for the woman to give him water.
But I would like to spend our time this morning focusing on the Samaritan woman, on her courage, and on her modeling for us, how we might live as Christians in the world today.
First of all, the Greek Orthodox tradition has named the Samaritan woman, once she was baptized, Photini, which translates as “Enlightened One.” In fact, they claim that she is the first to proclaim the Gospel because upon her return to her town, Photini converts her five sisters, two sons, and much of the town. And she is remembered by the Orthodox as a “Holy Martyr and Equal to the Apostles.” This is high praise indeed for anyone.
And I have to say, as I have studied the various icons of Photini and of the scene at the well, and delved into John's beautiful writing of this story, I have found myself more and more drawn to Photini and her courage. The icons depict a woman of great courage that has been quite an inspiration to me.
From the story, we know that Photini had gone to the well about noon – a time when no woman would go to any well because of the heat of the day. From archaeological digs, we know that she went to a well further from her town than she had to. So, it is clear that both in the context of the time of day, and the location of the well, Photini was avoiding the other villagers. She was, after all, in the words of the Prayer Book, a “notorious sinner”, having had five husbands and was now living with yet another man. This was wholly unacceptable behavior in her day. No one in that society would have accepted it. She was a sinner and an outcast.
And so she went to a well further from the village than necessary, and at a time when she should not have encountered anyone, to draw water. Often, the commentary is made that she was avoiding the other women of the town, but she may have, in fact, been banned from the well near town because of who she was and what she had done.
But what I love about so many of the icons that depicts this scene is that Photini appears, at least to me, as sassy. That's right – downright sassy. She is often depicted in dialogue with Jesus – not simply listening, but gesturing to Jesus, just as he is gesturing, in a way that does not look to be argumentative, but rather, like I said, sassy. By the rules of the culture, a man should not be speaking to her, a Jew should not be asking her for water, and a stranger could be quite dangerous. But there she is, engaged with Jesus in what appears to me to be a very courageous way. She is speaking her mind, asking probing questions, and then, really listening to Jesus.
And when Jesus tells her that the spring of water that he will “give is a spring of water gushing up to eternal life”, Photini, spiritually parched, truly opens up to Jesus. She does not totally get him at first, who ever does? But she knows that she needs forgiveness. She knows that she needs a Messiah. She knows that she needs this gushing spring to quench the very thirst that is slowly destroying her soul.
And once she drinks from this spring of water, Photini will never be the same. What was courageousness in the guise of sassiness now becomes the courageousness of faith. We know from Scripture that Photini returns to town and begins to tell everyone about the Christ and about the fact that he knows all her sins. That, in and of itself, is courageous. We know from Tradition, that Photini would go on to further evangelize Samaria and throughout the region, finally culminating in her martyrdom by the Emperor Nero.

So what does any of this have to do with us? It just seems to me that in Photini, we have an icon of courage, and therefore an example to us in how we might behave in our day to day lives. First, to be willing to have a real encounter with Christ takes courage. Now this is not just showing up to church on Sunday, but when you do – and when you pray in the privacy of your own lives, really being open to Christ, bringing all that you are – the good, the not so good, the sassy, the frightened, all of it – bringing all of it to Christ is the first courageous step you can take.
The next one is to really, truly listen. Give Christ your burdens, your sins, your fears, and Christ gives back to you his living waters. But not just any old water, no, springs of waters. Not just a drop or two, no, water gushing eternal life in which you will never be thirsty again. It takes courage to listen. And even more to step up for a drink of that spring. And more still, to be gushed all over.
Finally, Photini shows us that an experience of faith is not just for us. It is not a singular event meant for an individual. All faith experiences are meant for the entire community, even though they may only occur to one person. The first thing Photini does after encountering the Christ was to go back to her town – a town in which she was an outcast – to proclaim the gospel. The Good News was so liberating for her that she had to share it with courage and faith.
That is why I think Photini is a model for us today. We all need to encounter Christ more fully, to truly listen to his healing, forgiving message, and to proclaim that to our families, our towns, our world. This Lent, may you have the courage of St. Photini and the blessing of Christ the Living Water. AMEN.




No comments:

Post a Comment