Lent 3 (2/24/08) “G-R-A-C-E”
Text: Romans 5.1-11, John 4.5-42
“Since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord
Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we
stand.” This grace in which we stand.
It is a marvelous phrase, isn’t it? It highlights once again for us the
wonderful center of what we believe about God: that he is a God of grace.
I know that as often as we talk about grace, still it is a concept that is
difficult for some to grasp. Yet it is so important—indeed, a case could be
made that grace is the doctrine that distinguishes Christianity from all other
religions. So we simply must
understand what it means. Perhaps this morning we could take the story in John
4 of the woman at the well, and use that story to illustrate what grace is
really all about. And to make it simpler still, I’d like to take the word
“grace” and use it as a kind of acronym, with each letter helping us to learn
something about grace.
We start with G—and with grace, we always start with “God.” Grace is always
God’s initiative toward us. God
always takes the first step. Even when we think we are seeking God, the truth
is that God actually has moved our heart to seek him. Paul puts it starkly: “While
we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” God doesn’t wait for us to reform,
he doesn’t wait for us to decide to change. God always makes the first move.
In the gospel story this morning, this is made absolutely clear. Jesus is
resting by this well, and the Samaritan woman approaches. Now she has two
strikes against her: First, she is a Samaritan. In this time, Jews and Samaritans
were mortal enemies. Jews hated Samaritans, and Samaritans hated Jews. It was
unthinkable that a Jew and a Samaritan would even speak to one another; both
would go out of their way to avoid it. Second, she is a woman, and in that
culture women are expected to be silent and to be invisible. Probably it would
have been proper for her to withdraw from this situation. There is a strange
man, a Jewish man, sitting by the well, and she really should stay away. But
the day is hot, she’s walked a long ways to get here, and she decides she will
simply quietly slip in, draw her water and leave.
But Jesus will not let her slip in quietly. He speaks to her! It is the last thing in the world she
expects, and you can tell it by her response—she feels she needs to point out
to Jesus that she is a Samaritan woman, so why is he talking to her? Such a
thing simply isn’t done!
But when grace comes into play, it always means that God initiates the relationship. God
takes the first step. God says the first word. That’s what grace means.
The second letter, “R,” stands for recognition.
Contrary to what the woman thinks, Jesus in fact recognizes here. Indeed, not
only does he know that she is a Samaritan woman, he knows a lot more than that!
He knows who she is, how she lives, what she is like. As she interprets it
later, he tells her everything she’s ever done! He recognizes her.
And that’s part of grace. There is nothing hidden from God. There is
nothing he does not know about us—indeed, he knows more about us than we know
about ourselves. He sees to the depths of our heart. I love that beautiful
prayer we so often pray together: “Almighty God, to whom all hearts are open,
all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid.” Now the grace comes in
the fact that when we come before God, we don’t need to hide anything. Being
with God is the one place where the pretensions, the fears, the anxieties about
who we are just don’t apply. He already knows it about us. So with him, we can
be who we are. He recognizes us—and
that’s a part of grace.
But the next part is even better. “A” stands for accept. God not only recognizes us, but he accepts us. You know, one of the most wonderful lines in this story
is one we almost miss if we read too quickly. Why is Jesus at this well? Because,
it says, he was “tired out by his journey.” He wanted to sit down. It was hot—noontime,
you know—and dusty, and he was weary. I don’t know about you, but when I’m in
that situation I’m not really much interested in talking to anybody about
anything. I’d rather rest. And yet Jesus, tired as he is, gets into this
extended conversation with this woman.
That has to do with his acceptance
of her. To him she is not a nuisance, not a moral problem, not an interruption.
She is the most important person in all the world to him at that moment. And
that’s how it is with God and you. He accepts
you completely, and loves you as if you were the most precious person ever made—because
to him, you are! His acceptance of
you is what grace is all about.
Then we might say that the “C” here stands for change. Sometimes people get the idea that grace means God is kind
of wishy-washy, that he doesn’t care what we do or how we are, that he simply
takes us as we are and leaves it at that. Not quite right! Grace involves change.
Now in our story, we must to some extent read that part in. We do not see
exactly what Jesus says or does to change this woman; we only see that she is changed, in her encounter with him.
She is like a new person. His recognition of her, and his acceptance of her,
has brought about correction. It has, in other words, transformed her.
In the wonderful musical Man of La
Mancha, there is a character named Aldonza. She is a woman of low repute,
scorned and ridiculed by the townspeople. But Don Quixote dubs her “Dulcinea”—“Sweet
one.” This crazy old knight loves her and treats her in a way that no one has
ever treated her. And he changes her!
His love for her changes her!
So it is with Christ. This grace that recognizes
us for who we are, and accepts us for who we are, doesn’t stop there. It changes us into what Christ wants us to
become. It changes us, and that is
grace.
Finally the “E”—God’s grace encourages
us. Watch Christ, at this well, offering the woman the waters of eternal
life. Water is often in the Scriptures of a symbol of God’s grace. When the
Israelites are in the desert, water from the rock sustains them—God’s grace! When
the prophets and the Psalmist speak of God’s grace, they often paint a picture
of a parched and weary land, suddenly blessed with rain, or with a river. It is
a wonderful image.
Orson Welles was one of the Hollywood greats, and he was a remarkable man
in many ways. Marlene Dietrich once made this telling comment about him: “When
I talk to him, I feel like a plant that’s been watered.” Isn’t that a great
comment? But it applies so much to God’s grace! When we experience God’s grace,
we feel like a plant that’s been watered. We are encouraged. It is the encouragement of love, of acceptance. It is
the gift of a spring of water, gushing up to eternal life. And that water, of course,
is Christ himself! Christ offers himself to this woman, offers a gift of living
water which will leave her never thirsty.
It is all about grace! The story this morning gives us one wonderful
picture of what grace means—but here is another! This table, spread before you. It, too, is a picture of grace. It
is God initiating a conversation with
you, as he invites you to this feast. It is Christ recognizing who you are, saying those words to you, this is my body for you,
for you. It is Christ accepting you,
welcoming you just as you are. It is Christ changing
you, transforming you into what he wants you to be. It is Christ encouraging you by feeding you himself,
the Bread of Life, and offering himself, the Cup of Salvation. It is grace. And
here, at his Table, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ,
through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand.