On Facebook recently, I viewed an incredible photograph that featured Pope Francis embracing a disfigured man. Vinicio Riva suffers from an illness that has covered his body with itchy blood tumors. Last November, he was part of a group that traveled to Rome for an audience with the pope. Since he was confined to a wheel chair, the Swiss Guard ushered him and his party to the front.
When Pope Francis saw him, he embraced the poor man and kissed his head. Accustomed to stares, Vinicio was at first confused by Pope Francis’ lack of hesitation to embrace him. “He didn’t have any fear of my illness,” Vinicio said. This brief encounter transformed his life, providing him with a sense of acceptance he seldom felt.
A similar encounter takes place in today’s gospel. While the woman at the well is not physically disfigured, in the eyes of her community, she was internally “disfigured.” Her lifestyle, considered by her neighbors to be godless and sinful, made her a pariah in her community. When Jesus encountered her, He broke the normal social practice of Jewish men back then and asked her, a Samaritan, for a drink.
In the middle of their long conversation, Jesus says something that causes the woman to allow him to change her life. He knew she had been married five times before and said that she was continuing her sinful ways, living now with a man outside of marriage. This caused the woman to change her life. Jesus’ tone conveyed his concern for her. She must have felt that she was being addressed as a person, not as an object of scorn. In effect, Jesus said to her, “My dear woman, you can be better than this.” He spoke to her heart and her heart turned to Him.
You can be better than this. What stops so many people from doing so is that they tend to see sin as either mortal or superficial fluff. Unless we have committed a mortal sin, we think that we are not that bad. We don’t see the pain we are inflicting on the Body of Christ because we have only stubbed its toe; we didn’t amputate its foot.
Maybe one reason why I am not better is that I have not really tried hard to be better. Might that be the same with you? Perhaps that temper, that lack of patience, that bad language on the road pops up again and again because you are not convinced you can be better than you have been. If you are involved in serious sin, perhaps you don’t go to confession because you have given up the fight and feel you would not be able to avoid the sin in the future.
Jesus transformed the woman at the well because he was concerned about her. He wanted her to be the best person she could be. He convinced her that she could do it. And she heard His message screaming to her in her heart. She was determined to change her life and then wanted to shout out at least to her neighbors that she had met the Messiah.
By acknowledging her, speaking to her, asking for a simple drink of water, Jesus shatters the taboo that had isolated her from God and her community, lifting up her up dignity and hope. He wants to do the same for us. We know that Jesus loves us. We know that he cares for each of us and that he sees the bumps and bruises of our lives that we impose upon others and ourselves. We also know that He doesn’t condone our sins, whether they are big or small. Instead, He hurts for us. He wants us to be better. And he provides us the chance to start anew no matter what we have done or failed to do through the sacrament of reconciliation.
In the latest issue of Northwest Catholic, Archbishop Sartain reflects on those who feel that they are unworthy of God’s mercy. He wrote, “You are the very one Jesus is looking for so that he may tell you, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’”
In that same issue, I read that 3 out of 4 Catholics celebrate this sacrament less than once a year or even not all. Some shy away from the sacrament, convinced that the confessorwould think less of them. To the contrary, instead of looking down on them for what they have confessed, priests admire those who are honest and brave enough to admit their sins and seek God’s forgiveness.
Jesus’ overpowering love can give us the courage to change our lives, to be better than we are. The blood that poured from his wounds on the cross has ignited countless generations with the fire of his Love. “You can be better than this,” he says to us with a tender, compassionate voice of Love. And we can be with his grace.
This beautiful drama of a woman who was spiritually thirsty reminds us that the Lord cuts through the barriers we put up to protect our selfishness, inviting us to accept the living water of his grace. Like the woman at the well, we have to recognize that we are being offered the opportunity to deepen our relationship with God but first, we have to allow God into the totality of our lives. Seeking God’s forgiveness through this healing sacrament leads us down that path.
If you still doubt the good news of what is being offered in this sacrament, imagine Jesus saying to you, “Be not afraid. Come to me and allow me to bathe you in my love and mercy.” The Samaritan woman did and Jesus changed her life. He can do the same for you as well.