A friend told me she didn’t feel
comfortable sharing too much personal information with others. She related, “I
don’t want others to know how crazy I am.” That brought a smile because I could
relate—and probably so can you. Jung theorized that there is 25% of who we are
that we want others to see and know about; 50% we’d prefer to keep out of view,
and 25% of who we are is unknown to (especially) us. Though the percentages are
artificial, we can easily characterize our life as similar to an iceberg, only
part of which is visible above the water.
We want
others to know about our successes, our strengths, our knowledge, our positive
character, our good ideas, our ability to cope—all of our positives, perhaps
even a few weaknesses --if they are attractive enough. Among intimate friends,
we may share some of our hidden stuff: our guarded fears, shortcomings, mistakes,
and weaknesses. If we have a BFF, we may share some of the scarier stuff; but a
large percentage of who we think we are (and what we may have done) is still a
closely guarded secret.
We keep part
of ourselves hidden because we are convinced that no one would like our whole
person—and certainly only our mothers may love who we have become. As a result
some put a lot of energy into building personalities that are mere facades;
some try to be the person they think others want them to be or adopt attitudes
or behaviors they think will be more acceptable to others (for that very
reason, I encourage young couples to have engagements beyond six months: after
all, with proper nutrition, exercise, appropriate medications, and plenty of
sleep anyone can appear loving, sensitive, and unselfish for six months).
But, in our
honest moments, we may fear that others will somehow see through us and learn
“who we really are.” That fear keeps us isolated and disconnected and often
ashamed. Well, if you are fearful or ashamed of your “crazy 75%”, I have good
news for you (Good News, actually).
In the
fourth chapter of John, Jesus waited by a well in Samaria and had a revealing
conversation with a woman from the village of Sychar. This woman had two big
cultural problems, and one moral problem that automatically excluded any interaction
with most religious leaders: she was a woman in a male-dominated
society; she was a Samaritan which meant she was half Jewish and half something
else; and third, she had been in a string of bad and failed relationships. One
can imagine the woman’s prospects were increasingly desperate and troubling.
In addition,
women normally came to the well together in the morning—part of their social
interaction—so the fact that this person came to the well at midday alone suggests
she was isolated from local society, too. In essence she was “that woman.” She
was “that woman” who was abused and neglected by “that man” and shunned by the
women of the city and their respectable families.
However, she
was precisely the person that Jesus came to Sychar to see that day, and He knew all about her!
So the woman left her water jar and
went away into town and said to the people, “Come, see a man who told me all
that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?” They went out of the town and
were coming to him.
John 4:28-30 ESV
“Good” Jews
avoided Samaria. Jesus could have easily
avoided the whole county, but He chose instead to wait by a well for woman
–someone everyone else went to great lengths to judge and avoid. Jesus took the
time to talk with her and explain who He was; this may have been her longest
conversation with anyone in years.
I believe John
included this story in his Gospel because he related to the plight of this
woman. We don’t know much about the background of the Apostle John, but in
referring to himself in the Gospel he never used his own name, but instead used
the humble phrase, “the disciple whom Jesus loved.” Now in truth Jesus loved
all of His disciples; He loved the woman by the well; He loved the people of Israel
and Samaria (He even loves the whole world according to John 3:16). What John
meant by this phrase (according to many commentators) was his realization that
Jesus loved all (100%) of him (the good, the bad, the scary, all of him!)—and
that truth was like a lightning bolt! That realization was both great and
humbling at the same time! Perhaps John was not very impressed by his own
resume, but he was nonetheless “loved by Jesus”. And because of that, he felt accepted! No more
fears! No more facades! Jesus knew him and loved him . . . completely . . .
anyway.
So much is
written about the love of God—in the Bible, in Christian songs, and countless
books; and for those authors it is not an academic subject, but a
life-transforming experience. Murderers,
slave-traders , even lonely women and forgotten men are completely transformed
by the love of Christ.
Jesus sought
out the desperate woman in Sychar; He chose people like John to be His disciples.
Hmm. . . I wonder if there is a message there for us?
Oh, the joy and fellowship (and peace) of
those who know they are someone whom
Jesus loves!
