Hangry. John 4:27-42

I wonder if you know what I mean by the word ‘Hangry’? Spelt like Angry but with H in front of it – and the H stands for Hungry. Anyone who’s spent time with a pre-school child will recognise the phenomenon. Little Henry Jekyll, who’s been absolutely delightful for the past hour, suddenly turns into a miniature Master Hyde. Nothing’s right, anything you do to help is wrong, there are tears and shouting. And then you realise, it’s a while since lunch, the blood sugar’s got low. He’s Hungry and Angry. Hangry. Amazing how an apple or a cream cracker brings dear sweet little Henry back again.

The next breakthrough was when we realised that adults got Hangry too. This simple understanding has made me much easier to live with, especially on a day out or a long car journey. I don’t think I have ever come close to what Jesus describes in the reading from John 4:27-42. I have never been so busy I’ve forgotten to eat; I can’t claim ever to have been so spiritually fired up that I haven’t needed to eat. Of course we can go without food if we need to, or want to – but Jesus is describing something quite different: being nourished by doing God’s work.

It was at this point in writing the sermon that my phone buzzed and I got a message from a colleague in my Zoom meeting, asking ‘Where are you?’ I might not forget to eat but I can certainly forget a meeting!

Last week Paul preached on the first part of John Chapter 4. How Jesus stops at a well in Samaria, and asks a woman to get him some water. This is completely counter-cultural: Jews and Samaritans didn’t get on, men and women didn’t mix. She’s surprised, and initially a bit feisty. Jesus perseveres through the sarcasm and uncovers her wounded soul. She is looking for the Messiah, and the conversation culminates with Jesus saying to her ‘I who speak to you am he’.

The disciples arrive as the woman leaves. Note that she leaves her water jar behind – she has found living water, the life that bubbles up from within and satisfies us when we know Jesus. The disciples are concerned that Jesus hasn’t eaten. But he says ‘I have food to eat that you know nothing about.’ In response to their puzzlement he clarifies: ‘My food is to do the will of him who sent me.’ In other words, having the conversation with this woman, enabling her to see that he is the Messiah, is like food to Jesus. Healing her, forgiving her, bringing her living water is so energising and wonderful that Jesus doesn’t need to eat.

This is how Jesus feels about people. About this woman, about you and about me. The Hangry feeling is nothing compared to the love he feels for someone who needs him. Think about that for a moment: Jesus’ commitment to you is so great, his love towards you so strong that everything else pales into comparison. That’s amazing. It’s easy to think of Jesus’ love being quite a general sort of thing, a vague benevolence towards all humanity. But the truth is much greater. He loves you with a depth and commitment stronger than death.

Robert Murray M’Cheyne, a nineteenth century Scottish minister said: ‘If I could hear Christ praying for me in the next room, I would not fear a million enemies. Yet the distance makes no difference, he is praying for me!’ We may struggle to believe how God can know and love each of 7 billion people in the world – but that’s a failure of our imagination. God is big enough.

And the joy that Christ shares with the angels when one lost person finds the way back to God, is a joy that we can share too. It’s wonderful to see someone come to faith in Jesus. Helping that happen is a core purpose of the church on earth. We’re not here to serve ourselves, we’re here to worship God and be used by him to help his Kingdom grow.

In v.35 Jesus says ‘Do you not say ‘Four months more and then the harvest’? But look, the fields around you are ripe for harvest. The reaper is gathering fruit for eternal life.’ The world and the people in it are like a field of wheat that is now ripe for harvesting. They are ready to respond to the message.

Jesus felt that was true at the time. Is it true now? Is it still the case that someone else has done the sowing and all we are called to do is reap? Do we live in a society where there is a basic grounding in Christian faith that we can rely on?

The statistics are mixed. We don’t yet know the results of this year’s census but in 2011 half the population claimed to be Christian. A more recent survey for the humanists found that a full quarter agreed with the statement that Jesus is the Son of God. Just think what a movement for change that could be if 25% of the population were all pulling in the same direction! You might have seen the BBC report just a few days ago that 51% of 18-34 say they pray at least once a month, compared to 24% of those over 55. You might think older people are more likely to attend church – 16% of the over 55s went to a place of worship every month – but intriguingly the figure for younger people was 49%. 

That’s quite some foundation to build on! A lot of interest there, and perhaps more agreement than we might have thought. And yet when we speak with people we find there is a lot of exploring to do. We can’t take knowledge of Christianity for granted – but the research suggests there is a lot more openness than we often think.

Yet as we have seen in recent days, something can be plentiful, but there can still be an issue in finding enough people to bring it in.

In Matthew and Luke Jesus says ‘Ask the Lord of the harvest therefore to send workers into his harvest’. If we just stay with that image of the field for the moment, it’s obvious that the field doesn’t come to the reaper. The reaper of v.36 has to go into the field. For many years Anglican churches in particular have relied on an ‘attractional’ model of mission. We’ve basically said, we’re the church, we’re here, come and join us 10.30 on a Sunday morning. But if we’re the reapers we need to go into the field. We need to go where people are, build links with the community, the schools, serve and cultivate relationships.

That will help overcome one of the big issues of our time: where the church’s reputation has been damaged. This spring the diocese of Bristol held a series of conversation called Transforming Church Together. Grounded in prayer, this seeks to discern a vision and strategy for the Diocese – where God is calling us. Many of you took part in that, thank you.

There was lots of positive feedback, and challenge too. One thing that came out very clearly is that the actions of the church in the past have real consequences today. Safeguarding failures, racism, lack of action on the environment, perceptions that the church is unwelcoming and judgemental. These issues can be stumbling blocks that stop people hearing the message of the gospel. It’s important that the church speaks and acts in a way which overcomes these problems. Also, while people may have a problem with the national church, can be overcome by good relationships with genuine Christians they know.

It’s worth thinking about our own relationships. Sometimes, particularly when a church is strong, it’s easy to have all your friends and contacts within the church family. Lots of support and fellowship, but that can stop us being salt and light in the world. How can you make those contacts with people who don’t yet know Christ?

Could you build on some of your interests – join the running or gardening club? When was the last time someone in your street hosted a social for the neighbours? Start now and you can lay the foundations for next year’s Jubilee. And think about the people you’re already in contact with – work colleagues, children’s parents, newsagent, carers. Pray for them and ask for opportunities to love, serve and witness.

The reaper has to go into the field, and learn from experience. Last week I was at Highworth, where they have a lovely old churchyard. Some of it is set aside for wildlife, and as part of the ecological regime the long grass needs to be cut, or reaped, in the Autumn. So, fortified by proper coffee and chocolate brownies, the congregation went out to join a working party, led by a man with a very intimidating set of full-size scythes. It was a heavy piece of kit, a real knack to using it, but the reaping did get easier with practice. As we follow the example of Jesus and the Samaritan woman, as we share our faith, it’s good to reflect on what we’re doing, how it’s going and learn from experience.

This Samaritan woman is incredibly effective. Her testimony is quite simple, in v.29: ‘Come and see a man who told me everything I have every done. Could this be the Messiah?’ It’s a beautiful transformation. Remember, this is a woman who has had many husbands, who is hated by the other women in the village, so much so that she has to come out in the midday sun to do the heavy work of drawing water. Even John doesn’t name her. This downtrodden, broken soul speaks with a new confidence. She tells her story, she owns her past, she does not deny what she has done wrong, yet accepts that it is forgiven and she is loved. She has found healing in Christ, and lets it shine.

Telling your story is often the most powerful way to share Jesus. Facts and theories can be argued with. But a story is your own, nobody can deny your experience. If you say what faith means to you, in your own words, that can be incredibly compelling. Can I challenge you to do that? Not describe what you believe, not fit your story into a pre-existing framework, but rehearse for yourself the story of how you came to know Jesus, what he means for you today.

Note that the woman’s testimony ends on question: ‘Could this be the Messiah?’ Perhaps she’s not fully convinced herself, but she doesn’t need to understand everything to point people to Jesus.

‘Come and See’ she says, and they do. Jesus stays with them for two days, and many more believe because of his testimony. It’s God who convicts people of the truth. What we say and do matters, yet it’s the holy Spirit who changes hearts and minds. The story ends with those wonderful words in verse 42:

‘It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Saviour of the World.’ Lord, may those we know, those whom we love, those for whom we pray, one day say that for themselves. May they believe, not because of what we say, but because they have heard you and know that you are the Saviour of the World. Amen

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