Using the words of author Jerry Bridges, here’s the deal about using your imagination as you read Scripture. Bridges closed his last book (God Took Me by the Hand: A Story of God’s Unusual Providence, NavPress 2014; Jerry passed away earlier this month) with seven “spiritual lessons” he learned over the course of his life. Two of them are: “The pursuit of holiness and godly character is neither by self-effort nor simply letting Christ ‘live His life through you’” (i.e., it’s a combination of both), and “We are dependent on the Holy Spirit to apply the life of Christ to our lives.”
We are dependent on the Holy Spirit to apply the life of Christ to our lives. How does the Holy Spirit do that? Many ways and means, but mainly through Scripture. Scripture was given to us to reveal God’s plan of salvation and to help us connect with God on a personal level, so that our faith is not wooden but fresh and vibrant like the very best of relationships. The imagination is a tool – a gift from God (I’ll go so far as to say His imprint on our lives as unique beings in all creation) – to help us open ourselves up to the inner workings of the Holy Spirit as we daily engage in reading Scripture. It is a way of saying “yes” to God…a way of listening for Him (opening up our “spiritual sails,” see part 2) with our inner ears, heart and mind.
With this thought in mind, let’s try one more “Spiritual Exercise,” a good one, I might add, for the Lenten season. John 4: 1-42. This time, try to put yourself into the story…whether you’re a man or a woman, lace on the sandals of the woman who Jesus meets at Jacob’s well, and try to encounter the conversation personally. Start by asking the Holy Spirit to help you understand what you read…to speak to you through the Holy Scriptures. Then read the story a couple of times, slowly, thoughtfully. Don’t rush, listen. Remember, these are my musings, yours may be different. That’s okay. Here goes:
- It is noon. Drawing water is a necessary drudgery. I come now in the heat of the day to avoid the rest of the women of the village who come at sunrise. I don’t think they like me.
- What are the places in my life where I am embarrassed, where I avoid interaction with others? Where I avoid interaction with God?
- A Jewish man is resting near the well, he introduces himself as Jesus. He looks hot and tired, nevertheless he engages me, asking me to draw him some water. Why is he even here, in this region, when the Jews hate us Samaritans?
- What are the noonday ‘wells’ in my life? Can I imagine Jesus approaching me there? How can someone so holy be ‘thirsty’ for my attention? How have I responded to Him in the past? How shall I respond to Him now?
- When I ask why he is here, this Jesus says the most baffling thing. If I really understood who he is, I would be asking him for a drink, of “living water” no less! What’s he talking about? He doesn’t even have a pot to draw with!
- What is water, anyway? It quenches my thirst, it refreshes and revives me, it nourishes me, and it cleanses me. It meets my physical needs, but there’s more, according to Jesus. It can also feed my soul, be a spring of peace and joy, and cleanse me inside as well as outside. Yes, I AM thirsty, very thirsty….
- I hear these words: “The water that I shall give will become a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life.” A fountain! In me? Give me some of this water! But wait…here’s the catch. Go and fetch my husband, he says. I knew it was too good to be true. I’ve been found out….
- Jesus is looking at me now with soft, kind, yet piercing eyes. He wants something. He wants me to acknowledge the truth about myself. I want to hold onto my dirty little secrets, but what He offers is tantalizing. Living water in exchange for my heavy burdens.
- “I know all about you,” Jesus replies. “You’ve had five husbands in the past, and the man you live with now is not your husband.”
- Whoa, this man is telling me about me. That’s too close for comfort! Time to back peddle! Blow smoke! Divert the conversation! “This mountain, that mountain, who can possibly know these things?” I blurt. “The Messiah is coming” (or so they say). “When he comes, he’ll clear all this up. Meantime….”<shrug>
- How do I continue to put Jesus off? With excuses? With problems? With barriers? My own words ring in my ears: “I don’t have the time; I haven’t lived my life well; my stuff’s too complicated; I don’t know how to find you in this mess.”
- “I who speak to you am he” Jesus says…the Messiah sent from God.
- I drop my water pot and run to tell the others. But how can I explain that I have found the one I have thirsted for all my life?
- The Messiah has come…to me?! Greatness has stooped down from heaven seeking me for an audience—will I brush Him off again? Or will this time be different? Jesus has proven that He knows me and understands me…will I let Him prove that He accepts me and loves me as well? Will I let Him be MY Messiah?