Harlequin Lens
Harlequin Lens
Does Jesus Identify With Me?
One of my most ambitious—and quickly abandoned—makeover projects involved a diamond-shaped stencil, black and white acrylic paints, and a few small paintbrushes. This tiny half-bath totally deserved a harlequin upgrade! How fun! I’d just practice on a small, inconspicuous area. How hard could it be?
Confession: My mind dreams in color, runs on jet fuel, and crescendos with a fully illuminated, grand finale of crashing cymbals, showers of balloons and confetti, and endless applause—all before measurements or plans are made. You can guess why only one square foot of the wall was painted a harlequin pattern, which was soon overrun by a boring coat of gray. It may or may not have something to do with the limitations of my reach, the height of the walls, or the inability to safely straddle the toilet with a 10 ft. ladder.
What makes me attempt such outlandish tasks? (There are others—an exhaustive list.) Do I wear rose-colored glasses? Have I watched too much HGTV? Overexposure to UV rays? Fluorescent lights? Am I deceiving my own self?
Must be time for new lenses.
Though the Samaritan woman at the well was not blind, she definitely gained new sight. John 4:9 describes her encounter with Jesus, which was an unlikely and close-to-inappropriate meeting with yet another man, a Jewish rabbi.
Through her limited lenses, this gal perceives only what’s in front of her. When this man offers her living water, the Samaritan woman sees no bucket or rope; she also points out just how deep the well is. She has no idea she’s talking to Jesus, clueless that he’s offering her a gift.
As Jesus tells her he knows she is on her fifth husband, is she deflecting his piercing gaze? Uncomfortable, aware of the inferiority, talking to a Jewish man? Maybe she’s the village harlequin, the one with excessive desires, ADD, and over-the-top expectations
How is it that Christ identifies with this woman? He knows her. He sees her failed marriages, who she is now, and how he’s about to change her future—forever.
Can you identify with her?
Sometimes I just want God to make my life less difficult. Through my distorted views, I can sometimes see Jesus as just a handyman. Tweak my selfishness; forgive my angry outburst… and please, oh please, erase the effects of my poor choices. Fix the damage I’ve caused in my great zeal for experiencing life. I am like the Samaritan woman, unable to perceive the real gift, all while keeping score of my missed opportunities, or worse, the life I think I should be living.
When my identity is defined through the lens of Jesus, I lack nothing. My view is not distorted by my glaring mistakes. I’m accepted, redeemed. I don’t fear being the outcast on account of excessive desires or ambitious projects.
The Samaritan woman finally got it!
Knowing WHO Jesus is and the gift he offers is where we find our true identity.
Reflection
Jesus already knew who the woman of Samaria was. What does he know about you?
She pointed out that the well was too deep without a rope or bucket. Do you think this woman was deflecting or making excuses? Explain.
Jesus knew the woman at the well had experienced plenty of heartbreak, despair, and rejection with many failed relationships, yet he came for her. How would you classify your relationship with Jesus? Do you talk about him—or to him? How does he identify with you?
Goals
Read the whole story of John 4:9 with a new lens. What are you focusing on? How has Jesus come to you? What gift is he offering?
Y“A person may think their own ways are right, but the Lord weighs the heart. To do what is right and just is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice”
(Proverbs 21:2-3 NIV)
Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”
(John 4:10 ESV)