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We get so easily muddled up and confused.
We use religion as a flimsy cover-up instead of a solid-brick path to true freedom.
Majoring in minors. Missing the melody for the notes, the forest for the trees, the baby... for the bath water!
In the woman’s mind, the primary question about worship is a debate! An argument about location, selectively chosen based on tradition, national identity or even personal style preference.
Which church do you go to?
Oh, I don't do THAT! I worship on a golf course every Sunday morning.
Jesus’ response to her in effect is this,
Woman, trust Me. The ‘where’ doesn’t matter. The time is coming when neither in church nor at a golf course shall you worship the Father.
This must have sounded as radical to her ears as it does to ours.
It’s like breaking open a bottle of perfume with a crack and pouring it out… out of the church and out of the golf course… spilling it over into the kitchen and the bathroom… into the bedroom and the study… across the soccer field and concert hall… school and restaurant... movie theater and art studio… conference room and courtroom….
But, Jesus does something even more radical than that… something perhaps even more drastic than unleashing God out of the church building and location debate.
He takes the foggy ambiguity out and brings a National-Geographic-quality resolution, the 20/20 vision into our act of worship.
He brings… the Father... back to our worship! Our Daddy. Our heavenly Tata! Abba! Papi…
He puts a father’s face on the face of God.
The Invisible Omnipotent, Creator Almighty Unchanging – same yesterday, today, and forever, All-wise One and Only President of Presidents and King of Kings, Eternal Spirit – GOD – wears a father’s face.
Your Daddy's and mine...
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