In the second act of the musical Chicago, Amos Hart sings "Mr. Cellophane Man". as he laments being invisible to the world. According to his song, being Roxie Hart's poor, uneducated, neglected husband has made him a non-person in the eyes of the Chicago Tribune and Billy Flynn, the lawyer of his wife. Get a custom essay on "Why violent video games should not be banned" Get an original essay How many of us have felt the same Invisible, insignificant and of no value to the world well felt in today's Gospel. In a time and place where women were considered the property of their husbands, with no rights or ability to provide for themselves or their children on their own, the Samaritan woman depended on the presence of a husband to care for them. It is not clear in today's Gospel why this woman had so many husbands. Perhaps she was the Black Widow of her day, having been unfortunate enough to never marry a long-lived man who did not stick to convention and found herself never marrying but instead. playing the lover of a parade of men. Once again, the story is unclear and what it means that the man she is currently with is not her husband is never fully explained. What we know is that, as a woman and as a Samaritan woman, she was among the shortest of women. low in the eyes of Israel and treated as an untouchable by members of the ancient Jewish world. This is why she was surprised when Jesus spoke to her, much less asked her to drink the water he had drawn from the well. As far as he knew, everything he touched was tainted by the Jews he encountered. And if you think she was surprised by Jesus' actions, the disciples were even more surprised to find their Rabbi talking to this non-person, in fact, they were not only surprised, but angry that Jesus would even think of wasting his time with this woman. . But he does, despite the social mores of his time, Jesus deliberately chooses to recognize this woman's humanity and honor her as the daughter of God that she is. It is no coincidence that John tells this story immediately after Jesus declares: “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, so that all who believe in him may have no parish, but have eternal life.” This beloved verse, John 3:16, is sandwiched between Jesus' first encounter with the great Pharisee Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman. For the early Christian public the message was clear. Jesus was redefining who the children of God are. Yes, the great Pharisee is perhaps the no-brainer. God's love and salvation are certainly available to him, but they are also offered freely to those we would least expect, to those born outside the lines of convention, and even to those whose lives we consider impure. In our Gospels of these first weeks of Lent, Jesus not only tells us that he has come for the whole world, but also demonstrates what he intends to experience it. I find this interesting, we live in a country where John 3:16 is often read and has become the center of graffiti art and printed on banners flown at major sporting events, and yet, as a people, we are missing the point. I make this statement thinking of a young woman named Kimberly who was a parishioner at my former parish. It just so happened that when I was called to St. Luke's, Kimberly was being treated for pulmonary hypertension at Brigham and Women's in Boston. My visit was initiated by the Senior Warden of Syracuse, who was concerned that Kimberly was being disenfranchised by the church. Disenfranchising was a diplomatic way of saying that Kimberly had felt expelled from the very church she grew up in, and had been an active part of as a young woman. leader. No Kimberly was not kicked out of the parish, butliterally out of the diocesan youth ministry because the young missionary of the time felt uncomfortable when she declared herself gay. The scars of rejection Kimberly encountered were so deep that at 27, she was struggling with an illness, she felt she could no longer turn to God for help. The first time I walked into Kimberly's hospital room, the greeting I received from both her and her mother was cold to say the least. When I visited the second time, they understood that I was the new rector and not just a friend of the Sr Warden, so they were a little more open but still reserved. On my third visit, I met Kimberly alone. At this point he must have realized that I wasn't going to give up easily, so hoping to scare me he declared point blank, "I'm gay, you know that!" Thank God, the Holy Spirit blessed me in that moment with a quick wit and a sharp tongue because without missing a beat I responded, "I'm straight, you know, I hope that's not a problem for you but I have to admit that I am. ". much more worried about your soul because you're a Yankees fan!” Kimberly was speechless, and after a long while of silence, she began to laugh and trust that I was safe and that the church could be her home again. Kimberly and I's journey didn't end there, with my arrival at St. Luke's she became active in the choir and met with me regularly for spiritual direction. As the trust between Kimberly and I grew, Kimberly began to challenge me in terms of my stance on gay rights issues. In my office we talked about my position on sexuality issues, my support for same-sex marriage, she had no doubts about this. What bothered her was that I remained neutral in public. When questioned on this topic my answer was simple, the issues of sexuality were divisive and if I, as rector, had taken one side over the other I feared dividing the parish, a parish already grappling with the recent consecration of Gene Robinson. Kimberly was never happy with this answer. She constantly challenged me to tell the truth to the congregation and be the advocate she thought I should be. It was not until the morning of Kimberly's funeral, as a gift to her memory, that I openly discussed from the pulpit what she had asked me to discuss for so long. Using the story of the woman at the well as my text, I shared Kimberly's struggle with me and with the church and with the countless gay teenagers I had met along the way, who shared similar stories of rejection from their parents and churches who they frequented. where I grew up. I then challenged the congregation to honor Kimberly's memory by allowing St. Luke's to become a place of advocacy and support for the LGBTQ community. Several years later Kimberly's lament came back to me. While reading Dr. Martin Luther King's Letter from Birmingham Jail, I came across this passage. “First I must confess that in recent years I have been severely disappointed by white moderates. I have almost come to the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great obstacle in the path to freedom is not the white city councilman or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice; those who prefer a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically feels he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by the myth of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait a “season longer..