Keating: What’s he mumbling?
Todd: Mumbling truth, truth like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold.
[laughter]
Keating: Forget them, forget them, stay with the blanket, tell me about the blanket.
Todd: You push it, stretch it, it will never be enough, you kick at it, beat it, it will never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it will just cover your face, as you wail and cry and scream.
TRUTH - what a powerful word. When it confronts many of us, we feel the pounding stare of the sweaty-toothed madman - unless you’re the Samaritan woman from this Sunday’s Gospel. Jesus looks into her past, calls her bluff of normalcy, and confronts her with the truth of the choices she had made. Some would say harshly. Now me, I love being right, and I tend to be defensive when confronted with some truth about me I don’t like. I don’t think I am alone in this reaction. I push at it, struggle with it, and allow it to cover my face as I wail and cry and scream. I want my illusion that everything is great, that I am just fine the way I am, to be maintained.
The Samaritan woman’s response is, “Sir, I can see that you are a prophet.” What sort of humility and grace does it take to recognize the gifts of the one who has just labeled her past so truthfully? It is hard to be open to truth and harder still to act on the truth in order to become better. It is so much easier to pretend that things, that I, am just fine and dandy. But this is at the heart of conversion, the core prerequisite of metanoia. The ability to humbly accept the truth of our flawed attempts and actions and be willing to change - this is the heart of Lent.
Oh God, rend my proud heart.
Let me accept and act on Truth like the Samaritan woman.
Allow me to humbly change for the better.
“Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” John 14:6






