John 4:5-42
I’m not very good at small talk. I have to remind myself to
engage in some light “how about that weather” talk before asking someone about
their hopes, dreams, fears, beliefs. Because I realize I may come off a bit
strong if I jump right into “what’s your life story?” It’s not that I don’t
enjoy talking about the weather, especially this week when we finally are
starting to thaw. It’s just that I am really curious about people and I love
making connections with others. I love those moments of genuine connection
where walls come down and hearts are seen. This is one of many reasons why I
love this passage from the Gospel of John.
It’s a long one, and for folks who like to ingest Bible
passages in smaller doses, you may not have been excited to see that it goes
all the way to verse 42, but when I looked ahead at the lectionary and saw that
this was the reading for today, I audibly said “yes!” It’s my favorite passage.
Many of you have noticed the green stole I wear during what the church calls “ordinary
time” which basically means the time when it is not Lent, Advent, Pentecost,
Epiphany or other big days. The stole is custom made and was an ordination gift
from my friends and family. The artist who made it incorporates meaningful
symbols from my life, and next time I wear it, you will see her- the figure
next to the well … the woman at the well. She has been my favorite for a long
time now and so she has accompanied me on my ministry journey on my stole and
in the way I understand Jesus.
She is bold, courageous, open-hearted and not really good
at small talk and polite conversation. The first thing she says to Jesus is a
challenge. He tells her to give him a drink and she questions him saying “How
is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” There is no “hi,
how are you?” or “boy what a hot day today” she goes straight to the question.
And her question isn’t just a simple question about one person asking another
for a drink. It is about historical divisions between two groups of people,
religious differences and social norms. So right from the beginning, we know
this isn’t going to be any ordinary conversation. Just as the bucket stretches
deep into the well until it reaches the water, this passage takes us into a
deep dive about: differences, judgment, gender, history, God and the meaning of
life. Which I am pretty sure is outside what one might consider light-hearted
small talk.
I really began to love this passage when I began to really
read it for myself, and not just accept traditional interpretations of it. For
example, typically people present this passage as a story about a poor and
desperate condemned woman, sort of crawling through the shame of who she is to get
to this well in the hot mid-day sun. But is that really what the text says?
She engages Jesus with courage and knowledge. She
challenges him when she asks “are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave
us this well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” I think
sometimes when people talk about this passage they talk about this woman as an
outcast, as someone to be pitied, as someone who has lived what others may call
a “sinful life.” But what I encounter in this passage is someone who is
confident, and not afraid to be direct with a Jewish man talking to her alone in
the middle of the day. Samaritans and Jewish people were not supposed to get along
and had a long history of issues. And a man and a woman who were strangers
weren’t supposed to be talking to each other alone. In fact, we read that when
the disciples found him they were “astonished that he was speaking with a woman.”
The text goes on to say, “but no one said, what do you want or, why are you
speaking with her.” I wish they would have; I would love to hear Jesus explain
to the disciples why it was important for him to talk to this woman that they
were so astonished by.
I think people often pity this woman because of what we learn about her. Jesus says that she has had five husbands and that the guy she is currently with is not her husband. Because of this, she is often cast as sad or shameful or desperate. But what I find interesting is that the text doesn’t say that. Jesus describes her situation matter-of-factly and never pairs it with any judgment. And then reveals to her the truth of who he is and the nature of God.
In her book, Abuelita Faith, Kat Armas says, “Jesus doesn’t just talk to an otherwise despised woman- as many theologians have pointed out to be radical- but he assumes her agency and engages her in mutuality. Jesus welcomes the Samaritan woman’s challenge, participating with her in teologia en conjunto, the act of theologizing together in collaboration. And through their back-and-forth exchange, the mujer at the well encounters the Living Water- our sacred water who himself heals, gives life, and restores.” It’s not that Jesus is celebrating her past or that she is either, but he also isn’t letting it get in the way of having a meaningful conversation and bringing her to the living water.
This is a conversation that goes deeper than the surface.
She is fully seen by Jesus and with an open heart seeks the living water he
speaks of. Jesus tells her that he is the Messiah and invites her to “worship
in spirit and truth.” And we the reader, along with the whole community who she
will go and tell this message to, hear that God is spirit. God is a living,
moving, truth that is accessible for all, and we are called to dive deep into
the heart of God. Beyond polite prayers and tacit acknowledgement and into the
spirit of God which seeks to enfold us.
And because of the testimony of this woman, this woman who
asked questions, who opened her heart and who felt truly seen- many came to
believe. And at the end of the passage read it says “They said to the woman, it
is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for
ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the World.” They
encounter the “living water” of Christ and know that the divisions do not
matter, that Jesus has not come just for one group of people, but for the whole
world. Living waters unleashed upon the whole world from this encounter at a
well between a sassy woman and Jesus.
And our world needs these living waters. There is so much
pain and hurting and war and fear and death and destruction. It can begin to
feel like hearts have run dry, wells of hope are empty and faith is far away.
But Jesus invites us to dive deeper. To worship the God who is spirit and
truth. To find the deep well inside ourselves where the Holy Spirit dwells.
Beyond our short comings and failings, beyond our divisions and hatred, beyond
what we show on the surface.
Maybe part of why I love this passage is because I see
myself in the woman at the well. Not that I have had five husbands or plan to
and not just because I like to ask a lot of questions, but because I feel it in
my soul when she says “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be
thirsty.” I feel that longing for something deeper. Something deeper than being
distracted by social media, engaging in polite conversation, and the daily work
of being human. She wants something deeper, something life-giving, her soul is
thirsty.
And day after day I see thirsty souls. I know the statistics
about declining churches and increasing apathy, but I see that less as a
pronouncement about the increasing irrelevancy of church and more as a challenge
to spread love, spread the hope of Jesus, and be willing to encounter people as
they are. To truly see them, hear them and take the time to know them. To see
the thirsts of their souls and in our interactions to find that the Holy Spirit
is moving sometimes as a rushing river and sometimes as a gentle stream,
guiding us to the living waters of God’s love.
The woman at the well finds these waters, it fills her so
deeply that it overflows onto everyone she meets. She finds it in this man
called Jesus, the Messiah standing at her well, asking for a drink from her.
Who sees her and knows her and accepts her. Who tells her that yes there is
more, God is spirit and truth. God is a well that is deep and never runs dry.
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