The story of the woman at the well is the longest, single story outside of the Passion accounts in any of the Gospels. Hence, it is obviously an important one. Unlike the story of Nicodemus last week, the writer of John’s Gospel does not give the woman at the well a name, perhaps because the woman really symbolized the Samaritan people who, in turn, were representative of despised, outcast, and marginal people everywhere and always.
The Samaritans themselves were at least partial descendants of the ten northern tribes of Israel whose territory had been conquered by the Assyrian empire in 721 BC. In order to pacify and demoralize captured people, the Assyrians would break up their captives into small groups and scatter them in separate areas of their empire and move other captives into the territory. There was a very small remnant of the northern tribes that escaped deportation and likely a few who somehow managed to make their way back. However, being a small minority, having no leadership, and intermarrying with the other peoples the Assyrians had settled there, all contributed to a culture that retained some unmistakable Jewish roots, but was definitely a syncretism of many strands of humanity. While two centuries later the Jews of the southern kingdom were expelled and taken into exile also, they were allowed to settle in Babylon as a distinct group along with many of their leaders and were able to keep their cultural identify until about forty years later when they were able to return to their homeland. Hence, the Samaritans were looked down upon at worst with the suspicion reserved for collaborators with the enemy or at best distrusted as people who had forsaken their true heritage, and who had embraced pagan worship. As a casualty of history the Samaritans were forever condemned to a frustrating search for respectability.
The book of Kings would mention five national groups that Assyria moved into the region of northern Israel, bitterly commenting that each group worshipped their own gods and that the worship of the Lord was forsaken. Behind the confession of the woman having five husbands but faithful to none might have been this ancient Biblical condemnation.1
The story begins at noon, not the usual time women went to the town well to draw water for the day’s needs. The Gospel seems to contrast the old water in Jacob’s well, water that one needs to reach with a long rope and bucket and in dry seasons might be barely sufficient, with the new water Jesus is offering, new water that is squirting up like a geyser that is always easily accessible and dependable. Like the cup God offers in the 23rd Psalm, the cup of Jesus’ water is always abundant and overflowing.
The woman does not catch on to what Jesus means at first, but Jesus persists and does not ridicule or push her away. Despite all that the Samaritans might be accused of, (symbolized by Jesus claiming to the woman “I know everything you have ever done”) Jesus invites her and by extension all Samarians and marginalized outcasts to hear the Gospel and be reconciled and included in God’s family
The woman has a conversion experience. She drops her water jug, postpones her errand to get water, and rushes to tell others about this rabbi who so deeply touched her with God's grace, who reached out and offered hope and clarity to her life. People in the town knew that something incredible had happened to so change this poor woman. No wonder they rushed out to see Jesus.
Yes, the writer of John knew that this was an important story that needed to be told. The community in which John compiled his Gospel probably consisted of a modest number of formerly sectarian Jews, like the Essenes, who had very definite ideas of what true worship involved and who from birth had been told how bad the Samaritans were. John knew that prejudice, often based on fear of the stranger, and sectarian power struggles could turn people inward and suspicious of outsiders. He knew it was important for his community to realize that the Gospel was meant to reach outwards. For it to be shared, it had to go beyond the walls of Orthodox Judaism and traditional Jewish culture.
The story of the woman at the well has always served to remind people of faith that the church is not called to confirm either the bias or the prejudice of its society. It wasn’t so long ago that gypsies were considered as Samaritans, or Mormons treated as American Samaritans, not to mention other ethnic groups, or people of different color. Today, depending upon certain circumstances, the phrase “illegal aliens” elicits the same blanket fear and condemnation as gypsies, Mormons, and Samaritans once did.
Part of our challenge as disciples is to ask where are the Jacob’s wells of our age where we can initiate dialogue, where we can share and invite people to the living water of the Gospel. I suspect most of the wells, but not all, are outside these walls.
I try to remind the acolytes every so often, that it is important for all of us to do our best every Sunday. We never know when there is someone like the woman at the well who needs to be offered living water. Every Sunday, it is possible that in our worship together the Holy Spirit might be revealed in a new, fresh way; the spark of God’s love may ignite in someone who has been searching for a long time. It could be a visitor or a searcher who just happens to be with us for the first time, or it could be that a spark is ignited within one of us who are have been here for years. You never know exactly who is like that woman at Jacob’s well, open and yearning for the offer of truly living water.
