It was an average hot day in Samaria. Whether it was 95 or 105 it did not matter. It was hot and dry, and that’s all that mattered. It had not rained in a while and the reddish dust filled the air and the traveler’s mouth as it flew past the road with every gust of the warm wind. After having walked for six hours or so the little company finally reached the town where they had decided to buy food. Sometimes they were able to bring a snack or two, but this time they had no more than a few dates. And dates, being a commodity had to be left for later. So, motivated by their hunger, they past by the old well and determined to do the shopping as quickly as they could. One of them, I think it was Thaddeus, mentioned that it would be nice to be able to drink from the blessed water, but before he could even finish saying it, Peter interrupted saying coarsely: “don’t even think about it.” Even though it was the well Jacob had dug, it was still in Samaria. Besides, they had no way of bringing the water up from the depths so it was better not even to think about the what if. A few of them stopped by and even looked down the shaft. Peter and John did not even glance once at it but kept going right past it. They did not want to linger anywhere in the vicinity of the town. They wanted the food, but they did not really want the experience of doing business with the people from there.
Almost unperceived, Jesus had been slowing down his pace, and as they reached the well he simply sat on a dusty rock and murmured: “you guys go on and buy whatever you want, I’ll wait for you right here.” Thomas, who had been peaking down the hole, heard him clearly, and so did Judas who was waiting nearby. But most of the others were already too far ahead to understand what Jesus had said. John and Peter did not even hear him since they were too far out leading the pack. But as Thomas hesitated to know what to do, Jesus again spoke: “go on, I’ll be all right, I’m a big boy, I know how to take care of myself,” and somehow the dry humor was enough to convince the ones who were still by the well. Thomas chuckled and simply said: “all right, make sure you behave then” and turned to follow the group, smiling and laughing as he went.
Jesus wanted to go into town with them. He was starving. After all he had not gotten a big breakfast that morning. But he was hungrier for sharing the gospel than he was for eating some food. For many hours now he had not been able to talk to anyone about His mission and to bring someone new the hope that He carried within. And this made him hungry… for service. He did not necessarily know who it was that he needed to meet but something told him that he had a date with someone at the well and he was not about to miss it. Jesus always shows up for his dates, whether they be with enemies or friends. And so it was that following the little small voice inside, he made it a point to stay at the well.
It was an interesting place for a date. An ancient underground stream dug up many years ago by the ancestors of the promise. The site itself had not changed much since the time the patriarchs had dug the well. Oh, there were a few more rocks around it, a few more bricks from different eras, testament to the different generations that had wanted to develop the site a bit more. But the effort had never been very successful or very organized for that matter. There were a few attempts at a column and a couple of walls tall enough to provide a bit of shade and maybe a somewhat comfortable place to sit. Of course there were some troughs of different styles and times meant to serve the animals that came through the busy road. But other than that, there was not much there. Jesus sat about 8 feet from the actual well, in the sun.
At around 1 pm, a middle-aged woman came to get some water for her and her family. She had noticed Jesus was a Jew, and although it was not something she saw every day, it was not altogether uncommon to see a Jew sitting by the well. But she always avoided them. She had learned early on in her life that they did not offer her anything she needed and even if they had something she needed they would never share it with her. She knew exactly what a Jewish man thought when he saw her because she had been married to one. He had reluctantly married her as her closest relative after her first husband had died only to divorce her after two years of toil and psychological abuse. Truth be told, he was only half Jew, but that did not matter to her. In no uncertain terms he had made sure she knew that she was not worth being married to. That was the last time she had ever even spoken to a Jewish man. But she had not had better luck with Samaritans either, she had been married to two of them. The first one was a joke, a disaster both financially and emotionally for her and her family. He was the kind of person that sort of justified the racial jokes that Jews made about Samaritans. One day he left and never came back. After being single and shamed for five years, her family arranged a marriage with another man, this time a rich Samaritan. But he was much older than her and had had a couple of other wives by the time she got married to him. Yes, she had two sons with him, but that did not help the situation any. He too filed for divorce, to the shame of her family. Because of his financial situation, both sons stayed with the father. She only got to see them once after the divorce many years later, but that was partly her fault too, because after that divorce she was so jaded and frustrated that she could not bear the shame. She decided to take things in her own hands and basically seduced the first man that paid attention to her into marrying her. It was a bad relationship but at least she thought she could stand it because she chose it.
The guy was a player and in reality she found too late that he had been the one seducing her. He used her simply to prove his wealth that he could afford one more wife. The fact that he hit her when he felt like it did not help one bit either. Lonely and broken, one night she simply escaped. She knew that could cost her. He could have had her killed. But he was too busy seducing other women to care and simply filed for the divorce a year after. Now she knew that marriage and motherhood were beyond her grasp so she went into a sort of emotional depression. Only at the request of her friends she slept with the guy that bowed to support her financially if only she would make him happy, that is, sexually happy. It was a sorry arrangement but one that she could not escape. She needed the financial stability. And even though it was a shameful relationship, her family felt it was better if she did not stay with them so they were somewhat satisfied. Actually she was starting to become comfortable with the arrangement. He actually respected her and did not mind having her around his household because she was one of the few women in his family who did not speak up or nag everyone around them. So she did not complain. At least she had a place to lay down and a man to love, at least when he asked for her, and lately it was more often than not.
But as you can imagine, she was not necessarily the most popular friend to be around. People avoided her on the streets so they would not have to fake caring about her. Some actually hated her, while others just felt sorry for her. It had gotten so bad that she did not even want to make friends with any other women any more. She was annoyed at all their useless yapping anyways. That is why she came to get water in the hottest part of the day. She even looked out the window before going to keep track of the ones who had gone earlier, to make sure that they were all back. She was actually disappointed to find someone at the well. She would have rather drawn the water in solitude. But she had come this far and her options were not many. She decided to ignore the stranger knowing that he would ignore her anyways. She was wrong about this Jewish man though. Jesus watched her out of the corner of his eye as she tied her first jar and let it down. Because the wood of the lifting mechanism was a bit old the ropes did not move very smoothly through it. She had to stop several times to help it through but she was making progress. For a woman of her age who had gone through so much turmoil in her life she was pretty strong and confident. Lifting up her gown a bit she put a foot on a solid rock. Her feet were still as cute as when she was younger. Her arms, always useful and practical, had a good grip on the rope. Her veil started falling as she pulled, showing strands of her dark heavy hair. The wind caught some of it, making her look attractive like only wind can do with long hair. Waiting until she almost had the water all the way up, Jesus spoke first.
“Could you give me some water please?”
His voice caught her by surprise. She stopped to actually look at him for the first time. He was looking down at the ground, with a bit of a smile. She did not know what to make of it. He looked like a normal Jew, except that he had just addressed her, and kindly too. His request seemed sincere, but she was not ready to let him go so easily like that. She was curious, and thought this was a chance to teach a Jewish boy a few things. After recovering her strong grip on the rope, she responded with a slightly condemning tone, as she pulled the jar on top of the rock, sighing:
“And what makes YOU, a Jewish man, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for some water…?” After two seconds she continued, as she filled up her first household jar: “are you that desperate?”
Jesus kind of chuckled as he pushed himself off of the broken wall he had been leaning against. Then, taking a few steps towards her, he said matter of factly: “If only you knew who just asked you for help, you would be the one desperately asking him, and he would gladly give you some of his water of life.”
“Aha, is that so?” she responded as she threw the empty jar again unto the well. She did not care so much that she was talking to a man or a Jew as much as she cared about winning an argument. “And how are you going to do that? With your own hands?” Her stubbornness and wittiness made her more attractive as her veil fell down completely while starting to pull the second jar-full out. She continued before Jesus could say anything else:
“You see, this well is a deep well, dug out by Jacob himself.” She grew bolder and prouder as she spoke. “He drank from it himself and gave to all his household to drink, including his livestock. If I may ask you, where else would you get this water of life you are talking about, you are not claiming to be stronger and smarter than Jacob himself, are you?” Her tone had a mixture of bitterness and mockery, but not malice. She looked at Jesus, her green tinted dark eyes bearing down on Jesus’ gentle face. She smiled, thinking she had won the argument for sure.
Jesus saw this as the opportunity He was waiting for. Stepping close to her and putting His hand on top of hers on the rope, He looked at her and said: “The water in this well is good water, but no matter how much you drink from it you will always be thirsty again. The water I am talking about that only I can give you will satisfy your deepest thirst, and it will create in you a spring of life giving water, for ever. You will never thirst again like you are thirsting today…”
She pulled her hand from underneath his and grabbed the rope at another spot. That kind of gentle touch she had never encountered. It was not sexual, it was not flirty, it was not abusive. It was simply caring and gentle, but also manly and strong. But she was not willing to experience that. He was a Jew and a stranger. All she wanted to do was to win the argument and get out of there. She interrupted Jesus:
“Well then, why not share the love and give me some of this water you are talking about so I don’t have to keep coming to this well?” By the time she finished the question her second jar was to the top. She started pulling it up over the rocks when Jesus, taking two steps back, surprised her again:
“Very well, I shall, but first I would like to speak with your husband. Can you go call him?”
For the first time she realized this guy she was talking to was serious. She looked at him seriously, half embarrassed, half mad at him for bringing the subject up. This time Jesus looked directly at her, with his deep brown eyes outlined by that gentle line of his eyebrows. His bushy beard looked like it had not been taken care of really well, but it still looked sort of attractive. He looked at her with a caring but serious face, as a mentor looks at his friends when he is trying to challenge them to make a better choice.
After three or five seconds of looking at each other, when she was starting to warm up to his eyes, she could not bear it any more. She looked away into the jar resting on the rocks. Her left hand was still on the rim, with one of her fingers caressing it. “I am not married” she finally admitted to him. But she felt it would be better to add something else so continued by saying “at the moment,” thinking that would make it sound better, not realizing that it made her case even worst. But it didn’t matter. Jesus knew it all already. He had known everything ever since the first time he saw her walking toward the well. After she finished speaking, she looked up again to see what Jesus’ reaction would be. He was still looking at her the same way, but this time more intensely loving. He said:
“I know… you have been married to 5 men already in your life, none of which have worked out very well for you. But for the past year you’ve been with another man who is not yet your husband and might never be. He sort of loves you, and you are starting to be satisfied with the arrangement. Thank you for being honest with me.”
As he spoke, she started tearing up. It was as if her life had just been unfolded before her by a loving stranger. Who was this guy? He did not act like a Jew yet he was. He did not seem to be rich or care about material things. He did not care too much about unnecessary cultural boundaries. He seemed to break them all.
Looking down again, this time towards the floor, she murmured in a soft voice void of the mocking tone she had shown before:
“I see you are some kind of prophet, knowing all the embarrassing details of my past…”
Jesus pressed his lips together and scratched underneath his chin like he often did. Then she thought of God. She had never met a prophet before, she only heard about them doing incredible things. She always dreamed of meeting one someday and asking them questions. She actually cared about God and had done so all her life. She just thought that God did not care about her because she was a woman, and because she was an unsuccessful woman, a looser in a way. It seemed to her that God would never waste His time on someone like her. But her preconceived ideas of God were melting as she looked at Jesus. She considered her options quickly, as a gust of wind put some of her hair in her face, shielding her subdued tears. Should she just go away without saying anything else? He was standing there waiting for her to open up more, but why should she do that? What could this prophet give her anyways? He was a Jew, of course he was going to talk about how mighty his race was and how terrible hers was. Maybe that is what she should confront him with. Maybe he can explain those things she never understood about their differences. At any rate, she needed to change the subject, she did not like the feeling of being read like an open book, even if the stranger was gentle and kind.
“Maybe you can explain to me something.” She said. “You know our ancestors worshiped on this very mountain. But your own people claim that God can only be worshipped in Jerusalem. Does that make any sense to you?”
After she finished speaking she started pouring some water into a small container she had brought along. She figured she might as well give him the water he had asked for so kindly. After all, she never agreed with the way Jews and Samaritans treated each other.
Jesus answered, while looking at the nearby town and the mountain around it: “I tell you this: soon it will not matter where you worship God. Both Jerusalem and this mountain will be of no value. And let’s be honest, your people don’t even know the God they claim to be worshipping. At least the Jews know that God is the God of salvation and that salvation comes only through the Jews, for the Savior is to be a Jew himself. But actually, right now, as we speak, things are changing, because race and background, place and history do not matter any more. What matters to God is your heart…” she had been looking at him this whole time, feeling drawn to him, attracted to him, trying to understand him, and wishing he would not be a Jew. When he said the words “your heart,” Jesus looked at her again, but she looked at the floor. Then Jesus looked away again, noticing the cup full of water in her hand. “Your heart and your thoughts. If you are sincere or not. If you are real about your worship or not. That’s what matters. Truth and spirit, that is what matters to God, and that is what has always mattered.” Now it really sounded like Jesus was talking about something he really knew about, with authority. She looked at him again, thinking about how she was going to offer the water to him. “God is actually the Spirit Himself, and He knows your life from beginning to end. He wants worshippers who will be honest and true, and who will open their hearts completely to His power.”
“I am not sure I understand.” She said in soft tones, her voice as pretty as her. “But I know that the Savior you speak of is supposed to come soon, I bet he will be able to explain all of these things to us…” With that, she got the courage she needed and made one small step towards him, stretching her arms out with the small earthen container in her hands, offering the water he had asked for, and motioning for him to grab it and drink. Her face was peaceful now, she felt more comfortable, albeit still a bit embarrassed. She could hear the footsteps and chatter of men coming towards the well, and she wanted to hurry out of there, so she hoped he would take the water and drink it quickly. But she did not really want to leave him. His words were spoken like she had never heard anyone speak before. His respect for her was unmatched. She felt cared for even though he was a Jew and a prophet at that.
Jesus smiled with that contagious smile of his, his beard getting into a weird shape as it did every time he smiled. He took two steps and grabbed the water, but held to her hands on the cup for two seconds before pulling them back. They looked at each other. Then he drank a couple of sips enjoying every cool molecule of the precious water. He looked at her with excitement and anticipation in his eyes. He looked away for a second and then, looking intently at her again, with the cup still in his hands, starting to grin before speaking, he said to her in a way he would never say to anyone else:
“I… am the Savior, the Promised one. I will explain everything to you and your friends.” Then his smile could not be contained any longer and became a huge grin, to the point where his eyes became half their size, but retained a sparkle rarely seen in any one’s eyes. He took another sip and finished the water. Then, he handed the cup back to the speechless attractive middle age woman standing in front of him, looking at her the whole time, speaking to her spirit through his unforgettable gaze.She was astonished and was not sure what to do. The Savior of the World was in front of her, drinking from her cup. He knew her completely, and yet He loved her. No one had done that before. By this time the disciples started showing up near the well. They all looked really surprised and a bit disturbed that Jesus was talking to a Samaritan woman, obviously completely oblivious as to what was happening. She kind of looked at all of them, seeing simple Jewish men. She looked back at Jesus once again. He was still grinning and nodding gently as if to say, yes, it is true. She could not believe it. But then again, she could. It all made sense now. She remembered his words: “if you only you knew who was asking you for water…” she remembered him saying “I will give you the water of life.” All of a sudden she was the one who felt thirsty but not for water. She longed for his companionship and words. She knew she had found gold. She knew she had found the best treasure a human can find. And she knew what she had to do. For the first time she smiled back at Jesus in amazement, allowing herself to enjoy His love, His touch, His friendship. It was incredible. She looked at him for three more seconds, and then, smiling beautifully in true joy, something she had not done since she was a little kid, put her veil back on and, leaving her jars and the cup in Jesus’ hands, hurried back to town to let her own people know they didn’t have to wait for their Savior any more.