Oh, it feels so good to be back here again. I would never have thought that I could feel like this here, of all places. For years being in this place has just been another reminder of how alone I am, and how much I am not like the rest of them. Now I walk here and for the first time in my life I feel whole, I feel loved. There it is, my water jug. I ran off in such a hurry the other day that I left it behind. It was the way that he spoke to me, the way he looked at me, it was like he knew all about me. It is good to be here again. This place is truly holy ground. Only God can know all about your life, and still accept whatever it there. Only God can speak about the deep dark secrets of your life and tell you about yourself in a way that does not make you feel horrible.
That man that I met here must have been a gift from God. I am pretty sure that even you don’t know me. Before my encounter with Jesus that day, I have always tried to keep to myself. When people refer to me, they still call me that woman – that Samaritan women. I am the one they all talk about - the one who has had five husbands and now lives with someone who is not my husband. I know what they say about me. That is why I come here alone every day for my water. Years from now, I imagine, people will tell the story of my meeting Jesus and they still will still not know my name. They will just talk about my life and assume that I am a bad person. People think they know my story, but they only know bits and pieces. They know that I have been married many times, but they do not know why. They know that I am living with a man to whom I am not married, but they do not know the reason. That is why I now come here alone. I used to come with the rest of the women. We would come here first thing in the morning, before the sun got hot, and draw our water for the day. It was a time to talk and laugh together. It was a time to share stories and tears, but I got tired of their snide comments, and judgmental looks. So I just started coming late, at midday. While it is the warmest time of the day, and that makes carrying the water difficult, and it is so much easier than dealing with them. I come here at noon because it is safe. At least it always was, until the other day.
I am walking down that road, my jug on my head, as I always do. That is when I see him; a man sitting on the edge of the wall by this well. From his clothes I can tell he is not from here. My heart starts to beat faster. In my mind I am saying: "Who is this man? Why is he here alone? Maybe I should turn around and come back later." But it is too late. He has already seen me. I could tell that he is a Jew. What is a Jew doing in Samaria? They usually go out of their way, a two day walk out of their way, to avoid Samaria. I was hoping that perhaps he would move away as I got to the well. This is an encounter that I was not looking forward to. Then he speaks: "Shalom". He is waiting for a response. No one is within sight, so it seems all right to answer him. "How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?" No man speaks to a lone woman by himself, in any culture that is disrespectful. But Samaritans and Jews have not spoken for any reason for generations. He says to me: "If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, 'Give me a drink', you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water." I have no idea what he is talking about. I think maybe the heat or the lack of water has confused this man, so I shift my focus to his original request for a drink. I look for a cup or bucket, but he has nothing, literally nothing - not even a sack for clothes or food. This man is alone and empty handed. Obviously he needs my help. I reach for my jug and say to him: "Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water?" He reaches out and takes hold of the jug with me and together we draw the water from the well. His hands are strong, yet gentle. As he drinks, His words are so strange. I still have no idea what he is talking about. He doesn’t even have a bucket and he is talking to me about living water. Living Water – what does that mean? Water where I will thirst no more? What does that mean? Water is not intended to quench our thirst forever- what is he talking about?
That’s when he gets into my business and tells me to go and get my husband. The fact that I have had many relationships is not my fault- They all died, and I had to continue marrying my husband’s brothers. Joshua – the youngest refuses to marry me – he wants to find a wife of his own. But I still have to live in his house. As he is talking to me, to ease my tension, I choose to use a little humour and flattery. "Sir", I say, "I see that you are a prophet." Then I decide to change the topic completely. "Our ancestors worshipped on this mountain", I tell him, "but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem." I think maybe this topic will engage is in a conversation about our different religious cultures. His response is, again, full of words and phrases that I cannot understand. He says something about the future when we will worship in spirit and truth. It is all so confusing and the sun is so hot. I just want to get my water and go home. There will never be a day when we will come out of our own small worlds to try to understand people who are not like us. But then again, this man, this Jesus is a good example of a God who loves everybody all over the world, wherever they may be. Maybe the day will come when we will be able to worship God whenever and wherever we are. But anyway, thinking I might be able to end the conversation and be on my way, I say to him, "I know that the Messiah is coming. When he comes, he will make all things clear to us." That is when he says it - a statement which opens my eyes to this stranger. "I am he, the one who is speaking to you." I stand silently before him. Looking down at the ground, I think to myself "How could he have known everything about me? Why else would I have been led to this man? Why else would I have not run away in fear if he is not who he says he is?" In that moment it is as if all of my shame, my fears and the years of self-judgement fall away.
Then, the well from within me that has been dry for so long, begins to overflow. Tears pour down my face. My broken heart cracks open. In that moment I feel, for the first time in my life, an inner peace and new sense of life bubbling forth from deep inside. This is more love and acceptance than I have ever known. I lift my head to meet his eyes. With my newfound sense of inner joy and peace, I turn and run all the way back to the village. I even forget my water jug. Out of breath, I struggle to tell everyone that I meet what has happened and I urge them, compel them, to go to the well themselves and meet this man. What makes this whole experience so extraordinary is that they listen to me. They believe me. Me, this woman whom they have shunned, who has never been called by name. They listen, and they believe. Because of that day, my hope for life has been renewed. People will still tell awful stories about me. There will be many more who will still never know my name. However, many will believe because of me. Jesus stayed for two more days, teaching and healing. We spoke together before he left and he told me that many believed because of my testimony. Me - the woman with no name. I have helped the Messiah reach a whole community.
You still don’t know me. It doesn't really matter to me but my story might matter to someone else. There are many in this world who have stories to tell that are silenced by those who would judge them because of how they look, where they live, how they speak, whom they love. As you travel through you life, encountering those who are different from you, whose stories you know only partially, walk gently and try to leave your assumptions and your judgements here at the well. In life, we all have a story to tell, we all have secrets that we don’t want others to know, we are all searching for answers, and waiting, waiting for that encounter with the messiah. Waiting for that moment when our lives will changed forever. When we can move in our lives from ignorance to enlightenment, from misunderstanding to understanding and from suffering to a hope that will sustain us. May God bring you those people and those moments in your journey of life. The man who met me here, has a living water for everyone. It is not just for those who can make to the well, but it is for all.
It is a living water that will quench even the driest thirst. You do not know my name and it is too late for you to know it now. However, it is not too late for you to know the names of those you walk beside or past every day. This place for me is now holy ground for in this place I came to know that I am loved. My hope is that someday all people will be able to walk to a well like this with hearts full of joy and love, and their thoughts blessed with the sweetness of his name. I have to leave you now, but I will leave my jug behind. May it be a reminder of all that has happened here. Let us pray…Amen.
This monologue was adapted from:Rev. Judith M. EvendenSupply Minister - Flinton-Cloyne Pastoral Charge,The United Church of CanadaBox 70, Flinton, ON K0H 1P0Phone: 613-336-2655EMail: revfcpc@sympatico.ca
