And there came a day when Jesus and the disciples left Judaea to go to Galilee, at which time the disciples departed from Jesus to go to a town to buy groceries while Jesus continued alone; for you see the Lord had an appointment to meet with a woman, and the woman did not know that she had an appointment with the Son of God.
Jesus went to the city of Samaria, and, in those days, Jews and Samarians were not friendly one with another; but Jesus went there anyway, for Jesus was not concerned about what the Samarians thought about Him.
The Lord sat down at a well where a woman had come to fill her waterpot, and Jesus asked her for a drink of water. No doubt this situation surprised the woman, for she said, in the 4th chapter of John, "How is that thou, being a Jew, askest drink of me, which am a woman of Samaria? for the Jews have no dealings with the Samarians."
In the course of the conversation that proceeded, the woman admitted that she had no husband, to which Jesus replied: "Thou hast well said, I have no husband: For thou hast had five husbands; and he whom thou now has is not thy husband: in that saidst thou truly."
With that much information about the Samarian woman, it is easy for us, in our own pious prejudice, to paint the woman as either a tramp, a prostitute, or a woman sleeping around with men: without even knowing the truth about her whole life, which we are not told in this story.
But did it ever occur to you that maybe the woman's five husbands had died?
Did it ever occur to you that perhaps her five husbands left her in pursuit of other women or other dreams---that did not include her?
Is it possible that she had been born to a single mother, which made her mother a whore in the eyes of her community?
Perhaps, too, that her parents died when she was young and she was passed from house to house, or from family to family.
Maybe she could have been an orphan and no families wanted to take her in to their homes.
Maybe she lived some years as a homeless person, and, with no education, as well as from being single, where would she be able to get a job to support herself?
Have you ever considered the story about the girl who was never asked for a date, or who never had a boy to escort her to the prom? And how she hung out in the company of other girls, neither of whom had dates for the prom? But they went to the prom anyway, regardless of their rejections.
What about the boy who was always picked last in the sandlot baseball games? How do think he felt about always being picked last?
Were you ever a benchwarmer for a sports team and the coach would not let you in the game until the very end?
Did you ever have to drive the family four-door stationwagon on a date when other kids drove hot Mustangs and Camaros? And you didn't want others to see you in a drabmobile?
Have you ever snubbed your nose at people for the clothes they wear, or the rundown house they live in?
Did you ever reject your dad because he was an automobile mechanic when other kids' dads were sales executives and bankers?
What about your mother, who worked as a cook in restaurants while other kids' moms either stayed at home or worked in air-conditioned offices?
Rejection creates isolation: We do not want to socialize. We do not want to be near many people. We spend time alone, doing things alone. We work on personal projects that we can do alone. We do not want to talk to others, nor to be seen by others. We do not like the insults, the mumble of voices, nor the raised eyebrows. We also harbor these feelings of rejection within us, and, with seemingly no escape, we feel trapped. We want to be free, but we are not free. Internally, we hurt because we suffer the pain of rejection.
When the woman of Samaria met Jesus at the well, for the first time in her life she met a person who knew all about her pain, her sorrows, her sufferings, and her rejections. That day she met the person who understood her unfulfilled dreams, her desires to have a happy marriage with happy children, and to be accepted by others in her own lifetime and within her own community.
...and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. (Isaiah 53: 2, 3)
At the well, the woman of Samaria looked into the eyes of the One who would later suffer great pain and sorrow when the nails would be hammered in his hands and feet on a wooden cross to die for her sins.
And for the first time in her life, the Samarian woman met the person who accepted her without pious prejudice and with no conditions. For when she met and accepted Christ, she received a bonus, which is the same bonus every sinner gets at the time of salvation:
the love of God is spread abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost; God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5: 5, 8)
The journey Jesus made to Samaria that day was planned and on purpose, for He was not an accidental tourist. This is what Christ does for all of us as He did that day with the woman at the well: He comes to us, one on one and face to face. This is the evidence of His wonderful love.
Amen
Jesus went to the city of Samaria, and, in those days, Jews and Samarians were not friendly one with another; but Jesus went there anyway, for Jesus was not concerned about what the Samarians thought about Him.
The Lord sat down at a well where a woman had come to fill her waterpot, and Jesus asked her for a drink of water. No doubt this situation surprised the woman, for she said, in the 4th chapter of John, "How is that thou, being a Jew, askest drink of me, which am a woman of Samaria? for the Jews have no dealings with the Samarians."
In the course of the conversation that proceeded, the woman admitted that she had no husband, to which Jesus replied: "Thou hast well said, I have no husband: For thou hast had five husbands; and he whom thou now has is not thy husband: in that saidst thou truly."
With that much information about the Samarian woman, it is easy for us, in our own pious prejudice, to paint the woman as either a tramp, a prostitute, or a woman sleeping around with men: without even knowing the truth about her whole life, which we are not told in this story.
But did it ever occur to you that maybe the woman's five husbands had died?
Did it ever occur to you that perhaps her five husbands left her in pursuit of other women or other dreams---that did not include her?
Is it possible that she had been born to a single mother, which made her mother a whore in the eyes of her community?
Perhaps, too, that her parents died when she was young and she was passed from house to house, or from family to family.
Maybe she could have been an orphan and no families wanted to take her in to their homes.
Maybe she lived some years as a homeless person, and, with no education, as well as from being single, where would she be able to get a job to support herself?
Have you ever considered the story about the girl who was never asked for a date, or who never had a boy to escort her to the prom? And how she hung out in the company of other girls, neither of whom had dates for the prom? But they went to the prom anyway, regardless of their rejections.
What about the boy who was always picked last in the sandlot baseball games? How do think he felt about always being picked last?
Were you ever a benchwarmer for a sports team and the coach would not let you in the game until the very end?
Did you ever have to drive the family four-door stationwagon on a date when other kids drove hot Mustangs and Camaros? And you didn't want others to see you in a drabmobile?
Have you ever snubbed your nose at people for the clothes they wear, or the rundown house they live in?
Did you ever reject your dad because he was an automobile mechanic when other kids' dads were sales executives and bankers?
What about your mother, who worked as a cook in restaurants while other kids' moms either stayed at home or worked in air-conditioned offices?
Rejection creates isolation: We do not want to socialize. We do not want to be near many people. We spend time alone, doing things alone. We work on personal projects that we can do alone. We do not want to talk to others, nor to be seen by others. We do not like the insults, the mumble of voices, nor the raised eyebrows. We also harbor these feelings of rejection within us, and, with seemingly no escape, we feel trapped. We want to be free, but we are not free. Internally, we hurt because we suffer the pain of rejection.
When the woman of Samaria met Jesus at the well, for the first time in her life she met a person who knew all about her pain, her sorrows, her sufferings, and her rejections. That day she met the person who understood her unfulfilled dreams, her desires to have a happy marriage with happy children, and to be accepted by others in her own lifetime and within her own community.
...and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. (Isaiah 53: 2, 3)
At the well, the woman of Samaria looked into the eyes of the One who would later suffer great pain and sorrow when the nails would be hammered in his hands and feet on a wooden cross to die for her sins.
And for the first time in her life, the Samarian woman met the person who accepted her without pious prejudice and with no conditions. For when she met and accepted Christ, she received a bonus, which is the same bonus every sinner gets at the time of salvation:
the love of God is spread abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost; God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5: 5, 8)
The journey Jesus made to Samaria that day was planned and on purpose, for He was not an accidental tourist. This is what Christ does for all of us as He did that day with the woman at the well: He comes to us, one on one and face to face. This is the evidence of His wonderful love.
Amen
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