Will you give me a drink?
It began with a question.
“Will you give me a drink?” he said to her.
She put down her heavy earthenware jar and turned to him in shock. Yes, it was midday and it certainly was hot. But she was not imagining things.
Here was a man. A Jewish man. A very tired looking Jewish man. And he was asking her for water.
She often came to the well for water at midday. It was so hot that no one else would be around. She would not have to endure the painful stares, the snide remarks, and the unkind comments muttered behind her back from the other villagers. Yet, here was this Jewish man, disturbing her solitude. She knew the Jews hated her people. She was prepared for the worst.
"You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?" she asked.
"If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”
What was he talking about? Why was he still talking to her? Maybe he was too tired to realize who she was. Her, a Samaritan woman, the most unclean! He was a Jew; didn’t he know the laws? All women were considered unclean when they had their period, but could be cleansed by the priest when the time was over. Samaritan women weren’t even given that much. They were considered to be on a perpetual period.
Unclean.
Unwanted.
24/7.
Seven days a week.
Didn’t he know?
"Sir," she told him, "you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his flocks and herds?"
He told her, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."
There was something strange indeed about this man. Surely he knew. At least he didn’t know about her past. Although she began to wonder if it mattered. He hadn’t rejected her yet. He still continued talking to her. He even asked her for water, as if she had something to offer him! But what was this living water that he talked about? It seemed much more convenient than going to the well everyday. It couldn’t hurt to ask.
"Sir, give me this water so that I won't get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water."
“Go, call your husband and come back.”
Oh no. He had said it. What could she say? How could she get around this one? She could do nothing but tell the truth. Well, maybe not the whole truth.
“I have no husband,” she told him.
"You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true."
He knew.
He knew! How could he possibly know? It wasn’t her fault though! Yes, she had been married five times, but everyone knows it’s the law that a woman can’t divorce her husband. She had been rejected or widowed five times. It was really weighing down on her. She knew she shouldn’t be living with a man who wasn’t her husband, but all she really wanted was love.
But this man was different. He was just a weary, young Jewish man, but there was definitely something different about him. He hadn’t rejected her. He hadn’t been disgusted. There was no lecture, no chastisement, no judgment. Yet he knew.
But that was enough. No more of this conversation.
"Sir," she said, "I can see that you are a prophet. Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem."
"Believe me, woman, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews. Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth."
In Spirit and in Truth. In Spirit and in Truth? What does this mean? Why does this man refuse to be sidetracked? Why is he even still talking to her? Maybe... maybe... he cares. Maybe he cares about me. Maybe I can be made clean again. Maybe I can be loved. Maybe I have something to offer. Maybe I have worth. Maybe I can have this truth that he speaks of. But this is all so confusing.
"I know that Messiah is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us,” she said.
He stared at her levelly. There was something in his eyes that saw down to the very depths of her soul, yet loved her so deeply.
"I who speak to you am he."
The earthenware jar was left by the well. She ran back to the village, stumbling over stones and trying to catch her breath, crying out to everyone, "Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Christ?”
Yes, this could be the Christ. This is the man who humbled himself before the most lowly. This is the man who broke social barriers, gender barriers, ethnic barriers, religious barriers. This is the man who was able to touch the unclean and somehow make it clean. This man was indeed the Christ.
Who knows if the man ever got his drink of water. But she certainly did.
She was asked for water, but instead received it.
Healing water.
Cleansing water.
Living water.
It began with a question.
To give credit where it's due...
The pictures were taken by me at Longwood Gardens. The retelling of the story is mine. Some of the ideas are borrowed from Brenda Salter McNeil, the Urbana missions conference folk, Abby Long, and Jesus Christ.
“Will you give me a drink?” he said to her.
She put down her heavy earthenware jar and turned to him in shock. Yes, it was midday and it certainly was hot. But she was not imagining things.
Here was a man. A Jewish man. A very tired looking Jewish man. And he was asking her for water.
She often came to the well for water at midday. It was so hot that no one else would be around. She would not have to endure the painful stares, the snide remarks, and the unkind comments muttered behind her back from the other villagers. Yet, here was this Jewish man, disturbing her solitude. She knew the Jews hated her people. She was prepared for the worst.
"You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?" she asked.
"If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”
What was he talking about? Why was he still talking to her? Maybe he was too tired to realize who she was. Her, a Samaritan woman, the most unclean! He was a Jew; didn’t he know the laws? All women were considered unclean when they had their period, but could be cleansed by the priest when the time was over. Samaritan women weren’t even given that much. They were considered to be on a perpetual period.
Unclean.
Unwanted.
24/7.
Seven days a week.
Didn’t he know?
"Sir," she told him, "you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his flocks and herds?"
He told her, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."
There was something strange indeed about this man. Surely he knew. At least he didn’t know about her past. Although she began to wonder if it mattered. He hadn’t rejected her yet. He still continued talking to her. He even asked her for water, as if she had something to offer him! But what was this living water that he talked about? It seemed much more convenient than going to the well everyday. It couldn’t hurt to ask.
"Sir, give me this water so that I won't get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water."
“Go, call your husband and come back.”
Oh no. He had said it. What could she say? How could she get around this one? She could do nothing but tell the truth. Well, maybe not the whole truth.
“I have no husband,” she told him.
"You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true."
He knew.
He knew! How could he possibly know? It wasn’t her fault though! Yes, she had been married five times, but everyone knows it’s the law that a woman can’t divorce her husband. She had been rejected or widowed five times. It was really weighing down on her. She knew she shouldn’t be living with a man who wasn’t her husband, but all she really wanted was love.
But this man was different. He was just a weary, young Jewish man, but there was definitely something different about him. He hadn’t rejected her. He hadn’t been disgusted. There was no lecture, no chastisement, no judgment. Yet he knew.
But that was enough. No more of this conversation.
"Sir," she said, "I can see that you are a prophet. Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem."
"Believe me, woman, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews. Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth."
In Spirit and in Truth. In Spirit and in Truth? What does this mean? Why does this man refuse to be sidetracked? Why is he even still talking to her? Maybe... maybe... he cares. Maybe he cares about me. Maybe I can be made clean again. Maybe I can be loved. Maybe I have something to offer. Maybe I have worth. Maybe I can have this truth that he speaks of. But this is all so confusing.
"I know that Messiah is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us,” she said.
He stared at her levelly. There was something in his eyes that saw down to the very depths of her soul, yet loved her so deeply.
"I who speak to you am he."
The earthenware jar was left by the well. She ran back to the village, stumbling over stones and trying to catch her breath, crying out to everyone, "Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Christ?”
Yes, this could be the Christ. This is the man who humbled himself before the most lowly. This is the man who broke social barriers, gender barriers, ethnic barriers, religious barriers. This is the man who was able to touch the unclean and somehow make it clean. This man was indeed the Christ.
Who knows if the man ever got his drink of water. But she certainly did.
She was asked for water, but instead received it.
Healing water.
Cleansing water.
Living water.
It began with a question.
To give credit where it's due...
The pictures were taken by me at Longwood Gardens. The retelling of the story is mine. Some of the ideas are borrowed from Brenda Salter McNeil, the Urbana missions conference folk, Abby Long, and Jesus Christ.
Just breathtaking....the story and the photos!
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