The Woman at the Well

This weekend, since we have an RCIA group, we had the gospel reading of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well (Jn 4). It's a great illustration of how Jesus works with us, especially the most shameful of us.

Here is this woman, alone at the village well in the middle of the day when Jesus arrived. Anyone who has studied this story knows that this in itself was unusual. The women drew their water in the morning, while it was cooler, and used the time as a social gathering. They'd share what was going on in their lives and catch up on the latest gossip. This woman's isolated water errand later in the day indicates that she was not comfortable with the other women, did not feel welcome in their presence. Perhaps she'd been ridiculed and outcast because of her past.

Even without any sort of divine insight, Jesus would have suspected she was a social misfit, but two other reasons proscribed him from speaking to her: a man would not have conversed with an unaccompanied woman, and a Jew would not condescend to speak to a Samaritan. Nonetheless, he did not let any of these social limitations bar him from the transformation which he wanted for her. Maybe her outcast status was the primary reason that he reached out to her despite her being a Samaritan woman. By his mere willingness to speak with her, he tempered his later words when he began to speak the truth of her status. When in the course of their conversation he made clear that he knew about her, she was prepared to not feel ridicule or scorn from him because he had not started off with an accusation. His discussion of her past becomes a revelation of mercy, because he has already not rejected her despite knowing the truth of which she is so ashamed.

The transformation in her is incredible. This shameful woman who'd avoided her neighbors, been hurt and shunned by them, was now driven to tell them all about the one she'd encountered. Her testimony must have been compelling, for rather than rejecting her further, they came to see for themselves, and discovered the wonderful Savior for whom they'd been longing for so long.

So it is with us. Are not the strongest testimonies to Christ's power given by those who have been delivered from the greatest darkness? St. Augustine says that the Samaritan woman is a precursor to each of us, that she has become a symbol of what happens in our own transformation. I remember, as a proud young man, coming to the conclusion that religion was for the weak. It was only when I encountered my own weakness that I came to understand that Jesus had acknowledged as much: "The well do not need a doctor; sick people do."

There is a wonderful Savior who has loved me, even to death, despite my failings. I suppose this blog is my equivalent of going and telling those around me so that they might want to know him, too.