Wednesday, March 30 2011

John 4:11-14

"The woman said to him, 'Sir, you do not even have a bucket and the cistern is deep; where then can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us this cistern and drank from it himself with his children and his flocks?' Jesus answered and said to her, 'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again; but whoever drinks this water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'"

I wonder if at this point, the Samaritan woman was indulging a crackpot, in her mind. I wonder if she thought she had stumbled upon a Jew who had been out in the sun too long - that that was why He condescended to ask even a Samaritan woman for a drink. But - what about Him made her make the comparison to Jacob, to bring up all that history? Because for all it's easiest to imagine it as a tease or an accusation ("Who do you think you are?"), it's also the question that Jesus seems to be begging people to ask Him. To the disciples, "But who do you say that I am?"

Because it is the relevant question - perhaps the most relevant question He is asked, save for the heart of the Law question in my opinion - "Are you greater than our father Jacob?" Are you greater than all of the prophets? Are you something new and better?

Yes.

I don't know if I believe that was the real sense of her question, but I do think it is a more interesting lesson to learn than that we often focus on the superficial, the worldly, the mundane in the face of spiritual truths. By taking the Samaritan woman seriously, I think we see the deeper truth of her conversation with Jesus. After all, how many other non-apostles do we have such elaborate conversations for? For that matter - how many do we have with the apostles? Especially if you remove Peter? And clearly this story was told over and over again in the town.

It's important. It's someone asking the crucial question.

And Jesus answers. He explains that the well of the past, the water from a well precious to her people, the old way of connecting to God through lineage and ancestors, the chosen people of God - will only make her thirsty again. Will satisfy her thirst for the day, a particularly poignant reality to her who suffered so each time she goes for a drink. Who would suffer more every time she reaches for the touch of God's cloak. Who could not find enough peace with God to keep her from seeking it with a series of men, who were apparently mistakes of some kind or another.

But Jesus institutes a new kind of relationship with God - worship not on a mountain or in Jerusalem, not in a place from which she can be shamed from going, not in a place she could be wrong about finding God in. Worship in her heart (and yes, I know we're not there yet. It's probably tomorrow's verse, or Friday's. So I'll hold off a bit.

But what Jesus promises her is a relationship with God, a supply of grace, that renews itself within her. That will be her salvation, and bring her someday to God Himself. A new kind of relationship with God, one which cannot be tainted by community opinion which has poisoned her fetching of water from a well. One which cannot be shamed away from her. One that cannot be misunderstood by bickering theologians. A relationship that never leaves you thirsting.

The love of God, always with you. Something better than the well linking her to her ancestor Jacob. Something better than an ancient promise - that promise finally fulfilled.

Dear Lord, thank You for Your constant presence in my life and Your guiding hand. Please, let me always listen to You, let me always treasure my relationship with You. Be with me always.