What Would Jesus Tell You at the Well?

by Sarah-Leah Pimentel · August 17, 2015

What would Jesus say to us if we were the Samaritan woman? We witness her transformation from a bitter, hard woman to the confident woman who breathlessly runs back to town and calls the people to come and meet Jesus. “The water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

In August, Women’s Month, we celebrate women like Lilian Ngoyi and Helen Joseph who in their famous march in Pretoria on August 9, 1956 drew attention to the hidden plight of women’s struggles and the injustice of the pass system under apartheid. Nearly 60 years later, however, we remain silent as women still face all forms of injustice.

Their struggles to run households single-handedly on meagre resources remain largely invisible. Equally ignored is the endemic violence that occurs within our homes and communities, such as physical and emotional abuse, rape and other forms of exploitation.

Even more shocking is that women have been so derided that they accept this ill-treatment as part of normal everyday life. As a result of this silent violence, we have ended up hiding deep within ourselves, surpassing the beauty of our souls.

Many female readers may relate to the story of the Samaritan woman – a pariah rejected for being on the wrong sides of the social and religious tracks – who meets Jesus at the well (John 4:4-26). He reveals the hidden parts of her soul, allowing her to encounter her innermost beauty. We witness her transformation from a bitter, hard woman to the confident woman who breathlessly runs back to town and calls the people to come and meet Jesus.

What would Jesus say to us if we were the Samaritan woman? Would we still accept this mistreatment or would we instead be moved to stand up and work towards the end of all forms of abuse against women?

What Happened at the Well: A Meditation

In the distance you see a man sitting at Jacob’s Well. For a moment you hesitate. You don’t really want to speak with anyone. You are tired – a lifetime of toil, disappointment and bitterness have weighed you down, like the jar on your head. Yet, a hopeful curiosity attracts you almost unwillingly towards the man at the well.

As you walk, you feel the midday sun beating mercilessly upon you. You deliberately chose this time of day to fill your jar, avoiding the gossip-mongers who piously judge your choices in whispers on street corners. They think they know you. They mock your failed relationships.

But they don’t know the ache of deep loneliness inside you. Each time a relationship died, a piece of you died too. Each time it became harder to love, harder to give yourself entirely. Over the years, you built a stone wall around your heart, keeping others out, unable to respond in loving gentleness to the need around you.

He Knows You

Arriving at the well, the man sitting in the coolness of a small shade asks you for water and then starts talking about living water, water of eternal life, never being thirsty again. He sounds a crazy except he picks up your thoughts where you’d left them. Almost as if he were inside your head.

He begins to speak: “You began just going through the motions of your life – in your daily chores, in your relationships and in your friendships. Even your worship became simply another routine where you gave your time but not your soul.

As time wore on, even these perfunctory actions became too tiring and you began to shrink away from human contact. Your depleted soul made it difficult to commit even to your most intimate relationships. Already broken and afflicted by a deep loneliness you no longer know how to fill, you satisfy yourself with cheap, transitory pleasures, but each time they leave you emptier than before.

In your deep pain, every mocking voice, every untrue rumour became like a hand that strikes you down, leaving its marks not on your body, but in your soul.

You withdrew, imprisoned by the cold steel casing of your disillusions, each shattered dream and unfulfilled promise. You no longer came to draw water, shying away from the company of others. You began to see only their own disillusions mocking yours.

This is why you have come here in the heat of the day, looking for water. It will satisfy you only momentarily. When you saw me today, you nearly turned back. But a small glimmer of hope deep in your soul brought you here.

I Have Suffered With You

Do not be afraid. I see what you have suffered and I weep with you. Look into my eyes and see that I have suffered too. I have borne the faults of all the people. Like you, I have been stripped of my dignity, hanging naked from that Cross. My body has been broken by the blows of men. My side has been pierced by infidelity. I’ve come to take away your pain.

I have the water of eternal life. Allow yourself to believe again. I sense your distrust and I take the blow of your cynicism.

You mockingly ask me if I am the Messiah. Yes. I am he. I am the Promised One.

I know who I am and who I was begotten to be. I am Love. I am the Son of the loving Father. Know who you are. You are our Father’s daughter. He created you in joy and he delights in you every time you allow your spirit to be free. He knew you in the deepest intimacy of your soul before you were formed in your mother’s womb.

You are royalty, daughter of the King. Re-conquer your dignity. Do not be ashamed of who you are. Do not allow others to pour shame upon you. You are woman. You are the life bearer. You are the life giver. You were not made for death, but for life. Drink from the well of eternal love and restore all that has been broken. That is your gift.

Go, live your life. Truly live it. Only this time, take me with you. Take me to others. Take me into your relationships. Take me into your work. Take me into the depths of despair around you. Take the broken women of your world and allow my touch to heal them too.

Drink. Believe. Live. Eternally.