Inspired by John 4:1-42
Whew! That was a long one! And we didn’t even read the whole
thing! We read enough of it though. One thing you will notice about Jesus in
the Gospel of John is that he can be a bit long-winded, and this is the first
of many examples of that. Just bear with him, he usually gets to his point
eventually. Usually. Anywho, something that John likes to do is pair stories
together. Last week we read about poor old confused Nicodemus, and it’s no
coincidence that this story of the woman at the well comes right afterward. That’s
on purpose, as almost everything else about this Gospel is. Remember, Nicodemus
was confused about being born from above, or born anew, or born again, however
you want to translate it. He just couldn’t wrap his head around how someone
could be born a second time!
And then in walks the woman at the well to show us how. And
that’s exactly what she does, she shows us what it looks like to be born again,
born anew, born from above. She plays this out for us to watch with our own
mind’s eye, all the while becoming the first evangelist. You heard that right,
she becomes the first person in the Gospel of John to have an encounter with Jesus,
and then go spread the good news of that encounter with others. And that can
only happen because she was born a second time, born from above. So let’s see how
that happens exactly. The story begins with John pointing out that Jesus was
traveling from Judea back to Galilee. And John says that he had to go through
Samaria.
Now, if you were reading this hot off the press, you would already
know that something fishy was going on here. Why? Because no self-respecting
Jew would go through Samaria! Ever! It just wasn’t done! If you look at this
route on a map, yes, it is the fastest way there but that didn’t matter. John
writes, “Jews and Samaritans didn’t associate with each other.” Well, that was
putting it mildly! Jews did not see them as part of their own people, even though,
they could trace their lineage back to Abraham. Their lineage, however, took
some, let’s say, Gentile, non-Jewish detours, and that made them unacceptable
to the Jewish community. And so, Samaritans were treated as second-class citizens
at best. At worst, they were thought of as unclean, the kind of unclean that
would make a person have to go to the temple in Jerusalem to be made clean
again after coming in contact with one of “them.”
So for John to say, Jesus had to go through Samaria didn’t
make any sense. Unless, you had just read the previous chapter where Jesus
said, “And God so loved the world…” That is going to be the litmus test for not
only this story but for the rest of this book. If Jesus was telling the truth,
that God really did love the world, then he was going to have to prove it over
and over and over, all the way to the cross. Because that was not the kind of God
that had been taught in Sabbath school. And John uses the story of the Samaritan
woman at the well, as exhibit A in proving that Jesus was indeed telling the
truth. Because being a Samaritan wasn’t the only thing this poor woman had against
her. She was a woman, and as we’ve learned from other Bible stories, women were
not thought of as equal to men, far from.
A woman in that day was entirely dependent on the males of
her world. Without a man, she would be at the mercy of so many who would either
take advantage of her, or dismiss her to the margins of society to fend for herself
for food, shelter, and the basic necessities of life. This is why there were so
many prophets who scolded God’s people for not taking care of widows and
orphans. In hindsight, I wish they’d spent a little time scolding them for their
misogyny but whatya gonna do? In fact, the misogyny was so bad that this woman,
the first evangelist, wasn’t even given a name! She’s just “woman by the well.”
Like she’s just some extra in a movie. Thankfully, the early church not only
gave her a holiday but also a name, Photini, Saint Photini. So that’s what we
will call her for the rest of this sermon. It’s the least we can do as we
attempt to restore her to her rightful place in our faith family.
So, Saint Photini’s got her ethnicity working against her,
her sex working against her, her religion working against her, surely that’s
enough for her to have to deal with, right? Of course not! She’s also going to
have placed upon her the weight of a questionable morality. For centuries, to
this very day in fact, the church has called her morality into question. When
Jesus points out her five husbands and the man she’s currently living with, the
church over the centuries, mostly male, have assumed that it reflected upon her
morality, sexual morality. Oh, let’s not mince words, the church has labeled
her a whore and a slut. If you don’t like those words being used in a sermon,
trust me, neither do I. But like we learned last week, if we don’t shine a
light on things that need to change, they’ll never change. Somewhere there are
pastors, maybe right now, that are preaching and teaching that Saint Photini
was a tramp, that that was her sin that was holding her back, and then looking
out at all the young women in their congregations as they preach that nonsense.
That has to stop, now.
Especially because of all the pain that this must have caused
Photini. She had either gone through five husbands due to death, or from some petty
divorce that only the man could initiate, or divorced because she was unable to
bear children. And the man who she’s currently with is probably a brother-in-law
in what was known as a levirate marriage but we can talk more about what that
was on Wednesday night. Not only that, but whatever the reason for her going through
five husbands, the community would have interpreted that as a sign of God’s
judgment upon her for something she or her ancestors had done. I’m tell’n ya,
if there was anyone that deserved a break from the darkness of life, it was
Photini.
I can’t help but wonder how she made sense of it all. What
must have been running through her head, day in and day out, as she walked to
that well in the heat of the day, carrying all that weight. “Is this it?” she
may have asked herself. “Is this all there’s gonna be to my life?” she may have
asked God. “Is there nothing more?” she may have asked from the deepest, driest
part of her heart. All of this, all of it, is behind her response to Jesus, “Why
do you, a Jewish man, ask for something to drink from me, a Samaritan woman?” In
other words, “I can’t even take care of myself in this world, and you want
something from me? I’ve got nothing to offer anyone in this world! I have nothing!
I am nothing.”
And it’s at this moment when Jesus brings up Photini’s five
husbands. And I know, at first glance it almost seems as if Jesus is kicking
her while she’s down but bear with me, that is not what he is doing, nor is he
judging her for anything, anything! He does this to show her that he knows her!
He sees her! He knows her pain, her struggle, her loneliness. He knows the
world that she has been thrown into. Because the “Word made flesh” means nothing
if he doesn’t know the weight that she has been carrying upon her head for so
many years. Because “God so loved the world” means nothing if that love doesn’t
extend to everyone, even to the least likely person in all of scripture, the
one with the most strikes against her, the one that life had dealt the worst
hand, to dearest Photini.
It is then that she realizes that something else is
happening here—that this isn’t just any water that this strange Jewish man is talking
about—that this strange Jewish man isn’t just some random guy but must be a prophet!
“No, maybe not just a prophet, but could he be? No. Yes. Could he be the one?”
It’s at this moment that Jesus confirms her suspicions. And it is at this
moment that she is reborn and is able to do something that she has longed to do
for so long—take that water jar off her head—and everything that it represents
to her—and put it down—leave it behind—and move on in the assurance that God
had not forgotten her, nor cursed her—that God knew her, all of her—that God was
with her.
She left that well a new woman, a new person, born anew,
born from above. She left that well lighter, freer, moving forward for the
first time in so long. she left that well with the discovery that there was
indeed more to life, in fact, she discovered that there was more to her than
she ever imagined. She came to that well as just some random woman that society
had left behind. She left that well as Photini, which means luminous one. Fitting,
isn’t it! Luminous one! My friends, her story is our story. We are all Photini.
We are all luminous ones! Born anew. Everyday. Born from above. Every time we
remember that God loves us. Yes, even us. With all our faults, with all our
gifts, with all our baggage, with everything that makes us who we are, God
loves us still, and includes us in God’s great family. And how else could we
respond, than the way that Saint Photini did, by going out into the world to be
the voice of Jesus that says, “Come and see!” Come and see. Blessings to you O
luminous ones! Thanks be to God. Amen.