There came a woman of Samaria to draw water. Jesus said to her, “Give Me a drink.” For His disciples had gone away into the city to buy food. Therefore the Samaritan woman said to Him, “How is it that You, being a Jew, ask me for a drink since I am a Samaritan woman?” (For Jews have no dealings with Samaritans.) Jesus answered and said to her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, ‘Give Me a drink,’ you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living water.” She said to Him, “Sir, You have nothing to draw with and the well is deep; where then do You get that living water? You are not greater than our father Jacob, are You, who gave us the well, and drank of it himself and his sons and his cattle? Jesus answered and said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will thirst again; but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him shall never thirst; but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life.”
– John 4:7-14
You may wonder why the name Maya. I think it is a lovely name for someone who, in my opinion, turns out to be a lovely person. (In Christ, who isn’t?) As her narrative in scripture involves a well and the image of “living water,” Maya seems to be appropriate. The Hebrew word mayim means water, and the life-giving quality of water is at the heart of her transformational story.
This narrative has at its core the power of relationships. It surfaces even in the narrative’s setting, as we are told that Jesus “had to pass through Samaria” in his journey from Judea to Galilee (John 4:4). With a close study of the geography and main traveling routes of the time, we discover that Jesus was not forced to travel through Samaria, as if there were no other way to make the journey. The “had to” of Jesus’ navigation must then be a matter of the Father’s will. A divine appointment was at hand, one that immediately reminds us that broken relationships have long-lasting effects.
Jesus and his disciples make their way through the hill country on their way north. They pass near a town called Sychar, and near the town is a well associated with a plot of land that the patriarch Joseph inherited from his father Jacob. This is a rich part of history for both Jews and Samaritans of the time. The travelers pass near the well, at which point Jesus apparently sends his disciples off on an errand. Jesus is aware of what is about to take place, and concludes that the conversation he is about to have will be most powerful if it takes place without the disciples around.
A Past That Will Not Let Go. The text suggests to us that Jesus was already at the well when a woman arrived (v. 6-7). What is important is the time of day. We are told that it was about noon (literally “the sixth hour”). This reveals something about the encounter that is about to take place. Knowledge of the societal norms tells us that this woman is not coming at the time of day when women usually come. It was the norm that women would do such a task in a cooler part of the day. Jesus was “wearied from his journey” (v. 6), which might mean that he was getting a little sun-baked. We are not told explicitly, but the clues of the text indicate that our central figure is an outsider in her community. What she does, she typically does alone.
When Jesus asks for a drink, Maya’s response comes as no surprise. She is well aware of the relational divide between Jews and Samaritans. It is just another element of how Maya’s life continues to be affected by relational fractures. With the picture we are given by the narrative, relational fractures are the story of her life. Of course, Jesus wants to bring healing, but to do this he needs to draw her into deeper conversation. He does this, to her intrigue, by offering Maya a drink. We know he has spiritualized the conversation, but she doesn’t immediately catch the shift. Ultimately, his offer of perpetually-satisfying water (v. 13-14) draws her interest. Maya lets down her guard and admits her desire for something satisfying.
Touching the Pain. This is when Jesus breaks through the protective shell Maya has built for her preservation. In verse 16, Jesus says, “Go get your husband and bring him here.” Maya now is faced with a choice. She could deflect and end the conversation, protecting herself from the possibility of a conversation that leaves her more emotionally scarred than she already is. Or she can take the risk and see where the conversation leads. Her response actually might have been intended more as a deflection, but this was an ordained conversation. By stating what was technically true, she may have hoped that Jesus would leave the topic alone. What she did, though, was give Jesus an open door to her heart. Jesus stepped in and prepared her for something great. To get there, though, Jesus needed to touch the point of pain. He stated what she already knew too well. Her husbands had totaled five, and she now was in a living arrangement with a man to whom she was not married.
We should take a moment to consider that we have traditionally been rather unfair in our treatment of Maya and her life. We read of five marriages and one non-marriage arrangement and quickly assess Maya as an immoral person who has been little more than a plague to her community. We would do well to admit first that we are given no details about anything in her past. Further, we would do well to remember that Maya lived in a culture where circumstances could potentially make life very difficult for a woman, including such factors as religious laws and customs. Like many people then and now, Maya probably made her share of poor decisions that affected her life. And like many people then and now, Maya likely suffered from some very unfortunate things over which she had little if any control. When Maya came to the well that day, what she brought with her were years of pain that had sorely impacted the life she could live in her community. This is what Jesus brought to the surface. But unlike many others, Jesus’ intentions were not to agitate her wounds, but to heal them.
Breaking Barriers. Still trying to keep the protective shell in place, Maya attempts (another?) deflection, this time referring to the Jewish/Samaritan teachings (v. 19-20). Jesus follows with something unexpected, pointing forward to a time when God’s people—Jews and Samaritans—will worship together. It is a Kingdom vision, one that overcomes the things that divide and creates unity. Maya understands what Jesus is saying. It is at the root of what she has already believed. She is not someone of foreign pagan religion who serves a pantheon of gods. Her heritage goes back to the same roots as Jesus’. Somehow as Jesus speaks of true worshippers gathering together in spirit and truth, her heart springs to life. She knows that he is speaking of the messianic hope of her people. What she doesn’t know is that the One who brings it together is standing right in front of her. So he tells her!
Interestingly, this is where John pauses the record of their conversation. We don’t know what else Jesus may have said to her. What we are told is that she heads back to town with an interesting message (v. 29): “Come, see a man who told me all the things that I have done; this is not the Christ, is it?” Why do I consider that an interesting message? Because of what it suggests regarding what is happening in Maya’s heart at the moment. On the surface, her words would seem oddly unnecessary. “A man who told you all the things you have done? Everyone knows the things you have done.” In her town, her reputation (deserved or not) goes before her. Why, then, would Maya be saying this? It seems logical that her statement is carrying an unspoken element, like a “part two” that is the real point of her message. Simply put, it would go like this: “He told me everything about my life, and it didn’t matter.”
Until the day she met Jesus, Maya has largely lived in a community where her past did matter. It created barriers, blocked opportunities, rendered her marginalized and limited the options she had in life. If you know what that feels like, you understand what that does to a person’s emotional health. This is where Jesus brings healing. Jesus begins by saying to a person, “Your past does not dictate your future in the Kingdom.”
Releasing the Past. It has been said that if one is interested in learning one’s ancestry, all they need to do is run for public office. Many people will be more than happy to dig up everything they can about your family and your past. We surely live in a world where the past can cling to you. If we were being completely honest, most of us would admit that there are things in our past from which we would like to detach and let them be buried. While in some legal instances that is not possible, generally speaking this is something Jesus offers that the world largely will not. Psalm 103:12 says, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us.” This is one of many attempts in scripture to depict the totality of forgiveness and renewal that are available in God. The apostle Paul says explicitly in 2 Corinthians 5:17, “Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.” When she met Jesus, she got an immediate taste of what his living water can do in our hearts.
Someone may rightly point out that the church has not been perfectly representative of this truth. Indeed, this is one of many examples of where our teaching and our practice are not in complete harmony. The reason for this is simply that the church is comprised of people who are in the process of being renewed in Christ. This is what we traditionally call sanctification. To put it another way, God is still working on us. We aren’t “there” yet. We want to get there, and are confident that by God’s grace we will get there. In the meantime, we strive to teach what the Bible teaches, even if we fall short of living into it. As the church, we can and should receive this as a good reminder. The assembly of believers really is a place where we strive together for new life in Christ. To that end, we all are people who are trying to release the past. And if we want our own past to be released, we have no ground by which to maintain a grip on someone else’s past.
I wonder what came of Maya’s life after her Jesus encounter. One day we will be blessed to hear her story directly from her lips. Like Skip, I look forward to meeting Maya in the eternal kingdom. Until then, I will take encouragement from what Jesus obviously did in her heart, knowing that Jesus continues to offer the same living water to all who desire it.
The Winding Path 