Isolation at the Well

God’s grace and peace be with all of you.
We continue this morning our time in the Gospel of John. Last week, we got to listen in on Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus, who wondered how a person could be born again. This morning, we witness Jesus at a well, a Samaritan well, a well belonging to a people rejected and outcast by the Jews. But this morning, Jesus stops at this well, the Samaritan well, the outsider well.
And at the well, he finds a woman, there at midday—alone, because everyone else draws water in the early morning. Jesus asks a drink of her—a Samaritan, a woman, an outsider among outsiders. Jesus asks her to give him a drink, beginning a conversation that will have dramatic results. And this unnamed Samaritan woman at the well proves to be one of the most remarkable characters in John’s Gospel. This woman, as we shall see, is known by Jesus and comes to know him better than his own disciples do.

But before we examine this story in the Gospel of John, let’s hear it in her own words.

This is the story of the Samaritan woman at the well. A few “Bible study” notes that will help us understand this text: First of all, we have to remember that the Samaritans were utterly reviled by the Jewish community. Although the Samaritans claim the same heritage as the Jews, being descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, yet they are considered a different and inferior people. They don’t use the same scripture as the Jewish people. They don’t worship in the same ways—in particular, they don’t worship at the Temple in Jerusalem, which is the mandated center of Jewish worship.
Jewish people in Jesus’ time don’t regard Samaritans as being part of God’s chosen people, they look down on the Samaritans, they criticize their religious beliefs and habits. From the Jewish perspective, Samaritans are outsiders. That’s why the parable of the so-called “good Samaritan” is so shocking; because Samaritans are the last people Jesus’ followers would think of as good.

Nevertheless, Jesus stops in this Samaritan community, at their well. And at the well, he finds a woman, there at midday—alone. She’s alone because everyone else in the community has drawn their water early in the morning. This woman is alone in her community, ostracized perhaps because of the details of her personal life that we hear about later in the text. She is an outsider among outsiders. And yet Jesus asks a drink of her—a Samaritan, a woman, the excluded member of an excluded community.
Even the Samaritan woman herself recognizes how inappropriate this is: “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” I am unclean, she says, in the eyes of your people and mine. No one wants to associate with me. And you’re asking me for a drink of water?

A pastor pointed out this week that the Samaritan woman at the well is a biblical example of the term we’re hearing a lot about these days: social distancing. She is staying at least 6 feet away from everyone in her community. Now, we can ask whether this is a choice she made freely, or whether she has been forced into this place of isolation because she has been ostracized by her community. Either way, the fact remains that she is isolated. She is separate from community, from family, from connections to other people.

Right now, we are being asked to isolate ourselves. We are being asked to work from home; schools are closed; social events are canceled; and houses of worship all over the country are wrestling with how to be communities of faith in the midst of a pandemic.
In times like these, isolation is actually a form of love. It is a way of caring for one another. We know that people coming together are more likely to pass along this virus. While its effects may not be very serious for most people, we have to think about the safety of the most vulnerable members of our communities.

And yet, isolation can be very difficult. We human beings are built for community. We are meant to be in relationship with one another. When we are isolated, when we don’t have colleagues or teachers or family or friends around us, that isolation can become a difficult burden to bear. For some, church community is the primary form of community in their lives. Believe me when I say that it is painful even to think about cutting people off from church community.

In the face of all this, we have the witness of the Samaritan woman at the well. She who was isolated, who was ostracized, who was rejected. She who went to the well in the middle of the day… is the one who finds Jesus. This woman, who was so thoroughly isolated, encounters Jesus, the Word of God, the light of the world, the source of living water. And as she says in that video, “You actually see me.”
To be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known. Jesus sees the Samaritan woman, actually sees her, knows her and loves her.
In the middle of their conversation, the woman gets up, leaves her water jar, and runs into the town. She’s forgotten about the water she needed to draw for herself, she’s forgotten about the water Jesus asked for, she’s left the jar behind because something so amazing has happened that she has to go and tell everyone about it.
The Samaritan woman goes to the very community that has ostracized her and starts shouting in the streets. “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done!” Come and see a man who knows me, who really knows who I am in my core. Come and see a man who knows everything about me but didn’t condemn me.
For to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known. Jesus knows the Samaritan woman. He knows about her past and her present. He knows about all those husbands and he knows why she is excluded by her own people. Jesus knows her, and he loves her. There is no blame, no judgment, no accusation. For to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known.
When she encounters Jesus, this Samaritan woman is seen and known and loved. In Jesus, there is no exclusion, there is no ostracizing, there is no isolation. To be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known. None of us is ever alone, because we are enveloped in God’s love.

In these days and weeks, we may feel isolated. We may feel the pressure of anxiety and uncertainty and loneliness. But when we are forced to collect our water at midday, when we are socially distant, when we are staying home to protect our most vulnerable neighbors, we are not alone. Jesus still comes and meets us. He sees us, sees right to the core of our fears and struggles. He knows us. He loves us. For to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known. Amen.

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