I Forgot All About My Water Jar

(The Story of the Woman at the Well, John 4)

By E.L.( a member of my church)

It was the usual time for our noon meal, but I had delayed going to the well called Jacob’s Well, for a very good reason. I wanted to avoid meeting some of the stuck-up female neighbors who invariably gave me accusing and spiteful looks. They are jealous, I told myself. I know I’m pretty.

My ancestors were brought to this part of the country from a distant conquered land. They intermarried with others from far away places who were displaced persons here. And that’s another reason for their snobbery, too. I said I’m pretty. Men find me attractive and I like their attention.

When I arrived at the well a Jewish man sat alone nearby. He asked me for a drink of water. I thought it strange and told him so. He—a Jew and me—a Samaritan woman. I was half teasing. I gave him a drink with my most beguiling smile. But his reply had a ring of seriousness in it. “If you knew the gift of God and who is asking for a drink, you would ask him for living water.” I reminded him that he had no water jug and the well was deep, so where would he get living water? I asked, “are you greater than our father Jacob who had this well dug for himself, his sons and his cattle?” It was my way of teasing.

“When you drink this water you will be thirsty again, but the water I give will be like a spring of water, welling up to eternal life,” he said. I thought—I’ve teased him and now he is teasing me. So I said, “Give me this water so I’ll never thirst nor come here to fill my water jug.” Good break for me! No more disdainful looks from the haughty. What a turn this Jewish man gave me! My coquettishness vanished.

“Go call your husband and come here.”

“I have no husband,” I said.

“You are correct to say so. You have had five husbands and the man you are

“Sir,” I said, “you must be a prophet.” I began to speak about the differences between our cultures and where exactly one should worship.

I must tell the others in the city to come and hear for themselves. I ran back shouting, “Come and see. Can this be the Christ?”

I forgot all about my water jar!