We are familiar with Hebrew stories of fateful meetings at wells (the encounters typically leading to marriage) from the Torahepisodes founding the marriages of Isaac and Jacob. Gospel materials also include such "well" stories which seem to reinforce the "bridegroom" metaphor. The gospel canon account of Jesus and the Samaritan woman may legitimately be counted as a token of this folkloric genre. In effect, Jesus marries the woman, or more precisely redeems her. The following variations on the theme of fateful meetings at a well, both forming core elements in my chapter entitled "Mercy," contrast a fictional episode and the story of the Samaritan woman. The fictional excerpt leads into a subplot resulting in the dissolution of a marriage; the Samaritan story results in the woman joining Jesus' group. Together, the example shows a little of how my fictional work attempts to expand on the implications of canon stories by explicitly following them to logical conclusions.
Great is the mystery of marriage! . . .
The Lord did everything in a mystery,
a baptism and a chrism and a eucharist
and a redemption and a bridal chamber.
Gospel
of Philip 64:31, 67:27-30
1 Miriam adjusted her hair as she stepped from the
doorway into the court. Covering her head and taking up the empty clay
jar which sat by the garden gate, she stepped into the road. The sun had
quickly broken the morning's mild chill, forging a warm day. Now the cool
of afternoon was setting in, and the sweet air and sharp shadows lifted
Miriam's senses as she began the short walk to the well at the center of
Cana. She thought of Ishmerai and his father and brothers cutting wood
to use as fuel for the kilns. They had been hard at work on the upper
slopes of the surrounding hills since early in the morning, collecting
deadwood and cutting the smaller trunks and branches of scrubby trees growing
along the rocky scarps and low cliffs. By now they would be bundling
wood to be loaded on asses and brought back to the houses where it would
be stacked around the ovens until used.
Gradually, listening to the sounds of the street,
Miriam lost herself in the movement and background surrounding her.
Three boys of perhaps eight or ten years age prodded two dozen goats along
the road. The animals thumped along, their capering hooves offering a counterpoint
to the rhythmic taat-taat-taat produced by the boys with their herding
sticks. Along one section of the walk, metal merchants tapped out rings
and ornaments in precious metals, the dull pinging playing down the courtyard
walls in soft echoes. An old woman in widow's weeds sat alone on a blanket
by an orchard wall, a few gourds and dried figs arranged in front of her.
Miriam felt the woman's presence and avoided her
blinking, impassive, dominating gaze. Though she did not actually
engage Miriam's eyes, the woman's stare took in every passing thing. Miriam's
discomfort and shame increased as she moved through the crone's view. She
could do nothing for this unredeemed one, she thought. Unredeemed status!
Miriam considered how dreadful it must be to live with no husband, perpetually
tied to a house without the hope of producing children, without the chance
to gain any status in life. What could be worse than to lose a husband
and, remaining childless, not have one of his kinsmen honor the marriage!
She thought again of Ishmerai; she was thankful that she was loved and
honored in a household of honest and just men.
Miriam smiled at another young woman who entered
the way with a vessel atop her head, looking toward the well. Miriam
recognized the woman, actually still only a girl, as one recently betrothed
to the son of a neighbor. In perhaps a year she would live close at hand,
and they would be able to share daily chores. They joined each other, unspeaking
as they walked briskly through the busy and crowded market alley on the
edge of the square surrounding the well. Many men were on the street.
Three other women were already drawing water when
they arrived. Each took a turn at filling her vessel, a large gourd tied
with a single heavy cord serving as a common fetching container. In three
or four draws from the shallow rock-lined pit the carrying pots of each
woman were filled. They spoke in turns, sharing small bits of news, commenting
on the preparations for Passover. As each concluded her task, she
took her jar upon her head and padded off back to her house.
When the other women had left, Miriam let the other
girl draw water first. As the girl worked, Miriam noticed a man leading
three asses approaching the well. Each of the beasts was laden with heavy
packs, and there was mud caked on the man's sandals and ankles. He was
dressed simply, like the farmers and servants of the countryside, but his
dusty appearance clearly marked him as a traveler. Miriam tried to
avoid his glance but, too late, found his eyes fixed on hers. He did not
smile, though he had a kind look. His tired eyes kept her engaged
as he tethered his animals and removed the burden from the smallest beast.
"I've come a long way and would like to drink; if
you please, I should like to draw a little water when your companion is
finished," he said, turning then to relieve the other two animals of their
packs.
"Of course you may drink," Miriam offered; "perhaps,
sir, you will allow me to draw the water for you." She wondered why
she had offered to serve a stranger. She felt uncomfortable again just
as she had when she passed the old woman.
After placing the last pack on the ground, the stranger
turned and walked slowly to seat himself beside the well. The other girl
completed her task and went on her way, giving Miriam a questioning look
as she passed her and stepped quickly off toward the market. Miriam
lowered the gourd into the well, drew out water, and poured it into a cup
the man had produced. He drank long and slow, Miriam standing by silently.
When he emptied the cup, she filled it again. She poured the balance
of the water in the gourd into her jar, and then lowered the fetching vessel
back into the well. The man drank more slowly, a few sips at a time, and
watched Miriam work. When she had filled her jar, she looked at him
again with questioning eyes. He bowed his head slowly with a slight
smile; she moved to fill the cup again with the remaining water in the
gourd.
As she filled the cup, she realized that his manner
reminded her of Jesus. She did not understand all the emotions which now
descended on her: fear, love, an eerie attraction to a stranger, and the
desire to run. She found herself speaking.
"Where are you going, sir?" Miriam asked uncomfortably.
"I'm returning to Capernaum from Caesarea," he said,
offering nothing more.
"Caesarea?" Miriam said softly, "But that is the
city of the Ki..."
"The Kittim," he whispered. Leaning forward
and pausing for a moment dramatically, leaning his elbow on his crossed
legs, he continued, "The people living around the romani have interesting
trinkets to trade. But I cannot talk about that here."
The stranger looked deeply into her eyes as if making
some important decision. Miriam again felt uncomfortable and almost wished
now that she had not encountered the man, much less spoken to him. She
felt vulnerable, having publicly helped the man within sight of the market,
its eyes probably missing nothing, its tongues possibly already working.
The man spoke again: "Tell me, woman, is there a
household of honest men here in which I might lodge for a night?"
Miriam considered leaving the man by the well but
could not bring herself to move. For a very long few moments, she looked
back into the tired eyes awaiting her answer. As if to ease her obvious
burden, the man rose and placed the packs back onto his three asses. Miriam
waited. When the stranger looked her way again, she had already taken her
jar to her head.
"Follow me," she said.
Turning her back to the man, she moved quickly through
the market and back along the road toward home. The widow still sat
by the wall, surveying all that passed. As Miriam moved past the
old woman, she heard an exclamation, a long draw of breath followed by
whispered strains of gratitude. Turning, she observed the stranger replacing
a sack into his shirt. Several small silver pieces lay before the widow,
who now bowed to a nearly prostrate position. The stranger pressed a fig
to his lips, smiling. Miriam waited while he continued along the
street, taking position next to her for the last part of the walk.
She guided him along to the home of Alphaeus son of Isaac.
5 The way back into the mountains had been arduous
for Jesus, so the brothers had made only short stages. The first night
they remained in the hills west of the fortress of Alexandrium. On
the second day, they managed with much difficult climbing to reach the
main north road and a campsite on the south face of Mount Gerizim. On the
third day, the party left early and made good progress, reaching Jacob's
well outside Sychar before noon. James and Johanan went into the city to
buy food. Jesus remained resting by the well.
As he sat by the well, he sensed the approach of
another. He glanced down the trail and saw a woman of perhaps forty making
her way slowly toward him with two large water skins and a small clay collecting
jar. She was dressed in the style of a Samaritan widow; her very
poor status was evident from the near rags shrouding her body. Though Jesus
watched her approach, she took no notice of him. Her full face was
heavily wrinkled and stiff gray hair amply mixed into the black locks visible
under her covered head. Her thick lips pouted as she concentrated on fastening
the collecting jar to a tether which lay by the well. She leaned
precariously out over the stone edge of the well, her stern eyes watching
the jar descend to the water, tilt, and sink lightly as it began to fill.
"Give me a drink," said Jesus.
The woman stood up and turned to face Jesus curiously,
her fat hands still holding the tether. He felt her study his face and
form, her eyes blank and black.
"Please give me a drink," Jesus said again.
The woman leaned back over the well and began retrieving
the filled jar, saying, "How is it that a Jew asks a woman of Samaria to
share her water?" She turned again toward Jesus and, with a blank
expression, slowly sipped some of the water from the jar. When she finished,
she smiled a self-satisfied smile, water dripping from her lips into the
dust.
Jesus studied the woman's expressions and responded,
returning a jocular smile, "If you knew the gift of the Most High One,
and who says to you `Give me a drink,' then you would ask for and receive
living water."
While he spoke, the woman poured the rest of the
water from the jar into one of her skins and began lowering the collection
vessel back into the well. As she worked, she talked over her shoulder,
teasing, "Sir, I'm afraid you have no jar or cup, and the well is deep.
Where do you find this living water? Are you greater than our father
Jacob, who gave us this well and who with his sons and flocks drank from
it?"
Jesus sat erect, his eyes sparkling, a broad smile
on his face. He placed his hands together in front of his chin and bowed
his head slightly toward the well, saying, "Everyone who drinks the water
from this well will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water
I offer will never thirst. The water I shall give becomes like a
spring gushing up for eternity."
The woman pulled her jar out of the well and poured
most of the water into the bag. Then she stepped over to Jesus and offered
him the vessel, saying now with a serious and thoughtful tone, "Sir, give
me this water so I won't thirst or have to keep coming here to draw water."
Jesus drank from the jar and, handing it back to
the woman, he tilted his head back and said, "Go, call your husband, and
come back."
The woman took the jar and began lowering it back
into the well, replying bruskly, "I have no husband."
"You are right there," Jesus said. He held
her stare as she looked back at him coldly. He continued, "In fact
you have had five husbands, and the man you have now is not your husband.
You speak the truth!"
The woman looked startled. She turned toward Jesus,
again holding the tether without drawing, her brows furrowed in thought
for a few moments. Finally, she said, "Sir, I see that you are a prophet.
Now tell me, since our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, why do you
Jews contend the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem?"
"Believe me, Woman," said Jesus, "the hour is coming
when your people will worship the Fear of Isaac neither on this mountain
nor in Jerusalem! You worship something you don't know. We
worship what we know, for salvation comes through the line of Judah.
And the hour is upon us when the true followers will worship the Shekinah
in spirit and truth. Abba seeks such truthful followers to worship him.
God comes like a mighty wind, and those who worship him must be born in
spirit and truth."
"I know the Bridegroom is coming who will proclaim
all things to us," said the woman.
"I am the one who is speaking to you," Jesus responded.
As he spoke, James and Johanan returned from the
city. They said nothing but were shocked to find Jesus speaking to such
an abject sinner. James gave the woman stony looks as she finished
drawing her water, while Johanan looked uncomfortably at the ground.
Jesus smiled genially at the woman each time she dared to look his way
under the oppressive gaze of James. The woman rushed to complete
her job and, leaving her jar by the well, quickly retreated back toward
the town, her half-filled water bags slung over her shoulder. James looked
in astonishment at the empty jar.
Johanan brought a bundle of bread and cheese to
Jesus, urging him to eat. But Jesus only smiled and said, "My food is to
see Abba's work through to completion. Doesn't one say, `Four months more,
then the harvest'? But look around and see how ripe the fields are
for the harvest. The reaper is already reaping, gathering fruit for
eternal life. Now the sower and the reaper may drink their cup of
joy!"
"But you must eat, Rabbi, to keep your strength
for the trip," interjected James.
Jesus looked compassionately at his kinsmen. He
drew a deep breath, stood, and walked to the well. Taking up the jar, he
lowered it down into the well, saying, "Here the saying `One sows and another
reaps' holds true. I sent you to reap something for which you didn't
work. Others were at work, and you have entered into their work."
He pulled the jar from the well and drank a cool
draught of water. Then he held the jar out to his brothers.
6 Mahalah arrived in Sychar and found her kinsmen
and the other men of the place in the market. She excitedly told them everything
about her encounter with the Jew at the well.
"Come meet this seer who told me everything I had
ever done!" she cried, adding, "Could he be the Anointed one?"
"She is deranged," said one of the younger
men over her protesting testimony.
One of the elders stepped forward, saying,
"This woman has no cause to shame herself further with such a wild story!
Surely something has happened at the well. Perhaps some crazy Jew has accosted
her. In any event, we should investigate."
Many of the men were convinced by the woman's sincere
pleas for them to follow. They left their servants standing and made their
way to the well. They found the Jew and his kinsmen sitting calmly on the
stones of the well, and they asked him to teach them about the living water
he had to offer. They were amazed at the wisdom he shared with them. At
length, an elder asked him how he came to open himself to the people of
Samaria.
Jesus responded, "The Kingdom of Heaven is like
two maidens who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom.
One was foolish and the other wise. The foolish one brought her lamp
without oil, while the wise one provided herself with a flask of oil. The
bridegroom was delayed until late. When he was about to arrive, the
maidens both rose and trimmed their lamps. The foolish girl's lamp
was empty, and she asked the wise one to share her oil. The wise girl said
she could not, for then neither would have sufficient light. The foolish
girl went to buy more oil, and in her absence the bridegroom came. The
maiden who was prepared went into the marriage feast, and the door was
shut. When the foolish girl arrived saying, `Lord, Lord, open to
me,' he replied, `Truly, I don't know you."
The elder invited Jesus, James, and Johanan into
the city. The three, even James, enjoyed hospitality and communion with
the people of the city for two days; and they brought many of the people
to believe in the coming Kingdom. After their stay, well rested and well
provisioned, the men resumed their trek to Magadan. As they departed, a
heavy form dressed in widow's weeds stepped out onto the trail and followed.
A short way out of town, Jesus turned and faced Mahalah.
"You will drink your cup of sorrow now, if you join
us," Jesus called to her.
"I must accept my fate," she replied, stepping along
the trail to overtake the men.
James said nothing. Mahalah tucked her chins as
she threw her shoulders back and looked calmly between the
shocked expressions of James and Johanan. Johanan
finally smiled, placing his arm around James and pulling him along the
road.
"Come on, my beloved," Johanan said softly, "there
is much for us all to learn of the coming time."
James shook his head but finally looked back at
Mahalah with an expression of acceptance.
Mahalah smiled broadly as Jesus made a sweeping
gesture toward the open road. Jesus and Mahalah stepped out together
behind the other men, her stout heavily-wrapped form dwarfing the teacher
and giving him the appearance of a spindly boy.