The Importance of Listening
David C. Myers
February 24, 2008
Lent - 3rd
John 4:5 - 42
Text: "Sir," said the woman, "give me that water so I won't get thirsty
And have to keep coming here to draw water." . . . John 4:15
This week we are privileged to eavesdrop on an interesting conversation between a Samaritan woman and Jesus. It is a chance meeting of two strangers at the village well. The village well is in all likelihood the only place in the community where people could get drinking water.
Jesus talks longer to this woman than He does to anyone else in all the Gospels - longer than He talks to any of His disciples, longer than He talks to any of His accusers, longer than He talks to any of His own family. This Samaritan woman is the first person He reveals Himself to in the Gospel of John. She is the first outsider to guess Who He is and tell others. Therefore she becomes the first evangelist, and as John tells us, and her testimony brings many to faith.
Jesus' choice of this Samaritan woman is a curious one, because when I say outsider, I mean outsider. The woman at the well was a triple outsider. In the first place, she was a Samaritan, which made her a half-breed and full pagan as far as the religious purists of true Hebrew faith were concerned.
She was also, of course, a woman, the second mark of an outsider. In Jesus' time, women were not what you would call liberated. Far from it. They were not even allowed to worship with men, whose regular morning devotions included the prayer, "Thank God I am not a woman." Women had no place in public life. They were not to be seen or heard, especially by a holy man, who did not speak even to their own wives in public. One group of pious men were known as "the bruised and bleeding Pharisees" because they closed their eyes when they saw a woman coming down the street, even if it meant walking into a wall and breaking their noses.
She was a Samaritan and a woman, but that was not all. The third mark of her being an outsider was that she was a fallen woman. Respectable women made their trips to the well in cooler hours of the morning, where they could greet one another and talk about the community news. But this woman was one of the people they talked about, and the fact that she showed up at noon - the heat of the day - was a sure sign that she was not welcome at their morning social hour. As Jesus soon deduced, she had been married as many times as Elizabeth Taylor and was living in sin at the moment, which made it all around less painful for her to go to the well alone, after others had left.
What is surprising to me is how uninterested Jesus is in the details of her five former husbands and current partner. John, author of this Gospel, offers no speculation. But if it were today, Oprah would be scheduling an interview with her and her live in. And Jerry Springer would no doubt have a confrontational interview with her and her live in and her previous husbands. And if the five former husbands had died then Geraldo would have a prime time special investigating the mysterious causes of their deaths.
Jesus, on the other hand engages in no moral speculation or judgment. He rather touches that vulnerable spot in the woman to uncover her neediness, no matter the cause of her need.
What enables this change to take place? I think it is perhaps the most underestimated of the evangelistic tools - listening.
What's interesting in this story is to notice the stages of movement of the woman's faith. At first the conversation between the Samaritan woman and Jesus seems to hold no promise, the two being distanced by race, sex, and religion - huge, enormous barriers in those days. But Jesus listens, and as He does the conversation moves to a deeper level as the woman - held face to face with the reality of what she has revealed to this stranger - recognizes Jesus as a prophet (vs.19). And, as you may remember, a prophet isn't one who is liberal, but one who is supremely conservative, because a prophet is one who reminds us of what we already know and is one who holds us accountable to that which we have already known and are trying to avoid.
It is through the listening that Jesus is able to learn enough from this woman that He is able to hold a mirror before her and reveal to her who she is. He knew that she had five husbands and was now living with another man who wasn't her husband. But Jesus also knew that her problem was one far deeper than a frequent husband program, or even her adultery. He saw beyond that to realize that the Samaritan woman had evidently been on a long quest; seeking happiness, or companionship, or some fundamental element that was absent from her life. In her own fumbling quest to quench her thirst for intimacy with a person who would accept, trust, and love her, she found no lasting satisfaction.
Jesus responds to her spiritual thirst by offering her "water" that would quench her thirst - a living water. Jesus tells her, "if you drink from this, you shall never thirst again." And she cries out, "Give me that water, so I won't get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water."
It's a plaintive cry, one that might be more acutely be translated as, "Give me this water that I need so that I don't have to keep coming to this well in this dreary drudgery, day after day, to draw water in the meaningless routine of everyday existence." The ritual of daily tasks held nothing but weariness for her because she had lost any sense of meaning in her life. As one person wrote, "it is so easy to get stuck in the routine, and to watch the days pass, one blending into another."
Jesus, through the process of the conversation enabled her to see who she really was. And it is in the dialogue that listening must occur. Through His listening Jesus was able to help the Samaritan woman discover who she really was - the first step in conversion.
When we are listened to, we begin to expose ourselves. It's like looking in a mirror first thing in the morning. In the mirror we don't see who we would like to be or the person we're trying to be if our next 30 minutes are successful. Rather, when we look in the mirror, we see who we are. We see our wrinkles, our pimples, and our slept-on hair - or, in my case, my lack of slept on hair!
Jesus held the mirror before this woman and she saw that her real thirst wasn't for water, or for another husband - it wasn't what she was trying to put on. It was much deeper than all that. Jesus reminded her of what deep down she already knew; and in that sense He was called a prophet. Husband after husband, trip after trip to the well; it was all so meaningless, the fatigue wore her down, the routine no longer meant anything. Jesus' listening helped her see that her real thirst was to have life and have it abundantly. It's the process of conversion - realizing that life as we know it doesn't make sense any more.
The Samaritan woman discovers someone who listens to her long enough to help her see who she really is - and even more importantly, has listened long enough so that she comes to understand the depth of her thirst. She knows the fundamental nature of her life, and what she really needs. What better definition of grace can there be, then to be cared for enough to be listened to so that you can understand your own life? She begins to understand her dilemma, and is ready to move forward. And Jesus tells her Who He is, "I am the Messiah."
It is a moment of full disclosure, in which this triple outsider and the Messiah of God stand face to face with no pretense about who they are. Both stand fully lit at high noon for one bright moment in time, while all the rules, taboos, and history that separate them fall forgotten on the ground.
By telling the woman who she is, Jesus shows her Who He is. By confirming her true identity, He reveals His own. And that is still how it happens. The Messiah is the One in Whose presence you know who you really are - the good and bad of it, the all of it, the hope of it. The Messiah is the One Who shows you who you are by showing you Who He is. The Messiah is the One Who crosses all boundaries, breaks all rules, drops all disguises - listening enough so that you can speak to Him like someone you have known all your life. The Messiah allows things to bubble up in your life like a well that needs no dipper. And knowing the Messiah you can face people you thought you could never face again, speaking to them boldly as He spoke to you, "Come and see a man who told me everything I have done."
And the Samaritan woman is, in a very real sense, converted and thus begins to witness what has happened to her.
But before we leave this story, there needs to be a final word about the impact of her conversion and her witness to others. She may not have arrived at a full faith in Jesus as God's only begotten, but she witnessed to the extent of her faith at the time. She is a witness, but not a likely witness and certainly not a thorough witness. After all, "A man who told me all I ever did" is not exactly a recitation of the Apostle's Creed.
She is not even a convinced witness as she asks, "He cannot be the Messiah, can He?" (vs. 29) Even so, her witness is enough; it is invitational ("come and see" - vs. 29), and not judgmental; it is within the range permitted by her experience; it is honest with its own uncertainty; it is for everyone who will hear.
How refreshing! Her witness avoids packaged answers to unasked questions, thinly veiled ultimatums and threats of hell, and assumptions of certainty on theological matters. She does convey, however, her willingness to let her hearers arrive at her own faith about Jesus; and they do: "Many Samaritans from that city believed in Jesus because of the woman's testimony." (vs.39) And the point is, her word and faith - as incomplete as it was - initiated a relationship between others and Jesus, the fruit of which was a faith beyond her own. They said, "We know that this is truly the Savior of the world." (vs. 42)
There is a lesson here for all of us who yearn for the finality of our faith; those of us who still have questions before we are willing to act or commit. The Samaritan woman did not wait until her own faith was full-grown. If she had that remarkable invitational witness would never have occurred. "If only you had faith the size of a mustard seed," . . . the Samaritan's woman's incomplete, questioning faith was enough to bring forth the sure response of others that indeed, she had met "the Savior of the world."
In the Gospel stories, there are various kinds and qualities of faith. But no faith is so new, so partial, so unclear that witnessing to Christ out of that faith is inappropriate.
If all the followers of Christ throughout history had waited for their faith to be complete, our faith would have died long ago. Rather, we are challenged by the Samaritan woman to witness what we believe, knowing that our knowledge is always incomplete, and that our faith will always have more room for growth.