The Samaritan woman said to him, 'How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?' (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.)
This is John’s recounting of the Samaritan woman at the well, who Jesus meets and seeks water from. John goes on to talk about living water and multiple husbands. But like all other parts of John that are peppered with language and allusions I struggle to understand, there are nuggets I grab. Or maybe there are nuggets God illumines more than others.
This morning, I’m struck that this has been going on for centuries, hasn’t it? This sense that we are somehow inherently different than others. That we don’t share some common humanity. This Samaritan woman was going to the well that she claimed her ancestor Jacob had given his son Joseph. Samaritan is sometimes translated “keeper of the Torah”. This is was a woman from a faithful particular Jewish tradition. This child of God has been trained that Jews don’t ask things from Samaritans, and the author of the story parenthetically adds that Jews don’t share things in common with Samaritans.
Where does this come from? This sense that we are somehow not all connected? How do we defend and perpetrate these beliefs? As people of faith, I have no idea how it’s even possible to hold that belief. And how can there be enough hatred in the world for anyone, for any reason to kill people during worship? There’s a compelling conversation happening on Twitter (#49lives) and elsewhere about why would we humanize the sole supremacist shooter. Why should we care about his name or his story? Shouldn’t we care about the lives of the 49 who’ve died? In looking through this material, I got a chill to learn that there were 49 victims in the Orlando shooting in 2016. By now, we’ve forgotten about them.
The stories from the Christchurch victims are heartbreaking in their normalcy, in how much it could be my story of faith, family, life. I urge us all to take a moment to humanize the victims. Many moments, as it takes some time to get through 49 stories. We owe it to them. https://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=12213358
Jesus’ response to the Samaritan woman was to break down the barriers, to invite her in to God’s love.
I feel numb, with tinges of deep grief. Today, I pray, and I grieve. I pray that this hits as hard as it should. That the families and friends of the victims in New Zealand can find some comfort in the God we share.
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