Monday, May 24, 2010
I was recently challenged by a friend to use some of my Facebook time to read the Bible. I have tried successfully twice now. One of the passages I have read is John 4. It tells the story of Jesus, a clean Jew, speaking to a dirty, slutty Samaritan woman. Jesus, the religious fanatic, the feminist, speaks to a woman his religion would forbid. As I read, and re-read this passage, more and more things stuck out to me. Not only was this woman a "woman", she was a woman that most people, whether Jew, Baptist, or Apiscopalian, would not speak to. She was lurking in the muck of society. She was not allowed to draw water at the same time as the other ladies. She was dirty in a people considered dirty to a Jew. Yet, Jesus, unashamed, speaks to her. He asks her to get water for him. That would be like asking a pig to share his slop. She acknowledges this with a surprised,"Why do you ask me this, since I am a Samaritan woman?" He wastes no time in his theological parlance. He tells her to ask him for the "water of life". She misses it a bit at first, but it doesn't take her long to get on track. In the course of their discussion (Yes, He was talking theology with a whore) He points out to her that He knows who and what she is. This seals the deal. She knows who He is. She drops her water and runs into town, into a town in which her story is no secret, and pronounces the coming of the Son of God. People believe what she has to say, and come to speak to this strange Jew themselves. It doesn't take long for this crowd of half-breeds to believe Jesus for themselves. They beg Jesus to stay on in their sty, and He easily agrees. Jesus is so willing to defy His current trend of religious beliefs for the love of PEOPLE. Jesus loves Samaritans, He loves me, He loves the people of Melbourne, and even the people of the Western Suburbs. He is not a discriminator. I have realized that I am a racist, supremacist, bigot. I judge people based on their attire, skin colour, and cigarettes. Who is ever going to see Jesus through me? I have realized that I, too, need to follow the Samaritan woman. It's my turn to race after her to the feet of my beloved egalitarian, to sit at his feet and see through His eyes.