The Wells of Jacob and Jesus

 

Introduction

 Jacob’s well

On this third Sunday of Lent, Jesus and the disciples are journeying through Samaria (Samaritans come from Samaria). It is high noon, and the day is “hot, hot, hot.” That’s the way my sister describes to me who lives in cool breezy Milwaukee, WI., the temperature on a typical August day in Alvin, TX: “Hot, hot, hot.”

 

Jesus and the disciples are sweaty and dusty, tired and thirsty. Near the town of Sychar they come upon the ancestral well of Jacob, located on the plot of ground that Jacob gave his son Joseph. There a Samaritan woman has come to draw water. An artist’s  conception of the scene shows a  massive tree bending over the well, bestowing heavenly shade and cool breezes upon the  weary wayfarers as they slake their thirst at the ancestral well of Jacob  (Jn 4:5-42).

 

Ancestral wells

Ancestral wells are the wells to which mothers and fathers lead their sons and daughter to drink, and to which those sons and daughters in turn lead their children. Ancestral wells are all our stories. We are all conceived and born as "tabula rasa"--as clean slates. We are all born with a kind of original innocence. But the moment we come into this world, we are led to the ancestral well. There with mother’s milk we start imbibing and ingesting. There our clean slates begin to be written upon.

 

The ancestral well runs deep. "Sir," says the Samaritan woman in the gospel today, "you don't have a bucket, and the well is deep" (Jn 4:11). At the ancestral well we drink in our worldview—our view of what we think the world should look like. It’s at the ancestral well that we get the idea that all people should look like us. They should have the same color skin we have, should speak the same language we speak, should eat the kinds of food we eat, should do the quaint things we do and should even pray as we pray.

 

The ancestral well runs deep. From its depths we draw many of the questions we ask of life and the answers we give. From it we ingest the values and priorities with which we arrange our lives and the blessings and curses we utter along the way. From the ancestral well we even imbibe the kind of the politics we vote for (Democratic or Republican); the kind of morality we espouse. From the ancestral well we imbibe the kind of God we believe in--a Jewish or Christian or Islamic God.

 

Blessings in the well

Some of the best stuff in us is ingested from the ancestral well. Some of my best recipes for spaghetti sauce come from my Italian ancestral well.  My taste for the healthy Mediterranean diet and for pannini, prosciutto and pasta in particular come from my ancestral well. My warm nature and my sense of hospitality also come from there. Our custom of kissing mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters uncles and aunts and cousins when greeting each other, instead of simply tossing them a meaningless “Hi,” comes from our Italian ancestral well.

 

Mischief in the well

Some time ago a friend wrote saying, “I was raised in a conservative working class family in Cincinnati, Ohio. Being of German ancestry, I was taught from my earliest memory to challenge nothing that Holy Mother Church teaches. I was taught to respect all persons in positions of authority: teachers, parents, aunts, uncles, police, government officials, etc. I was taught to work for what I wanted and to wait until I had cash to buy it. I was taught the Lord helps those who help themselves. And I was taught there is no excuse for being dirty because everyone can afford a bar of soap.”

 

That’s his worldview which he imbibed at his ancestral well. It sounds innocent enough, but it isn’t. Mischief lurks in it, and my friend knows it. He continues saying, “This is my worldview, and it is comfortable, but the truth is not comfortable. The truth hurts, especially if you are comfortable and are living in Grafton or Cedarburg.”(Those are rich little towns in Wisconsin where rich people live.)

 

Religious mischief in Jacob’s well

Over the centuries weary wayfarers were stopping at the well of Jacob and imbibing the blessing of its cool clear waters. At the same time they were also imbibing a good amount of mischief from the well, for in ancestral wells there also lay stagnant and murky waters. There was, for example, the mischief of religion crawling around in Jacob’s well, and weary wayfarers were swallowing it. In the gospel today, the woman at the well , a Samaritan, was arguing with  Jesus, a Jew, saying, “You Jews say it is in Jerusalem that God should be worshipped while we Samaritans say that it is here on Mt. Gerizim that God should be worshipped” (Jn 4:19).

 

Where in the world did Samaritans get their claim that Mt. Gerizim is the right place to worship God? Why, of course, they got it from their ancestral well. “Our ancestors worshipped here,” the woman tells Jesus.  That’s her proof. She’s drinking from the well. Where did Jews get their claim that Jerusalem is the right place to worship God? Why, of course, they also got it from their ancestral well (Jn 4: 23-24).

 

It sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Muslims say the only right place to worship God is in a mosque, Jews say it’s in a synagogue, and Christians say it’s in a church. All of us are drinking from our ancestral wells. Jesus refuses to drink from his ancestral well. Instead he tells the Samaritan woman,”Believe me, ma’am, the hour is coming when we will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. Indeed, the hour is already here when true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth” (Jn 4:21-23).

Racist mischief in Jacob’s well

There was also the mischief of racism mixed in with the mischief of religion crawling around in Jacob’s well, and weary wayfarers were swallowing it. After resting a moment at the well, the disciples went off to buy some food and left Jesus alone at the well. Along came the Samaritan woman to draw water. Jesus asked her for a cup of water. “What!” she exclaimed. “You are a Jew and ask me, a ritually unclean Samaritan, to hand you a cup of water!” Here the gospel adds parenthetically, “Recall that Jews never touch anything that Samaritans touch. They never have anything to do with Samaritans” (Jn 4:9). That's a euphemism for “Recall how Jews hate Samaritans." Jews considered themselves as racial and religious pure-breds and Samaritans as racial and religious mongrels. Where in the world did the Jews of Jesus' day learn to hate Samaritans as mongrels and infidels? Why, of course, at the ancestral well. As babes in arm they were carried to that well and there swallowed and gulped it down with mother’s milk.

 

That, too, sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Where in the world do Usama bin Laden and the Islamists and Jihadists learn to hate us Western mongrels and infidels with hatred so intense that it purposely planned and succeeded in bringing down two towers and three thousand innocent human beings on 9/11? Why, of course, they learn it at the ancestral well. As babes in arm they are carried to its stagnant and murky waters.  There they imbibe their worldview that Islam is the only way: that the whole world should be Islamic; that Medina and Mecca in Saudi Arabia are the only true places where Allah should be worshipped; that Jihad is the holy warfare decreed by Allah to make the whole world Islamic, and that dying in that battle makes you a glorious martyr and gains for you immediate entrance into Paradise where 72 virgins await you.

 

Islamic extremists institutionalize the hatred of their ancestral well in schools called madrasas. There little Muslim kids are not taught to read in order to become intelligent human beings (thinking profoundly and drinking discriminately), but there they are taught to hate in order to become suicide bombers. There little minds are deceived into thinking that some hate-filled political agenda is far more precious than their own individual lives.

 


Conclusion

Jesus’ well

The conversation between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well of Jacob is rambling. There is even a liturgical directive that says the gospel may be cut short for the Sunday assembly. When the story opens, it is the woman who has cool clear water, and it is the Lord who is thirsty and is asking for a drink.  In the course of the rambling, we find ourselves saying, “For God's sake, give the poor man his drink of water." Nowhere in the whole story does it say that Jesus ever got it.  There is no material transaction. There is only spiritual transaction in which the tables are turned. At the end of the day, it is Jesus who has cool clear water, and it is the woman who is thirsty and is asking for a drink.

 

We Christians drink from two wells: the ancestral well and the well of Jesus. At our ancestral wells we do, indeed, imbibe the riches of our Italian, Hispanic, Germanic and Irish origins. And we do, indeed, drink from the riches of our Jewish, Christian and Islamic faiths. But this is also true: at the ancestral well we often imbibe as animals do at a trough--mindlessly swallowing and gulping down anything that comes our way. With its prejudices, half-truths and full lies the ancestral well at times slops us as pigs are slopped at a trough. But Christians drink also from the well of Jesus. There we are challenged to do what human beings were created to do: not to imbibe as animals do at troughs, but rather to think profoundly and drink discriminately.

 

There at the well of Jesus flow the fresh clean waters of our baptism calling us to rebirth. There the waters of our baptism, as well as our Lenten repentance, call us to go back into the womb and unlearn whatever in our worldview needs to be unlearned, for the wonderful process of life is not only about learning but also about unlearning.

 

There at the well of Jesus the waters of our baptism call us to wash away labels like Samaritan and Jew, labels like Latino and Black and White, labels like Believer and Infidel. There at the well of Jesus the waters of our baptism call us to wash away pretentious claims about the right place to worship God, and to concentrate instead on worshipping the Father in spirit and truth.

 

There at the well of Jesus flow waters so cool and so clear that they can even refresh you on a “hot, hot, hot” August day in Alvin, Texas.