When the world judges you, know that there is one who responds with love instead. A friend closer than a brother.
It is noon at Sychar, a small village hidden in the larger city of Samaria, and adjacent to Jacob’s well. It is hot as usual, with people and livestock rarely seen around the well at this time of day. It is the perfect setting for anyone living a quiet and solitary life, away from prying eyes…like the Samaritan woman.
She casually strolls in from the village, putting less thought into her strides as this is a route she knows too well—a route rife with freedom and loneliness, shrouded by silence and reclusiveness. A few inches near the well, she stops in her tracks, her face fills with surprise and uncertainty.
A man is sitting by the well, a stranger she has never seen, and it is odd for him to be there alone at this hour. Fear grips her momentarily but then she shrugs and proceeds towards the well. She had grown used to it, the jeering remarks and disapproving stares she received everywhere she went. And this was only one man so she could handle it.
She draws water from the well, filling her jar slowly with her face down. Her back facing the stranger whom she thought by now was staring contemptuously or about to sneer at her. The village folk disapproved of her and given how small the village was and word traveled fast, newcomers quickly learned of her ways. So she drew water silently and hastily.
“Can I have some water to drink?”
She was startled. The accent gave him away as a Jew, and even more surprising was the kindness in his voice. Jews disapproved of Samaritans and the very name ‘Sychar’, in Hebrew meant drunken, deceitful, or ungodly- echoing the true sentiments of what the Jews thought of the Samaritans.