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Posts Tagged ‘Samaritan’

Being the Samaritan Woman

Posted in Time Up to Pentecost, tagged , , , , , , , , , on May 27, 2009| Leave a Comment »

John 4:9
The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)

A couple of weeks ago, Mike and I watched the movie, Being John Malkovich. Now, that’s a strange film, but intriguing. Today, I began wondering what it would be like to inside the head of the Samaritan woman.

I have known what it feels like to be an outcast. As a first generation Latvian, I never felt part of the American community as a child. My father didn’t speak English and my mother had a pronounced accent. We were different. I did everything I could to blend in. On the converse, I wasn’t particularly accepted into the Latvian community either. My father died when I was nine and my mother raised my brother and me as a single mom. I discovered (years later) that she wasn’t really embraced by the Latvians after my father died because she was half German. She was on her own until other women became widows and sought her out for advice. So, while she was ostracized (for both her heritage and her widowhood), so were we.

In the end, both my brother and I became over achievers in an effort to find place. But, much like the Samaritan woman, I was still desperate for relationships. Before I met the Christ, I wandered in and out one relationship after another. Thankfully I didn’t marry each of them, but there is one divorce in my history.

By the time I met Jesus, I needed what she needed: acceptance, renewal, hope, connection, promise, change, transformation.

Upon my conversion, I found no need for drugs or alcohol, that was amazing. I even quit smoking. And then, I tried the great experiment, I became celibate. (Big discovery: those guys weren’t dating me for my mind.) And so, it was just Jesus and me. What a honeymoon.

I wonder why we never learn the Samaritan woman’s name. Perhaps she is a metaphor for all women. Perhaps the details are different, but the feelings and thoughts are ours. I’m glad Jesus was direct with her, telling her specifically who He was. I needed that too. And I believed Him. Thanks be to God.

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Power of Story

Posted in Time Up to Pentecost, tagged , , , , , , , , on May 26, 2009| Leave a Comment »

John 4:42
They said to the woman, “We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world.”

It all begins with a story. The Samaritan woman ran back to her town and told them what had happened to her at the well with the man, clearly a prophet, who revealed truth to her. Her story drew their curiosity and eventually, they too believed in the Christ, through direct encounters with Him.

I used to think that evangelizing or “bringing others to Christ” meant I had to know the “Four Spiritual Laws” or master the script from “Evangelism Explosion.” And although these programs work for some folks, they have not worked for me.

Meeting Christ and choosing the Way of Jesus transformed my life. When I met Jesus, I was flirting with the dark side in a major way: drugs, alcohol, filthy speech habits, and casual sex. It was ultimately just another young man’s story that made me curious enough to read the New Testament. This was my direct encounter with the Lord and I could not say “no” to His invitation. I asked to become his disciple the night of December 24, 1979.

I wish I could say that I was as enthusiastic as the Samaritan woman and ran to tell all of my friends that I had made a decision to follow Jesus. Instead, I was still embarrassed, worried about what they would think or say. And yet, they heard about it anyway. I was changed and people noticed. They asked questions. They wanted to know how I, one of the depraved, could have met Jesus. Like the woman at the well or the woman who washed Jesus feet with her hair, I was renewed by His acceptance and love.

But what about today? After 30 years, is there still power in my story?

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