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Only if... |
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On one afternoon in Anno Domini 367 Saint Athanasius, the Bishop of Alexandria had just finished reading another story about Jesus and then, suddenly, he shouted loudly: enough is enough!
He, the Patriarch of Alexandria, which was one of the most famous cities in Christendom, lost patience with the continuous disagreements among Christians about the number of Gospels. The clergy, deacons and pious Catholic Christians asked him all the time: should we read four Gospels, eight or more? Which one is the true story about Jesus? Then, he decided that in his annual Festival Letter he would write to all obedient Catholic bishops in Egypt to announce that there were only four canonical Gospels – Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – and only these four should be read in churches. The rest of the stories circulating about Jesus should be destroyed immediately: Throw them away, tear them apart – above all stop reading them or preaching about them!
So from that very year, again 367 years after Christ’s birth, Athanasius’ authority and ecclesiastical power finally listed Matthew, Mark, Luke and John as the Gospels that should be read in churches.
But what if the anonymous Samaritan woman had written a Gospel about Jesus, the Saviour? How would her story about Jesus have differed from the other four memoirs and diaries? Today we read John’s Gospel about an unknown Samaritan woman who encountered Jesus and whose conversation with him changed her life. She went back to her village and proclaimed the good News about the Messiah to many more people and they believed in Jesus. As John noted:
Many Samaritans of that town had believed in him on the strength of the women’s testimony when she said: ‘he told me all I have ever done’, so when the Samaritans came up to him, they begged him to stay with them…’
Such a paradox, Jesus, a Jew, rejected by the very people of his own village and received by the Samaritans, and in the centre of that welcoming reception a Samaritan woman who had six husbands.
I would like to invite you to listen to the Gospel according to the Samaritan woman. I would like to encourage you to stretch your imagination and sensitivity over the limits of the Catholic Church laid down by bishop Athanasius, and very carefully, very humbly, very openly listen to her story about the Jewish Saviour and the Saviour of the world.
The Gospel according to the Samaritan woman.
I was born as a Samaritan woman – that is, a descendent of Epharim, Manassesh and Levi. I was born as a member of the Samaritan nation, a nation proud of worshiping the true God who revealed himself to our patriarchs, which we shared with the Jews. But unlike the Jews, we do not worship the Almighty God in Jerusalemtemple, as He cannot be encompassed by material buildings and shrines, so we Samaritans worship God on the Mount of Gerizim. We share with the Jews, the Mosaic Law, the Holy Scriptures, faith in the Creator of the World, but we do not accept their claim that God dwells in Jerusalem. We do not accept their endless offerings, sacrifices and slaughter of animals in the temple. This is the faith of my ancestors, the faith of my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, my neighbours. In this faith I was born, I the Samaritan woman. I did my best to live my life according to my faith, but as a woman of my time and place, I was obedient to my
father. I married my first husband as a young girl, then he divorced me according to our Mosiac Law. I was married many times. It was not because I was searching for an ideal partner. I did not search for anybody. Nobody asked me about my feelings or choice. I was simply married many times and many times left as I can’t have children. Who wants a barren woman as a wife? So when I was with my sixth man, one day I went to draw water to the well near Sychar.
On that day I met a Jew who sounded like a teacher, but he was more than a teacher. There was nothing special about his appearance, a tired man having a rest. But I knew that he was a Jew as he was dressed as a Jew. Also, I know our people and he was not one of us, he was never here before. He was a foreigner and his accent hinted his Galilean origin. This man asked me for water and by this very request he challenged the established tradition of separation between our nations. But I didn’t care – as a divorced and remarried woman the traditions of the elders did not have the same meaning as when I was first married. Then, he opened his mouth like a wise man and taught me about the water of eternal life, which for us people living near desert, is always precious and dear. But the water from his story was more than just daily drink. He promised me water which wouldl spring from the bottom of my soul. That water would satisfy my thirst. First my thirst
for acceptance as I am, a barren woman who wants to be loved not because I can conceive a child but as I am. This man knew my past, he knew about my dreams and my shame. He read me like an open scroll of scripture… He said that soon, very soon, the established and respected ways of worshiping God would be over. Soon my self-respect would change, my ‘war’ with the God about whom I have learned from my religion, would finish. He said that our Samaritan and the Jewish attachment to either Holy Mount or to the Templewould be replaced by a new religion. This new religion would bring a spiritual way. No more ritualistic actions repeated every year and endless prayers, no more reliance on a special cast of priests as intercessors, but as he said:
‘The hour will come – in fact it is here already –
When the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth.’
And then he added:
‘That is the kind of worshipers the Father wants
God is spirit and those who worship must worship in spirit and truth…’
I was listening to him and I did not note the time of the day. I was listening to him and I forgot about my water. I was listening to him and I hoped that he would never stop talking about this new life. My mind, my heart, my soul were illuminated by his words. Suddenly, my past, my present, my future became transparent. I was no longer dependent on having a man. This prophet revealed God’s mystery in the light of which I, a Samaritan woman, recognised that I am loved by God as I am.
I wish you had been there with me. But, as I was on my own, I wrote those words to pass on to you. These are my memories of meeting with a Jewish rabbi, who revealed a new image of the Almighty. After this meeting I stopped worshipping on MountGirizim. I stopped worshipping God in the accustomed manner of my ancestors or even of my father and mother. I changed my way of worshipping God from the day I encountered Jesus. I was liberated from guilt, I was liberated from ritualistic, neurotic religion. I was liberated from a commercial relationship with God in which I prayed in expectation of a return in blessings and in the afterlife. I became free as a woman.
Amen.
Saint Athanasius, the bishop of Alexandria, had on his desk many similar Gospels which only confused pious Christians about the truth taught by the holy Church. He himself did not need any more Gospels to believe in true nature of Jesus of Nazareth. Do you?
Revd Dr Piotr Ashwin-Siejkowski
St John the Divine
Richmond/Surrey
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