A Deeper Well

The Sieger Koeder painting is entitled "Insight." It is a striking depiction of one of the loveliest and most multi-faceted stories in the Gospels, the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. Sieger's rendition is an aid to contemplation, an invitation to the depths of the story.

In the waters at the bottom of a deep well, the woman sees a reflection that is surprising for two reasons. First, because the image of herself that she sees is that of a smiling, happy woman, even though there seems to be little trace of a smile on the face of the woman looking down into well. Secondly, because there is another face reflected in the waters, even though there appears to be only one person peering into the well's depths.

I think Sieger is depicting what has happened to this woman after her encounter with Jesus.

She is a woman who has lived on the surface. She has defined herself by the superficial judgments of the world she lives in. She is a woman, a Samaritan, an adulteress: all categories that make her understand herself as reprehensible and somehow second-rate. That is why she must draw water alone in the heat of noon, a time when all respectable women are at home with their socially acceptable families. That is why she responds to Jesus' innocent request for water with a tough, self-protective wariness that is aimed at discouraging deeper inter-action. That is why she engages him in the tiresome, old, unsubstantial theological debate between Jew and Samaritan about the proper place of worship. That is why she comes to the well day after weary day: what she draws is too shallow to ever fill a cavernous emptiness.

She has had five husbands, Jesus says. If this is meant literally, it suggests that she has run from one unsatisfying, shallow relationship to another. If this is meant symbolically, as St. Augustine suggests, then the "five husbands" refer to "her five senses," who have been her lords (as husbands were, in the patriarchal culture of the time), keeping her on the surface of herself and life.

At the end of the encounter, John notes a telling detail. When she runs into the village, she leaves behind her water jar. She has no need of it anymore.

Jesus' kind acceptance, his rejection of her own self-rejection, his patient, bemused willingness to engage her in dialogue, his courage in confronting her with her own superficial seeking, his offer and his promise of life-giving water: in short, his love for her, deep, gracious, abundant, lead her to a new vision of her self.

She looks into the deep well of her life. Beyond the shallow judgments, beyond the futile attempts to satisfy profound longings in petty ways, she sees herself always accompanied by a love that is inexhaustible in its depths and in its life-giving gifts.

I contemplate this painting, recall the story, hear the gracious invitation.