Chapter 11: A family-Act One, Scene Three

Here in Sychar’s marketplace, the day is coming to a close.  The merchants and other townspeople are scattered about, working at various things and chattering among themselves.  Esau arranges his priduce as justifies the latest turn in his busy life to his friend Gad

Esau - Well, it just wasn't working out.  Besides, Deborah is still a fine woman, in her own right.

Gad -And the fact that she still has a large inheritance doesn't hurt either.

Esau -See here, my friend.  It's not like that at all ...

Gad - No.  Of course it isn't.

After a beat they burst out laughing.  

The group of women from the well enter the market 

as the continue their gossip as the enter the town while .

Esther - So how did you do it, Deborah?

Deborah - Why, I was just the perfect, submissive wife.

Esther - No, really.

Deborah - Really.  Before he left for work I submitted the profit I'd made from the grape harvest... from the field my father still owns...that I manage... and that I will inherit...

Rachel - ...that he won't get unless he's married to you.

Esther - Excellent.  Did he grovel.  Please say he groveled.

Deborah - Just like a dog.

Mary bursts onto the scene quite out of breath.  

The women, demonstrating a traditional Sycharian 

gesture of hospitality, spit vehemently on the ground 

and begin hurling scraps of food and insults at her.  

The men turn sheepish.  Some turn their backs.  

A few others smile, wink and nudge each other.  

Mary, in contrast, seems oblivious to their welcome.

Mary - Come ... and see.  Come and... see ...

Esther - Go away, harlot!

Rachel - You're not welcome among decent people!

Mary - No. You don't understand... You must... you must ... (stops and gathers her thoughts) Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did.  Could this be the Christ?

Gad - The Christ!  Not another one!  He’s just another traveling magician.

Mary  - No.  You don't understand. 

She pauses and looks each man in the eye 

as she delivers the message once again.

Mary - He told me EVERYTHING... I...EVER...DID.  

It was another moment for realizing true power.  

The men get the realization, 

seconds before their wives do.  

Mary smiles a bit too wickedly.

Mary - Come and see.

Chapter 10: A family-Act One, Scene Two

We've left our wayward husband to look into the scene he described:  Jacob’s Well, just outside the town.  It the afternoon of that same day.  A group of women are talking at the well, filling urns with water.  They are gossipy, lighthearted and confident.  A man enters unseen and sits nearby.  He carries himself with the weariness of a constant traveler; a man a long way from home.  He sits on a rock and listens to their conversation.  So will we.

Esther Deborah, you have the patience of Job.  I don't know how you put up with it.

Rachel She has to.  We all do.  But we have our ways to get back what's ours. 

They all laugh

.

Deborah – But you haven’t heard the latest.

Esther – Good news, I hope.

Rachel – Tell us, sister.  Don’t leave us waiting.

Deborah – He came home this morning.

Rachel –  He just walked right in?

Deborah – Like nothing had ever happened...

Esther – You're not serious.

Deborah – ... and started washing his hands and face.

Esther – That's not all he should be washing.  I mean.... he should be washing Deborah’s feet

Rachel – Oh, of course. 

Rachel winks and the rest of the women grin.

Deborah – Then he kisses the children and says, "I'm off to work.  I'll be home for dinner." Then he takes my hand and gives me those eyes.  "We'll talk later," he says.

Esther – So you'll take him back?

Deborah –Of course.  He's a good provider.  And like you said:  we have our ways.

Rachel – Make him grovel, Deborah!

Esther – Like the dog he is.

Deborah – Yes... just like a dog.

Esther – But what about that woman?

Deborah – What about her?  Have you seen her lately?  She's not what she was when she took my husband, just like she wasn't what she claimed when she came to Sychar.  She'll not be stealing many more husbands here.  In fact, I don't expect the town will allow her to stay much longer.  

All – That’s right!

The traveler watches as they gather their 

jugs and leave.  Mary enters shortly after carrying her urn.  

She looks around to see if she's alone and then begins filling the urn.  

The traveler observes her quietly for a moment,  and smiles as 

though recognizing a long-lost relative.  He calls out to her.

Traveler – May I have a drink?

Mary –  Oh!  I didn't see you there.  Wait.... You’re a Jew, aren’t you?  I am a Samaritan.  You are not supposed to be talking with me.  How can you ask me for a drink? 

Traveler – If you knew who I was and what I can offer you, you would have asked me and I would have given you living water.

Mary – I don’t understand.  You have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where would you get this living water?   (Proudly) Just who do you think you are, anyway.  Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his flocks and herds?

The traveler comes over to the well and 

looks down into its depths.  He shrugs, unimpressed.

Traveler – Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks my water will never thirst again.  If fact, my water will become in him a spring of water overflowing with eternal life.

Real prophets are in short supply in Palestine, 

but Mary knew they are capable of great miracles.

Mary – (mumbling to herself) If I can win his favor, he might be able to get God to give me my own well.  I would never have to come here again.  I could open my own inn.  I could leave this town.  (angrily) I wouldn't need anybody ... not even a husband!

Sir, give me this water so that I won't get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.

Traveler – First, go get your husband and come back.

Mary – I ... I have no husband.

Traveler –Yes, I know.  The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you have now is not your husband.  It's quite true, isn't it.

Mary has often been unclothed in front of a man, 

but she has never felt naked as she did now. 

She stammers and tries to change the subject.

Mary – Sir, I can see that you are a prophet.  

Searching for lost piety, she grasps for a fig leaf.

Mary – Our fathers worshipped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem...

Traveler – I am too weary to continue this dance.  Listen to me.  Soon you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem.  You Samaritans really don't know what you worship, but we do, for salvation comes from the Jews.  But today true worshipers are worshipping the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth. 

She believes she is safe now, hidden behind a 

false robe of religion.  It is time to close 

this conversation and move on.  There will be be no 

miraculous provision this time.  Or so she thinks.

Mary -- I know that Messiah is coming.  When he comes, he will explain everything to us.

Traveler– The Messiah is talking to you now. 

When confronted by real power, it often takes a moment 

to come to full acceptance.  It takes Mary a full five seconds.  

She gasps and stares, open-mouthed, 

not realizing that the Traveler's friends are approaching.  

They are surprised to find him talking with this 

woman and begin to question him about her.  
Seeing an opportunity to escape this uncomfortable 

moment, she flees, leaving the very symbol of her 

shame and imprisonment in Sychar: her water jar.  

She runs for the marketplace

Chapter 9: A Family, Act One, Scene One

So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob's well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about the sixth hour when a Samaritan woman came to draw water.

  The greatest enemy of faith is each other.  We tend to look at others as resources or challenges when we should be looking at them as fellow travelers.  Our inability to see our people as people is the single largest barrier to and individuals ability to achieve that vision that leads to faith.  We are seemingly intent on keeping each other in check, rather than encouraging each other to success.

  We’re about to visit with a woman that you may actually know quite well.  She’s the subject of many of your more important life lessons, yet  you probably have never really noticed her.  Let me tell you a little about her. 

  She has a brother and a sister.  In youth, both sisters were lovely, flirtatious and full of life.  One day the younger one said, "Brother, I have found someone I can make into my image of a man.  Give me my dowery from our estate, so I may marry him."  And though the older sister had not yet married, he did as she asked.  

  So, the young woman married.  But it was not long before she grew bored with this man she had made and returned to her flirtatious ways.  That vexed her husband beyond pliability and he divorced her, returning to her what was left of the dowery.  Now that she had shamed herself and the family, she got together all she had, and set off for a distant country that cared little about the religious issues of divorce.  There she married again ... and again ... and again.   

  Several years later, she finds herself unmarried, not as lively and lovely as she once was, and her wealth squandered by her own choice.  She longs for companionship, intimacy and commitment, but no one gives her anything.  It is a desperate time.  She lives now in a small home in a relatively large but unimpressive city.      

  We’re standing outside that home now.  There is a man emerging.  He is clearly frustrated.  He stands with hands on hips, a deep scowl on his face.  

Good Morning, sir.

Not from where I’m standing.

The day not starting our as anticipated?

Hardly.

What seems to be the problem?

All I wanted was some water to wash my face and get ready for the morning.

Seems reasonable.

I thought so.  Yet she throws me out. 

Are you sure there wasn’t any other rmotive behind her anger?

Oh, he said something about not being able to go to the well in the morning.

Why’s that?

Because she says the other women hate her.

That's a strong statement.

Yeah, well... she has this ...habit.

What habit?  

Taking other women’s husbands.

That could wear out one’s welcome in a small community pretty quick.

I suppose.

So why did you marry her?

I didn’t.  I’m married to someone else.

Oh.

Hey, I’m only human.  Oops!  Gotta go.

  The woman emerges from the home, disheveled and grumpy. As she adjusts her clothing and pushes her hair away from her face, we see a still lovely but once beautiful woman.  She is not what she was, but has not yet become what she sees herself to be.  She watches the man hurrying down the street and gives him a stare that could melt lead.  She knows the signs and stages of relationships.  She recognized the death rattle for this relationship.  She ambles about  briefly, picks up a pitcher, wraps her arms around it, then slumps into a chair.  She buries her hands in her face.  This seems to be a private moment and we have some other people to meet.

Chapter 8: Centurion, Part 1

At Caesarea there was a man named Cornelius, a centurion in what was known as the Italian Regiment.

Over the past few chapters we have search for 

faith in the realm of anticipation and expectation. 

Today we move into a new area of our search, 

where frustration and violence are the norm.

Faith doesn’t just happen.  There is a thought, an event or even 

just a casual word from a stranger that just 

seems so out of the ordinary that you can’t ignore it.  Faith invades 

your status quo at that moment and throws fear, 

uncertainty, even doubt into your conventional wisdom.  

You first thought on this invasion:  What’s the catch?.  

One might say that the initial evidence of real faith is ... suspicion.

We are at an outdoor religious service.  

People are flocking to hear an evangelist  in animal skins.  

He is baptisizing them in a muddy, shallow, slow moving river 

flowing through a desert wilderness. 

This is a familiar scene for many of us.  

But we are not concerned with the familiar.  

Over there, on that outcropping of rock above the river, 

is a man in a dull red cloak, huddled in the shadows of the rock.  

He is out of place in this gathering.  

That’s who we are looking for.  

Sir, a moment of your time.

I haven’t got time for you.  Be on your way.

We just have a few questions.  We won’t give you away.

What?  What do you mean?

We mean that we know you aren’t here to listen to the Baptist.

How do you know that?

You seem quite content with what and who you are.  

You are not a seeker of absolution.

And what am I then?

A servant of the status quo.  A Soldier.

That’s is very observant.

It wasn’t hard.  You are clean shaven with cropped hair in a land in 

where beards and long hair are the fashion.  

Also, your short sword was glistening in the sun.

Damn!  I thought I had that covered.

So.  May we talk a bit?  We are not from around here either 

so we have no agenda against you or your mission, whatever it may be.

There seems to be no harm in talking. I am not here in secret.  I’m juist being discrete.  What are your questions?

What are you doing here?

I thought you weren’t interested in my mission?

We have no agenda against it.  That doesn’t mean we have no interest in it.  

You are out of place here.  We are interested in the out of place.

Alright.  That man down there -- the baptist -- is causing quite a stir in both Jerusalem and Ceasaria.  Even though he hasn’t gone to either city.  I was ordered to find out what he is doing and why...and if it poses a threat.  He is, as you put it, out of place in our view of things.

And is he a threat?

Not as I can see.  In fact, he has some benefit to Rome.

How so?

He is insulting the local leaders; impuning their integrity.  And the people listen to him.  That weakens the leaders’ authority.  Makes them less likely to be able to stand up to the Roman authority.

But doesn’t that strengthen subversive movements that might be a threat?

Those kind of movements are poorly equipped, undisciplined and under trained.  They cannot stand up to the army of Rome.  They are merely an annoyance.

So you will be leaving soon?

Not so sure.

Why?

I am a soldier.  I understand authority.   A few minutes ago, a man came forward to be baptized.  The baptist stopped his preaching and talked quietly with him, deferentially. He recognizes this new man’s authority...and he hasn’t recognized any man’s authority.  The baptist has a following but not the desire to lead.  If he has found someone to submit to, his people will turn and follow whoever he tells them to.  Look!  There!  The baptist has sent two of his own after the new man.  That’s where the threat lies.  Not in the baptist.  He is now my mission.  I will follow him and find out what his plan is.

Very interesting.  We’ll catch up with you later.