Not a Harlot: A Witness
Contributor: Danielle Marck via Substack
I’ve heard so many sermons preached about the woman at the well. I remember sitting in a quaintly decorated church in Malvern, PA. The walls were decorated with white paint. The pews would one day become a wooden relic exchanged for the convenience of chairs. During this sermon, I remember the room becoming tight and void of fresh air. An uncomfortable topic will often feel that way. The tap of a shoe, a sign of fear, carried weight in the heaviness of the room. How many times have you heard a sermon preached about the woman at the well? When I was growing up, every preacher I heard preach this text (and it was always a man) would preach it passionately. The adults around me stood up and cheered him on. But there was always something that felt different to me, stinkingly different, about the way these men preached about the woman at the well.
I remember the abrupt pauses after certain sentences. I remember the judgmental stares. I remember the name-calling, critical statements, and rash conclusions. But I never heard curiosity about how she may have found herself in this predicament. Instead, I felt secondhand embarrassment and shame.
At the time, I also didn’t have a historical catalog of achievements that women had solidified in the midst of the hardships they had overcome. I do now. After learning about the suffrage movement in the United States, which didn’t inherently extend political power to Black women, I learned other things I had not known before. Things like:
In 1974, women won the right to open their own credit card account without a man as a cosignatory.
The criminalization of marital rape began in the mid-1970s; by 1993, it was a crime in all 50 states.
Discrimination against hair texture is now illegal in 27 states and Washington, D.C.
And there is still more.
I remember hearing the stories of two young, 14 and 16-year-old girls that were put on the street so their parents could pay their electric bill. At that time, the young girls were subject to arrest, but the adult that preyed upon their vulnerability walked away “free.” Can you imagine how tough that would be for the girls?
Women have been subjected to the reign of misogyny for centuries upon centuries. To men who professed to be godly but whose actions didn’t produce the fruit of godliness. Women and children have been blessed by men and others have been vulnerable to their actions. But Jesus demonstrates a better view of what it looks like to live safely in his arms as his bride.
He knew the condition that women, like the woman at the well, faced and spoke directly to it. In Jesus’ time, and even today, women face the possibility of violence and abuse in many forms.
There were women who were able to move independently without interference. Women like Lydia, Mary Magdalene and Joanna, were able to contribute to Jesus’s ministry and practice a level of autonomy. There were other women, who were not in this position. Women like the woman at the well may have been limited in their options if she found herself connected to a harmful man. This treatment reverberated throughout a woman’s community in these common ways:
Divorce: In many ancient societies, a man could divorce a woman for any reason they deemed fit. Think of all the petty reasons someone could threaten you that would make you fear for your safety, home, and food. Women were subject to destitution due to their few options of employment and self-protection. The institution of marriage itself was vulnerable to abuse. But Jesus revolutionized what was considered to be a reasonable reason to divorce, to the point that his disciples said his teaching was hard.
Perceived, or real, moral failure: There was a stigma attached to being associated with a woman who experienced moral failure, whether this moral failing was real or a perceived notion. Remember Mary, mother of Jesus: Joseph wanted to divorce her quietly so she wouldn’t be stoned.
Levirate marriage complications: If a woman was passed between brothers as a levirate obligation and none would formally marry her, she existed in a kind of legal and social limbo. Neither fully wife nor widow nor divorcee. We see this happen with Tamar in Genesis 38
But Jesus saw and spoke to the Samaritan woman, the one living in an empire, within an empire, surrounded by oppressors. Though she may have suffered harm at the hands of men, Jesus offered her safety. He doesn’t call her a harlot. He doesn’t entertain rumors. He sees her circumstances, her complicated life; he sees her.
Why do we automatically assume that Jesus shared the details of her life as a way to ” put her in the hot seat”, rather than communicate, “I know all that you’ve been through?” If Jesus, who knew everything about her, chose dignity over condemnation, why don’t we?
“Do not be afraid; you will not be put to shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. ... For your Maker is your husband, the Lord Almighty is his name. ... The Lord will call you back as if you were a wife deserted and distressed in spirit, a wife who married young, only to be rejected.” (Isaiah 54:4-6)
Jesus is not in the ‘business’ of shaming, he is in the ‘business’ of restoring dignity. Even more delightful, women were amongst the first people he revealed himself to. How dignifying! The woman at the well was the first person to whom he revealed himself as the Messiah to. Mary Magdalene was the first person he revealed himself to as the risen Messiah. Too often women blaze trails, provide sustenance, and are not experiencing the safety they should. They are not acknowledged. Their names go unsaid and their contributions and sacrifices go underrecognized if recognized at all. Let’s continue to lean in and imagine what it looks like to prioritize the protection of Black women like our lives depend on it, because it does.
