“Talking with a woman…”

By the time Jesus walked the dusty trails of Judaea, centuries of mistrust and mutual accusation had created palpable enmity between “true” Jews and Samaritans. So, when making the journey between Galilee and Judea, respectable Jews would choose the hotter, longer desert route that ran to the east of the Jordan river rather than the more direct and cooler way through the Judean mountains—and through Samaria.

But by all accounts, Jesus was no “respectable” Jew. He lived out his inclusive message to the full, frequently offending the religious leaders’ sensibilities and becoming known for his unacceptable close, personal contact with the nation’s rejects. When making his way back to Galilee from Jerusalem, it seems unlikely, then, that it was economy of effort or a need for speed that governed his choice to travel through Samaria. Perhaps John is referencing an inner necessity when he says that Jesus “had to go through Samaria” (Jn. 4:4), because it certainly was not the only available route. Indeed, some time earlier, after the wedding at Cana in Galilee, Jesus had made the journey south for the Passover with no mention of Samaria. Be that as it may, on his return, through Samaria they went, and once the disciples had left him to head into the Samaritan town of Sychar in search of food, Jesus found himself sitting by Jacob’s well, alone.

I imagine most of us will know what happens next, how Jesus enters into conversation with a Samaritan woman who came to draw water, a conversation that leads to a powerful personal encounter for her, and paves the way for many others in Sychar to come to faith. There’s so much that can be said about Jesus’s deliberate engagement with this unnamed Samaritan woman, how he chooses her as a “worthy person” (Mt. 10:11) or “child of peace” (Lk. 10:6), the key to opening the hearts of others in the village. But for now, I’d like to focus on the disciples’ reaction when they return to the well and are “surprised to find him talking with a woman” (Jn. 4:27).

Let’s just stop for a moment and let that sink in. What’s the issue here? The sorry state of relationships between Samaritans and Jews is discernible throughout the gospels. Rejecting Jesus’s claims about himself, an angry Jewish crowd revealed their own prejudice as they accused Jesus of being “a Samaritan or demon-possessed” (Jn. 8:48). Jesus saw the same hatred in his own disciples as the “sons of thunder” James and John asked for his blessing to call down fire from heaven and burn up a Samaritan village that had refused them entry because they were headed to Jerusalem (Jn. 9:51-55). To avoid unnecessary confrontation, when first sending out the twelve, Jesus wisely instructed them to stay amongst Jews, avoiding Gentiles and being careful not to “enter any town of the Samaritans” (Mt. 10:5). On one occasion, having healed ten men of a skin disease while travelling along the border between Samaria and Galilee, Jesus was at pains to point out—to the shame of the Jews—that the only one to return to give praise to God was a Samaritan (Lk. 17:9-11). And knowing full well the impact it would have, Jesus used a Samaritan as the hero of a story designed to demonstrate the true meaning of loving your neighbour (Lk 10:25-37).

So, let’s ask the question again—what’s the issue here? Despite their evident antagonism, the disciples were not irked at Jesus striking up a conversation with a Samaritan per se. Rather, they were surprised (NIV)—better translated as amazed or astonished—that Jesus was talking with a woman.

Ah, a woman… Despite Jesus’s inclusion of women amongst his closest followers, it seems that his disciples were still steeped in traditions that mandated the separation of men and women. Perhaps they were concerned for Jesus’s reputation, not to mention his safety—warnings of the dangers of falling foul of lurking adulteresses abound in the Proverbs. The slippery slope into sexual sin can start with a simple conversation, they had learned, so why play with fire? Typifying attitudes prevalent at that time, Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers, a foundational document of the Jewish Mishnah) states:

“Yosi ben Yochanan of Jerusalem said: Let your house be wide open and let the poor be members of thy household; and do not talk much with women. This was said about one’s own wife; how much more so about the wife of one’s neighbour. Therefore the sages have said: He who talks too much with women brings evil upon himself and neglects the study of the Torah and will in the end inherit Gehenna”.

Pirkei Avot 1:5

Nevertheless, wherever their views stemmed from, and however shocked they were by the scene that greeted them, they said nothing. But they thought it, and furtive looks no doubt cemented their silent agreement. Lone encounters with women were dangerous, and Jesus was seriously out of order.

Did they realise how much their thinking was impacted by the powerful forces that shaped the world they had grown up in, with its cultural norms surrounding the place of women, reinforced by both implicit and explicit instruction? Did they have any idea to what extent the patriarchal system that they unreservedly embraced was in fact contrary to God’s design for humanity? Were they in the slightest bit aware of their unconscious bias against women? Are we?

Developing from an early age and throughout childhood, unconscious bias occurs when we hold stereotypical views about different social groups beyond our own conscious awareness. Operating in our subconscious, unconscious or implicit bias is significantly more pervasive than known prejudices and has a noticeable impact on thinking and behaviour, despite often coexisting alongside opposite conscious values.

We too have inherited a world rooted in centuries of tradition, societal norms, and theology that have accepted—and at times promoted—misogynistic convictions and behaviour. None of us are immune from their subtle but enduring influence, with the result that each of us sees and interprets the world through the lens of our unconscious biases. Even our reading of Scripture itself is subject to these presuppositions, imposing interpretations on texts far beyond what is justified.

Any attempt to remove the obstacles to women’s full participation in the life of the church and restore balance in the relationships between men and women will thus not be achieved solely by appeals to Scripture. It must uncover, name, challenge and ultimately undo the sophisticated web of silent convictions woven by unconscious biases.

How? Simply becoming aware that our thinking is subject to implicit bias is an excellent starting point, and churches need to create safe spaces that encourage vulnerability and where unconscious discrimination against women can be openly and honestly addressed.

Beyond this, we need to learn to be sensitive to the tell-tale clues that reveal where such biases are at work, then having the courage to address these and proactively seek change. Perhaps they had not yet seen enough of Jesus’s way of working, but the disciples’ own surprise at seeing Jesus “talking with a woman” should have alerted them to their misdirected thinking. In a similar way, whenever we find ourselves in situations where we—or others we work with—are uncomfortable with women living in the freedom that is theirs in Christ, freedom to serve with the gifts God has given them and follow the still small voice of God in their lives, we must ask what lies behind that discomfort.

Otherwise we may find ourselves in the same place as the disciples, amazed that Jesus still speaks with, and indeed through, a woman.

Photos by Frans Hulet, Laurin Grether and Ayo Ogunseinde on Unsplash