The Woman at the Well Speaks Today

“As a result of Israel’s siege, Gazans’ access to water from all sources, including desalination and external Israeli sources, quickly dropped by 95 percent after October 9. The United Nations estimates that the average Gazan is living on only 3 liters of water per day for all needs—well below the United Nation’s emergency standard of 15 liters. Without energy, all five of Gaza’s wastewater treatment plants and most of its 65 sewage pumping stations were forced to shut down by mid-November. Some small desalination plants in southern Gaza may be operating at a much-reduced capacity, but plants in northern Gaza are not functional. As many as 70 percent of Gazans now resort to drinking salty and contaminated water straight from wells.” – The Siege of Gaza’s Water, published by Center for Strategic and International Studies, January 12, 2024

Jesus said to her, “Whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst.”

“The woman said to him, 

“Sir give me this water, 

so that I may not be thirsty

or have to keep coming here to draw water.” (John 4:13-15)

I told him: We shared nothing in common.   

We do not speak to one another.  

In practice, we have separated the one God into two.

And yet, we entered into an exchange

over a thirst both physical and spiritual, 

and emerged with an alliance. 

I went ahead of him to announce the living water.

The jug is set aside leaving others to wonder,

Did I offer him a drink?

It was only midday, and Jerusalem still a ways off.  

Was it all a ruse? Was he impervious to hunger and thirst?

Maybe he ate at my house that night.

Maybe I left the man I lived with to follow him to his own holy city

Where one day, his dying request for water would be made a mockery. 

Yes, I have not forgotten the face of those thirsting onto death.

And now I see these faces again, not too far from where he and I met,

The aquifers long ago polluted, the purification plants destroyed,

The pipelines shut down

People drinking filth and brine to quench their thirst,

Slowly poison themselves, fall victim to disease and dysentery.

This is the sentence of the exiled, the occupied, the refugees.

I weep salt tears.

These are my children too, even though my name is long forgotten.

How my own parents grumbled against Moses, “Why did you ever make us leave Egypt?

Was it just to have us die here of thirst 

with our children and our livestock?”

And didn’t the Lord answer Moses’ cry of distress?:

“I will be standing there in front of you on the rock in Horeb.

Strike the rock, and the water will flow from it 

for the people to drink.” (Exodus 17: 3-6)

Would that the Lord struck the stoniness of their hearts!

Perhaps it is this way for those who do not know true hunger and thirst:

Always grumbling, seldom listening.

And now, so much choice, in what one sees and does not see –

The images easily passed over, or questioned as contrived. 

If we hung today’s emaciated, dehydrated bodies on the crosses of the condemned

Would those watching from a safe distance see your eyes, Lord?

Would they finally recognize the kinship and see that we have everything to do with one another?  

“Oh that today you would hear his voice!” (Psalm 95:8)  

And taste the salt in your tears, that your brothers and sisters have been forced to drink.

Let water flow from that rock – Living Water

“The love of G*d that has been poured into our hearts.” (Romans 5:5)

Then, you will know what to say, what to do.

You will know what his death means, and his life.

He is standing in front of you.

Strike the rock.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Angela Paviglianiti practices social work in Chicago where she also completed seminary; however, she has not yet mastered divinity. On Tuesday and Thursday evenings, you can find her at The Fireplace Community, and on other days, you can usually find something she forgot there.