Ken Winter

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Endora's Story

This Friday, February 19th, i am releasing my new book of short stories for Easter entitled The One Who Stood Before Us. It is a collection of forty short stories. Each one of the stories are eyewitness accounts from people who encountered Jesus. Most often in the Gospels we hear about the encounters that Jesus had either through His perspective or through that of the Gospel writer. Through these fictional stories, i endeavor to allow us to hear about the encounter through the eyes of the individual. Some of the individuals come straight out of the Gospels, like this one; and others are representative of the many other people who were in the crowds, whose stories are not told to us. 

This is a story you will recognize from the Bible, but i have given the woman a name, and i have added fictional details to enable us to understand what her life was probably like prior to, as well as after, her encounter with Jesus. She had a story just like each one of us. i pray her story challenges and encourages you in yours! 

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My name is Endora and I am neither Roman nor Jew; I am a Samaritan, living in the village of Sychar. You might think you have never heard of our village before, but you would be wrong. We actually have quite a history – much of which you already know!

Our village and this entire region were cursed from the start. One night after the floodwaters had subsided, our patriarch, Noah, became drunk and was lying naked in his tent. His youngest son, Ham, walked in on his father. But instead of respectfully covering up his father, he left him uncovered and went to tell his brothers about their father’s indiscretion. Ham’s older brother Shem immediately went into the tent and covered his father. 

When Noah awoke from his drunken stupor, he learned what Ham had done. Because of the disrespect of his youngest son, Noah cursed the descendants of Ham’s youngest son, Canaan. This entire region became inhabited by the descendants of Canaan – and this village, which was known as Shechem at the time, was born … under that curse.

The same day Noah cursed his youngest son, he blessed his oldest son, Shem, asking God to prosper and bless his descendants. Part of that blessing was that Canaan’s descendants would always be inferior and lowly before those of Shem.

About 350 years later, one of Shem’s descendants, the patriarch Abraham, set up camp by an oak tree just outside of this village. That night God entered into a covenant with Abraham, promising to give his descendants all of the land of Canaan. Even the land the Canaanites possessed would be taken from them because of the curse.

It was 160 years later that Abraham’s grandson, Jacob (who would later become known as Israel), also made camp in this very place. He bought this piece of land where I am standing right now. He built an altar of sacrifice to Jehovah God and dug a well to water his herds and flocks, intending to peaceably settle here. But a prince of the village defiled Jacob’s daughter and her brothers sought retribution by slaughtering all of the men and seizing the women and children as slaves. But some of the villagers survived and escaped punishment. Jacob’s family moved on, and this village slowly rebuilt from the ashes of destruction.

The Israelites returned to inhabit this land 300 years later. They built an altar in this valley between Mount Gerizim and Mount Ebal. They called it the place of blessings and curses. Gerizim represented blessings and Ebal represented curses. Fittingly, they brought the body of Jacob’s favored son, Joseph, to this very place for burial. It was a reminder to the Israelites of the faithfulness of God in fulfilling His promise and His blessing. But in many ways, it also was a reminder of the curse to the descendants of Canaan. In the years that followed, our Canaanite blood intermixed with Israelite blood and we became worshipers of Jehovah God.

This region and our village became part of the kingdom of Israel and remained as such for more than 500 years until the nation split into two kingdoms. Two hundred years later, our people were taken captive by the Assyrians. Most of our people were taken to Babylon, but some of them escaped captivity and remained here to live and intermarry with their conquerors.

When the Israelites were released from captivity and slowly began to return to this land, they again saw our people – now known as Samaritans – as lowly and inferior. The curse of Ham continued to cast its shadow over us.

We no longer saw the temple in Jerusalem as our place of worship. We were not welcome there. So, we built our own temple at Gerizim – on the mount of blessing – in order to worship Jehovah God.

The hostility between us and the Jews of Judea and Galilee continues to run deep. It has been fostered for thousands of years, and in many respects, it began with a curse. This hatred has passed from generation to generation. Jews will have nothing to do with us, and we will have nothing to do with them. We both take great strides to avoid one another. Interestingly enough, we are both now subjects of the Roman empire. Rome views us as being the same, but nothing could be further from the truth! So, as I said at the start, I am neither Roman nor Jew; I am a Samaritan – and I am proud of that!

I was the eldest daughter of a poor family, and my parents struggled to keep us fed. My parents made an arrangement for me to be married when I was thirteen years old. My prospective husband was a wealthy widower who was fifty years my senior. He wanted a young wife and was willing to provide my father with a few shekels to finalize the agreement. My parents saw the marriage as an opportunity for me to have all that they could not provide, and a means to help them provide for my younger siblings. My husband was kind to me as long as I met his needs.

But four years after we married, he died. I was a seventeen-year-old widow with no children to care for me. My parents were unable to take me back in. So, when my dead husband’s oldest son (from a previous marriage) offered to marry me, I readily accepted. He had inherited his father’s wealth and now earnestly wanted an heir. After two years of marriage, he divorced me because I had not borne him a child.

I was a few months short of my twentieth birthday and I was now a divorced woman without a child and no means of support. Though my prospects were limited, I still had one thing going for me – I was a desirable young woman. It wasn’t long before another older widower by the name of Ibrahim came along and proposed marriage.

Ibrahim was a kind and gentle man. Though he was not as wealthy as my first husband, he truly cared for me. The twelve years of our marriage were the best years of my life. I felt safe and loved. But I did not bear Ibrahim a child. As a result, when he died, I was again left a penniless widow without anyone to care for me.

I married twice more after that. My fourth husband divorced me after five years of marriage so he could marry a younger woman. My fifth husband, as it turned out, was prone to violence. If his heart had not stopped suddenly one night, I fear my years would have been cut short.

So, at age forty-five, after being married five times, I am a barren widow. I am also the subject of gossip in our village and an object of derision. I am currently living with a man named Murjan who cares little about what people think of him … or me. I feel safe with him, but I have no interest in becoming anyone’s wife ever again! Our living arrangement has given the women of our village another reason to gossip about me.

The water source for our village is the well Jacob dug many years ago. Fortunately, it has remained intact as a part of the blessing of Shem and never fell to the curse of Ham. For hundreds of years our ancestors have been coming to this well for water at dawn and at dusk. 

Several years ago, however, I decided I could no longer follow that tradition. I was tired of the looks from the other women and their hurtful words, which were said  just loud enough for me to hear. So, I started going to the well at noon each day. 

Recently, I saw a stranger seated beside the well. I decided He must be a traveler passing through our village. I also noticed that He had a couple of companions with Him, but they were standing at a distance. 

I decided to ignore the Man and do what I came to do. Just as I began to draw from the well, He said, “Please give Me a drink.”(1) It was obvious He was a Jew. His appearance and His manner of speech left no doubt. I was surprised that a Jew would dare speak to me! “You are a Jew,” I said, “and I am a Samaritan woman. Why are You asking me for a drink?”(2)

The Man answered, “If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask Me, and I would give you living water.”(3) 

Living water? What was this Man talking about? So, I replied, “But Sir, You don’t have a rope or a bucket, and this well is very deep. Where would you get this living water? And besides, do You think You are greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us this well? How can You offer better water than he and his sons and his animals enjoyed?”(4)

The Man again replied, “Anyone who drinks this water will soon become thirsty again. But those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life.”(5)

I had no idea what this Man was talking about! I was starting to think He might be crazed, but nothing in His demeanor indicated that. I decided to pursue His statement further.

Please Sir,” I said, “give me this water! Then I’ll never be thirsty again, and I won’t have to come to this well anymore.”(6) I honestly would have welcomed any remedy that saved me from making this journey to the well each day!

But He surprised me by changing the subject, saying, “Go get your husband.”(7) I promptly told Him I didn’t have a husband. But then He said, “You’re right! You don’t have a husband – for you have had five husbands, and you aren’t even married to the man you are living with now.”(8)

How could this stranger possibly know that? How could He know anything about me? I studied Him a little more closely. Had He somehow heard the gossip about me? But He wasn’t saying those things in a condemning way. He was saying them as if He were a friend who knew all the details of my life. Who was this Man? 

As I stared at Him, I realized He was not looking at me with desire as some men did. Neither was His look judgmental nor condemning. Rather, He looked at me as if He knew all I had ever been. And I began to realize He could see all I would ever be.

He knew I had come to the well at the noon hour to avoid the other women of the village. He knew of the scorn and belittling I endured. He knew my heart had been hurt so many times that it had become callous and hardened. He knew I would no longer permit anyone to hurt me again.

Sir, You must be a prophet,”(9) I said. “Why is it that you Jews insist that Jerusalem is the only place to worship, while we Samaritans claim it is here at Mount Gerizim, where our ancestors worshiped?”(10)

He replied, “Woman, the time is coming when it will no longer matter whether you worship the Father on this mountain or in Jerusalem. Indeed, the time is here now – when true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth.”(11)

Each time He spoke, I could feel the hardened shell around my heart softening just a little more. I felt strangely safe talking to Him – even safer than I had with Ibrahim. Could this Man possibly be the One whose coming had been foretold? I looked at Him and said, “I know the Messiah is coming – the One who is called Christ. When He comes, He will explain everything to us.”(12) My heart stopped beating as I waited for Him to respond. Then He said, “I am He!”(13)

My heart leapt as I heard the truth. I knew this was the Promised One! I felt a flood of emotions. I felt forgiven. I felt cleansed. I felt safe. For the first time in my life, I felt free! And immediately, without any thought about why I had come to the well, I ran back to the village as quickly as I could to tell everyone about the Man who “told me everything I ever did!”(14) Here I was – the woman who had made it a practice of avoiding everyone – and now I was seeking out everyone to tell them about this Man. 

On my way back to the village, I passed some men who apparently were traveling with Him. They were returning with food they had purchased in the village. They looked shocked that Jesus had been talking to me. Ironically, I had seen them earlier in the day on my way to the well. They had turned their heads as we passed, clearly showing their contempt and disapproval. But the One they were following had not turned His head away from me! And as a result, I would never turn away from Him!

I ran straightaway to tell Murjan about the Man at the well. Then I went out into the streets and began to tell everyone who would listen. At first, they were astounded that I dared to speak to them. Some just ignored me. But soon a crowd gathered and began to listen intently. I told them, “Don’t just take my word, go and see this Man for yourselves.”

Murjan and I followed them as they went to find the Man. Soon they were begging Him to stay in our village. I learned His name was Jesus. He agreed to stay, and over the next two days many more in our village heard His teaching and His message of Living Water. And many, like me – including Murjan – believed. Soon people throughout the village were proclaiming, “We believe, not just because of what the woman told us, but because we have heard Him ourselves. Now we know that He is indeed the Savior of the world.”(15)

I had no idea what was going to happen that day at the well. I had no idea that my life was about to change forever. But now I know that the One who stood before me has filled me with Living Water – and I will never thirst again!

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This story is excerpted from The One Who Stood Before Us. The complete book of forty stories is now available through Amazon in standard print, large print, and for your e-reader. Click HERE for more information on how you can obtain your copy.

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In multiple instances the dialogue in this story comes directly from Scripture. Whenever i am quoting Scripture, it has been italicized. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved. The Scripture references are as follows:

((1)John 4:7

(2)John 4:9

(3)John 4:10

(4)John 4:11-12

(5)John 4:13-14

(6)John 4:15

(7)John 4:16

(8)John 4:17-18

(9)John 4:19

(10)John 4:20

(11)John 4:21-24

(12)John 4:25

(13)John 4:26

(14)John 4:29

(15)John 4:42

Copyright © 2021 Kenneth A. Winter All rights reserved.

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