Disturbed

I am a bit troubled by today’s readings. The gospel is this uncomfortable sequence in which Jesus, for the third time, has told his disciples 

Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death, and hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and scourged and crucified.” 

At least this time Jesus lets them know he will be raised from the dead… not that they understand what he is telling them – or maybe they weren’t really listening.

Then comes the mother of the sons of Zebedee. It is as though they are saying: “OK, sure, that’s all good and well, but when you come into your kingdom…” 

There is a part of me that wants to reply, “Really?!?” 

And there is the part of me that is troubled. 

How many times have I missed the important Words of God while I was thinking of something else, something focused more on me than on the ones I am called to serve. When I am focused on my list of things to do… no doubt important … but are they things of service to the Lord and his people?

I wonder if sometimes I am exactly like the people in the first reading who are conspiring against Jeremiah. They’re thinking: So what if we get rid of Jeremiah, “It will not mean the loss of instruction from the priests, nor of counsel from the wise, nor of messages from the prophets.”  At least not the ones who give us what we want to hear, offer easy grace, and don’t disturb us from our view of the world.

The Word of God: just last week the prophet Isaiah told us that the Word goes out and accomplishes its mission and does not return to God empty-handed. 

The question is will the Word return with us in hand? Did we listen even when it made us uncomfortable, disturbed our world view, and shone a light on a path we are less-than-willing to walk.

The world is not ready to hear the disturbing words of the Gospel. Folks don’t like the true prophet who draws people’s attention to the things they don’t want to hear. Folks need to figure all that out. 

But what about us? Are we willing to be disturbed?


Image credit: The Prophet Jeremiah, Michelangelo, fresco on ceiling of Sistine Chapel, Vatican City | Public Domain

The Turning Point

The previous posts attempted to lead the reader through the labyrinth of thoughts and attitudes that formed the currents of Japanese-U.S. relationship from the beginning of 1941 until June 1941. Within the U.S. government, the key figures were already in place and would remain so for the remainder of 1941 as would their views and recommendations. Within the Japanese government the same could not be said. There were changes in the Foreign Ministry, Navy Ministry, and in the office of the Prime Minister. These changes are a reflection of the changing and narrowing of Japanese options.

In May of 1941, after months of private negotiations, Ambassador Nomura delivered Hull’s 4 principles to Tokyo. They were sent without context. Nomura never indicated that these were at the core of Secretary Hull’s agenda. Foreign Minister Matsuoka rejected them in substance and issued a counter-position that sharply redefined the terms of any agreement. Hull’s Four Principles (sovereignty and territorial integrity; non-interference; equality of commercial opportunity; peaceful change) were, in Matsuoka’s view, abstract and one-sided. His counter proposal stressed five key elements:

  1. Any settlement had to recognize Japan’s leadership role and security needs on the Asian mainland. This meant the U.S. had to recognize Japan’s “special position” in East Asia, especially in China, which the Four Principles implicitly denied. 
  2. Non-abrogation of the Tripartite Pact: Japan would not renounce or dilute its alliance with Germany and Italy as a precondition for talks.
  3. Reciprocal non-interference, meaning the U.S. should cease material and moral support for China, notably aid to Chiang Kai-shek, if Japan were to consider moderation of its China policy.
  4. Stability through spheres of responsibility, not universal rules. Japan argued that regional order required acknowledging existing facts created by force.
  5. Economic normalization first, particularly restoration of trade (notably oil), before political or military concessions.

In effect, Matsuoka transformed Hull’s universal principles into a regional, power-based framework that preserved Japan’s gains in China and its axis-powers alliance commitments. This response hardened American skepticism about Japan’s sincerity and widened the gap that later negotiators, after Matsuoka’s removal in July 1941, would struggle unsuccessfully to bridge.

At this point, Japanese–American relations were already severely strained. Four years of war in China, Japan’s alignment with Germany and Italy, and growing American economic pressure had narrowed the space for compromise. Yet neither side regarded war as inevitable in June 1941. Diplomacy continued, but increasingly as a race against time, shaped by internal political constraints and strategic calculations.

In Tokyo, the central question was whether Japan could secure its objectives, especially access to vital resources, without provoking war with the United States. The Japanese made efforts to secure long term oil delivery contracts through the Dutch East Indies. However it was not purely a commercial proposal, the request while offering preferred trading status to the Dutch East Indies also required recognition of Japan’s territorial gains and regional leadership. The Dutch rejected any agreement that implied political concessions or recognition of Japanese expansion in China or Southeast Asia. They coordinated closely with the United States and Britain, aligning Dutch policy with the broader Allied strategy of economic pressure. After Japan’s move into southern Indochina, the Dutch joined the asset freezes and export controls, effectively ending meaningful oil sales to Japan. 

For Japanese leaders, the Dutch refusal was decisive. It confirmed that no major Western power would break ranks to supply oil. It reinforced the military argument that Japan must seize the oil fields rather than negotiate for access. By late summer 1941, Japanese planning explicitly assumed that oil would be taken by force if diplomacy failed.

In Washington, the question was whether Japan could be deterred from further expansion without concessions that would undermine U.S. commitments to its alliance partners: China, Britain, and the Netherlands.

Outline of National Priorities

The decisive turning point on the Japanese side came at the Liaison Conference of June 27–30, 1941, attended by civilian leaders, Army and Navy chiefs, and senior bureaucrats. This body coordinated policy between the government and the military and effectively set the framework for subsequent diplomacy. The conference produced the document titled “Outline of National Priorities in View of the Changing Situation.” When is this in time? It is before the Japanese move into Southern Indochina and the subsequent financial freeze and de facto oil embargo.

The significance of the document lay not in operational details but in its strategic logic. The core assumption of the “Outline of National Priorities” were:

  • The European war favored Japan in the short term, as Britain was stretched and Germany appeared dominant.
  • The United States was the primary long-term threat, due to its industrial capacity and naval power.
  • Japan must secure the resources of Southeast Asia, especially oil, to sustain both the China war and national defense.
  • Diplomacy should be pursued—but without sacrificing core objectives, especially Japan’s position in China.

The document endorsed a dual-track policy: (1) continue negotiations with the United States and (2) preparations for military expansion southward if diplomacy failed. Importantly, the conference concluded that waiting passively risked strangulation through economic pressure. This logic framed all subsequent diplomatic negotiations.

The “Outline” was handled as a confidential document that was never transmitted via diplomatic cables and so the U.S. was unable to intercept and decode. While the U.S. decision makers never saw the “Outline”, through other MAGIC intercepts of Tokyo–Washington diplomatic instructions, U.S. officials inferred Japan’s strategic direction, deadlines, and bargaining posture. Messages revealed that Japan was operating under time pressure, that negotiations had implicit deadlines, and that military preparations were proceeding in parallel with diplomacy. These intercepts conveyed the effects of the Outline: rigidity on China, insistence on economic relief, willingness to risk war. but not its formal articulation or internal debates.

June was also an important month in that Germany invaded the Soviet Union on June 22, 1941 requiring Japanese leaders to reassess their strategic options. With the Soviet threat temporarily reduced as they turned to the West to face the German advance, Japanese attention shifted decisively south. In early July, another Liaison Conference approved the occupation of southern French Indochina, a move that went far beyond earlier deployments in northern Indochina. 

The decision of the Liaison Conference to advance into southern French Indochina was formally presented to, and approved by, the Emperor at an Imperial Conference on July 2, 1941. At that Imperial Conference, the government and military placed before Emperor Hirohito the policy resolution that authorized the southern advance into Indochina, continued diplomacy with the United States and Britain, and simultaneous preparation for possible war should diplomacy fail. The Emperor gave his assent, making the move into southern Indochina official state policy. Although well after the fact and Japan’s move into Southern Indochina, on August 8th MAGIC intercepted a message detailing the decision of the July 2nd Imperial Conference.

Although presented diplomatically as a stabilizing measure, it was widely understood by Tokyo and Washington alike as a direct threat to British Malaya and the Dutch East Indies. The American response was swift and severe: Japanese assets in the U.S. were frozen and oil exports effectively ceased. For Japanese leaders, this was a shock. While economic pressure had been anticipated, the scale and immediacy of the oil cutoff transformed diplomacy from a matter of advantage into one of national survival. The oil cutoff intensified internal divisions:

  • The Army argued that Japan had little choice but to prepare for war. Prolonged negotiation would only weaken Japan’s position.
  • The Navy warned that war with the United States was unwinnable in the long term but concluded that if war was unavoidable, it should be fought sooner rather than later.
  • Prime Minister Konoe Fumimaro sought a diplomatic breakthrough, including a personal summit with President Roosevelt, but lacked the authority to compel military compromise.

Throughout July and August, Liaison Conferences repeatedly reaffirmed the need to continue negotiations while accelerating military preparations, an inherently unstable posture.


Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archive.

The Conversation: Part 2

This coming weekend is the 3rd Sunday of Lent. In the previous post we went into great detail about the first part of the conversation between Jesus and the Samaritan woman (thru John 4:15). Now we will continue to dive into the details in order to unpack this amazing narrative.

16 Jesus said to her, “Go call your husband and come back.” 17 The woman answered and said to him, “I do not have a husband.” Jesus answered her, “You are right in saying, ‘I do not have a husband.’ 18 For you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true.” 19 The woman said to him, “Sir, I can see that you are a prophet. 20 Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain; but you people say that the place to worship is in Jerusalem.” 21 Jesus said to her, “Believe me, woman, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. 22 You people worship what you do not understand; we worship what we understand, because salvation is from the Jews. 23 But the hour is coming, and is now here, when true worshipers will worship the Father in Spirit and truth; and indeed the Father seeks such people to worship him. 24 God is Spirit, and those who worship him must worship in Spirit and truth.” 25 The woman said to him, “I know that the Messiah is coming, the one called the Anointed; when he comes, he will tell us everything.” 26 Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking with you.”

Go call your husband. Jesus introduces a new topic in v.16 possibly to provide a fresh angle on his identity: Jesus said to her, “Go call your husband and come back.”  Prior to this, Jesus’ invitation to the woman was couched in the metaphor of living water. Now Jesus’ invitation will be grounded in the woman’s own life.

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When Worship and Life Drift Apart

Both readings today speak with a sharpness that may unsettle us but it is the sharpness of a physician’s scalpel, not a weapon. God is not condemning for the sake of condemning. He is calling His people back to integrity, back to a faith that is lived and not merely displayed.

Through the prophet Isaiah, God addresses leaders who are very religious on the surface. They offer sacrifices. They observe rituals. They show up for worship. And yet God says something shocking: “I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity.” In other words, religious activity has become disconnected from moral conversion.

So God does not ask for more prayer, more offerings, or more public devotion. Instead, He says: “Wash yourselves clean. Put away your misdeeds. Learn to do good. Make justice your aim.” God is not rejecting worship. He is rejecting worship that does not change how people live.

Jesus makes the same point in the Gospel from Matthew, though He directs it squarely at religious leaders. The scribes and Pharisees know the law. They teach correctly. But Jesus says they “do not practice what they teach.” Faith has become something they perform rather than embody.

Jesus’ concern is not with leadership itself, but with leadership that seeks recognition instead of responsibility. Titles, honors, places of importance—these become substitutes for humility. And when faith becomes about being seen, it quietly stops being about being faithful.

At the heart of both readings is a single question God asks every generation:
Does your worship shape your life or does it simply decorate it?

God desires a people whose prayer leads to justice, whose knowledge of the law leads to mercy, and whose closeness to God leads to humility. That is why Jesus ends with a simple but demanding truth: “Whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

Humility, in Scripture, is not thinking less of ourselves it is living honestly before God, allowing Him to align our words, our worship, and our actions. It is choosing consistency over appearance, conversion over comfort, obedience over applause.

Today’s readings invite us to examine not how religious we appear, but how deeply our faith is shaping our daily choices: how we speak, how we forgive, how we treat the vulnerable, and how we seek God when no one is watching.

If we are willing to listen, God still speaks the same promise Isaiah proclaimed: “If you are willing, and obey, you shall eat the good things of the land.”

Not because we performed well but because we allowed our hearts to be changed.


Image credit: CANVA, “a sailboat adrift” AI generated, downloaded Mar-1-2026

Dialogue within Japan

The previous posts focused on the internal dialogue within the United States government during the period January into June, 1941. The focus was limited to the Departments of State, Treasury, Army (War) and Navy; the office of the President of the United States; and even included independent non-governmental agents helping/confusing depending on one’s perspective. The positions and approaches on how to best engage the Japanese government were varied, sometimes inconsistent, and largely reactive to Japanese actions. The State Department under the leadership of Cordell Hull consistently advanced Hull’s “Four Principles” which were end-states of diplomacy without interim checkpoints and thus lacking in measured concrete progress. Within the Far East Division of State there were proponents of assertive action and response as well as those who wanted to always engage Japan diplomatically. The Treasury Department was largely “let’s use the financial tools available” and bring Japan’s aggression to heal. But, from that same department, the White Proposal took an approach which addressed material and non-materials concerns of Japan in measured and concrete ways. And then there was the President, Franklin D. Roosevelt, who preferred one-on-one meetings between leaders to make decisions.

That was a high-level view of the milieu in the U.S. What about in Japan?

Japan’s Internal Debates on the United States 

In the first half of 1941 the idea of war between Japan and the U.S. was not considered inevitable or even desirable. It was a period of strategic uncertainty, factional rivalry, economic anxiety, and diplomatic improvisation within Tokyo. Although Japan had already been at war in China for nearly four years, its leadership remained divided on how to consider the United States. Should they should be deterred, negotiated with, or ultimately confronted. Between January and June 1941, the Japanese government under Prime Minister Fumimaro Konoe wrestled with three interlocking questions:

  1. Could the China War be ended on terms acceptable to Japan?
  2. Should Japan align more deeply with Germany?
  3. Could conflict with the United States be avoided without abandoning imperial gains on mainland Asia? During the first half of 1941 this meant Manchuria, parts of Northern China, every major sea port in China, Taiwan (Formosa), Korea, and Northern French Indochina (North Vietnam)

The answers varied depending on whether one looked at political leaders, diplomats, or the armed services.

Political Circles: Konoe and the Problem of Survival

Prime Minister Konoe presided over a fragile civilian government increasingly overshadowed by military influence. In part by Meiji Constitution and in part by practice, the military occupied a minimum of four cabinet positions (Army, Navy, Army Minister, Navy Minister). If any one of them objected to a government policy or proposal, they simply resigned. This meant the Prime Minister had to form a new government and, as often was the case, the military refused to assign a new cabinet member until it received assurances that decisions would be in their favor. The Prime Minister had to navigate these waters.

Politically, three broad positions existed within the political arena: the pragmatists, the hardliners, and the diplomats. Prime Minister Konoe, cabinet members outside the military, leaders of key industries and others formed the “Pragmatists” view. They recognized Japan’s strategic weakness relative to the United States, especially in industrial capacity and oil supply. They favored:

  • Continued negotiations with Washington
  • A possible summit between Konoe and Roosevelt
  • Limited concessions (e.g., partial withdrawal from China under conditions)
  • Avoiding a two-front confrontation while Germany was at war with Britain

This group did not advocate abandoning imperial gains, but rather modulating expansion to avoid provoking U.S. intervention. However, Konoe’s weakness was structural. The military retained constitutional autonomy, and he lacked the authority to compel strategic compromise on their part, and sometimes to even control the military.

Right-wing politicians and ideological nationalists formed the group of “Hardliners” and by-in-large had the support of key elements within the military. The hardliners framed U.S. pressure and especially its support for China, as hostile interference in Japan’s rightful sphere. While not yet uniformly calling for immediate war, they increasingly depicted confrontation as inevitable. They argued that:

  • The United States’ goal was to strategically control Japan economically, tightening or loosing controls as needed until Japan complied with U.S. demands.
  • The Sino-Japanese War must be seen through to a political reordering of East Asia in which Japan established its own version of the Monroe Document. As the U.S. did in Central America and the Caribbean to eliminate despots and bandits, so too was China doing in China where war lords and the Chinese communists were disrupting peace and Japanese interests.
  • Any retreat from already achieved mainland Asia gains would undermine imperial prestige and internal cohesion and ultimately lead to losing it all.

The Diplomatic Circles were mostly associated with the Japanese Foreign Ministry. Unlike the U.S. where Cordell Hull had been in charge of the nation’s diplomacy, from 1930 until the end of 1941 Japan had ten different Foreign Ministers serving in 13 different cabinets. The high turnover reflected the instability of Japanese politics, the growing influence of the military, and the intensifying internal divisions over diplomacy toward China, the Tripartite Pact, and negotiations with the United States. Within the Foreign Ministry, debate was intense and more nuanced than often assumed and was not always clear to U.S. leaders who depended on Ambassador Joseph Grew whose connections were with the moderate wing of the government and was not always able to discern the shifting alliances and currents within the Japanese government. 

Within Tokyo some diplomats favored a modus vivendi, a temporary freeze on expansion into other Asian countries in exchange for economic relief. Others believed U.S. policy was fundamentally hostile and would not accept Japan’s position in China under any conditions other than full withdrawal. An intrinsic problem was always China because Japan’s government was always reacting to independent decisions being made in China by the Imperial Japanese Army (IJA). Japan never had a policy or “end game” for China. As a result, diplomats lacking concrete instructions were often negotiating without authority or substance regarding the central issue: China. 

When Admiral Nomura was sent to Washington DC, he was sent without instructions regarding any aspect of U.S.-Japanese relations and trouble spots – and yet was expected to steer the relationship away from confrontation with the U.S.  Nomura, who had spent extensive time in the U.S. believed that war with the U.S. would be catastrophic. As a result his default position was incremental compromise to stabilize relationships and renormalize trade. This likely created the environment where Nomura was drawn into the Maryknoll/John Doe dialogue and then later private negotiations with Secretary Hull. The effect was 6 months passed and U.S.-Japanese relations were as they had been since the beginning of 1941.

Debate within the Imperial Army and Navy

The most consequential debates occurred within the armed forces, particularly between the Imperial Japanese Army (IJA) and the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN). The Army remained focused primarily on securing victory in China and guarding against Soviet Union incursion into Manchuria (the northern strategy). However, after Germany invaded the Soviet Union in June 1941, Army factions renewed the debate about striking north into Siberia while the Soviets were occupied on the eastern front.

Even before June, many Army leaders believed economic strangulation by the U.S. would force Japan’s hands to launch offensive military action to the resource-rich Southwest Pacific. That said, in early 1941 the Army had not yet finalized a decision for war with the United States but knew that the southern expansion would increase the likelihood of war with the Americans.

The Navy’s position was paradoxical and was increasingly the more important voice from military circles. Senior naval leaders recognized U.S. industrial superiority., understood a long war would likely end in Japanese defeat, and yet believed that if war came, it must begin with a decisive blow to take the U.S. out of the conflict for a period while Japan consolidated gains in the south and created a defensive zone to the east against the U.S. fleet. In early 1941, many in the Navy preferred avoiding war if possible but in any case to have more time for adequate preparation. 

But there was a contingent of naval officers that understood the U.S. was in the midst of  building a two-ocean navy with the 1940 signing of the Naval Expansion Act. The act authorized the U.S. Navy to build 18 aircraft carriers, 7 battleships, 33 cruisers, 115 destroyers, 43 submarines, 15,000 aircraft, and 100,000 tons of auxiliaries. It was thought that a surprise attack was necessary, but the policy was not settled.

Economic Realities and Strategic Anxiety

Among all the groups, a central driver of debate was oil. Japan imported roughly 80% of its oil from the United States. By early 1941 U.S. export controls were tightening, Japanese reserves were finite and economic planners warned of severe vulnerability as the military operations continued to draw down oil reserves. The strategic dilemma became increasingly stark:

  • Concede in China to preserve economic survival?
  • Or seize resource-rich Southeast Asia (Dutch East Indies) and risk U.S. war?

This tension simmered throughout the first half of 1941 but did not fully crystallize until after July.

By June 1941, Japan had not yet decided on war with the United States. Japan’s internal debate was characterized by:

  • Political fragility within Konoe’s government
  • Diplomatic efforts lacking decisive authority
  • Military contingency planning without full consensus
  • Growing anxiety over economic vulnerability

The period was one of conditional escalation rather than inevitability. War became likely only when the internal  debates (oil, China, and southern expansion) collapsed into a consensus after the summer crisis of 1941: the invasion of Southern French Indochina and the subsequent U.S. economic freeze and oil embargo. Any settlement that required major withdrawal was politically impossible at home in Japan.


Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archive. |

The Conversation: Part 1

This coming weekend is the 3rd Sunday of Lent. In the previous post we delved into all might be implied in the simple opening which tells us where and when. We raised the question of whether it was simple geographical information or was St. John providing theological clues and breadcrumbs. Now we begin to consider the dialogue that ensues. The dialogue between Jesus and the Samaritan woman consists of thirteen exchanges, one of the longest dialogues in the Gospel. It is divided into two sections, each section introduced by a request/command by Jesus: (I ) vv.7-15 (“Give me a drink”); (2) vv.16-26 (“Go, call your husband”).

Verse 7 is filled with OT images that figure prominently in the rest of the narrative: “A woman of Samaria came to draw water. Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” First, Jesus’ request for water recalls the story of Elijah and the widow of Sidon (1 Kgs 17:10-11). In both stories a man interrupts a woman engaged in household work to request a gesture of hospitality. The parallels between Elijah and Jesus suggest the image of Jesus as prophet, a theme that will occupy a pivotal place in Jesus’ conversation with the woman (4:19).

Second, the scene of a man and a woman at a well recalls the betrothal stories of Isaac (Gen 24:10-61), Jacob (Gen 29:1-20), and Moses (Ex 2:15b 21). John 4:4-42 evokes these betrothal stories in order to rework their imagery, however. The story of the wedding feast (2:1-11) and John the Baptist’s parable (3:29) have already introduced wedding imagery into the Fourth Gospel as images of eschatological joy and fulfillment. It is in that context that the messianic/bridal symbolism has credence. Unlike the OT well scenes, Jesus does not come to the well looking for a woman to be his bride, but for a witness who will recognize the Messiah and bring the marginalized and despised people to faith in Him. In the fact that a Samaritan woman becomes that witness (vv.28-30, 39-42).

The Samaritan woman responds to Jesus’ request with amazement because it violates two societal conventions. First, a Jewish man did not initiate conversation with an unknown woman. Moreover, a Jewish teacher did not engage in public conversation with a woman (“Hence the sages have said: He that talks much with womankind brings evil upon himself and neglects the study of the law and at the last will inherit Gehenna.” p.’Abot 1:5) Second, Jews did not invite contact with Samaritans. The Fourth Evangelist’s aside in v.9 underscores the seriousness of the breach between Jews and Samaritans. A fear of ritual contamination developed into a prohibition of all social interaction.

Instead of answering the woman’s question directly, Jesus invites her to answer her question herself (“If you knew…”). If the woman could recognize the identity of the person with whom she speaks, a dramatic role reversal will take place. The woman would be the one who requests water. “Living water” (hydor zon). As with ańothen from the encounter with Nicodmus, hydor zon has two possible meanings. It can mean fresh, running water (spring water as opposed to water from a cistern), or it can mean living/life-giving water. Once again, Jesus intentionally uses a word with a double meaning..

The Samaritan woman hears only the meaning “running water” in Jesus’ words and so responds to his offer of living water with protests of logical and material impossibility (cf. Nicodemus, 3:4). It is not credible to her that a man who has just asked her for water because he was unable to acquire any for himself should now offer her fresh running water (v.11 a). Her protest leads to a question, “Where then can you get that hydor zon?” (v.11b). This question, like other questions about the origins of Jesus’ gifts (1:29; 2:9; 3:8; 6:5), is ironically charged. The question operates on two levels simultaneously—it makes sense to ask a man with no bucket where he will get water, but the question can also be asked of Jesus’ gift of living water. The irony arises because the reader knows the appropriateness of the question on both levels, but the woman is wary – still clinging to the practical (bucket/deep), but perhaps possessing a sense of the greater things in play (living water).

The woman’s question in v.12 (Are you greater than our father Jacob) is a universally recognized instance of Johannine irony. The immediate source of its irony is clear: for the Fourth Evangelist and most of his readers, Jesus is greater than Jacob, while the woman seems to assume the opposite. (The question is introduced by the interrogative in the Greek text, a construction that anticipates a negative reply: “You are not greater than Jacob, are you?” (cf. 8:53)). Since Jesus has no visible means with which to draw water, the woman’s question seems to imply that only a miracle similar to the one tradition attributed to Jacob at Haran could produce the water. The woman’s response to Jesus is a challenge to match the gift of one of the great forebears of the faith.

Jesus responds to the woman’s challenge by focusing on the permanent effect of the two waters on thirst. Jacob’s gift may have been miraculous and its abundance legendary, but it could not assuage thirst permanently (v.13). Jesus’ gift of living water will, however, do just that (v.14): but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life. 

The contrast between the two waters recalls Isa 55:1-2 (“everyone who thirsts,/ come to the waters”). Jesus’ description of his gift of water in v.14 clarifies the meaning of the expression “living water”: Jesus offers water that gives life. Those who drink from Jesus’ water “will never thirst” (lit., “will not be thirsty forever”), because his water will become “in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” (v.14). In John 7:37-39 Jesus’ gift of living water is associated with the gift of the Spirit, and it is possible to see that connection in v.14 as well.

The Samaritan woman responds enthusiastically to Jesus’ words (v.15a), but her enthusiasm misses the point. The motivation for her request—that she would no longer have to come back to the well (v.15b)—shows that she has not yet grasped the radical nature of Jesus’ gifts. She continues to see Jesus through her categories of physical thirst and miraculous springs, and so she does not understand the meaning of his “living water.” Her request is ironic to the reader, because it is the right request for the wrong reasons (cf. 6:34).

On the one hand, then, v.15 sounds a note of failure. Although by her request for water the Samaritan woman is seemingly doing what Jesus had earlier said she should do (v.10) – yet she does not know for what she is asking or of whom she is asking it. She thinks that Jesus is a miracle worker who can provide her with extraordinary water. Her misperception is the source of the irony of her response for the reader, because the conversation has led the reader to see that something more is at stake in these verses.

On the other hand, v.15 sounds a note of hope, however embryonic: 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.” The woman has gained considerable ground in this conversation. She has moved from seeing Jesus as a thirsty Jew who knowingly violates social convention to seeing him as someone whose gifts she needs. At the beginning of the conversation, Jesus’ words about living water seemed preposterous to her, empty boasts by a man without a bucket (v.11), but in v.15, she believes that Jesus can give water that will assuage her thirst. The woman’s openness to Jesus and her willingness to engage him in conversation stand in marked contrast to Nicodemus, who only greeted Jesus with amazement and resistance (3:4, 9). The Samaritan woman recognizes neither Jesus’ true identity nor the fullness of his gifts, but in v.15, she is willing to receive what she thinks he is offering and hence to acknowledge her need of him.


Christ and the Woman of Samaria | Pierre Mignard, 1681 | The North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh | PD

A Litany for Our Life

What did you take away from today’s readings?  Before reading on, take a moment. Click on the link and peruse the readings for today. What are the one or two notions or ideas that stand out for you? We’ll wait…

The first reading is largely a confession of sin, a lament and recounting of all that the people of God have done that led to the Babylonian Exile and the ensuing tribulation. It is a prayer by the prophet Daniel as he meditates on Jeremiah’s prophecy that seventy years would pass while Judah remained desolate and its people captive. As ponders he also does penance and fasts. It is a very Lenten scene.

Daniel offers a prayer that opens with a frank confession of the disobedient sinfulness of the covenant people. Then just beyond the scope of our reading, Daneil recalls God’s graciousness in leading the people out of Egypt and God’s justice in punishing Jerusalem. Then Daniel petitions God to deliver the holy city and the nation that bears God’s name. He does so in a threefold request which is akin to an Old Testament version of Kyrie eleison or “Lord, have mercy.”

The Responsorial Psalm is, in its way, also a frank confession of our sad condition in the valley of tears – we are sinners who acknowledge the justice due to the Lord and yet we hope: “Remember not against us the iniquities of the past; may your compassion quickly come to us. Lord, do not deal with us according to our sins.

Then in the Gospel, after all our pleading, God doesn’t not recount our sins, does not lecture us on the justice due the Lord, the litany from our loving God is this: Be merciful…stop judging…forgive. Do these things and “Give and gifts will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing.

A litany for life: Be merciful…stop judging…forgive.

Like Daniel, people of Faith are quite good at recounting their sins. But as a priest and confessor it seems to me, like the first reading, we stop short. We fail to recall God’s graciousness and loyal love. Like the psalmist we are good at asking the Lord to not remember our sins and to be compassionate. And yet, even when forgiven, we are a people who not only recall our failures, but dwell on them, failing to let the compassion of the Lord infuse our souls in a way that we are able to be compassionate with ourselves.

Be merciful…stop judging…forgive. We are better at doing that for others than ourselves as though it is a litany for every life except our own.

Be merciful…stop judging…forgive. These are Jesus’ words, akin to a divine version of Kyrie eleison. It is the Lord’s prayer for us about ourselves.


Image credit: “Kyrie Eleison” by Soichi Watanabe, Japan; used with permission

The White Plan

I wonder how many readers know the name “Harry Dexter White.” Not a lot I suspect. I know that I didn’t before researching and writing this series. White is best known as the high-ranking U.S. Treasury official and influential economist who served as a primary architect of the postwar international financial system. As a key aide to Treasury Secretary Henry Morgenthau Jr., White was the creative mind that led to the creation of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank agreed to at the 1944 Bretton Woods Conference. He served as the first U.S. executive director of the IMF in 1946. He was accused in 1948 of spying for the Soviet Union, which he adamantly denied. Although he was never a Communist party member, his status as a Soviet informant was confirmed by declassified FBI documents related to the interception and decoding of Soviet communications, known as the Venona Project. Shortly after defending himself against these charges before Congress, White died of a heart attack in August 1948.

…and what does this have to do with the Asia Pacific War? White served as the director of the Division of Monetary Research and later as Assistant Secretary of the Treasury, shaping U.S. financial policy during World War II. In May 1941 he began a draft of a bold proposal to change the direction and tone of U.S. negotiations with Japan. The draft proposal was submitted to Treasury Secretary Morgenthal on June 6, 1941. As part of the submission, the background briefing described White’s view of the pattern of diplomacy that had been the craft of the Secretary of State Hull:

“19th century patterns of petty bargaining with its dependence upon subtle half promises, irritating pin prinks, excursions into double dealing, and copious pronouncements of good will alternating with vague threats – and all of it veiled in an atmosphere of high secrecy designed or at least serving chiefly to hide the essential bareness of achievement…Where modern diplomacy calls for swift and bold action, we engage in long drawn out cautious negotiations; where we should talk in terms of billions of dollars, we think in terms of millions; where we should measure success by the generosity of the government that can best afford it, we measure it by the sharpness of the bargain driven; where we should be dealing with all embracing economic, political and social problems, we discuss minor trade objectives or small national advantages; instead of squarely facing realities, we persist in enjoying costly prejudices; where we should speak openly and clearly, we engage in protocol, in secret schemes and subtleties.”

To put it mildly, he was not a fan of Hull’s modus operandi. From his position at Treasury he had watched 4 years of ineffective diplomacy as the nation moved closer to war. White believed it was time for boldness and one that addressed Japan’s interests more broadly than “stop aggression.”

The White Plan

Drafted before the de facto oil embargo and before Japan’s move into southern Indochina, Washington still hoped to avoid war through phased de-escalation. Perhaps the key feature of the June draft of the White Plan was that there was no demand for immediate and total Japanese withdrawal from China. The draft indicated that a gradual, staged withdrawal, tied to restoration of peace in China and stabilization of East Asia was acceptable.  Implicitly, if not explicitly, the draft offered continued recognition of Japan’s existing position in Manchuria. The tone and emphasis was on non-aggression, respect for national sovereignty, and equal commercial opportunity in the region. To that end, the draft proposed that Japan would halt further expansion and that the U.S. would resume trade, including oil, under controlled conditions. The plan anticipated a multilateral framework involving China and other powers, but without forcing immediate regime change or humiliation of the current aggressive Japanese governing system. This version assumed that China policy could evolve over time and that Japan might be persuaded to disengage without losing face.

The June draft’s resumption of trade envisioned a restoration of the U.S.–Japanese trade, including strategic materials; unfreezing of Japanese assets under controlled conditions; renewed Japanese access to dollar earnings through exports so as to reduce pressure on the yen and improved Japan’s balance-of-payments position which was becoming an increasingly unmanageable problem. White’s draft reflected the belief that some economic relief could reinforce moderation in Japanese policy and give any moderate element in the Japanese government some leverage during internal debates. From a trade perspective the language of the June draft reveals White’s view that U.S. policy was treating Japan as a second tier power rather than a negotiating partner – which was a Japanese complaint for all of the 20th century up to 1941. White’s thinking was incremental: first stabilize behavior, then normalize trade and only then consider deeper financial engagement. Hull’s policy had been complete agreement on the end game without incremental stages along the way.

One of the elements in a May 1941 draft that was dropped after discussions with Morgenthal was a substantial line of credit. Morgenthal and other Treasury officials were cautious because a line of credit before stabilized behavior could be seen as subsidizing Japanese aggression. Also, in general Congress and public opinion were hostile to aiding Japan. And so the idea of loans or a line-of-credit was deliberately removed to preserve the possibility of future financial assistance after some evidence that Japanese behavior in the region was stabilized and some level of trade was restored with existing Japanese assets. The Treasury leadership wanted maximum leverage with minimal commitment. But it is also an indication of the thinking that was not constrained by Secretary Hull’s less-than-flexible process of diplomacy.

Another element of the May draft that was removed: modification of the 1924 Immigration Act: specifically, removal of the provision that excluded all Japanese from immigrating to the U.S and then setting quotas for Japanese as had been set with other nations. This was a major issue of honor for Japan, but by the summer of 1941 was a non-starter for the American public and Congress.

When the June draft was forwarded from the Treasury Department to the Far East Division with the State Department, who quickly endorsed it and adapted it into diplomatic language. It was then circulated through the War and Navy Departments for review and comment.

This was the first wave of reviews, strike outs, revisions, and rewording by various groups, departments, and leaders. Long story told short: in the end the intent of the original author had disappeared and the document morphed into another version of Cordell Hull’s “four principles.”  Perhaps its weakness was its radical departure from previous and current U.S. diplomatic engagements and the associated uncertainty of how it would be received. Not in content, but in motivation. Would it appear that the U.S. was trying to appease Japan because it feared combat in the Pacific? If the U.S. would offer this, would Japan assume that if pressed, there might be more that the U.S. was prepared to offer?

Would the original White Proposal have made a difference? Hard to say.


Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archive. | Source credit: Going to War with Japan: 1937-1941, Jonathan Utley

Jesus’ arrival at the well

This coming weekend is the 3rd Sunday of Lent. In the previous post we quickly reviewed the religious and political history of the Samaritans in order to place this story in stark contrast to what came before: when Jesus spoke with Nicodemus (3:1-21), he spoke with a named male of the Jewish religious establishment, a “teacher of Israel.” When Jesus speaks to the Samaritan woman, he speaks with an unnamed female of an enemy people.

 5 So he came to a town of Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of land that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. 6 Jacob’s well was there. Jesus, tired from his journey, sat down there at the well. It was about noon.

As O’Day [565] notes, the introduction provides the setting for the narrative. Verse 4 links the Samaritan text to vv.1-3; to get from Judea to Galilee (4:3), Jesus “had to go through Samaria.” Scholars are divided on whether the necessity of this Samaritan journey is strictly geographical or has theological overtones. The geographical necessity of the trip is supported by Josephus who notes that the most expedient route from Judea to Galilee during the first century was through Samaria; however, there is ample support to indicate crossing the Jordan so as to not enter Samaria was also routine. The word translated as “had to” (edei), however, usually is associated in the Fourth Gospel with God’s plan (e.g., 3:14, 30; 9:4). It seems best, therefore, to read the necessity of the journey through Samaria as both geographical and theological. Jesus’ itinerary may have been governed by geographical expediency, but his stay in Samaria was governed by the theological necessity of offering himself to those whom social convention deemed unacceptable.

Verses 5-6 provide a detailed description of the location of Jesus’ conversation with the woman. This description is important because of the OT imagery in which the geography is couched. The references to Jacob and his well introduce the patriarchal traditions that will figure prominently in the conversation between Jesus and the Samaritan woman (vv.11-14). The description of Jesus’ arrival at the well (v.6b) also establishes the conditions of his request for water in v.7. Jesus was tired from his journey, and he arrived at the well in the heat of the day (“about noon;” lit. “about the sixth hour”).

Eisegesis is the process of (mis)interpreting a text in such a way that it introduces one’s own ideas into and on top of the text. It is difficult to know what to make of the literal expression “the sixth hour.” In John’s narrative, when he points to a specific hour it is an indication that he wants the reader to pay close attention. What is not clear is why this encounter between Jesus and the woman happens midday. The women of the developing world typically see the timing of the meeting as a sign that the woman is an outcast in her own village. Water is usually drawn from the well at sunrise and sunset, outside the heat of the day. It is the place/time when women gather to meet, chat and have community. Someone who comes at noon to draw water is either avoiding the others, is unwelcomed to the community of women, has been formerly shunned, or just happens to need water at that time of day. Eisegesis is to insist on one of the first three choices. And that may well be the correct reading, but exegesis (following where the text leads) is always preferable.


Christ and the Woman of Samaria | Pierre Mignard, 1681 | The North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh | PD

Who are the Samaritans?

This coming weekend is the 3rd Sunday of Lent. In the previous post we refreshed our understanding of the encounter between Nicodemus and Jesus as a prelude to the encounter with the Samaritan Women.

In John 4:4-42, Jesus’ ministry enters a new stage. He leaves the confines of traditional Judaism and turns to those whom his Jewish contemporaries reckoned as outsiders and enemies: the Samaritans. The breach between Jews and Samaritans can be traced to 10 of the 12 tribes of Israel withdrawing from the throne of David in Jerusalem upon the death of King Solomon. They formed a competing confederation building a new capital city and a new temple (Mt. Gerizim), claiming that this was the true place of worship of God. To the people of the south (Judah) they were traitors and heretics. 

When the Assyrian Empire conquered the north some 200 years after the division (721 BCE; see 2 Kings 17), there was likely little sympathy in the south. But it was 500 years later that the rivalry intensified when the armies of Judah marched north and destroyed the Temple at Gerizim. It did little but to deepen and inflame the divisions as witnessed in John 4:9: “For Jews use nothing in common with Samaritans.”

When Jesus meets the Samaritan woman at the well, he meets someone who stands in marked contrast to all that has come before in this gospel. When Jesus spoke with Nicodemus (3:1-21), he spoke with a named male of the Jewish religious establishment, a “teacher of Israel.” When Jesus speaks to the Samaritan woman, he speaks with an unnamed female of an enemy people.

This long passage of the encounter at the well consists of two main blocks of conversation (vv.7-26, Jesus and the Samaritan woman, and vv.31-38, Jesus and his disciples) surrounded by their narrative frames. The structure of the text can be outlined as follows:

4:4-6 Introduction: Jesus’ arrival at the well
4:7-26 Conversation between Jesus and the Samaritan woman
4:27-30 Transition: Arrival of the disciples and departure of the woman
4:31-38 Conversation between Jesus and his disciples
4:39-42 Conclusion: Jesus and the Samaritan townspeople


Christ and the Woman of Samaria | Pierre Mignard, 1681 | The North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh | PD