Misrepresented: The Samaritan Woman, Mary Magdalene, and Women in Scripture
Updated: Aug 7
Have you ever felt misrepresented?
Cast in a negative light that you don’t belong in?
A scapegoat for someone else’s sins?
Have you ever felt less than for being a woman, a wife, or a stay-at-home mother?
Maybe you are living inside of an abusive marriage that leaves no physical bruises but is actively wounding your soul,
only to be told to submit better, pray more, forgive again, or let your husband lead.
Or worse—maybe you are called overly sensitive, emotional, or irrational… unbelieved.
If that stirs something in you, it should.
Because this isn’t just personal—it’s something deeper.
And in many cases, it is reinforced by how Scripture is interpreted and taught.
As I study the Bible, I have come across multiple stories of women that I’ve heard taught in ways that cast them into a negative light. But when I dug deeper into the Scriptures, the culture, and the history, the perception of these women did not match what I found.
And once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
The Samaritan Woman: What Does the Text Actually Say?
One example is the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4.
When I have heard teachings on this portion of Scripture, she is portrayed as a promiscuous woman—someone with multiple husbands, now living with a man she is sleeping with but not married to.
Sure, if you read the text through Western eyes, or through certain theological lenses, you can arrive at those conclusions.
But that doesn’t mean those conclusions are coming from the text.
And just like when women go to church leadership looking for safety and accountability over an abusive husband—
and are instead shamed, guilted, and unbelieved for the sake of “marriage” and the image of man; many people have assumed a particular narrative about the Samaritan woman that may not be as clear in the text as we have been led to believe.
When we slow down and consider the historical and cultural context, the story begins to look more complex than the version many of us were taught.
Filling in the Blanks
During Christ’s time, women were not allowed to divorce their husbands for any reason.
Only a man could issue a certificate of divorce—for virtually any reason he saw fit.
During this time, women often had no means of support outside of living with a man who could work and provide. If a woman’s husband died and there were no heirs, she could be passed down to the next brother in line.
Women were looked down upon if they were widowed or divorced.
So when we read this text, we need to slow down.
The text does not say what happened to her five husbands.
It does not say why she had five.
It does not tell us who the man is she is currently living with—only that he is not her husband.
And yet we fill in the blanks.
When we remove the interpretive lens that protects men and places blame on women, this story starts to feel very different.
Why is she so often turned into a warning?
Why is she labeled as promiscuous when the text never says that?
That assumption isn’t coming from Scripture—it’s being added to it.
A more historically honest explanation is far less convenient.
She could have been widowed.
Rejected.
Passed from one household to another.
Living in a situation not out of desire, but out of survival.
We cannot know for certain. But neither can we know for certain that she was the immoral woman she is so often portrayed to be.
Which means we may have been misreading her entirely.
Perhaps not as a woman primarily defined by sexual sin, but as a woman whose life had been marked by hardship, loss, rejection, or circumstances beyond her control.
And if that were the case, it would make sense why Jesus does not confront her the way He does others.
Because He does not say, “Go and sin no more.”
He speaks to her differently.
That should make us pause.
What Jesus Actually Does
Instead, He reveals His identity to her.
He gives her a prophetic word about her life—not to shame her, but to show her:
I see you. I know your life. I am for you.
He offers her living water—Himself—as the answer, not condemnation.
And her response?
She leaves her water jar and runs into Samaria to tell the men about the man who told her everything about her life.
And they listen.
So we have to ask:
If she was truly the town’s promiscuous outcast, why would the men listen to her?
Because the story we've been told... doesn't match the story that's actually written.
Mary Magdalene and the Weight of Tradition
And this is not the only place this happens.
Take Mary Magdalene.
She is historically taught as a prostitute.
And yet Scripture NEVER gives her that label.
Not once.
What it does say is that she had seven demons cast out of her (Luke 8:2), she became a faithful follower of Jesus, was among the women who supported His ministry financially, and she was the first witness of the risen Christ.
That’s it.
So where did everything else come from?
The Bible does not say how or why she had seven demons. And throughout the New Testament, Jesus casts demons out of many people—yet none of them are labeled as prostitutes.
Is this bothering you yet?
It should.
Because this means that what we are often taught is not coming from the text
—it is coming from tradition.
Mary was clearly precious and important to Jesus. Faithful. Healed. Devoted.
She remained when others fled. She witnessed what others ran from.
If anything, she is a witness—an apostle—and yet her story has been reduced into something it never was.
A Pattern Too Big to Ignore
There is a pattern here.
And sadly, it is not isolated to the West.
All over the world,
women are abused,
treated as property instead of souls,
and devalued as less than men.
But Jesus Christ does not have this view of women.
God repeatedly reveals Himself as the protector of the vulnerable—
the oppressed,
the overlooked,
the ones without power.
And Jesus steps directly out of the flow of society to reach, accept, heal, and love women.
We see it clearly when the Samaritan woman is shocked that Jesus, a Jewish man, would even speak to her.
We see it in a culture where only men could be priests—yet Jesus draws women to be His followers.
And yet, when we step back, we start to see something even more revealing.
Scripture is filled with men who had multiple wives and relationships—Abraham, Jacob, David, Solomon.
Yet we do not reduce them to labels like promiscuous.
We don’t define their entire identity by their relationships.
We allow their stories to remain layered, complex, and human.
But when it comes to women, that same nuance has not always been applied.
One detail.
One ambiguity.
And their entire identity becomes defined by it.
That inconsistency reveals something deeper.
It exposes not the intent of Scripture, but the bias of interpretation.
Why This Matters
And that bias does not stay in the text.
Globally, about one in three women will experience abuse in their lifetime.
And many do not report it—not because it didn’t happen, but because they already know they will not be believed.
Inside the church, the pattern does not always change.
Women who come forward about abuse are often dismissed, blamed, or told to go back and “submit better,” instead of being protected.
When we add false narratives to women in Scripture, we train ourselves to misread women in real life.
And that has consequences.
Because this doesn’t just affect interpretation—it affects people.
It shows up when women in abusive marriages are told to endure instead of being protected.
When their pain is minimized.
When their voices are dismissed.
Their stories rewritten—not by truth—but by tradition.
The Heart of God
But that is not the heart of God.
God is the defender of the vulnerable.
Jesus does not shame women.
He does not silence them.
He does not reduce them to labels.
He sees them.
The way we read Scripture shapes the way we see people.
And the way we see people shapes how we treat them.
That's why this matters.
So the question remains:
Are we handling Scripture in a way that reflects the heart of Christ... or something else?
© Unveiling Truth Ministries
Unveiling Darkness. Exposing Lies. Restoring Truth.
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