Sermon Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?
Living Water
John 4:1-42
February 27, 2022
Read John 4:1-42
This is the Word of the LORD
The woman at the well. I realize this is a long passage to be covering in one sermon. Frankly, we could spend a season in this one chapter alone. It is such an interesting encounter. We are going to go through this only today because I think what is important for us to hear now – this congregation, this community – can be done in overview.
I want to focus your attention on the woman today. In so many ways, this woman is like you and like me. This encounter is so revealing because it highlights how meeting Jesus was so completely transformative in her life; and – spoiler alert – why we ought not be complacent about Jesus in our lives.
There are eight movements in this chapter. We are going to go through them all briefly. Relax: I said briefly. Here are the eight:
- The initial encounter – the setup (v. 1 – 8)
- The initial words – (v. 7-9)
- “Living Water” – (v. 10)
- Her pushback and the lesson – (v. 11 – 15)
- Her brokenness revealed – (v. 16 – 18)
- Her perception that something more was happening (v. 19 – 26)
- The church’s response (v. 27 – 38)
- The woman’s life transformed (v. 39 – 42)
Through these eight steps Jesus took the woman from death to life. The promise of living water is extraordinary. So, let’s begin.
- The setting (4:1-8)
Jesus and the disciples were on the move. Jesus received word that the Pharisees knew about his ministry and the disciples baptizing people. Now was not the time for confrontation with them – that time would come, but it was not now. Jesus left Judea and headed for Galilee. He travelled through Samaria.
Though this seems like an innocent travelogue, it was quite remarkable that Jesus would have chosen this route. Samaria was not friendly territory for a Jew traveling with an entourage of Jews. Think Hatfield’s and McCoy’s. The disciples would have been anxious about Jesus’ safety, their own safety, and not creating some sort of incident.
Frankly, there were racial tensions. According to the Word Biblical Commentary, “The antipathy between Jews and Samaritans was deeply rooted, going back to the origins of the Samaritans as a mixed race, settled in the northern kingdom by the king of Assyria (2 Kings 17:24-41). The Samaritans nevertheless viewed themselves as true Israel and heirs of the promises of God to Israel, and their version of the Pentateuch as the original one, direct from Moses.” (vol. 36, p. 60)
Jesus and the disciples had been walking for hours. It was about noon. Jacob’s well – there’s a story there if you want to go back and look at it – provided a resting place. In short, Jesus sat down in a place hostile to his presence.
It is ironic to describe it that way because Jesus’ entry into the world was very the same thing: in his incarnation, Jesus came to a place hostile to his presence.
“He was in the world, and the world came into being through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him.” (John 1:10-11)
- The initial words (4:7-9)
Then entered the Samaritan woman. She came to the well at noon. Because we are so accustomed to indoor plumbing, we are not aware of the significance of going to the well. It was like the ancient world’s water cooler; yes, you would draw water, but it also served as the hub for information and gossip. Coming at noon meant that you could avoid the crowds, but also the stares and whispers that would come from being the topic of conversation and gossip. Even before we get to the disclosure later in the story, it was clear to ancient listeners that this woman was not from high society or middle-class society or even acceptable society. She was someone who was on the outskirts. She had no life or place in the community.
To the woman’s chagrin, there was a man sitting by the well. Of even greater concern was the fact that the man was not known – thus, not safe – and was by appearance a Jew. Then, the man spoke to her, “Give me a drink.”
The parenthetical found in verse 8 let the reader know that this was something unusual – and it was. Jesus was breaking social barriers and overcoming two Jewish prejudices: as a Jew talking with a Samaritan; and, as a man talking to a woman.
The picture would have been startling to John’s early readers. Because we are so removed from that ancient world’s known context clues, we miss it. The stark contrast in their situations would have made an impression.
“Give me a drink.” To our ears, it sounds a little rude. However, just know that Jesus does not envy or boast; he is not arrogant or rude. In her ears, he was asking. Her response was more that she was surprised, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?”
I want to stop here for a moment because she is just like us. Jesus directs her to give some water. It is mid-day and it is hot. He clearly does not have a bucket. Yet, her first response was to ask, “Why are you asking me?” God asks us to do something and our first response is, why are you asking me? I’m not qualified. I’m not capable. That’s not the kind of thing I do or that I would do. Why are you asking me?
Now, please understand I am not being critical or pointing fingers at anyone. I am simply noting how relatable is this woman. I have had so many conversations with people who tell me how they just want God to tell them what to do; then, “why are you asking me?” when God does.
So that I do not project my own issues onto any of you, let me just say this with confidence: She is just like me.
- “Living Water” (v. 10)
Then, Jesus began to revealed his identity to her. “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” That may have sounded a little cryptic or bohemian to us – and perhaps to her – but he was saying some profound things.
First, he was saying that he was somebody. Oh, how I wish we could hear his tone when he said this: much of the meaning would have been in his voice. On paper, it can come across snarky or elitist or even dismissive. However, it seems like it was more compassionate. He was somebody more than just a Jew because he was acting differently than those that she had previously encountered, heard about, or known.
Second, he was talking about living water – to her mind, fresher and better than well water because it was moving, aerated, and fresher. This is going to be a horrible comparison, but it makes the point. We have two cats and two dogs. Jen and Abby got this little fountain water feeder for the cats. It keeps the water flowing constantly. The cats love it. Well, the dogs have all but abandoned their water dish and go to the fountain because they like it so much better, too. The point is that still water becomes stale and distasteful; active water is so much more refreshing.
Still water becomes stale and distasteful; active water is so much more refreshing.
- Her pushback and the lesson (v. 11-15)
She was not impressed. “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water?” Whether she thought it was a pick-up line or some other kind of nonsense, you can tell that she basically gave him an eye-roll. Her response was effectively, as the kids say, “Whatever.” Then, she added in the pithy line she wanted to tell later when she would recount the story of this weird encounter, “Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” Whoooh! That should put this guy in his place.
At this point, she was relying on what she knew. She looked at the circumstances with eyes on what she could see. This was just plain awkward for her. She came to the well at noon to avoid people, but here was this guy. He was a Jew, but he talked to her. When she was surprised he did not follow the socially accepted protocol, he responded to her initial puzzlement with a baffling answer.
What did John want us to see here? When God showed up, she was not looking or ready. She was going through her daily life in the way she had figured out would make the fewest complications or unpleasant encounters. She was just going about her day, minding her own business.
Now, please understand I am not being critical or pointing fingers at anyone. I am simply noting how relatable is this woman. Most of my own stories about encounters with the Holy Spirit begin with, “There I was, minding my own business, when…”
I can say with confidence: She is just like me.
Jesus persisted. He took her rather snide remark and answered it straight: “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”
Ok, now she begins to perceive that something is really different about this conversation and that Jesus was not talking about water per se. He was talking about something else; something spiritual. She knew the hurt in her own life. What he described sounded awesome – it does sound awesome. As someone who was experiencing the pain of being outcast – its own kind of chronic death – she heard him say that the water he offered led to eternal life.
What is interesting about this is that we often focus on the word “eternal.” She heard “life.” What she longed for – what we often long for – is life. “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.” She was not sure if it was some sort of magic water or what he was specifically saying, but she did know that she wanted what he was offering.
We do not always immediately understand what God reveals to us. We do not get the full plan or picture all at once. Sometimes, it is the invitation to crack a window or door. Sometimes, it is an invitation to take the first step. She jumped at the chance. What he offered sounded so good, she wanted it, whatever it was.
Just like me.
- Her brokenness revealed (v. 16-18)
The next verses sound like many of the conversations I have had with God over my lifetime.
“Go, call your husband and come back.” She answered, “I have no husband.” Because we just read this and it is a familiar enough story that you probably already knew it, you know that she was telling the truth – that is, she was telling the truth insofar as she answered.
We try to spin our facts to make the best possible presentation before God. We know we have to be honest because God does not like lies, but we stand on the facts that are best and stay silent about the facts that make us look bad. She may have thought, “He does not need to know,” or, ironically, “who is he to judge?” I used to tell clients preparing for depositions, “Less is more. Answer only the question that is asked. Don’t volunteer anything.” If she had been my client, I would have thought, “Good girl!”
John does not write this and we do not have any way of knowing, but I would like to think that Jesus laughed – not at her or in a mean way, but as a parent would in conversation with a child. I would like to think that because Jesus clearly loved this dear child. I would like to think that because I would like to think he would treat me with that same tenderness. He stuck with this conversation and it sure looks like she was the reason he came this way through Samaria – to meet her.
He said, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” Can you imagine the look on her face? Can you imagine the shock of this stranger revealing to her that he already knew the deepest hurt in her life? There must have been something so inviting about his presence – some peace that passes all understanding – that she did not simply run away. There must have been because – if she were anything like me – I would have been so flustered that I might have taken flight.
God knows our hurts. He knows our sin. He knows our lives. He knows. He knows. Even our best attempts to sugarcoat things do not fool him. He knows. (Yet we still do it.) Not only does God know, he loves us through all those things.
- Her perception that something more is happening (v. 19-26)
Jesus’ revelation was a game changer. Something was going on here. If this had happened today, she would have been looking around to find the cameras, thinking someone was pranking her.
Her attitude changed. From her response, you know that she knew the Scripture. How well? We do not know. She knew enough though. It was more of a tradition than a deeply held belief. But when she encountered a prophet; well, what then?
“Sir, I see that you are a prophet.” Recognition. Then, she asked an insightful question, “Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you (it is a plural “you”, meaning the Jews) say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” In other words, if you are a Jew and a prophet, why are you here and not in Jerusalem? Were our ancestors right and the Jews wrong? What is the deal?
Jesus dignified a good question with a deep answer. “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You worship what you do not know, we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews.” Interesting. Geography is not the critical thing. For people who had been focused on the Promised land, hearing that geography was not the thing was pretty remarkable.
“But the hour is coming, and is now here, when true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him.” So, not heredity? Not biology or tradition? And, the time is now here? Wow.
“God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.”
As stunning as were Jesus’ statements, she tracked with him. She knew enough of the faith to know that the Messiah had been promised. She said, “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” At this point, she was beyond giving correct answers and was engaged in the conversation fully.
Then Jesus lifted the veil, “I am He, the one who is speaking to you.” In Greek, Jesus said, “Ego ami,” or “I am” – in other words, he used the name of God to identify himself. It was unambiguous and un-mistakeable what he meant. “I am the Messiah.”
She was speechless. Just like me.
- The church’s response (v. 27-38)
Just then, the disciples showed up from their shopping trip to get lunch. I am only going to touch on this.
They saw Jesus with the woman and were astonished. “There is so much wrong with this picture…” must have crossed some of their minds. The woman abandoned her jar and took off. (We will come back to this.) They were left with Jesus, wondering about this awkward scene, but relieved that the woman took off.
The conversation about food deserves its own sermon, but the gist of it was that Jesus declared his Messianic purpose, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work.” They did not get it. They were still breathing a sigh of relief that the woman had cleared out. That could have been scandalous. Jesus pointed out that “I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor;” in other words, I came here for her. “Others have labored and you have entered into their labor.” Again, they would not understand until later, when the risen Lord Jesus would tell them, “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
How often does the church miss the boat like this? How often do we see God do something and, because it does not fit with our expectation of what God should be doing (or who deserves God’s blessing), we dismiss it and hope that such and such a person just goes away.
As much as it grieves me to say, the disciples acted just like me.
- The woman’s life transformed
When the disciples showed up on the scene, the woman went back to the city. Instead of hiding out and avoiding contact with anyone, she sought people out to say, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” Her presence in the community was startling. Her message was outrageous. It was so out of context and so out of the norm that people left the city and went out to see Jesus.
Later, John reported, “many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony. They went out and invited him to stay, and he stayed for two days. Many more believed. They said to the woman – they spoke with her, engaged with her, received her, and were grateful to her – “They said to the woman, ‘It is no longer because of what you said that we believe,’” – in other words, we believed you because we saw the change in your life – now, in addition, “for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world.”
The woman’s encounter with Jesus changed her life. Her changed life also restored her to the community. The community was transformed by her changed life. She became the first evangelist. Her story was not the end, but the beginning of their encounter with Jesus. They went from her story to him. They heard for themselves and grew in their faith.
My prayer is that I am just like her: that my story and my preaching and the ministry I have been given here is not the end, but the beginning of your encounter with Jesus. Go from me to him. Go, so you can know that He is truly the Savior of the world.
Encountering Jesus changes us. Jesus takes us from death to life, transforming our lives from despair and defeat to victory and hope. The living water he promised is such a gift that we cannot keep it to ourselves: we have to go (not as an obligation, but as a secret we cannot contain) and tell others. Complacency is stagnancy.
Still water becomes stale and distasteful; active water is so much more refreshing. We have the good news of living water to share.
Amen.
Closing Hymn: O Master Let Me Walk With Thee
Questions:
- Has God ever shown up and surprised you when you were not ready? Where and how? What happened?
- What are the things you would prefer God not know about you? How do you think God would respond to your “answering only the question” approach?
- How has your life been transformed by encountering Jesus? Have you ever been the beginning of someone’s encounter with Jesus? What was that like for you?