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Text — John 4:5-26
5 So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of
ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. 6 Jacob’s well was
there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well.
It was about noon. 7 A Samaritan woman came to draw water,
Right away, in these first three verses, we have a lot going on. A
man meeting a woman at a well is what we call a Biblical “type
scene.” It’s a type of scene that reminds us of other scenes, and
so it gains intensity and meaning from those other scenes.
Normally in the Bible, a man meeting a woman at a well signals to
the reader that a marriage and a sexual encounter are about to
happen. Moses first met his wife Zipporah at a well. Isaac’s
servant met Rebekah at a well. Jacob met Rachael at a well.
Another fact of life in the ancient Middle East is that carrying
water is women’s work, and it’s very hard work. Water is heavy. So
this woman is burdened. She may be a household servant. She’s
certainly not a rich woman.
7b and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” 8 (His disciples
had gone to the city to buy food.)
Here again, the suggestive nature of this encounter is highlighted.
The disciples weren’t there. Jesus and the woman are alone. This
in itself is a violation of a social taboo. And the woman knows
it. But Jesus is turning this type-scene convention upside down.
In most cases, the man offers to water the woman’s flock. Moses did
this. Jacob did this. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. What does
Jesus do? He says, “Give me a drink.” The woman doesn’t respond to
brusque opening line directly, but she does refer to another problem
with this encounter.
9 The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew,
ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in
common with Samaritans.)
This goes way back to divisions in the history of Israel, when
Samaritans inter-married with non-Jews, so the Samaritans are (from
the Jewish perspective) sort of unclean, half-Jews. We might
compare this to inter-racial marriage taboos a hundred years or even
fifty years ago in our country. So now we know that Jesus
knows that this is a dangerous or odd meeting on three fronts.
It’s sexually charged because it’s at a well. Jesus isn’t acting
the way men meeting a woman at a well are supposed to act. And it’s
a violation of a long-standing tribal animosity between Jews and
Samaritans.
How does Jesus deal with this tension? He ignores it, and goes
instead to something deeper happening, but this too is somewhat
coded, or hidden.
10 Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it
is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ (literally, a drink of
water) you would have asked him, and he would have given you living
water (water of a more figurative kind.”
Jesus is thirsty. He’s been walking a long way to get away from his
enemies. He’s at a well. Why doesn’t he get himself a drink? And
besides, if he were a gentleman he’d offer to draw the water himself
for the woman. Pulling a bucket of water out of the well isn’t
easy. There probably wasn’t even a pulley by this well. But he
knows that the woman is thirsty for something else. He sees
something in her, something dry and empty. By saying “Give me a
drink” Jesus is subtly acting like her husband and prompting the
woman to ask him for a drink of a different kind of water.
In John’s gospel especially, Jesus is always the full manifestation
of God’s presence. John’s gospel, Jesus makes a lot of “I am”
statements. I am the true vine. I am the bread of life. I am the
resurrection and the life. I am the way the truth and the life.
Here he’s saying, I am the living water. I’m the answer to the
deepest, driest human thirst. That sounds a little arrogant to us,
and we don’t necessarily have to believe that the historical Jesus
really talked this way. But this is the point of John’s gospel.
Jesus brings to the world what people need most. This is the claim
we’re being challenged with. But, like many other people in the
gospels, this woman at the well takes him too literally and when
people take Jesus too literally they miss the point.
Notice what the woman says next. This is a good answer for a woman
to have to a bad pick-up line.
11 [The woman said to him], “Sir, you have no bucket, and the
well is deep.
The drinks in this bar are expensive, and you don’t look like
someone who has a lot of cash on hand. We can see part of ourselves
in the woman here. What does Jesus have to offer? He doesn’t even
have a bucket with a hole in it. He has no bucket at all. How
could he possibly satisfy our thirst?
But this “well” is another loaded symbol. The well is where the
source of life comes from. People become delirious and confused and
disoriented if they don’t get enough water. And we die of a
different kind of thirst if don’t get the figurative water, water
for the soul. But the well is deep. It’s hard work to get the
water out of it. And this is true for the figurative water too.
Soul-work isn’t always easy. It takes us some places we’d rather
not go. It’s deep and dark in there. Will it be worth the effort?
Will it be too scary? Will it really satisfy my thirst? .
But there is a living Christ in us, and in every person here. There
is something life-giving in that inner well, no matter how lost or
dry we feel.
But now back to the story. The woman goes on. She seems to be a
little curious here, but she masks it in sarcasm.
Where do you get that living water? 12 Are you greater than our
ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his
flocks drank from it?”
Of course, we the readers know that Jesus is greater than Jacob.
And here Jesus drives home his message.
13 Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water [the
water in the ground] will be thirsty again,
This is the human condition. We drink and get thirsty. We eat and
get hungry. We work (carrying water, for example) and then we need
to come back and get more water. The work is never done. The
struggle never seems to end. We reach one goal and then it’s not
enough. We’re insatiable. Our need is endless. We have a hard
time stopping and resting, in the true sense. We’re always anxious
about something.
This is what we’re being asked to think about.
14 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.”
Jesus isn’t talking about water that comes out of the ground, but a
spring inside us. On one level, there’s no way to avoid this
dilemma we all have — being anxious, having to work over and over,
being afraid for our survival and well-being. But there’s a way to
make peace with our situation. This is what Jesus is talking about.
There is a different kind of refreshment that lasts. We can count
on it. It becomes part of us. Or we become it, this inner spring.
15 The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may
never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.”
This is a prayer we all pray on some level, consciously or
unconsciously. But the story goes on.
16 Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.”
This is interesting. Why does Jesus say “call your husband and come
back?” He seems to be changing the subject. Is he trying to
correct the social violation of speaking with a woman alone? Or is
this his way of confronting the problem in her life?
17 The woman answered him, “I have no husband.”
Women without husbands in the ancient Middle East were in a
difficult place. Having no husband is a sign of her vulnerability.
But we don’t know why she has no husband, and we’re not going to
find out.
Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no
husband’; 18 for you have had five husbands, and the one you have
now is not your husband. What you have said is true!”
What does Jesus mean by “the one you have now”? Here again, the
layers of meaning are rich. Is she with someone else’s husband? Is
she living with a man who has made no commitment to her? But think
of this. Because of this scene at the well, a type-scene of a
coming marriage, there’s a suggestion that, when Jesus says, “the
one [the husband] you have now” he’s referring to himself — the one
you are standing with, right here. But he’s not her husband is the
literal sense, but he’s her true, spiritual husband. He’s her
comfort. He’s her source of living water, water you don’t have to
carry. This reminds us of the metaphor of Jesus being married to
the Christian believer, and married to the church, the community of
believers.
We don’t know the details, but we can imagine a long, sad story in
this woman’s life. Her husbands may have died. They may have
divorced her. Her life hasn’t been easy. We’re not told the
details, but Jesus has touched this woman where she is really
thirsty, and weary.
19 The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet.
But then, right away, she either steps back and seems to hide in
that same familiar tribalism that divides Jews and Samaritans. Or,
this may be a genuine question about what to do with this tribalism?
20 Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain,
This is Mount Gerizim, where the Samaritans had a temple.
but you (meaning you Jews) say that the place where people must
worship is in Jerusalem.”
In other words, “How can we ever get beyond the wall between our two
peoples? How can you be my husband?”
21 Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when
you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in
Jerusalem.
The place of worship isn’t important. That distinction is passing
away. And then comes a very interesting line. (This passage is
endlessly fascinating.)
22 You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for
salvation is from the Jews.
Think about that. Would you say you worship what you don’t know, or
what you know? There’s a sense in which both are true. We worship
what we don’t know in the sense that God is beyond our capacity to
know. But we worship what we do know in sense that we believe that
God is been revealed to us through Israel and through Jesus and the
church. These are materials given to us to help us know God. We
don’t know everything, but we have something concrete to go on.
23 But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true
worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the
Father seeks such as these 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 Messiah is coming” (who is
called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.”
26 Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
This is another one of Jesus’ classic “I am” statements that take us
back to Moses at the burning bush, when God spoke to him out of the
bush and said, “I am who I am.”
Looking at this text in detail has already been a full length
sermon, but I’ll say one final thing. This passage shows Jesus
pushing through social barriers to something all human have in
common. This is radically anti-tribal. The day will come, Jesus
says, when no one will worship on their private mountain. This
theme runs through Jesus’ ministry.
But these tribal identities are still deeply engrained in our
nature. They are part of our worldly thirst. The day hasn’t come
when all people come together. Just because we’re Christian doesn’t
erase that tribal streak in us. We still like to be with people who
think more or less like us. This makes us feel safe.
This tribalism is a huge problem in the world. If you feel safe
with one group of people, you’ll feel less safe with other people.
This is all part of our thirst and struggle for security and
survival. Even Jesus is thirsty and tired from his journey, and
from having enemies that he’s running away from. This passage is
all about our bodies and our fears. How do we live in a world, or
how do we live in bodies, where struggle, and weariness, and fear
are built in?
The way to live is 1) with openness to what is different, even
though it might be frightening. We won’t be open to everything.
And, 2) Even though we’re weary and afraid sometimes, to live with
trust in God.
This is what Jesus is talking about. I think this is why we’re all
here. It’s certainly why I am here. |