The Woman at the Well John 4:5-42

Beloved of feminists, dear to the hearts of those who strive for justice and understanding among races and nationalities, the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman has long been a great favorite of mine and many other folks as well. Like so many stories about Jesus, there is an unexpected, even inappropriate, encounter which results in a great teaching, a great conversion, and, most of all, a great story.

Twice the Samaritan woman pulls the “race card” on Jesus. Once asking how he dares speak to her and then reminding him that they have different religions, different ideas about proper worship. Twice he bypasses this provocation. Jesus doesn't care about this stuff and neither should we.

Dating to the division of the tribes after the reign of Solomon, the tribes of Judah and that of Ephraim (both named for the most populous tribes in their division) never got along. That is, in fact, putting it mildly. There was deep seated, and multi-generational hatred between the groups. That is why the story of the Samaritan helping the Jew was so startling.

But Jesus approaches this woman nevertheless, asking for a drink of water. He is not bound by tribal loyalties. He is unmindful of gender roles. His agenda is to bring the Kingdom of God to the people, all people. It’s the flesh and spirit lesson all over again.

Last week Jesus told Nicodemus that he would be born of the spirit. This week he claims to have living water, water that forms a spring inside us, continually renewing itself. “Eternal life” is mentioned for the second time in John’s Gospel.

The woman, believing him to be a prophet, reminds him that they have very different forms of worship. It is as if she is saying: no matter how holy you are, we are irrevocably different in faith and I can’t receive your doctrine. Jesus tells her that soon all forms or worship will be relinquished, that the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth. Then he reveals himself to her as the Messiah. If the Hail Mary Pass had been invented back then, that’s what we’d call it. And it works.

When she leaves to tell her neighbors about this man, wondering aloud if he can really be the Messiah, the disciples return from their trip into town. They have food and urge it on Jesus, but he is too wound up over this stunning exchange to think about food. He says that his work is his food (reminder for fasters in Lent). He then goes on, in his enthusiasm, to use an agricultural metaphor to explain his mission and this surprising success. 

The Gospel accounts never mention Jesus laughing or being happy or dancing around excitedly after a big triumph. But his enthusiasm is palpable in this passage. Who needs food when you have souls to win?

Much has been written and said and preached about flesh vs spirit. Jesus is clearly intent on bringing people to faith in the spirit. First Century Palestine was bogged down in flesh. For one thing many, many people were poor. Moreover, hereditary ties, tribal loyalties, and inherited class status determined a person’s life. Last, but never least, the Law was the mainstay of their connection to God. It was what they had of God. Daily, weekly, seasonally, they enacted their worship through the practice of the Law.

Jesus had to dive into this atmosphere and teach people about the spirit. No wonder he got frustrated so often. No wonder he was so overjoyed by the woman’s belief that he no longer wanted food, or even water. Don’t waste time eating lunch; we have a whole town to save.

The life of the spirit is hard to realize. Hard then. Hard now. Terms like “born again” “bread of life” “living water” are familiar to us. We aren't so hungry any more, or so thirsty, or so tribal. But we are bogged down by possessions, activities, ambitions, worries, responsibilities. The language might be easier for us to hear than it was for our friends from two thousand years ago, but the understanding can be just as hard.

I wish I had an easy answer. I wish Jesus had had an easy answer. But I know there is an answer and I know we glimpse it every now and then – in a prayer, a song, a sight, a touch. 

Let’s look once more at the Samaritan woman. Let’s consider the bucket. First, she wonders how Jesus can offer her any water at all as he has no bucket. Then she leaves her own bucket (OK, her jar) at the well to go and tell her neighbors about Jesus. Probably just a literary flourish from John.  Probably a simple indication that, yes, she does get it now. Surely we can’t be a tougher audience than she was.

Lent is a great time to leave your bucket at the well, just for a while. If you want to be surly, call Jesus’ bluff, remind him how different he is, how irrelevant he is, do so. But listen to the answer you get. It just might make you do the happy dance yourself.