by Rev. Dr John Evans
John 4:5-42
As you know, through this period of Lent, we have set ourselves a task to answer this question – how do the great and dramatic encounters of Jesus, as recorded by the evangelist John, help us understand that “Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, the Son of God, and that through believing we may have life in his name.” John 20:31.
Last week we had the encounter between Nicodemus and Jesus. We found that Jesus saw that “what is born of flesh is flesh; and what is born of the Spirit is spirit”. Nicodemus just seemed to think on a human, or rational level – he was not open to being “born from above” – to believing Jesus was the Messiah. And why was that important - because “whoever believes in Jesus will not perish, but have eternal life”.
Nicodemus, as a result of last week’s encounter, we assume left unsatisfied – possibly bewildered; certainly he did not get the importance of belief and faith. Well immediately following in John’s gospel, there is today’s account – this time, it is not in the centre of power in Jerusalem with a leader of the people; it is a conversation on the margin of middle eastern life with a Samaritan women, at Jacob’s well on the outskirts of the city of Sychar. The contrast could not be more stark.
Now when it comes to this text, most sermons run in a certain direction. They usually go this way:
Jesus breaks down huge barriers of power, race and gender.
Jesus offers life-giving water . . . that satisfies the soul.
God is Spirit, and we should worship in spirit and in truth.
Jesus is the Christ (the conclusion as you know we want by the end of John) – and the whole village believes because of the encounter with this woman.
We look at Jesus and what he says and does – its all true, exciting stuff – but today I don’t directly want to look at Jesus – I want to consider the woman. What does she do and say, how does she behave – and how does she indeed guide us in our reflection on believing Jesus is the Christ who offers to us life – even eternal life?
Typically I think we too readily dismiss this woman. We reduce her to some sort of type, or cipher, or a canvas over which other things are painted, and Jesus can strut his stuff. We think of her as some ancient near east Elizabeth Taylor with all those husbands; or as an outcast – all alone out there at the well. We don’t readily relate to her lifestyle, and she loses her humanity as we just focus on what Jesus does and says. May I suggest however, that if we look at what she actually says to Jesus, we will see more of ourselves than we perhaps would care to admit. In particular, there are four replies the woman makes within this conversation, that I think can typify our own behaviour and may help us in our own life.
The first words she offers is,
“How is it you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?”
OK, Jesus breaks down barriers – the kingdom of God transcends racial, social and gender divides. We know that – we say that often enough – it is the basis of our work for social justice; it is what we endeavour to do here – but we still have to watch ourselves, I have to watch myself. Our woman of Samaria was perfectly happy that the racial, religious, gender divides of her day were maintained. It was simpler that way – she is indignant - how is it you a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?
What a challenge to be a “church of all nations”! What can that name mean for us in the 21st century? I certainly think it goes beyond having appropriate technology so we all can hear the same service; but as our woman of Samaria shows there can be lingering issues of our past, history or current identity, even if one is confronted with the Christ at your watering hole.
The conversation at this point then shifts dramatically. He doesn’t engage the woman about race, background, upbringing – or even about his physical need for water. Jesus turns the conversation around on two counts. Look I don’t need any water, in fact, I am offering to you water - living water – water that sustains not the body – but the soul.
To this the woman replies,
“Sir, you have no bucket and the well is deep; where do you get that life giving water.”
Then a little later,
“Sir, give me this water that I may not thirst, nor come here to draw.”
Dear me – here we go again – like Nicodemus wondering how he can enter his mother’s womb as a grown man and be born again. The woman of Samaria takes Jesus literally – and sees Jesus offering something very tangible: he needs a bucket to give it to her. Indeed our woman thinks it is so tangible – this life giving water - it is going to be a labour-saving device – and she will not have to come to the well constantly and draw water.
We all deal in the concrete, that which we can see, hear and touch, or can be quantified – or can be bought or sold – like say, a cricketer. We so often do not get the spiritual, the deeper aspect of life – which is just as real – but influences us in a different way.
Jesus then again changes tack – he asks about her husband.
She replies, “I have no husband.”
At this point I think of the answer of Bill Clinton to the question did, he have sex with Monica Lewinsky?
We all do what this woman did. When we are in a corner about something that was dishonest or a bit risqué, or just plain embarrassing – we put a spin on it; it is not quite the whole truth. We try to avoid the difficulty, or we enter into self promotion. ‘Well yes I topped the year at school, or uni or whatever that year – but there was just two of you in the class and the other person didn’t front the exams.’ What our woman of Samaria has done – is almost a part of human nature. Some people take it to the level one only speaks in a way that not only minimizes self embarrassment, but they say the words and phrases they think are the words that the other person wants to hear. It is something that we all do.
It is funny though, isn’t it – on the one hand we find it difficult grasping spiritual things – give us this bucket for the living water; but at the same time in our normal course of social encounters we find ourselves having difficulty in dealing with concrete realities like having 5 husbands, or actually feeling depressed, or jealous or angry or even sorry, whatever. . . or shortly stated the truth. I find it fascinating that our society finds dealing with the spiritual difficult – because it is soft value and not really true, but at the same time puts so much stock in “spin”, blather, puff, whatever you call it – we even have a whole industry called the advertising industry based on it. The seeming irrelevance to the story of whether this woman had 1, 2, 3 or five husbands is a beautiful balancing by Jesus of what is really important in life. Living water – that is true; or no husbands, or five husbands, which is true.
So at last the conversation is getting somewhere. Perhaps she sees Jesus has highlighted her inconsistency, or perhaps she is just amazed Jesus might know about her former life – she says, Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet.
The conversation then goes off on an interesting diversion of where one is to worship and how one is to worship. There is a bit of history about the Jews and Samaritans. However, in light of what I have just said, it is thus not surprising that Jesus says we must worship in “spirit and in truth”. When we worship we should be stripped of all pretence and be before God – just as we are. . . . a huge, perhaps obvious insight, but worship is not about – doing, saying, singing whatever, the right thing; whatever that might be. It is about us – the very core of our being “us” – in spirit and truth, acknowledging God – who is Spirit. These are important insights as to what, among other things we are doing here today – but what of our woman of Samaria – does she actually get it that Jesus is the Christ?
Jesus at the end of their conversation says – look you are saying that the Messiah will come and proclaim all things to you – well, I am he. . . perhaps waving his hands at here at this point. The disciples return at this point – so we don’t know whether she understood this – believed this. At best she calls Jesus a prophet, and when she goes back to her village she says – not I have seen the Messiah, rather
Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he? (Not quite a ringing endorsement.)
She is not sure. She is still stuck on the literal – Jesus impressed her because he could sort of mind read, or tell the past. She is open however, to Jesus being the Christ; the person who offers her this new “life giving water”. After all she leaves her water jar behind; its back at the well. (A detail that perhaps has some significance.) There perhaps is more to living than just the physical needs.
I think the more we reflect on this woman and her reactions – I think we can really see ourselves. She is not goody goody two shoes; she does not outright say I believe, falling on her face and worshipping God – but she is challenged to think there is more to life than what we might think – she is open to the possibility with that wonderful question “he cannot be the Messiah, can he? She is open to being born from above.
But there is more to his story, and it is exciting for us here at Carlton. This woman, with her halting insight and confidence about “believing Jesus is the Christ” brought a whole village to believing (a whole foreign and hostile village, I might add) to believing Jesus is the Christ. True, this village were over two days to experience Jesus themselves – but they did say to this woman – your initial words however did lead us to believe. She was the most improbable and successful evangelist of the early church. She didn’t quite get it all, she perhaps was not sure herself on all matters – but through her, others came to understand more deeply who Jesus actually was. They too wanted this living water – this eternal life.
This is written so that you may believe Jesus is the Messiah, and through believing in him you may have eternal life.
