Living Water

Jesus came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon.

Today’s Gospel story begins with a situation to which we can in some way relate. The scene we are presented with features a man who is hot, and tired, and thirsty. We’ve all been there, for one reason or another.

While that is familiar, the geography mentioned, the city of Sychar probably means little to us. If we had lived back in Jesus’ day, we would have been surprised to realize that Jesus is travelling by foot on a route that most Jews would have avoided, because it led through Samaritan territory. To the Jewish people, the Samaritans were dirt, outcast, unwanted.  The only time Jews had paid any real attention to the Samaritans was to invade Samaria and destroy the temple there.  To the Jews, Samaritans are scum. 

Jesus enters Sychar probably looking for exactly what He finds – a well. Best place in ancient times for a traveler to rest and get a drink – and most cities had one – but this city had a famous one, Jacob’s well, which is mentioned in Genesis. Though we quickly learn He wasn’t prepared to do so, it was a time of day when Jesus, a Jew, should have been able to get a drink unobserved. Because the noon hour was so hot, no one would normally have been out drawing water. But on this day the situation is different.

A Samaritan woman came to draw water. How very odd, what is she doing out at this hour? Jesus is undaunted and merely says, “Give me a drink.”  Yes, it could be taken as a man ordering a woman around, but it’s ancient times and, not only that, from the following information, the reason He needs help is made clear – He has no jug with which to draw water.

Thus far this seems to be a straightforward story, but, of course there’s more here than we might first recognize.

It is odd that Jesus speaks to a woman, and a Samaritan woman at that. Jews did not speak to Samaritans. For that matter, men did not speak in public to women not of their own family. Yet here is this Jewish man, probably distinguishable by His clothing, his accent, sitting at the well, relaxing, and He speaks to the Samaritan woman.

And Jesus has already figured out the probable reason for her presence at the well at this odd hour of the day. She's avoiding the company of other women, because she is a woman of ill repute, or, as some would say, a notorious evil liver.  She is trying to protect herself from other reputable women, to avoid their scorn, their anger, and their cruelty.  Were she to come to the well at the normal time of day, she would be opening herself up to abuse.

Jesus has, without any concern, broken many cultural barriers. While He is fully aware of these taboos, they hold no meaning for Him. His life, His world is not governed by social pressure or prejudice. As we all know, it is defined totally by acceptance and unconditional love. From Bhis perspective, this woman is at the well, she has a jug, and He wants and needs a drink.

The woman at the well, whose name we never learn, has her own perspective. She sees a Jewish man without a water jug.  She's smart, and she's guarded.  What is he doing here, and more important, what does he want with her? 

It really isn't difficult to put yourself in her place.  Though we do not share her poor reputation in the community, we would all certainly be intrigued, and on guard, if, say, a member of Hell's Angels Motorcycle Club showed up here in church, in full regalia, and wanted to join us in worship, or even just for coffee after the service. We would all be wondering what he wanted and why he'd come here. We have expectations and preconceived notions, and so does the Samaritan woman. She's trying hard to figure out this strange Jewish man. So, she asks Him what he's up to.

The Samaritan woman said to Jesus, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?”

Like Nicodemus last week, up to this point the Samaritan woman thinks she is following the conversation, that she knows what is going on, but now the mystery begins. Jesus answered 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.” 

The woman is both delighted and puzzled.  She’s still taking everything at face value, and to her “living water” means a stream or a river, water that moves, rather than water at the bottom of a well. She would love to know the location of this living water. She says to Jesus, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.” And then, much to her amazement, after telling her He knows things about her that He could not possibly know, after speaking to her of spirit and of truth, Jesus reveals to her, that He is the long-awaited Messiah. Nothing is as she thought it was, and she runs off to share the Good News with others.

If you were to read what great scholars and theologians have said about this particular Bible story, you would probably find that we, the congregation, are meant to find ourselves in the Samaritan woman.  Like her, most of us are not Jews or of Jewish descent, most, if not all, of us go about our daily lives and routines governed by the rules and customs of our society. We don’t look for the Messiah, for Jesus, in people we meet, because we do not expect to find Him there. We cling to our version of reality, because it is both familiar and feels safe. Indeed, we can find ourselves in the Samaritan woman.

Perhaps we should also think of ourselves as the well. We have depths that we never fully plumb. There is Living Water within us, the Holy Spirit, but so often it lies quietly dormant while we go about our daily lives. Others who need us, may have to draw the Spirit out of us, because we are not ready to freely give it, to spread the grace, the love that lies within. We have built walls that, whether or not we realize it, contain the Living Water, the Holy Spirit we received at our Baptism, and these walls make it difficult for others to reach it, to be touched by it.

It is Lent, and there is another time in John’s Gospel when Jesus asks for a drink. He looks down on us from the cross and says, “I Thirst”. He is no longer talking just to the woman at the well, He is talking to each and every one of us. Mother Teresa built her devotional life on responding to that plea. She taught her Sisters to put their name before His impassioned cry. Try it – put your name there, “Elise, I thirst”, “JC, I thirst”. Our Lord is asking us to stop being deep wells of water. He wants us to be rivers of grace.

Being Living Water for others means being bearers of hope, love, and mercy, being aware of those around us in a new way, being open to them. Answering Jesus call means giving in, tearing down our walls, surrendering to Him.

The woman at the well was still not certain, but she was excited and perhaps even a bit overcome by what she has just experienced, so much so, she left her water jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” They left the city and were on their way to him.

We don’t believe just because we’ve heard a Bible story. If we but look in our lives, there is plenty of proof.  Allowing for our moments of occasional human doubt, we are certain, we know we have found the Messiah. The question before us is, will we answer His call? Will we go out into the world as deep wells of quiet, nearly inaccessible water, or will we burst with joy, allowing the Living Water we received in our Baptism to flow from us to others, as our Lord has called us to do?  We know what Jesus wants.  We have experienced, we have been embraced, by the Truth.

As for the Samaritans, they said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world.”

Let us pray:

Heavenly Father, we come before you with humble hearts, seeking Your grace in our lives. Fill our hearts with Your love and mercy, and guide us in all we do.  May Your grace be abundant, and may we extend it to others as You have shown us. We ask for Your Love and Mercy’s sake.  Amen.