Living Water
Like much of the John’s Gospel, this story works on multiple levels.
Jesus travels from Judea to Galilee by way of Samaria. Stopping in the village of Sychar, he encounters a woman doing what millions of women around the world still do today – fetching water from the community well.
Jesus is thirsty. He asks for a drink.” “What?” the woman asks, “You’re a Jew. I’m a Samaritan. And a woman?” She knew how many rules Jesus was breaking here. On one level, this is a story about Jesus transgressing social taboos and religious boundaries. The wind/Spirit of God really does blow wherever it wills, We really don’t know where it comes from or where it is going.
“Ask me,” Jesus says to her, “and I will give you living water.” “Living” water meant “running” or “flowing” water. Did Jesus know the location of a hidden spring? If so, that would be life-changing.
But she doesn’t fully grasp what he’s offering – not water in a bucket, but “water gushing up to eternal life.” This is a story about where we can turn for lasting refreshment and abundant life.
Jesus knows her personal circumstances without being told. Five marriages (ending in husband-initiated divorce? Or untimely death?), her precarious dependence on a man to whom she was not married. The whispers and pointing. The shame and judgment. This is a story about Jesus’ utter lack of judgment on the circumstances of her life – and our lives.
Jews and Samaritans had common roots. The Samaritans were descended from the old Northern Kingdom of Israel, destroyed 750 years earlier. They and the Jews lived in the mutual hostility and distrust often found among close relatives. This is a story about the tribal divisions transcended by common worship.
“I know the Messiah is coming” she says. “I am he,” Jesus replies. Again, there’s more than meets the eye. Jesus is claiming to be more than one of the many variations of the expected Messiah cherished by different groups and sects. He is one with the God revealed to Moses: “I am who I am.” This is a story about Jesus’ identity.
Beside this ancient well, on a hot and dusty day, in an encounter with a nameless woman, we catch multi-layered glimpses of the Word of God made flesh, full of grace and truth.
Jesus, meet us, accept us, fill us, refresh us during this Season of Lent that we may behold the glory of your love. Amen.
Paul Miller