John 4:5–42
Glory to God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
This morning we commemorate Saint Photini, the Samaritan woman at the well. We don’t know what her original name was, but at her baptism she was given the name Photini, which means Enlightened.
The Lord has just told her about the divine life he intends to share: “Whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst; but the water that I give him will become in him a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life” (John 4:14).
This week we marked the middle of the fifty days between Pascha and Pentecost – between the resurrection of Christ and the coming of the Holy Spirit. And there’s a verse we won’t read in the Liturgy until Pentecost, but we sang it repeatedly during the services of the Midfeast. Christ, standing in the temple, cries out:
“If anyone is thirsty, let them come to me and drink! Whoever believes in me, as scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.” By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. Up to that time the Spirit had not been given, since Jesus had not yet been glorified (John 7:37-39).
“Whoever believes in me, as scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.” …As scripture has said? Where is that verse? The Lord is not quoting a proof-text out of the Bible. He is referring to a constant theme in the scriptures that the grace and power of God flows like a river of living water to give life to the world.
In Isaiah: “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost… Give ear and come to me; listen, that you may live.” (Isaiah 55:1-3).
“For I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground; I will pour out my Spirit on your offspring, and my blessing on your descendants” (Isaiah 44:3).
And, “In that day the mountains will drip new wine, and the hills will flow with milk; and all the brooks of Judah shall be flooded with water; a fountain will flow out of the house of the Lord and will water the valley (Joel 3:18).
But today, to the Samaritan woman, the Lord is revealing something new: Not only does our God promise to send grace and mercy like the spring rains to bless his people — Now he intends to make his people sources of light and grace and mercy in the world: Rivers of the pure water of life are meant to flow from you and me, if we become partakers in his divine nature. “All power is given to me in heaven and earth. Therefore, you: go make disciples of all nations, baptize and teach them” (Matthew 28:18-20).
That’s the life of God that the Lord is offering today to the Samaritan woman. And that’s the divine calling that is shortly going to transform her into the bold missionary Saint Photini.
Jesus meets her at Jacob’s Well at midday. He and his disciples have been walking all morning; now it’s the sixth hour, twelve noon. It’s time to stop and sit a bit, and have a drink of water.
* * *
There’s a tradition of storytelling in the Bible, where stories begin when a man meets a woman at a well.
In Genesis 24, Abraham sends his servant back to his hometown to find a wife for his son Isaac. Here comes Rebekah to draw water; the servant asks her to draw water for him and his camel. Come to find out, she is in fact Isaac’s second cousin, and a marriageable virgin. So the deal is concluded, and she comes back to be Isaac’s bride.
In Genesis 29, Jacob meets Rachel who is bringing her flock of sheep to a well. (The same well as in today’s reading.) He draws water and waters her sheep, falls in love with her, and so on.
In Exodus 2, when Moses has fled from Pharaoh into the desert at Midian, he rests at a well. Seven sisters arrive. He helps water their flock of sheep, and their father invites him to stay and gives him his daughter Sephora in marriage.
There’s a familiar kind of rhythm to a story that begins with a man meeting a woman at a well.
* * *
In our town in the Philippines, every morning, the neighbor ladies would meet at the well pump, bring tubs of dishes and laundry, and have an hour or two of social chat while they did the washing up, and filled their water bottles.
All that would happen just after breakfast, before the day could heat up. In hot climates people take a break during the heat of the day. Nobody goes to the well at noon, that’s siesta time (Trivia: Siesta comes from the Spanish name of the noontime prayers, the Sixth Hour.)
But here’s the Samaritan woman coming to the well, not in the cool of the morning, but in the heat of noon, all by herself. She’s not together with the wives and maidens who draw their water in the morning. We’ll see she’s got her reasons for coming alone, not together with the ladies from the town.
The Lord asks her for a drink, and then says he’s got something better to drink than well water: “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. The water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”
She answers, sure, I’ll take some of that. Now he’s ready to have a serious conversation with her. So he says, “Go call your husband and come back.”
“I haven’t got a husband.”
She’s telling the truth. “You have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband.”
Here in 21st-century America, divorce and remarriage are painful but not uncommon. I think all 50 states have no-fault divorce laws. That hasn’t always been the case in America, and it was definitely not the case at the time of Christ.
Under the law of Moses, a man could divorce his wife for any reason. He had to give her a divorce in writing, so she kept at least that much honor, and back she went back to her father’s house.
How often did a man ever seek marry a divorced woman in first-century Palestine? It’s a culture motivated by male honor and shame.
This woman was probably once a joyful bride, with a wedding feast, the blessing of her family and friends, and a place of pride as the wife of her husband. We can’t know how her marriage ended, but the Samaritans lived under the law of Moses, so it’s pretty certain it was her husband who had the power to end it and send her back to her father.
She may never have been sought out again as an eligible potential bride. But over the years she has found comfort and shelter with a few different men she called her husband. She’s raised her sons and she’s made a life.
And nowhere in this conversation does the Lord rebuke her. “You’ve had five husbands” is not an accusation, it’s the Lord recognizing her struggle.
In today’s chapter Saint John makes sure we know how many boundaries Jesus is transgressing when he talks to this woman. First of all, she’s a woman! Even today, in an honor culture like Pakistan or Saudi Arabia, a man doesn’t just casually talk to a woman he’s not related to.
And this is not just any woman – this is in Samaria, so she’s a foreigner, and as Saint John reminds us, Judeans had no dealings with Samaritans. (John 4:9).
Worse than a foreigner, she’s a heretic! The Samaritans read the law of Moses, but on their own terms, and they offered sacrifices in their own temple, not at Mount Sion in Jerusalem. And worst of all, we learn that she is a woman whose culture considers her shameful and devalued.
And the thing is, Saint John is not telling a story here about how to do cross-cultural ministry. Jesus simply meets this person, looks her in the eye, sees her, and interacts with her as a human being and not as a category or an identity.
Jesus doesn’t debate or even try to convince her. He bears witness to the goodness of God who desires that we all be saved.
And when she hears that God knows her secrets and yet is seeking her out, then without hesitation she leaves her water jug, goes back into the town, and says to the people, “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?” They all came out of the town to Jesus.
People can disagree with your Bible proof texts and apologetics and debates. Be transparent about the goodness of God in your life, and be genuine with people, and nobody can argue against your humility.
In this conversation, there is neither Jew nor gentile, male nor female (Galatians 3:28). The Father seeks people who’ll offer him worship, not in Jerusalem or Samaria, not in identities or labels, but in spirit and in truth. That is: in love and in the reality of action.
If someone of a different faith or politics or sexual identity can sense that you see them, not as an identity, or an audience in need of a message, but as someone with a name and a place before God, then in time you and I might earn the right to share some of our life in Christ in that space that develops between us.
Last night I was reading in Genesis, where Abraham and Sarah had no child for so long that he took her servant Hagar, and she bore a son. Then (not one of Abraham and Sarah’s prouder moments) Sarah became envious and threw Hagar out. But the Lord cared for Hagar and led her to a wellspring in the desert. (Another meeting at a well!) He sent her back to Sarah and promised to bless Hagar and her son. Hagar named that well Beer Lahai Roi. The Well of the Living One Who Sees Me (Genesis 16).
Today the Samaritan woman at the well has met the same God that Hagar met at the well. The Lord looked her in the eye and saw her.
If you’re not an evangelist or a preacher, that’s fine. It’s the Lord’s job to convict the world and draw all nations to himself (John 16:8; 12:32). It’s our job to be full to overflowing with the living water of mercy and grace and kindness.
To the glory of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
