047. Chapter 26 - The Woman at the Well
Chapter 26 - The Woman at the Well
John 4:1-42 Facing Difficult Situations
Jesus resting on the curb of the historic well at Sychar in the hostile Samaritan country! A lone woman comes with her waterpot. The Son of God finds no rest, for He reads the degradation and shame, the agony, the unspoken and even the unconscious longings of every human heart. Every approaching footstep is a call for help. The scenes of this early ministry might be given the caption: “Facing Difficult Situations.” Jesus in His Father’s house, which is filled with corruption, faces the leaders of the nation who are responsible for its management. The great Teacher meets the questions of one of Israel’s scholars concerning Himself and His kingdom. The Saviour finds, by a lonely wayside well, a Samaritan woman of fascinating personality, but questionable past, and reaches out to save a lost soul.
Reason for Leaving Judaea
Jesus has been campaigning in Judaea for some eight months. The death struggle which immediately develops from His public condemnation of the Jerusalem hierarchy at the Passover causes the capital to hesitate, but when Jesus moves out into Judaea His movement begins to develop momentum. The excited throngs following Jesus begin to exceed those about John the Baptist. This is no longer a secondary movement. John has hurled his thunder-bolts at the Pharisees and Sadducees from his desert pulpit, but Jesus comes into the temple and casts down His challenge. And He proceeds to campaign intensively in the territory about the capital. Excitement grows apace. The hierarchy now perceives a real peril. During the Passover, Christ “did not trust himself” to all who believed on Him, for “he knew all men.” And now, “when the Lord knew that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing more disciples than John. . he left Judaea and departed again into Galilee.” Are they already plotting to assassinate Him? If He remains here, at any rate, His ministry will come quickly to its final crisis at the cross. He must preach to the rest of the nation before this comes to pass. Whenever the excitement began to reach fever heat, Jesus usually changed His location and started a revival in some other locality. The people were so intent on a Messiah who would lead them in battle against the Roman legions that excitement had to be kept within bounds while He broke down their false conceptions of the Christ and taught them the spiritual character of the kingdom. Political revolution and bloodshed, never very far beneath the surface in Judaea during the Roman occupation, must be restrained.
Why Go through Samaria?
“And he must needs pass through Samaria.” Why so? Because of the enforced exit from Judaea, He must go on north through Samaria, or else go back through the capital with its seething plots. Or must He go through Samaria because it is God’s will that this benighted people shall now hear something of the good news? The disciples will be warned later not to take this triumphant campaign at Sychar as warranting a general evangelistic movement in Samaria during His ministry. They must concentrate on Israel, for the time is short (Matthew 10:5). But the Samaritans shall at least hear the Christ these few days; and when, after Pentecost, Philip will come here with the gospel, the good seed sown years before will blossom forth into a glorious harvest.
Jesus by the Well
“Jesus therefore, being wearied with his journey, sat thus by the well. It was about the sixth hour.” “Sat thus”? How was that? How eloquent is that word “thus”! John the apostle, and the other five disciples with Jesus, had watched their Master as He sat down upon the well-curb while they went out to buy food. Something of the posture of Jesus burned itself into John’s mind, as his heart was filled with pity for his wonderful Master, despised and rejected in God’s Holy City and worn with His incessant labors for the eager, needy crowds and with the trying journey. If the Fourth Gospel uses the Jewish method of counting time — sunrise to sunset — the sixth hour was 12 Midnight. But if it uses the Roman method, which is quite evident, the sixth hour was either 6 a.m. or 6 p.m. Jesus, weary from a long journey at 6 a.m., suggests a forced march through the night; 6 p.m. suggests a more ordinary journey through the day.
Ministry among the Samaritans This ministry among the Samaritans stands distinctly apart from the regular current of Christ’s labors. He did not attempt a ministry to the Gentiles. Only twice is it recorded that He was outside of Palestine — once when, as an infant, He was taken to Egypt and, again, when He visited the Phoenician territory seeking retirement. We wonder if the Jerusalem leaders heard of this work in Sychar and what they thought of it. They accused Him of being a Samaritan in one of the heated exchanges which occurred later (John 8:48). Did this charge arise out of this association with them? The Origin of the Samaritans The Samaritans were a hybrid race which had arisen out of the intermarriage of the remnants of the ten tribes left in Israel with the colonies of heathen nations brought in when Samaria fell (722 b.c.) before the assaults of the Syrians in the reign of Shalmaneser. The Assyrians skimmed the cream off Israel and deported the intellectual and political leaders of the nation. They were scattered in groups over the Assyrian Empire, and the feebler elements of the nation who were left in Israel intermarried with the colonies of heathen among them, and lost their identity. It is uncertain as to what the attitude of the Samaritans was toward the Old Testament — as to how far they accepted and attempted to follow it. The bitter hostility between Jew and Samaritan began during the reconstruction of Jerusalem (Ezra 4:1-24 ff.; Nehemiah 4:1-23 ff.), and continued until the destruction of the Jewish nation by the Romans in the first and second centuries a.d. The action of the Samaritan village which refused to allow Jesus to spend the night was typical, although another village seems to have received Him (Luke 9:51-56). His reception at Sychar was achieved through the help of the woman He met at the well.
Character of the Woman The character of this woman emerges in general outline from a study of the conversation. She gives evidence of remarkable brilliance of intellect. The avidity with which she followed the subtle argument of Jesus and the swift, skillful turns which she occasionally gave to the conversation reveal mental acumen. An outcast by race and shut out from educational advantages by virtue of being a woman, she shows amazing ability to struggle for comprehension of the deeper meanings of Jesus, and shrewd intuition in arriving at the truth. Her past life seems to have shown disregard for the law of God and for social conventions, although the Old Testament gave utter freedom of divorce (Matthew 19:3-9; Mark 10:2-12). In this conversation Jesus was either seeking to set up the higher standard of divorce for the cause of adultery alone, or else the whole history of her life would not bear investigation. Undoubtedly both of these underlie the conversation. The woman’s conscience was not entirely hardened. Her sense of spiritual need was quickly awakened. John has chosen to record, out of the multitude of incidents of this early ministry, conversation with two striking individuals — the Jerusalem scholar and the woman of Sychar — and in each case great principles of Jesus’ teaching were revealed. The Situation As the woman approaches with her waterpot, self-sufficient and carefree, possibly humming a melody as she walks, Jesus sits at rest on the curb. It is a most embarrassing situation. Jew and Samaritan! A lone man and a woman — strangers — at a well! And such a woman! Will He stoop to friendly conversation with such a person? A vast chasm of social and religious prejudice separates them. “For Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans” is the succinct explanation which John inserts into his narrative so that his Gentile readers will understand the dramatic possibilities of the situation. The amazement of the disciples on their return that he was speaking with a woman” is suggestive of the fact that Jesus has also overstepped the social customs. “Never speak to a woman on the street,” and “Burn the words of the law rather than teach them to a woman are Jewish maxims which reveal the ancient degradation of woman even in Israel. How can Jesus cross such a chasm? What can He say which will give no offense to the woman, or which will not be misunderstood and draw a flippant reply? Jesus flings the bridge of human need across the chasm. What would this world be like but for the call of human suffering? How selfish and cruel we would all grow if we heard no appeals for help. The tact of Jesus is consummate. “Give me to drink.” She could take no offense at that. She could not misunderstand it. She might churlishly refuse it or she might grant it in contemptuous silence. Either course would thwart the purpose of the Master. But the woman is so impressed by His personality and so amazed at His friendly words that she neither refuses nor grants His request, but utters a quick reply that is half protest and half question The Problem of His Personality
“How is it that thou, being a Jew, askest drink of me, who am a Samaritan woman?” “You certainly are a Jew? I am not mistaken in that. Your appearance, dress, speech, indicate it. I am a Samaritan. You surely are not mistaken? Then I must tell you. How is it you have thus broken the age-old social and religious conventions?” Notice how the personality of Jesus arouses inquiry in a moment. Wherever He went, “He could not be hid.” Nicodemus, after intensive observation and study, came saying, “We know who thou art...[but who are you really?].” This woman hears but four words and her whole heart is full of questioning. All desire to secure water for herself and all thoughts of drawing water for Him are lost in the puzzle of His personality and conduct. More evident human suffering in Jesus would have stirred her pity and moved her to grant His request. Less evident majesty of person would have left unstirred her wonder and interest. All the ages find themselves, like the woman of Sychar, continually moved to ask, “Who is this? Why this conduct?”
“If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink; thou wouldest have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water.” The reply of Jesus immediately turns the discussion toward God. To the implied question of the woman, “Who are you?” He gives a response which conceals the answer, “the gift of God.” He had told Nicodemus finally, “God gave his only begotten Son,” and here He speaks to the woman of the supreme “gift of God.” This elusive revelation of Himself redoubles her interest. He had turned the conversation with Nicodemus from Himself to the kingdom of God; He makes a similar turn here to “the gift of God,” and adds a most beautiful and stimulating comparison of salvation to the water of life. Nicodemus, proud of his birth as a Jew, was given pointed, but mysterious, instruction as to the similarity of salvation to a new birth. The woman, seeking water, hears of wonderful “water of life.” In such fashion did the great Teacher uncover the deep mysteries of God through the means which were at hand, and stir the intellectual activities of His hearers to the maximum. A simple and matter-of-fact revelation would have been unimpressive and would have robbed the seeker after truth of the joy and growth of conquest. It would have been like a teacher furnishing the student with all the solutions and answers to the problems instead of insisting on independent effort in their solution.
“Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with, and the well is deep: whence then hast thou that living water? Art thou greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank thereof himself, and his sons and his cattle?” The teaching of Jesus fills her with perplexity as it had Nicodemus. Great scholar and unlearned toiler alike are as primer students in music, playing unawares in the presence of a master musician, who begins to play musical scores and furnish harmonies which they cannot fathom. They are enthralled and uplifted by that which they cannot fully comprehend, struggle as they may. The woman gropes for His real meaning as she reminds Him of His recent request for help (He has nothing to draw with), of the great depth of the famous well, and of the fact that He is presuming to claim to be even a greater benefactor than their ancestor who had dug the well. The Woman’s Need Revealed
“Every one that drinketh of this water shall thirst again: but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall become in him a well of water springing up unto eternal life.” The all-sufficiency of Christ again is magnificently revealed. The self-complacency of the woman, as she came to the well equipped to secure water and found Him without these means, vanishes in the realization of human helplessness. Nicodemus had come in the same mood. But how quickly the assurance of “Rabbi, we know” was changed to “I don’t know. How can these things be? I can not understand.” So the woman changes from “Thou askest drink of me” to “Whence bast thou that living water?”; “Sir, give me this water, that I thirst not, neither come all the way hither to draw.” She does not yet perceive the depth of His meaning, but her sense of need is profoundly stirred. His words are as the shining, limpid waters of the well in which she now peers and sees her image: “The well is deep, whence hast thou?….Sir, give me.” She is thinking of physical water, but unconsciously she is sounding the depths of the misery of life without God, the futility of earthly existence without “the water of life.” “I thirst,” “I come all the way hither to draw,” are poignant outbursts of a burdened human heart as yet half awakened. But before she can come to herself and return to the Father’s house, her conscience must be stirred. It is for this purpose that Jesus suddenly brings her past life into view.
“Go, call thy husband, and come hither.” The shaft pierces her heart. Does she start back, change color, and with uplifted hand to her bosom utter a half-stifled, inarticulate cry? Does He know? How can He know? How much does He know? Or is it a mere chance remark? Her conscience long smothered suddenly leaps up into a blazing, searing flame. She beats a hasty retreat from this new battlefield. She draws the curtain of a quick, defiant denial over her past. What right has this mysterious, awe-inspiring stranger to inquire into her life? This has gone far enough. Discuss the water of life with Him? Yes. But allow Him to probe her past? No. But He must be answered! All of this in the flash of an indignant eye! But her gaze falls and she stammers, “I — I have no husband.”
“Thou saidst well, I have no husband: for thou hast had five husbands; and he whom thou now hast is not thy husband: this hast thou said truly.” Oh, the majesty and the power of this slashing blow with which He cuts the bonds which still fetter her conscience! Does she peer again into the well to hide her embarrassment — only to see again her image, the startled semblance of her sullied soul? Or does she turn and cast a furtive glance at Sychar, calculating an escape? And what can He mean now: “Thou saidst well.” “This hast thou said truly.” Is this sincere praise or is it veiled sarcasm? Had she told the truth? Had she meant to confess the truth, or throw out a hasty denial to hide the truth? Did not the law of Moses give absolute freedom of divorce? Does He mean that her answer is much more truthful than she intended or realized? Through the maze of it all her conscience thunders that her whole past is known to Him and cannot be bid.
Ancient Controversy Invoked
“Sir, I perceive that thou art a prophet. Our fathers worshipped in this mountain; and ye say, that in Jerusalem is the place where men ought to worship.” Now she has come to the same conclusion with which Nicodemus began his conversation. Every turn of the conversation has unfolded His wonderful personality. Even when the searchlight is turned on her life, it is done in such a way that it reveals His divinity. And does not the consideration of His personality offer welcome relief from a too intimate and embarrassing survey of her own life? Is she changing the topic to avoid consideration of a past which she cannot defend, or is this a sudden surging of pent-up longings for God and a higher life? She cannot resent His condemnation of her life. She admits the truth of what He says and of the much more which He implies. But what hope is there for her? The Samaritans at best are a rejected and outcast people. How can she approach God with such a checkered past and with such confusion among her people as to method? Jerusalem, the holy, is not for her. She tries to clothe her appeal for Gerizim with the authority of the past: “Our fathers worshipped.”
“Woman, believe me, the hour cometh, when neither in this mountain, nor in Jerusalem, shall ye worship the Father. Ye worship that which ye know not: we worship that which we know; for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and truth: for such doth the Father seek to be his worshippers. God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” Her appeal for Gerizim is answered by a flat denial of the validity of the Samaritan claims. They have abandoned the Old Testament. Whenever a person abandons the Bible, it is always true that he worships he knows not what. But her unconscious appeal for approach to God, forgiveness and a higher life is not denied. It is not a matter of location, but of spirit and truth in finding God. Correct belief must unite with a sincere spirit. The truth He has revealed must be accepted by actual assimilation in a human spirit brought into harmony with the Holy Spirit. The Old Testament is the Word of God; salvation is of the Jews, and the Samaritan claims are absolutely false. But a new revelation is about to be granted from heaven which sets aside the Old Testament. This is one of the most profound and revolutionary of the sayings of Jesus. It completely sets aside the central proposition of the Old Testament which is built about the one central place of worship. A Hebrew idiom clouds the meaning of “Neither in this mountain, nor in Jerusalem.” Cannot one now worship here? His fundamental principle shows this cannot be the meaning. The idiom means “not only in this mountain, and in Jerusalem, but also” (cf. 1 Corinthians 1:17). The declaration, “The true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and truth,” matches the great pronouncement to Nicodemus: “Except one be born of water and the Spirit, he can not enter into the kingdom of God.” The Christian religion has both a body and a spirit. The Forgotten Waterpot
“I know that Messiah cometh: when he is come, he will declare unto us all things.” This is the inevitable outcome of the conversation. He has risen above the need of help from Jacob’s well, and offered living water; He has revealed miraculous insight into her unworthy past, and has condemned it; He has even dared to claim superiority to the Old Testament itself, and authority to reveal a new dispensation of God. Her amazement and awe at His words burst forth in this puzzled declaration: “Messiah cometh.”
“I that speak unto thee am he.” The brevity, simplicity, and majesty of this revelation baffle description. And just as the climax of the conversation has been reached, the disciples come trooping tip with provisions. What a situation! “They marveled that he was speaking with a woman. But their reverence and loving devotion to Jesus surmount even this surprise, and they do not utter a word of criticism or question. Do they eye the woman with sidelong glances? Although thirsting for more of this living water, she perceives the conversation is not to continue now. The recollection of the command, “Go call thy husband, and come hither,” sends her flying to carry the wonderful news to Sychar. She will hear more of the wonderful news and she will share it with all her fellow-townsmen. Someone has called the waterpot left on the well-curb “the unconscious pledge of her return.” It is also the mute token of her new interest in a higher life. She came with a waterpot seeking water from Jacob’s well. When she left, her waterpot was forgotten. She is now consumed with thirst for living water. Her exaggerated tribute to His power to read the human heart is natural. She felt He could tell all things she had done. The news sets the village afire. All work is abandoned as they start forth toward Jacob’s well.
“In the meanwhile the disciples prayed him, saying, Rabbi, eat.” The meal has been spread upon the ground. The disciples take their places, and turn to see Jesus still sitting in silent abstraction on the well-curb. They are all weary and hungry. Why does He not join them? They know His need of food and rest if He is to bear the staggering load of such evangelistic labors. They will not begin without Him. Dare they interrupt His meditations? There is a very deep pathos in the simple appeal: “Master, eat.” The reply of Jesus, “I have meat to eat that ye know not,” sets them whispering across their improvised table: “Hath any man brought him aught to eat?” The consuming desire of Jesus to save lost souls received immortal expression in His response: “My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to accomplish his work.” Then, with a gesture toward the green fields of grain, He cites four months till the harvest in April, and with another gesture toward the Samaritans pouring out of Sychar on the road to the well, He indicates a harvest-field that is ripe and ready for the gospel reapers. The impetuous and vehement testimony of the woman won the whole village to an excited investigation, and a two-day ministry of Jesus in their midst confirmed their faith in Him as the Christ. The isolation of Samaria permitted this open declaration of Himself as the Messiah. In the Galilean ministry which followed, Jesus was compelled to pursue a more guarded revelation of Himself because the Messianic movement among the Jews threatened to stir undue excitement and lead off in the direction of war with Rome. But a more extended evangelization of Samaria was not advisable at this time, for it would have so aroused the resentment of the Jews that a further ministry among them would not have been possible.