The Rev. Dr. John Tamilio III, Pastor

© 2023, Dr. Tamilio

The story of the woman at the well is a curious one.  It appears early in John’s Gospel, and the context of the story (which is so far removed from us) makes it difficult for modern readers to fully understand (let alone appreciate) the significance of it.  There are a few key points to keep in mind.  First, the Jews and Samaritans were enemies.  Jesus, a Jew, should not be asking a Samaritan for anything.  Second, she is a woman.  We must remember that women were lower on the social ladder than men, just as children were.  (This is one of the reasons why Jesus said we need to care for widows and orphans.)  The third contextual fact that we need to keep in mind is that this woman was a sinner.  She had been married five times.  Regardless of what you and I think about people being married multiple times, it was a no-no in this culture — especially for someone who had been married five times!

What’s interesting is that the woman herself draws attention to the differences between her and Jesus.  She knows that she is in a different social class and reminds Jesus of this.  Still, he asks her for a drink of water.

The conversation shifts.  It becomes about the water itself.  Actually, Jesus is talking about living water.  Jesus says, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty.  The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”

Now imagine being this woman.  You would probably be thinking, “What is this guy talking about?”  But that is not what she says.  Immediately, she says, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.”

This brings us to the crux of the story.  This is where it gets good.  It gets good because the question at the forefront of the Samaritan woman’s mind is the same question we would and do ask.  Actually, there are two questions being posed: what is this living water about which Jesus speaks and where does one get it?  The answer is easy.  Jesus is the living water that our souls need.  We get it by welcoming him into our hearts.

Many people today say we do not need more religion, we do not need more church, we do not even need more good deeds to do.  We need hearts that are changed — people who have made Jesus the focal point of their lives; people who seek a true, authentic relationship with him.

The problem is that we try to find the answers elsewhere.  In our chaotic, run-wild world, we desperately need water to quench our thirst and to satiate our souls.  Max Lucado speaks about this at length in his book Come Thirsty, a text I find myself returning to again and again when my spiritual well begins to run dry.  A seasoned pastor and devotional writer, Lucado understands why we run dry.  At the start of chapter six, he writes,

Turn north at Stress Village, drive a few miles east of Worryville, bear right at the fork leading through Worn-Out Valley, and you’ll find yourself entering the weary streets of Tuckered Town.

Her residents live up to the name.  They lumber like pack mules on a Pike’s Peak climb.  Eyes down.  Faces long.  Shoulders slumped.  Ask them to explain their sluggish ways, and they point to the cars.  “You’d be tired too if you had to push one of these?” [they say]

To your amazement, that’s what they do!  Shoulders pressing, feet digging, lungs puffing, they muscle automobiles up and down the street.  Rather than sit behind the wheel, they lean into the trunk.[1]

The story continues.  If you went to Tuckered Town, you would probably ask the obvious question: why don’t these people just start their cars and use the accelerator to move them.  Others have asked this question, but the response is the same: the residents of Tuckered Town use accelerators to start their vehicles, but they take over from there.  They get behind their cars and push.  Maybe they are like us; they feel they must do everything themselves.

As silly and ridiculous as this illustration sounds, it is quite astute.  We are the people of Tuckered Town.  Jesus is our accelerator.  We rely on him a little bit, but not as much as we should.  We often fail to seek his help to do the obvious tasks, the ones we try to do ourselves, but, in the end, we end up being worn out.

We end up being worn out because we do not really invite Jesus into our lives.  We give our faith lip service: we say we believe all kinds of things, but we end up trying to do it alone.  We do not put our faith into play.  We do not rely on Jesus when we need him most.  We need to make Jesus the focus of our lives.  We need to drink deeply the grace only he can offer and allow him to be the compass that calibrates and guides our lives.

Everyone is busy.  Some more than others.  Everyone has demands placed on their lives.  Some more than others.  Everyone has challenges and problems that they face every day.  Some more than others.  But no matter where you are on this spectrum, you need Jesus.  He is the one who can give your life meaning and purpose.  He is the one who will help you carry the burdens you shoulder.  He is the one who fills you with living water — water that will run through and saturate every fiber of your being; water that mends the brokenness within you and around you; water that will fulfill the thirst that pervades human existence.

Yes, the thirst that pervades human existence.  It is everywhere.  It is a thirst that leaves many people feeling completely parched — those searching for meaning, who want to know what life is all about, who look for the answers at the bottom of a bottle, or the end of a needle, or through countless sexual liaisons, or by jumping on whatever vapid fad comes along.  But the answer isn’t there.  Those who search for the answer in such quarters end up feeling more thirsty.

What we need (what we all need) is the living water that only Jesus can provide.  That is what he told the woman at the well and that is what he tells us, too.  You can try to slake your thirst with physical, material things, like water, but the only way you will be able to fully satiate your deepest needs is by letting the living water of the living Christ fill your entire being.

Reach out, my friends.  Take that cup.  Drink deep.  Let that water living water saturate your dry heart.  Let it wash away those fears that keep you up at night.  Let it give you peace, knowing that you have imbibed something that will continue to well up in your soul, creating a fountain of faith that enables you to be empowered by the Living One.  It is a source of refreshment that will never run dry.  It will flow, and flow, and flow — in you and through you.  It is a well that will never run dry because it is filled with water without end.  Amen.

[1] Max Lucado, Come Thirsty (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2004), 55.