Listen to the talk here – recorded 18th May (NB moderate audio quality), or read below:
In John 4, Jesus is travelling through Samaria and encounters a Samaritan woman at an ancient well. Breaking all the rules to strike up a conversation, he then offers a gift she can’t turn down.
Setting the scene
John 4:1-6 describes how Jesus is travelling from Judea to the south of Samaria (which includes places like Hebron, Bethlehem and Jerusalem), to Galilee with its sea, and cities like Tiberius to the north. Samaria is not a place where Jewish people typically travelled. But the passage is simple and clear, “Now he had to go through Samaria”. So while many Jews would circumnavigate Samaria and take a longer route by the main roads (which would mean a significant diversion), Jesus simply had to go through it. We know that he was going to Galilee, and evidently by the shortest possible route – which was through Samaria. We also know that he was under pressure from the Pharisees who’d noticed that he was overtaking John [the Baptist] and therefore becoming a person of interest and possibly a threat. Time was of the essence, and conflict with the religious authorities wasn’t on the menu at that point. So let’s call this a tactical manoeuvre.
The next part of the story unfolds in John 4: 7-15:
“When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, ‘Will you give me a drink?’ (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, ‘You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?’ (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, ‘If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.’ ‘Sir,’ the woman said, ‘you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?’ Jesus answered, ‘Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’ The woman said to him, ‘Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.’”
Why stop there? (breaking social conventions)
Jesus was a rabbi, and therefore a devout Jew. People like him definitely didn’t interact with Samaritans. The Jewish people’s disapproval towards them was well documented and translated into animosity and outright hatred – they didn’t associate with each other at all.
We can see this illustrated in Jesus’ story of the Good Samaritan elsewhere in the gospels. A Jewish man is beaten up by robbers and left on the road, not one of his fellow countrymen, not even righteous and religious men want to stop for him or risk befalling the same fate. Jesus tells this story of a good Samaritan who comes to his aid, which flies in the face of their attitudes towards this people group – a good Samaritan?! It’s an oxymoron. Let alone one who helps a Jewish man, paying for his care and tending to him. Jesus clearly wasn’t swayed or subject to the broader socio-religious-political biases towards Samaritans. And if anything he confronted them.

So Jesus and his disciples cut through Samaria, appearing to give it no thought. Time was short and common sense prevailed. It could cut a week off the journey between Judea and Galilee so that it took just three days instead. Perhaps they also realised that the Pharisees wouldn’t follow them through Samaria itself. And actually, I’d speculate that Jesus could have been traversing Samaria for years. He was raised in Nazareth in the north but his daily life and worship had led him to Jerusalem to the south of Samaria so it’s a route he’d very likely be familiar with already.
For the son of God was there anywhere in Israel that he didn’t feel at home or that was off-limits?
But for Jews generally, Samaria was a place of transit – you were never stopping there, you were only ever (in extremis) passing through it. And otherwise you were going around it. Doing all you could to avoid interacting with the Samaritans. It’s human nature to avoid areas you might feel unsafe – in fact I did this the other night. Taking the long way back to the station via the main roads even though I could have cut through an estate – now that might sound sensible for a woman in London but I have no real evidence to suggest that I would have come to any harm.
Whatever the case, most interesting perhaps is the fact that:
Jesus stopped… in Samaria.
Not only that, he stopped at near Mount Gerizim at Jacob’s Well.
And he’s about to have a full conversation with a Samaritan….a Samaritan Woman.
He had already ignored several rules and social conventions that day, including those that would have led him by a different route. Now he’s sitting by a historic well in the heart of Samaria. So what’s breaking a few more?

An education in identity
It’s noticeable that she is described solely by her ethnicity and gender – the Samaritan Woman. In our climate of identity politics, these sort of identifiers – these boxes we tick, are first and foremost. Still this is a noticeably reductive description of a person – we don’t know her name, but this is highly relevant to this story because of everything that Jesus is transgressing here. He’s breaking all sorts of religious, cultural, historical and social laws here. However, he is in perfect obedience to God.
For us, what might be the equivalent? Think of those cultural norms, conventions, principles of class or gender that might influence or govern our actions or daily decisions. Maybe without even knowing it – telling you what’s appropriate or not, where to go, who to speak to and how, what to buy etc. They might make us socially acceptable to ‘people like us’ but they can tie us up when it comes to the simplicity and immediacy of obeying God.
So when he asks her for a drink, she feels duty bound to highlight this transgression and educate him – remind him – what’s appropriate: “‘You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?’ (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)” we’re told. Anyone notice that Jesus knows exactly what he’s doing in asking her for a drink. Convention requires that their different traditions are voiced and their differences which govern this are laid on the table.
Schooling the schooled
Should she be schooling a man like this, and a religious Jewish man no less? Is it even her place to do this? But he’s setting her up for it. I find myself wondering about who else is around, who else notices these two, even from afar. It would have been quiet there. Jesus is sending himself further into social impropriety by talking with this woman – a fallen woman – on his own. So to add to the growing list, he’s now transgressing approved sexual and relational conduct too. To anyone witnessing this, or anyone who heard about it he could be seen as yet another man welcoming her advances. But he gives that no mind – thinking nothing of the risk to his reputation or social standing as a rabbi.
And this suddenly becomes a more intimate and vulnerable interaction. It becomes a genuine encounter. What is it about his demeanour that emboldens her? That gives her permission to correct him. Is she just brazen? But he’s not just another Jewish rabbi or religious man. He’s not just another Jewish man. He’s not just another… man. And this is suddenly transformed from all its impropriety into a significant, life-altering moment between two people.
We know this isn’t the only time he confronts these conventions, or breaks them. Elsewhere in the gospels he allows another ‘fallen’ woman to pour out a jar of perfume, worth a year’s wages, weeping and wiping his feet with her hair. Whilst he dines with religious leaders and influential men. Can you imagine?? Even now the wastage, the woman – weeping – and wiping of his bare feet in a formal setting, during dinner, would be shocking, or head turning at least. You can just imagine the people there voicing their disapproval, frowning or scowling or getting up to leave in protest. But he is secure, totally in the moment and most importantly in perfect obedience.
What we often think of as right, and appropriate, and dress up as obedience to God. Is no such thing. Equally what we assume to be inappropriate, uncouth and wrong. Is no such thing before God. And this encounter – along with many others that Jesus had – demonstrates this.
Obey your Thirst
There’s lots of visual language here. So let’s visualise this. It’s noon and the sun is high overhead. It’s the heat of the day. You’re squinting against the sunlight, everything looks bleached out. You feel parched and your tongue is sticking to the roof of your mouth. You’re also tired, and heavy limbed having walked since early morning. You need to rest and eat. And you need a long drink to quench your thirst.
Jesus asks the Samaritan woman: “Will you give me a drink?”
She counters him: “‘Sir,’ the woman said, ‘you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep’.”
So, that’s a no. But she’s bound by convention – emphasising the proper way and this is not it. It would have been wrong for a Jew and Samaritan to draw and drink from shared cups or utensils as Samaritans were thought ritually unclean by the Jews. She’s making no concessions on this matter of religious and cultural propriety, even though she’s much more flexible in other areas of her life.
And she hadn’t heard or computed this: “Jesus answered her, ‘If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.’” He’s reproves her – was there a twinkle in his eye as he says this? Still, she just hasn’t heard him – she doesn’t register what he is saying. Have you ever had a conversation where you’re talking at cross-purposes. The other person simply cannot take in what you’re saying.
The contrast of Jesus’ physical thirst – he is the one in need or so we think – next to the well full of water. While she is denying Jesus a drink – bound by these customs and conventions. In fact, I don’t think she gives Jesus a drink at all in this whole passage. He’s thirsty. But what is thirst exactly? It’s a need, and a desire for water. For something that sustains life itself. If you don’t obey your thirst or hunger at some point, both of which are signalling a genuine need, you would eventually die.
They are like mirrors – she’d denying him physical water to keep customs and conventions, while he is breaking them all to offer her living water.

we don’t just thirst for water
This woman is persona non-grata. She is a social outcast and not welcome by the other women in her community. She’s at the Well in the middle of the day, while the women and most of the community would fetch water, wash and clean in the early morning. But she’s not welcome then, or she chooses not to go. In her own life she hasn’t been drinking from her own cistern. Not belonging because she has failed to meet a social standard and code of practice that was expected of her. She’s ostracised. This isn’t just a feeling, it’s a reality and playing out in her social exclusion and isolation.
But she does has plenty of water to drink and something to draw it with (unlike Jesus which she has already pointed out). But actually it’s her whole life that is a dry and parched. She is thirsty but not for water. Her thirst is for belonging, community, for connection, and companionship. She’s thirsty for meaning, resolution, restoration. For relief from her social isolation and loneliness that brings her here in the middle of the day. And for repatriation – legitimacy as an heir of the promises to Israel too. To no longer feel sidelined from the Jewish people as a Samaritan, as she is from her own community. So her thirst cuts across every part of her identity.
And here is Jesus, coming right into her thirst. He stops and sits down in it. Having gone where no one else will travel.
In a recent piece for Woman Alive UK I wrote about chaplains who go into strip clubs. And one of the things I found really amazing when I talked to one of these chaplains in particular; she said to me: “It’s wild that God is so present in strip clubs”. And she said the reason is that God goes whether there’s thirst, or hunger.
Jesus is drawn to the dry and parched lands. He’s drawn to the hungry, and the thirsty. Who knows why he cut through Samaria that day but to me, it’s as if his feet just walked him there. Like my feet sometimes walk me the route I used to take to school. It’s just wired into the son of God to traverse the deserted places and the abandoned places. With the voice of the Holy Spirit his guide.

heights versus depths
The Samaritans were clinging to their history in this area, and the history of the patriarchs – wanting to worship God on this mountain – (Mount Gerizim) not in Jerusalem where the temple was. It caused a rift – further compounded by their mixed ethnicity which the Jews despised.
But here the Samaritan woman identifies herself alongside Jacob, claiming her birthright. And refuting the prejudice of devout Jews against Samaritans. She claims her patriarchal lineage. She and her people are inheritors and people of Israel too, even while those very people dismiss and disparage them. This well too, on the land Jacob bought for his burial site is an important part of that history.
When Jesus responds to her, telling her that she could ask him for living water, she challenges him, showing her loyalty to her people: “Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?’”
The answer of course is yes – he supersedes Jacob. More than that he has come to meet those ancient longings and to fulfil God’s promises to her ancestors. But not to be deterred or diverted, he stays on topic. He contextualises the good news of who he is and what he offers for her in this setting – everything around him speaking of the spiritual reality that he’s communicating.
Living Water
The living water he offers is greater than the water from this Well, given to them to nourish their people and animals for generations but that will always leaving them thirsting for more. Representative of their traditions and the significance of place. He says: “‘Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’”
This living water is a refrain in the bible and of Jesus’s ministry – pointed to by the prophets – Isaiah 55:1 “Come to me all how are thirsty, come to the waters” and spoken of in Revelation 21:6: ““To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life.” And later in John 7, he explains: “‘Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.’ 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.”
Living water, welling up within us to eternal life – the Spirit given to sustain our whole lives saturating and hydrating us. Slaking our thirst better than any glass of water ever could.
And it says something about the nature of the Holy Spirit. Who is a person of the Trinity. But is also often described in elemental – variously a wind, now water. So the Holy Spirit has a substance which is essential for us to live and thrive, elemental in its nature.
While they want to worship God on the mountain and on the heights, God is actually inviting her (and us) to drink from the depths. This water source is deeper than a well. In the words of David: “Deep calls to deep…”
Despite our earnestness and properness, we can be worshipping God in all the wrong ways and all the wrong places. It might be determined by how we’ve been brought up, our conditioning or the way we’ve always done things. By misguided religious practices, by nostalgia or sentimentality even, or by traditions that are insufficient alone to hold the magnitude of what God is doing. Those ‘mountains’, in specific places, religious practices or ways we’ve met with God before aren’t invalid but in the end we can miss Jesus. There he was sitting by Jacobs’ Well, at the base of Mount Gerizim with all of it’s tradition and significance – himself the well of salvation sitting by this ancient well, offering living water. But she didn’t see him: “if you knew the gift of God” he says… until she did. Then it was a moment of the most incredible alignment, foreshadowing the outpouring of the Spirit when it will no longer be contained.

Man-made or eternal?
Lastly, there is a profound difference between a well and a spring. Wells are man-made, they are dug with effort, they are built and constructed by us – people, civilisations and religious institutions, to sustain us. And they do. They contain our [water] source, but we have to keep returning, keep drawing water. As Jesus says to the Samaritan Woman: “‘Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again”.
And when we rely on our own identity – well-defended or justified as it may be, or rely on a place, history, tradition, conventions: drawing this water becomes laborious – it ultimately relies on man’s intervention and our own efforts and initiation to sustain us.
However, a spring is natural, effortless – it is self-sustaining: “whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’ Imagine that. A spring that will well up, sustaining and nourishing us – welling up – producing in us eternal life – bringing our spirits to life, and nourishing our entire lives. Truly living water.
No wonder she says, “give me this living water!”
© Alexandra Noel – All Rights Reserved May 2025



