The Conversation at the Well

Dear Readers, Friends, and Family,

This is not systemic theology, rather an exposition on what may have been going on at the well.

She was the last person anyone expected Him to talk to — scandal written all over her, carrying shame like a jar on her shoulder. Yet Yeshua went directly to her, not around her. Why? Because this is who He is. This is the heart of God revealed in the dust of the road and the draw of a well.

At the Well

1 Now when Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing more disciples than John

2 (although Jesus himself did not baptize, but only his disciples),

3 he left Judea and departed again for Galilee.

4 And he had to pass through Samaria.

5 So he came to a town of Samaria called Sychar, near the field that Jacob had given to his son Joseph.

6 Jacob’s well was there; so Jesus, wearied as he was from his journey, was sitting beside the well. It was about the sixth hour.

We see something important here about the heart of Christ, and it is worth pausing to notice. The Jews of that time had no dealings with Samaritans. They would not even speak to them. But Yeshua, being Yeshua, chose to show us what it means to love like the Father.

Instead of bypassing Samaria — as was the cultural custom — He walked right in. He did it strategically, preordained. He was thirsty, so He went to the well. Yet more than thirst brought Him there. He placed Himself where He was unexpected, at a time He was unexpected, to speak with the last person anyone would expect Him to talk to: the town’s scandal, the woman with five husbands and a man not her husband. By design, He shattered the religious assumptions of the day.

The Conversation

7 A woman from Samaria came to draw water. Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.”

He treats her like any other person, though He already knows everything about her.

8 (For his disciples had gone away into the city to buy food.)

He uses this quiet moment to draw her near, to reveal Himself.

9 The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a woman of Samaria?” For Jews have no dealings with Samaritans.

She was probably thinking, “Say what??” She had likely been raised to believe Jewish people were snobs, that there was no point speaking to them. Yet here Yeshua is, bypassing every cultural wall, knocking on her heart through an unconventional conversation.

10 Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”

Now He begins dialogue, baiting the hook with mystery, truth, and promise. He wants to raise her thinking beyond the tangible and toward the spiritual.

11 The woman said to him, “Sir, you have nothing to draw water with, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water?”

Inside she’s probably thinking, “Yep, they were right. My parents said never talk to them.” Her eyebrows raised in shock and incredulity — she senses something is different, but she doesn’t yet know what kind of different. She retreats to the ordinary, not ready to see that He is speaking of greater things.

12 “Are you greater than our father Jacob? He gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did his sons and his livestock.”

Here she’s deflecting. “Ok, time to fall back on the old argument, stir things up, maybe He’ll leave me alone so I can get my water before the others show up and start staring.”

13 Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again,

14 but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

Yeshua cracks the door wider. He knows she just wants to get on with her day. So He offers something she knows doesn’t exist — something that requires faith to believe. It’s not just about water. It’s about her shame, the looks, the whispers. This is an offer of dignity and life.

Revelation

15 The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water.”

She’s sold — at least for relief from her immediate troubles. “Save me from this daily shame and I’m in.”

16 Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come here.”

17 She answered, “I have no husband.”

18 Jesus replied, “You are right… you have had five husbands, and the one you now have is not your husband. What you have said is true.”

Yeshua sets the hook. “Bam. Guess what — I know you. I’ve seen you all along. And still I love you. Always.”

19 The woman said, “Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet.”

She knows this is dangerous ground. He is different. He knows what He shouldn’t be able to know.

20 “Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, but you say that in Jerusalem is the place where people ought to worship.”

She tries to deflect again. Maybe she can sidestep this intimacy by dragging Him into the old arguments.

21 Jesus said, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father.

22 You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews.

23 But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship him.

24 God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.”

He reveals it all. “Both sides are missing it. The place isn’t the point. The Spirit is.” We are the cathedral, grown in bone and blessed.

25 The woman said, “I know that Messiah is coming (he who is called Christ). When he comes, he will tell us all things.”

26 Jesus said, “I who speak to you am he.”

Revelation. No clouds. No riddles. Just clear declaration.

The Harvest

27 Just then his disciples came back. They marveled that he was talking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you seek?” or, “Why are you talking with her?”

They thought it, but they didn’t dare say it.

28 So the woman left her water jar and went away into town. She said to the people,

29 “Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?”

30 They went out of the town and were coming to him.

She was the spark. The one Yeshua went for. And what a blaze she lit as the town came running. She heard, she believed, she received.

31 Meanwhile the disciples urged him, “Rabbi, eat.”

32 But he said, “I have food to eat that you do not know about.”

33 So they said, “Has anyone brought him something to eat?”

34 Jesus said, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work.”

His disciples worried about His body, but Yeshua overflowed with joy. Children were coming to the Father. Glory was breaking in.

35 “Do you not say, ‘There are yet four months, then comes the harvest’? Look, I tell you, lift up your eyes, and see that the fields are white for harvest.

36 Already the one who reaps is receiving wages and gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together.

37 For here the saying holds true, ‘One sows and another reaps.’

38 I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor. Others have labored, and you have entered into their labor.”

Yes, the harvest was ready — and she was the seed.

39 Many Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony.

40 They asked Him to stay, and He remained with them two days.

41 Many more believed because of His word.

42 They said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know this is indeed the Savior of the world.”

Reflection

One woman. One conversation. An entire town transformed.

He went specifically to her. Through her, an entire people believed. We build walls. He breaks them. We avoid the shamed. He seeks them out.

Consider this: Do we approach others the way Yeshua approached the Samaritan woman?

Do we see each new person we meet as an opportunity for a well conversation? It may feel uncomfortable, but it could change everything.

And so you know, it can be done many ways. In fact, this writing is my well conversation with you, and with the world.