Surprise at the Well | March 8, 2026

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Grace to you and peace from God our Creator and the One who offers Living Water, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen

Have you ever noticed Jesus has a habit of saying things that don’t quite make sense?

Last week, reading from the third chapter of John, we heard Jesus tell Nicodemus that the way to enter the kingdom of God is to be “born from above” or “born again.”

Quite understandably, Nicodemus was a bit confused, and Jesus only sort of clarifies. Jesus talks about God’s spirit being like wind blowing where it chooses, not bound to our expectations or rules. But I suspect Nicodemus still had some questions when the conversation was over.

In today’s reading from John 4, Jesus says he has “living water” to offer, and everyone who drinks of his living water will never be thirsty again. Next week, Jesus will talk about being the light of the world. Elsewhere he’ll describe himself as the gate for the sheep, the good shepherd, the true vine, the way, the truth, and the life.

We need these metaphors to understand Jesus’ mission, but at the same time, I have questions after reading this story.

One of the things I really appreciate is that I’m not the only one with questions. And Jesus seems ok with that. Last week, we talked about Nicodemus’ bravery in bringing his questions to Jesus. Even though he came at night, in secret, he still came to Jesus, and he was brave enough to ask his questions, and then to seek clarification when he didn’t understand.

This week, we meet another character with questions. She’s known as the woman at the well, and in many ways, she’s the polar opposite of Nicodemus. He’s a man; she’s a woman. Nicodemus meets Jesus at night; she encounters him at noon, in a public place.

One notable difference is that John names Nicodemus, but leaves the woman anonymous. Much of that I’d say is cultural sexism—many women in the Bible are left nameless. But it also shows Nicodemus is a leader, a person with power, someone identifiable. The woman is the opposite.

Again, part of that is because she’s a woman, but beyond that, many scholars have pointed out that it’s unusual to come to the well to draw water in the middle of the day, when it’s hot. Typically, you get water first thing in the cool of the morning, or later in the evening. Coming at noon is a way to avoid people, to keep to yourself. She seems to be on the margins of society.

Another difference we might miss: Nicodemus is a Pharisee, part of a strict sect of Jews who cared deeply about the rituals of temple worship. The woman is a Samaritan, part of a different group of people who historically (and to this day) believed in worshiping God not in the Jerusalem temple, but on Mount Gerizim in what’s now the West Bank. There are historical and theological reasons for that, but the short version is that Pharisees and Samaritans are pretty much opposites—and even though he argues with them a lot, Jesus is much closer to the Pharisees.

Nicodemus had come looking for Jesus, but in this story, Jesus is the one who initiates the encounter. She comes to the well as usual, and Jesus starts talking to her.

She’s surprised, because Jesus is violating all sorts of social norms here. Jewish rabbis first of all don’t come to this part of Samaria, don’t talk to Samaritans at all, and certainly don’t talk to unaccompanied Samaritan women. This is a surprise.

Last week, our theme was brave, right? Perhaps this week’s theme is surprise. This is a story full of surprises.

The woman is surprised a Jewish rabbi is talking to her, but it’s really what he says that is most surprising. She comes looking for some water, just like we assume she does every day, and she finds something much better. Jesus offers her living water, the gift of eternal life.

She’s been raised with the expectation that someday the Messiah will come, someday God will act, but she has no expectation that it’ll be right now, at the well. Today.

I wonder if that’s true for us as well—we’re more comfortable trusting God will act eventually, but we don’t expect anything too immediate. We don’t expect to run into the well, or for us, to run into God at Kwik Trip. We expect God to act eventually, but we’re not too sure about right now.

She’s not looking for eternal salvation right now, but that’s what she finds. And she’s so surprised that she leaves her water jug behind when she goes to share the good news with her neighbors. God shows up in surprising ways.

One of the challenges in this story is the cultural distance for us as readers. There’s a lot happening here that we just don’t know about, because this is not our culture.

One thing is that there are a lot of cultural stories about people meeting at wells. Some of them are in the Bible: Way back in Genesis, Jacob meets his future wife Rachel at a well. In Exodus, Moses meets his wife Zipporah at a well. Wells are places of romance; so when we hear about a woman meeting a man at a well, we know what ought to be coming. This sounds like a meet-cute story.

But as Pastor Laura talked about in her sermon on Wednesday, Jesus flips the script. He’s not there for romance, but to offer eternal life. He’s not there to receive regular water, but to share living water. Jesus’ bride will not be this woman, but the whole church—there’s another one of those Biblical metaphors that can be challenging to understand.

Another cultural piece that’s been misinterpreted is this woman’s moral status. I’ve been reading a couple biographies of famous Hollywood stars recently, and it’s amazing how many times some of them very publicly get married and divorced, how quickly they go through relationships. And this woman, Jesus says, has had five husbands, so she’s been cast by some as a “sinful woman.”

But in that culture, men are the ones with the power to divorce. More likely, she has been widowed, possibly several times, perhaps cast aside. Imagine the grief she’s gone through, the struggles she’s faced, her economic uncertainty.

We don’t know her story, but it’s likely a tragedy, especially because—this is important—Jesus does not call her to repent. He doesn’t accuse her of sin. He simply notices her, acknowledges her story, and offers her hope. Living water. A surprise from God.

When the disciples enter the scene a little later, they too are surprised. “Astonished” is the word our translation uses. They’re surprised Jesus is speaking with a woman, then they’re surprised he’s not hungry. But there’s an important difference: The disciples don’t do anything with their surprise.

They get stuck on earthly details, asking Jesus repeatedly to eat some food. Jesus tries to explain to them the deeper meaning of what’s happening, and they don’t get it. They end the story unchanged.

But the woman embraces the surprise, the mystery. She rejoices at this surprise interruption from God, and hurries to tell her neighbors. She welcomes the hope Jesus offers, the gift of living water.

I wonder, how do you react when God surprises you?

Think about your week ahead. Where would you be most surprised to find God interrupting your life? Where do you least expect God to show up offering grace?

In this season of Lent, we are invited to pay a little extra attention to our faith. We’re invited to be open to God interrupting, surprising us. We’re preparing, of course, for the biggest surprise of all, where even death cannot stop Jesus from offering forgiveness and grace.

And in the meantime, as we journey towards the cross, we drink from the living water. We are nourished by the bread of life.

Do those images make sense? Sometimes. And when they don’t, we rejoice that Jesus is willing to listen to our questions. Jesus is willing to meet us where we are.

May we be willing to be surprised. Amen