Sermon at Saint Margaret’s Anglican Church, Budapest (2026.03.08)Third Sunday in Lent, Year A

Exodus 17:1-7; Psalm 95; Romans 5:1-11; John 4:5-42

When Jesus takes a break for a drink at Jacob’s well in the noonday heat, John has already primed us to connect this narrative with the famous betrothal tropes of the founders of Israel. In the preceding two chapters, we read about the wedding feast at Cana (John 2) and John the Baptist’s “bridegroom” language (John 3), setting us up for that well-known biblical pattern: a man travels to foreign territory, arrives at a well where he meets a woman, water is drawn, then the woman goes back and reports the encounter to her family or town, hospitality follows and the meeting becomes connected with marriage. We see this pattern play out with Isaac and Rebekah in Genesis 24 (though it is a servant who goes to the well), Jacob and Rachel in Genesis 29, as well as Moses and Zipporah in Exodus 2. 

Furthermore, John goes out of his way to make sure we understand that Jesus and the Samaritan woman are alone at the well when he asks for a drink. However, instead of playing the “compliant maiden” role in the traditional well stories, the Samaritan woman objects to the request. She doesn’t refuse based on her own cultural norms (though she surely could have, since they mirrored the Jewish attitudes), but expresses surprise given Jewish customs, as Jews typically didn’t want to have anything to do with Samaritans. 

The discussion about “living water” that follows involves at least a double meaning – living water as fresh, flowing water, i.e. not drawn from a cistern; living water as the life Jesus gives by the Spirit; and perhaps even, by implication, the hope of future fruitfulness. However, the narrative takes an abrupt left turn, when instead of instructing her to go tell her father, Jesus tells her to go call her husband!

Whether out of shame or simply wanting to signal that she is single, her response that she does not have a husband leads Jesus to fill out the rest of the details for her: she has had five husbands, and the man she is currently with is not her husband. 

John gives us no explanation for the five marriages. Was she widowed five times? Rejected five times? We are not told. Nor are we invited to condemn her. But you get the impression that her life has certainly not gone the way she imagined it would have, and possibly without any children to care for her, perhaps even vulnerable. 

Whatever the case may be, the conversation abruptly shifts from her particular “situationship” to a theological debate in which Jesus reveals himself as the Messiah, and his words begin to widen beyond this one woman to the Samaritan people as a whole. But in order to make sense of their discussion about which mountain to worship on, some background is needed.

The Samaritans trace their lineage from Ephraim and Manasseh, the sons born to Joseph and his Egyptian wife after he was sold into slavery by his brothers. (If you have been joining us for MP, you know this story from Genesis well). Whether it was exacerbated by the historical memory of their patriarch being mistreated by his brothers, or simply gradual estrangement over the centuries, Samaritan and Jewish identity began to diverge, especially following the Assyrian conquest and subsequent deportation of the northern tribes of Israel in 722 BC.

Importantly, Joseph was buried in Shechem (modern day Nablus), which is flanked by two mountains – Gerizim and Ebal – also known as the Mount of Blessing and the Mount of Curse respectively, following Joshua’s reminder of the covenant Israel had made with YHWH before entering the Promised Land (Deut. 11, 27-28).

Furthermore, for Samaritans, Mount Gerizim was holy. They believed that it was here that Abraham nearly sacrificed Isaac, as well as the site God chose for his Temple, not Mount Moriah in Jerusalem.

Interestingly, the Samaritans only accepted the first five books of the Old Testament – the Torah/Law – and the Samaritan Pentateuch while largely sharing the same content as the Hebrew Scriptures, differs in a number of respects, including passages that support Mount Gerizim as the chosen place to build a Temple and offer sacrifices, something they did in the 5^th century BC. This temple was subsequently destroyed by the Jewish High Priest, John Hyrcanus in 112 BC, since the Jews viewed the sacrifices made there as heretical and a contravention of God’s Law.  

In short, the Samaritans were a branch of ancient Israel who saw themselves as the true preservers of Mosaic faith, whereas the Jews saw the Samaritans as a rival and heretical community. 

The truncated Samaritan canon also meant that their messianic expectations differed from those of many Jews. Samaritan hope was framed less around a triumphal Davidic king and more around a restorative prophet like Moses. Jesus’ resolution of this tension is striking. He affirms that salvation comes from the Jews, yet he also makes clear that salvation is not exclusive to the Jews. Indeed, the hour has come when worship will no longer be defined by Mount Gerizim or Jerusalem, but by worship of the Father in spirit and truth. (Jn 4:23). 

The woman at the well, now believing that Jesus may indeed be more than simply a prophet, abruptly leaves behind her water jar (like the disciples and their fishing nets), returns to the city, and tells the men to come and see, unafraid that they might reject her testimony as a woman with a complicated background. 

In the meantime, Jesus’ disciples return, perplexed by the situation with the woman, but are focused on food. Jesus, on the other hand, is focused on obedience. “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work” (Jn 4:34), echoing his statement in Matthew, “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Mt 4:4). 

The passage concludes with a discussion of the harvest and the labourers. Still early in the year, the harvest of grain was four months away.  However, the spiritual harvest of righteousness/holiness (“white” for harvest) was upon them, literally as the Samaritan men were approaching. Over the next two days, many of the Samaritans came to believe in Jesus, as “the Saviour of the world” (Jn 4:42), harking back to John 3:16-17 (“For God so loved the world”), and transcending both the limited Samaritan as well as Jewish notions of the Messiah!

Finally, John’s juxtaposition of Nicodemus in the previous chapter – the Pharisee who comes at night to see Jesus yet slips away in the cloak of darkness – in contrast to the response of this unnamed Samaritan woman and the harvest that her actions produced is worth pondering. If we were to map this story onto our lives, who do we most resemble? The woman? Jesus’ disciples, faithful but somewhat oblivious? Nicodemus, someone with too much to lose? The Samaritan men? 

And what would our families, our workplaces, our communities look like if we all did what this single Samaritan woman chose to do following her encounter with Christ? Inviting those around us to come and see if Jesus is the Messiah?

Jesus is preparing a great wedding banquet and our calling is to go and invite those “worshipping what they don’t know” to come and join in the feast.

Amen.