3 Lent, Yr A (2026) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield

3 Lent, Yr A (2026) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield

John 4:5-42                                                                                   St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church

In the name of the one, holy, and loving God:

in whom we live, and move, and have our being.  Amen.

Activist Shane Claiborne says,

“Violence is contagious.

“Violence begets violence.

“A rude look is exchanged for a cold shoulder.
             A middle finger for a honked horn.

“Hatred begets hatred.
             Pick up the sword and die by the sword.
                        You kill us and we’ll kill you.

“There is a contagion of violence in the world;
            it’s spreading like a disease.

“But grace is also contagious.

“An act of kindness inspires another act of kindness.

“A random smile is exchanged for an opened door.

“Helping someone carry their laundry or groceries makes them nicer….

 “A single act of forgiveness
            can feel like it heals the world.

“Grace begets grace.
            Love rubs off on those who are loved….”

[from Shane Claiborne, Executing Grace: How the Death Penalty Killed Jesus and Why It’s Killing Us]

Today’s gospel reading is the longest recorded conversation

between Jesus and anyone else in the gospels,

       and it is filled with tension, grace, and mercy.

It is a very hot day with the sun directly overhead –

it is the noon hour. 

The heat is beating down,

draining any semblance of energy.

There are no locals to be found. 

All the women came early in the cool of the new dawn to draw their water for the day. 

And all those who missed the morning cool

will just have to make do until evening time

when the sun begins to set…

and loses its heat once more.

However, one woman – a Samaritan woman –

specifically chooses this time to come to the well. 

She comes now because she knows she can draw water alone.

She doesn't have to endure the snide comments

       and finger-pointing from the other women.

Today as she approaches Jacob's well,

she notices a man sitting nearby,

but she goes on about her business,

paying him no mind. 

He is, after all, a Jewish man. 

As a Samaritan and a woman, she has nothing to say to him.

Yet, as she nears the well with her water jar,

this man dares to speak to her. 

"Give me a drink," he says. 

He, too, looks tired and worn-out, 

but he has a kindly look about his eyes. 

And although he makes a demand – "give me a drink" –

it comes across as an invitation,

         as a plea from someone in need who cannot help himself.

The woman is taken aback and doesn't quite know what to do. 

So, she responds by throwing up the barriers that are supposed to exist between them:

men and women don't talk to one another in public,

      and beyond that there has been racial hatred and bloodline and religious disputes

between the Jews and Samaritans for well over a century.

"Why are you talking to me?" she asks.

Jesus then tells her that if she, in fact, knew who he really was,

that it would be her asking him for living water. 

She doesn't understand because she thinks that he is talking about the water in the well,

and he has no bucket.

He then tells her that he offers a water such that those who drink it will never be thirsty again.

Well, that sounds mighty good to her. 

She won't have to keep trudging her way to this well with her bucket

and hauling the water home in the heat of the day every day.

So she says, "Sir, give me this water."

She is asking for his gift,

but she doesn't quite yet understand what it is that he is offering.

She simply wants her life made easier so that she will never have to draw water again.

It is not until the next portion of their conversation that she begins to understand.

Jesus invites her to go and call her husband and bring him back to the well.

At this point the woman has a choice. 

She can decide that this man is crazy:

he has overstepped his bounds of propriety,

       and she could well go home and not come back to the well. 

She could very well have said, "OK, I will go get my husband now" and disappeared forever.

But she doesn't. 

Somehow, on some level, she has already entered into a relationship with this man. 

Whether it was his kind eyes,

his gentle manner,

or his offer of living water,

she trusts this man.

So she responds in truth… 

the truth that she came to the well at this hour to avoid…

            the truth that she has been married five times and is now living with her lover.

You see, in her tradition,

anyone who was married more than three times was considered immoral and deviant.

This is why she avoided the other women at the cool of the day;

            she could no longer tolerate their judgment.

Somehow this man knows her history,

yet he places no blame. 

       He simply speaks things as they are.

"Sir, I see that you are a prophet." 

It is here that she begins to see and to understand who Jesus is,

but again she hides behind the differences between them,

pointing out their religious disputes as to where people must worship:

Mt. Gerizim or Jerusalem.

But Jesus continues to break down the barriers

saying that the true worshippers of God will worship in spirit and truth.

Place does not matter,

Human-created barriers do not matter.

Jesus then reveals to this woman that he is the Messiah;

now, she has already had a glimpse of that truth through his acceptance of her.

She doesn't quite understand what has happened to her,

but she knows that something has just changed,

            someone has just offered her living water.

Some stranger has just offered her a life of forgiveness and grace.

Her shame has melted away,

and she feels a little spring beginning to bubble up inside.

So she leaves her water jar right there beside the well.

She no longer needs the jar to transport the water –

the water is now inside her.

            She is the new vessel transporting living water.

She then returns to the city and tells the people there about this man

who told her everything she had done…

 this man who had seen her in all her brokenness

and had offered her mercy and new life.

The people came.

They listened.

And they entered into relationship with the one who offers living water.

They came to believe in the name of Jesus – the healer of the world.

Grace begets grace.

            Mercy begets healing.

In the words of Shane Claiborne,

“Grace offers us a vision for justice that is restorative

            and dedicated to healing the wounds of injustice.

“But the grace thing is hard work.

“It takes faith –

            because it dares us to believe that not only can victims be healed,

       but so can the victimizers.

“It is not always easy to believe that love is more powerful than hatred,

            life is more powerful than death,

        and that people can be better than the worst thing they’ve done.”  (Ibid.)

But…this is what Jesus tells us over and over and over again…

            in word and in action…

        in death and in resurrection.

My friends, Jesus offer us the invitation to partake of living water.

We have a choice. 

We may depart from here and hide behind our brokenness.

Or, we can own our truth and accept Jesus' offer of living water –

ourselves becoming the water jar for others.

We are invited to share the abundance of God’s mercy and grace with all

who are yearning for living water…

            and to invite them to join in worshipping God in spirit and truth. 

What will be our choice?

            The world awaits.

 AMEN.