John 5:4-13

4 Now he had to pass through Samaria.

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

6 Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired from his journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon.

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

8 (His disciples had gone into town to buy food.)

9 The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)

10 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.”

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

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

13 Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again,

14 but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all.

Dear congregation,

What a wonderful story! From the very beginning, it is clear that this is about more than just a chance encounter between two people at an ordinary well. This is about life, about becoming truly alive again.

One of them is Jesus. He is tired. John stays true to his message: he tells of a God who became fully human—tired and exhausted, longing for a drink of water. But in his encounter with the woman, he reveals who he truly is: the living Word of God. Jesus speaks in a way that brings the woman to life.

She too is tired and drained. She has no energy left. How wonderful it would be if there were running water so she wouldn’t have to keep returning to the well. She, too, is fully human, weighed down by the daily struggles of life, by exhaustion and weariness.

Deep inside her, there is a longing—long dormant—a hope to feel truly alive again.

This is where the story begins, and it draws me in. I want to look closer. What is John telling us here? And then I notice the details: this is not just any well; it is Jacob’s well. The name carries history. It immediately signals that this story is about something deeper.

John also emphasises: Jesus had to go through Samaria. But did he really? There were other routes. He could have gone another way. This “had to go through Samaria” has a deeper meaning. Samaritans were the outsiders, separated from the Jews. They were the other. And yet, Jesus had to go there—because he had a mission. He came to bridge the divide, to overcome boundaries.

John tells us that Jesus crosses several barriers here. He breaks through the barrier of the past: faith had become weary, almost lifeless—at least, it no longer had much significance in the daily life of this woman. The old stories of Jacob and the ancestors—yes, she knew them. But they no longer gave her strength.

This is how many people today feel about the Bible. “Oh, those old stories!” Yes, they are interesting, historically important—but are they still relevant? Does the Church still matter? Is Jesus still important?

So many people are exhausted, weary. So many long for a break from the endless routine—always the same, always exhausting, yet never truly satisfying, never truly fulfilling.

This is what the woman at the well represents. She gets through her daily life. She hasn’t given up. She keeps going, day after day. She drinks the water, but she does not feel alive.

Then comes this encounter. Jesus—the tired, thirsty man. Is he weary from his mission? Has he seen too much suffering? How much more can he do? How can he help?

And the tired, thirsty woman—who stands at the well but thirsts for life itself.

These two meet, and through this conversation, something new happens. John tells it beautifully: how hard it can be to truly engage in a conversation. At first, it doesn’t work. The woman hears only what she expects to hear, and Jesus, too, struggles to reach her. It takes a moment for the encounter to unfold. I know that feeling too—when I am too tired to really listen, when someone speaks to me, but I assume I already know what they are going to say, so I don’t expect it to change anything. But slowly, the conversation develops. Both must overcome barriers. Both ask: “What do you want from me?” The woman is sceptical. She has had enough bad experiences with men. What does this stranger want from her?

She asks. She takes her doubts seriously. Does he just want water? But something about him makes her curious. What kind of Jew is this? What is his purpose?

“If you knew…” Jesus responds. If only you were willing to approach me with an open heart. And she does—slowly, she opens up. “Are you greater than our father Jacob?”

This question shows her surprise. Could something extraordinary happen here today, just like in the old stories? Could there be someone living now who is as significant as Jacob, the ancestor she has heard about all her life? Not a faith stuck in the past but a faith that is alive in the present.

I believe this is the heart of the story—and what should concern us today: How is Jesus alive among us? Do we speak of him in a way that makes people feel more alive through him?

Here, a thirst is quenched. A longing is fulfilled.

Can you relate to this woman who realises the importance of Jesus in her life? What would make you feel truly alive? What kind of conversation would help you overcome your own barriers and discover that faith is not just an old tradition but something alive today?

This is not a weary faith. Jesus is not a distant figure from history. Our trust in him is not an exhausted hope, but a true source of strength.

Look at the image: a real encounter, with many others in the background. That encourages me. What we experience in faith radiates outward to others.

From east and west, from north and south—people everywhere are searching for living water. Let us make our well visible. Let us make this place a well where people can encounter Jesus and come to life.

This congregation, this place, all of us—we are Jacob’s well. And here, the living water still flows. Let us share it— with the stranger, with the weary and exhausted.

Let us experience what Jesus promises: a deep fulfilment. Never thirsty again. Alive for eternity. May the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.