Sunday, 15 February 2026

A Betrothal (John 4:1-42)

A Familiar Storyline

Imagine you’re watching a sports movie, and a ragtag team of down-and-out players get clobbered in their first game. Or imagine you’re watching a romantic comedy, and the female lead has just met a man who is the opposite of her in every way. These scenes are so common in our culture that you can guess what’s going to happen next. In the first case, we have an underdog story. The scruffy sports team are going to be whipped into shape, and they’re going to rise from the ashes and win the championship in dramatic fashion. In the second scenario, we have a classic opposites-attract comedy. Through a series of awkward but increasingly endearing encounters, the woman and man are going to fall in love and get married.

Every storytelling culture has familiar plots like these with various cues that indicate to the discerning audience what is going to happen next. In the Old Testament, one of the most cherished storylines tells how a man meets his future wife. There are six essential ingredients to this storyline. To illustrate, I’ll refer to the story of Jacob in the book of Genesis.

First, a man makes a journey to a foreign territory. Jacob, you’ll remember, has fled home to escape his murderous brother, Esau. Second, the man meets a woman at a well. Jacob, you’ll recall, meets Rachel when she comes to a well to water her father’s flock. Third, someone draws water in a gesture of care for the other. Fourth, there is a hurried sharing of news as the woman rushes home to tell of the encounter. In Jacob’s story, Rachel runs to the tell her father, Laban. Fifth, there is a show of hospitality to the traveler, usually an offer of food and lodging. In Jacob’s case, Rachel’s father, Laban, welcomes Jacob to stay for a month. Sixth, and last of all, the man and woman are betrothed with the blessing of the surrounding family or community.

While we’ve looked only at Jacob’s story, there are several others that follow this pattern, most notably the betrothal of Isaac and Rebekah in Genesis 24 and the betrothal of Moses and Zipporah in Exodus 2. (The betrothal of Ruth and Boaz follows a similar pattern, although it makes a few minor adaptations.)

With these six elements of the betrothal-at-a-well storyline fresh in our mind, let’s turn now to this morning’s scripture, John 4:1-42.

A Woman at a Well in Foreign Territory

5 [H]e came to a Samaritan city called Sychar—in other words, Jesus is now in foreign territory—near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. 6 Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon.

In foreign territory, Jesus stops at a well. Is it a coincidence that John tells us it’s Jacob’s well? Could he be inviting his audience to remember what happened long ago when Jacob stopped at a well?

7 A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” 8 (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) 9 The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) 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.” 11 The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? 12 Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” 13 Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, 14 but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” 15 The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.”

Here we see a twist on the third element of the betrothal-at-a-well storyline. A tired Jesus first asks the Samaritan woman for a drink of water. (Even though John doesn’t make it explicit, I assume she gives Jesus a drink even as they continue their conversation.) The twist comes when Jesus in turn offers the woman water of his own—“living water,” that is, water that will ensure a person never go thirsty again. (We’ll learn in a moment just how spiritually thirsty this woman has been.)

A Mismatch

16 Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” 17 The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband,’ 18 for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!”

Traditional interpretation takes a rather dim view of the woman for having five husbands and living now with a man not her husband. But it’s equally possible—especially in that time and place, in that deeply patriarchal society where women were regularly talked about as property and could be divorced at the smallest whim of a displeased husband—it is equally possible that this woman has been severely mistreated and is desperately seeking some security in life. A grown, unmarried woman in the ancient Near East was in a particularly vulnerable position and would likely not be able to provide for herself. I don’t think it would be a stretch to say that this woman is spiritually parched—spiritually thirsty to the point of death, wondering each night how she was going to make it in what seemed like a cruel, unkind world.

19 The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet. 20 Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” 21 Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. 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 seeks such as these to worship him. 24 God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” 25 The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” 26 Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”

If this encounter at a well is leading to a betrothal, it cannot be overstated how mismatched this couple is. First, the woman is not quite what you’d call eligible in her culture, as she has been married five times. She has perhaps herself given up on the idea of marriage. Next, she is a Samaritan, which as we see in the preceding verses means she is not only ethnically different than a Judean but religiously different as well, worshiping on a different mountain and with some different traditions. In short, then, she would appear to be ethnically, religiously, and morally disqualified from a betrothal to this man.

Which makes it all the more astounding what Jesus does here. Jesus reveals himself completely—gives himself to this woman in a way he has not given himself to anyone else. This is the first instance in the gospel of John where Jesus reveals himself to be the messiah. And he says it not to his disciples or fellow Judeans but to a foreign “heathen” of ill repute. Thrice disqualified in the eyes of her world, but she is the one to whom Jesus chooses to give himself completely. If we take nothing else from this story, this one point would be enough. Nothing disqualifies us from God’s love. No misdeed, no failure, no habit, no addiction—nothing disqualifies us (or anyone else!) from the advances of Christ, who gives himself completely to us.

Transformed by Love

27 Just then his disciples came. They were astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you want?” or, “Why are you speaking with her?” 28 Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, 29 “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” 30 They left the city and were on their way to him. …

If you’ll remember, after the drawing of water comes the hurried sharing of news, which is precisely what we get here. That the Samaritan woman leaves her jar of water suggests just how much of a rush she’s in. She can’t wait to tell others in her town what’s happened to her. (As the CWF group who studied this story on Tuesday pointed out, leaving her jar of water behind may also symbolize that she is leaving behind her old life of despair. She now has water that satisfies.) While many readers take the woman’s proclamation—“Come and see a man who told me everything I’ve ever done!”—as an exclamation of wonder at Jesus’ omniscient or all-knowing character, I’m inclined to think her wonder has more to do with Jesus’ all-accepting character. That is, this man knows everything I’ve ever done and instead of judging and condemning me (as everyone else does), he has given me himself completely. Or in more basic terms: “He loves me!”—rather than “he loves me not.”

A Transfiguration

39 Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I have ever done.”

Jesus’ acceptance transforms the Samaritan woman to such an extent that her neighbors look on her with a wonder similar to her own wonder. “How she has changed! How she holds herself, how brightly she beams! Whatever she’s encountered, it must be real. How else would she be so different?” And so they believe too in this incredible love and acceptance—that the messiah would come to them!

As a brief aside, it’s worth noting that today is Transfiguration Sunday. Traditionally we read the scripture where Jesus ascends a mountain with Peter, James, and John, and he is suddenly transformed into a bright, shining figure, his glory completely revealed. But today’s scripture reminds us that Jesus’ glory is not an isolated reality over and against us. It is rather a revelation of all creation’s glory, including our own. John calls Christ the Word, the “logos,” which is to say, Christ is the underlying logic of reality, the pattern of the universe, the fabric in and from and through which we are all woven. He reveals our true nature as beloved, glorious children of God. Thus Paul says, “All of us…seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed [or transfigured] into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (1 Cor 3:21-23). I like how Bernard of Clairvaux, a 12th-century monk, puts it: “In giving me himself, he [Christ] gave me back myself.” We see this in the Samaritan woman, to whom Jesus gave himself completely—and see how she was transformed—transfigured. How she came to inhabit her true self as a daughter of God.

“…and the Soul Felt Its Worth”

40 So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them, and he stayed there two days.

Here we have the fifth, penultimate element in our betrothal-at-the-well story, the show of hospitality. I imagine much of Jesus’ two days was spent with the Samaritans sitting at tables, breaking bread.

41 And 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 that this is truly the Savior of the world.”

The final element of the betrothal-at-the-well story is the betrothal itself. And that’s the one element that seems to be missing. Its absence threatens to undo this entire comparison I’ve been making.

For those who may doubt the case I’ve been trying to make or need a little extra convincing that John intends to portray this scene as a betrothal, I would point out that only verses before today’s scripture (back in John 3:29), Jesus is referred to by John the baptizer as a “bridegroom.” That’s a curious coincidence. And it’s not the only one. In the chapter before that, John 2, Jesus performs the first sign of his ministry. Where? At a wedding.

All of this leads me to believe that a betrothal does take place at the end of today’s scripture. Not a literal betrothal, to be sure, but a spiritual one. “Betrothal” comes from the old English word for “truth,” and it means something like “to be true.” When Christ betroths himself to us, revealing his true self and his desire for us, we learn our own true selves as blessed and beloved children of God. His transfiguration kindles our own.

Or as it is put so beautifully in the Christmas hymn, “O Holy Night”: “Long lay the world in sin and error pining, till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.” His glory…reveals our own. He appeared…and the soul, finally, felt its worth.

Prayer

God of longing,
Who knows everything we have ever done
And still looks upon us
As the apple of your eye—
Open our hearts to receive and believe
The good news that you love us
As we are

May the woman at the well inspire us
To leave behind our old jar of water—
Our old, false self of shame and fear—
And to drink instead
From the living water of your love,
Where our soul knows its worth.
In Christ, whose glory reveals the glory of all creation: Amen.

 

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