I. THE TRANSITION MOMENT (John 4:1–6; Mark 1:14; Matthew 4:12; Luke 3:19–20)

Last week, we witnessed the beginning of the end of John the Baptist’s public ministry. Today, we return to the account after his arrest. The prophet who called people to repentance by the Jordan is now locked behind prison walls. And in this moment of silence, Jesus doesn’t respond the way we might expect.

From a human perspective, it would make sense for Jesus to pick up where John left off. With the forerunner removed, it would seem natural for the Messiah to step into his place and carry on the same ministry. But Jesus does something else entirely.

Mark simply tells us that Jesus began His public ministry in Galilee after John was taken into custody. Matthew confirms the same sequence. Luke gives us added context, explaining that John had confronted Herod’s personal sin and suffered the consequences. Across all four Gospels, John’s arrest marks a shift.  But Jesus’s next move is unexpected. Rather than staying in Judea, the religious heart of Israel, He leaves. He travels north to Galilee. And in doing so, He chooses a path most Jews would have avoided. He goes through Samaria.

John’s Gospel makes a point of this choice: “Jesus had to go through Samaria” (John 4:4). That line invites us to look deeper. Jesus does not take the long, conventional detour around Samaria. He walks straight through it. And I believe that this decision is intentional and significant.

The history between Jews and Samaritans was marked by centuries of division, resentment, and religious hostility. The two communities distrusted and despised each other. Most Jewish travelers would go out of their way to avoid Samaritan territory altogether. But Jesus does not avoid it. He enters it directly.

Some have suggested that His choice was strategic. Jesus arrived quietly in Samaria, not as a public figure but as an ordinary traveler. There was no announcement, no spectacle. And in that humility, space was made for real encounters. Some have noted that Jesus bringing His message first to the Samaritans when Judea would not receive Him mirrors what would later happen through the apostles, as the Gospel moved beyond Jerusalem to the Gentile world. In this way, Jesus’s journey to Samaria might serve as a preview of God’s heart for every nation, every people, every outsider.

Eventually, Jesus arrives at a town called Sychar. Jacob’s well is there, and for both Jews and Samaritans, it is sacred ground.  Jesus, worn out from the journey, sits beside the well. Pause there. Let that image sink in. The Son of God, tired. Fully divine, yet fully human. Ambrose once wrote that Jesus grew weary so He could restore the weary. He thirsted so He could satisfy the thirsty. Augustine added that Jesus felt exhaustion because He carried fragile flesh like ours.

He sat at that well not only because He was tired, but because He was waiting. A woman was coming. A woman with a past, with questions, with burdens. She had no idea that heaven was about to meet her in the heat of the day.

II. THE ENCOUNTER AT THE WELL: THE GOSPEL GOES CROSS-CULTURAL (John 4:7–26)

Now picture the scene. The sun stands high in the sky. The heat presses down. Jesus, wearied from the journey, sits beside the well of Jacob. He is fully God, yet truly human. This is not an act. He is not pretending to be tired. He is participating fully in the experience of human weakness. We read that: “Jesus, wearied as He was from His journey, was sitting beside the well. It was about the sixth hour” (John 4:6, ESV).

Then a woman approaches. She carries her water jar, as she has no doubt done countless times before. This is her routine. She does not expect to be noticed, in fact many speculate she might have come to the well in the heat of the day (when most would be resting at home) to avoid being noticed. She has come for water, nothing more. But heaven is waiting for her at the well.

There are several things worth noting before a word is spoken. She is a woman. She is a Samaritan. And she is alone. Gender, ethnicity, and history all say this conversation should never happen. But grace is not bound by human rules or social customs. Jesus looks up and says to her, “Give me a drink” (John 4:7, ESV). The disciples are not present at this moment “for His disciples had gone away into the city to buy food” (John 4:8, ESV). It is only Jesus and this woman. 

The Samaritan woman is surprised. “How is it that You, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a woman of Samaria?” (John 4:9, ESV). She knows the barriers between them, but Jesus redirects her attention to something greater. “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” (John 4:10, ESV).

Now this woman came for physical water. Jesus offers her something deeper. The woman is puzzled. “Sir, You have nothing to draw water with, and the well is deep. Where do You get that living water?” (John 4:11, ESV). She is thinking of the well in front of her. Jesus is speaking of the life only He can give. “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:13–14, ESV).

The woman still does not fully understand, but she knows she wants it. She is tired of the daily weight, the lonely walks, and the quiet shame. She says, “Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water” (John 4:15, ESV).

Then Jesus shifts the conversation again. He says, “Go, call your husband, and come here” (John 4:16, ESV). As we will see, this is not a diversion. This is intentional on Jesus’ part. Grace meets us where we are but does not ignore the sins present in our lives. “The woman answered Him, ‘I have no husband.’ Jesus said to her, ‘You are right in saying, “I have no husband”; for you have had five husbands, and the one you now have is not your husband. What you have said is true’” (John 4:17–18, ESV).

He does not shame her. He names her story not to expose her, but to begin the work of healing. Now notice what she says next: “Sir,” she says, “I perceive that You are a prophet” (John 4:19, ESV). She brings up the long-standing religious divide. “Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, but you say that in Jerusalem is the place where people ought to worship” (John 4:20, ESV).

Many people, myself included, believe that this was a tactic to get Jesus away from a sore subject. She does not want to talk about her past relationships with men, and so she asks a religious question hoping to change the subject. 

As a pastor I can tell you that this is more common than you think. It is not uncommon for me to meet people who fixate on obscure or speculative theology, sometimes as a way to dodge personal conviction. Whether it’s the book of the Nephilim, the book of Enoch, Numerology, or a niche interpretation of some obscure passages in Revelation, these topics can become a safe haven from facing the harder work of repentance, obedience, and growth.

The problem isn’t the study itself; it’s when that study becomes an escape. Instead of grappling with clear commands like dying to self (Luke 9:23) or walking in the newness of life (Romans 6:4), some choose the comfort of abstract debate. They prefer to study complex passages that don’t cause them to change than to wrestle with the simple but difficult teachings of Jesus.  Paul warned about this in 2 Timothy 4:3–4, saying people with “itching ears” would drift from truth to myths.

Now I’m not saying that it is wrong to have a curiosity about these things, or that it is wrong to seek out understanding. Far from it. What I am saying is that good theology always results in good fruit. Sanctification is the Spirit shaping us into the image of Christ, not just making us more informed. Some people are fascinated by theological debates, but their prayer life is virtually non-existent. Some people love to research obscure bible passages, but they have no desire to combat sin in their life. I have family members who will message me with weird Bible questions because they saw some goofy documentary on the history channel, but they haven’t been to a Sunday morning worship service in decades. 

Jesus is wise and does not take the bait. Instead he lifts her eyes beyond the old debate. “Woman, believe Me, the hour is coming when neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father… But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship Him. God is spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4:21, 23–24, ESV).

She hears Him and hope begins to stir. “I know that Messiah is coming (He who is called Christ). When He comes, He will tell us all things” (John 4:25, ESV). Jesus replies with quiet clarity. “I who speak to you am He” (John 4:26, ESV). This is the first time in John’s Gospel that Jesus openly identifies Himself as the Messiah. He chooses to reveal this truth not to a religious scholar, a temple leader, or even one of His disciples, but to a Samaritan woman with a complicated past.

III. THE UNLIKELY WITNESS: FAITH SPREADS (John 4:27–30, 39–42)

Now about this time the disciples return to see their Rabbi is speaking with a Samaritan woman. In their minds, this breaks every social and religious boundary. A Jewish man, alone, conversing publicly with a Samaritan woman? They are shocked, but no one questions Jesus directly.

The Samaritan woman then leaves her water jar behind. It’s a small detail, but it carries great weight. “So the woman left her water jar and went away into town and said to the people…” (John 4:28, ESV). That jar had represented her burden, her daily routine, her isolation. But after meeting Jesus, she walks away from it. Augustine observed that she left behind the vessel of her earthly need because she had found eternal truth. She has tasted the living water and cannot keep it to herself.

She runs to the village and says, “Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?” (John 4:29, ESV). She doesn’t argue. She doesn’t preach. She simply invites. She does not say, “Believe,” but “Come and see.” This is the wisdom of an evangelist. She knows that if they hear Him for themselves, they will believe, just as she did.

Also notice how her belief has already transformed her. She was a woman who came alone to the well in the heat of the day, likely to avoid being seen by others. From what we know of her past, she was probably shamed by the women in her community and lived an isolated life as a result. But now, she is boldly telling everyone who will listen about the man she encountered at the well. She no longer identifies with her sin, but as a messenger of the Messiah. 

While she is testifying to her town, the disciples are urging Jesus to eat. “Rabbi, eat,” they say (John 4:31, ESV). But He refuses. “I have food to eat that you do not know about” (John 4:32, ESV). They are confused, thinking someone else has brought Him something. But Jesus is speaking of a different kind of nourishment. “My food is to do the will of Him who sent Me and to accomplish His work” (John 4:34, ESV).

He is filled, not with bread, but with purpose. Just as He proclaimed in Mark 1:15 that “the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand” (Mark 1:15, ESV), so here He embodies it. His satisfaction comes not from eating, but from redeeming. 

Then Jesus turns their attention outward. “Do you not say, ‘There are yet four months, then comes the harvest’? Look, I tell you, lift up your eyes, and see that the fields are white for harvest” (John 4:35, ESV).  Just then the Samaritans come into view, Jesus sees what the disciples do not. The people are ready. The harvest is not in the future. It is here. It is now. The time is fulfilled. The kingdom is not coming someday. It has arrived.

Jesus continues, “Already the one who reaps is receiving wages and gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together. For here the saying holds true, ‘One sows and another reaps.’ I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor. Others have labored, and you have entered into their labor” (John 4:36–38, ESV). Some had sown, the prophets, John the Baptist, and even the Samaritan woman herself. The disciples are now stepping into that work. The labor is shared, but the joy is the same. 

And now come the firstfruits of that harvest. “Many Samaritans from that town believed in Him because of the woman’s testimony, ‘He told me all that I ever did’” (John 4:39, ESV). But their belief deepens as they meet Jesus for themselves.

“They asked Him to stay with them, and He stayed there two days. And many more believed because of His word. 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 indeed the Savior of the world’” (John 4:40–42, ESV). 

What a confession. Not only the Savior of the Jews, but the Savior of the world. Not only for Jerusalem, but for Samaria. This moment anticipates Acts 1:8, where Jesus tells His disciples, “You will be My witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth” (Acts 1:8, ESV). 

The woman who came with shame now returns with boldness. The villagers who once looked down on her now listen to her. The disciples, who thought they were on a break, now witness a revival. And Jesus, though tired, is deeply satisfied. The harvest has begun. This is how the Gospel spreads, one changed life becomes the open door for many more. One unlikely witness turns into the voice that awakens a town. The time is now. The harvest is here. And the Savior of the world is among them.

V. THE GOSPEL MOVES OUTWARD

So what do we learn from a weary Messiah sitting by a well in a foreign land, asking for water from a woman the world had forgotten?

First, we learn that the Gospel moves. It does not stay confined to safe places. Jesus did not accidentally end up in Samaria. He was not simply avoiding conflict in Judea or taking the most efficient route to Galilee. He was on mission. There was a woman to meet, a city to awaken, and a harvest to begin. 

And here is the call to us: be ready for the unexpected. The Gospel does not only move inside temples or sanctuaries. It does not wait for polite conversations or scripted settings. It moves through street corners, hospital rooms, kitchen tables, and break rooms. It moves through you. Like Jesus, we need to be available. We need to be willing to stop and to be interruptible. Because the Spirit often schedules your most important moments on paths you didn’t plan to take.

Let us not overcomplicate what God has made beautifully simple. The woman at the well did not return to her town with a doctrinal summary or theological training. She did not even fully understand who Jesus was yet. But she had encountered Him, and that was enough.

Her invitation was raw and real: “Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?” (John 4:29, ESV). That was it. That simple testimony started revival in Samaria. That honest encounter sparked faith in the hearts of her neighbors. She didn’t tell them to believe. She told them to come and see. That is a Gospel that anyone can carry.

If you have met Jesus then you have all you need to begin. Tell someone. Invite them to see for themselves. You are not the Savior. You are the signpost pointing to Him. The Kingdom of God is not a future dream. It is not waiting on better timing or more favorable conditions. Jesus said, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:15, ESV). In Samaria, He did not just preach those words. He lived them. He gathered the fruit sown by the prophets and prepared the disciples to reap where they had not labored. 

Now it is our turn. The fields are still white. The harvest is still ready. The moment is still now. So what are we waiting for?