“Will you give me a drink?”
John 4:5-42
Rev. Emily Labrecque, Westmoreland UCC
March 8, 2026
Our scripture today was read in a readers theater style because this is indeed the longest conversation Jesus has with someone in the gospels. And isn’t it interesting that this conversation happens with someone who is, very practically speaking, the exact opposite of Nicodemus, our character from last week. If we look at them side by side we see a distinct comparison:
- Nicodemus is a man. The Woman is, well, a woman.
- Nicodemus was named. The Woman is not given a name.
- Nicodemus is well respected among religious authorities. The Woman is an economically disadvantaged divorcee and/or widow.
- Nicodemus is an elected official. The Woman is ostracized by her own people.
- Nicodemus is a Jew. The woman is a Samaritan, who the Jews considered to be heretics.
- Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night. The woman meets Jesus in the noonday sun.
- Nicodemus didn’t understand by the end of the first conversation and continued to hide in the shadows. The Woman understood Jesus as the messiah immediately and began sharing her witness with others.
This encounter at the well is supremely radical, on both the part of Jesus and the Woman. Jesus, a Jew, were he to follow customs, should not have talked to her because she was a woman, she was alone, and she was a Samaritan. Jews and Samaritans had centuries of mutual hostility, religious disagreement, and violence between them. Jesus had other paths he could have traveled to get to where he was going. But instead, he deliberately chose to travel through Sychar in Samaria and stop at a well. The Samaritan woman was likely scared to approach him. She knew of this history between the Jews and her people. She could have been in real danger.
But there they stood, in the heat of day, having what became a life changing conversation. While Jesus had his literal thirst quenched, the Samaritan woman had her spiritual life renewed. Jesus stood there and said: I see you. All of you. And you are beloved.
Perhaps the tensions between the Jews and Samaritans are ringing some bells this morning. As we know, the United States government, along with the state of Israel have chosen to bomb the people of Iran and its neighboring countries. The United States and Iran have a complex history. It is not my role to rehash the history or current geopolitical realities because I am a pastor not a political scientist or historian. I do not understand all the nuances nor do I have all the facts.
However, I can say with certainty, despite what our government officials might say, this is not Armageddon. This is not a holy war designed to bring about the return of Jesus. The rhetoric from the US government that this attack on Iran is supposed to cause the biblical end times because Iran is run by “religious fanatic lunatics”[1] is islamophobic, xenophobic, and a result of white christian nationalism. Full stop.
White Christian Nationalism is, as Rev. Leah Schade puts it, “a political ideology that distorts and weaponizes Christian teachings to legitimize and advance an aggressively patriarchal, racist, and ethnocentric agenda.”[2] You might think, “who could possibly believe in such an ideology?!” The answer is troubling, but not surprising. People who are seeking a sense of belonging and purpose, those who are losing their social status, particularly if they’re white, who want to be able to exercise some sense of power in their lives ... all of this can lead one to embrace white Christian nationalism. It can be alluring to join a movement where you feel a part of something.
But that something is dangerous. Because bad theology kills people.
Methodist Pastor Sue Greenland wrote this week:
”The Jesus of the gospels does not outsource his return to geopolitical chaos. He does not subcontract holy war to presidents, generals, or anyone else with access to a microphone. He does not need a nation to “light a signal fire” for him — as though the Lord of heaven and earth is waiting for us to strike the match.
Armageddon ... is symbolic language meant to reveal the limits of human power, not a military objective to be achieved. Turning it into a foreign‑policy strategy is not bold faith; it’s bad [theology] with a side of hubris.
And let’s be clear: Jesus does not anoint people to start wars. Jesus anoints the poor, the brokenhearted, the peacemakers, the ones who hunger for justice. The only fire he lights is the fire of mercy, compassion, and truth.”
Like most wars, this one too has started in part as the result of “othering”— that is, treating a person or a group of people like they are intrinsically different to yourself. But the demonization and dehumanization of others, whether here or abroad, will always, always make peace more difficult to create. Violence does not advance the Peaceable Realm. Coercion does not advance the Peaceable Realm. Hate does not advance the Peaceable Realm. History tells us that in moments like this, our Muslim neighbors, our Iranian American neighbors, our Sikh neighbors will bear the cost of this rhetoric in their daily lives. The same will happen again if we aren’t vocal about our opposition toward what is happening and offer our care and concern for our wider community. The world, and right now our national leaders, promise us that peace can come through war. Promise us that violence will somehow quench our thirst for safety. That the living water we need can be found at the bottom of a well filled with bombs and tanks and nuclear power.
But, as followers of Jesus, we know that this is simply not true.
While Jesus didn’t literally anoint the woman at the well, his conversation did indeed provide an opportunity for this woman to be seen and heard and fulfilled in new ways. She was so transformed that her community came out to discover it for themselves. She had been given a source of living water that would quench her thirst so she could live with dignity, unburdened and empowered. Because that’s exactly what it means when Jesus welcomes us in and we welcome him in in return. And that’s exactly what it looks like when we build a bridge to be in relationship with those who are radically different from us. We must be loud in our love before harm comes, not after.
Beloveds, Nicodemus had the luxury of sitting with his questions for as long as it took for him to come around. But the woman at the well left her water jar on the ground and went immediately. The urgency of this moment calls us to be like her. We have been given the gift of living water. May we accept that gift wholeheartedly and give it to others in return. May the living water that courses through our lives move us to make peace, and not war; to create communities of dignity, freedom, and joy where thirst can be quenched and lives lived to the fullest.
Amen.
