Lectionary Readings: Year A – Third Sunday in Lent
Several years ago, I heard a story by Pastor Tony Campolo. He says that he was out one day, and saw an old homeless man walking toward him. The man was filthy. He had stuff caked on his skin, and he had a beard down to his waist that had food stuck in it. The man had a cup of coffee, and as he got near Pastor Tony, he said, “Hey mister! You want some of my coffee?” Now, as you can imagine, that’s the last thing Pastor Tony wanted, but he knew it was right to accept this man’s generosity, so he took a sip. After he handed the cup of coffee back, he said, “You’re getting pretty generous, aren’t you, giving away your coffee? What’s gotten into you today that’s made you so generous?” The man looked at him and said, “Well, the coffee was especially delicious today, and I figure if God gives you something good, you ought to share it with people!”
And Pastor Tony thought to himself, Wow, this guy set me up pretty good. I’m going to have to give him five bucks or something. So he said to the man, “I suppose there’s something I can do for you in return, isn’t there?” And the man said, “Yeah! You can give me a hug!” Pastor Tony really wished the guy had asked for five dollars instead. And so he gave the man a hug, and realized, this man wasn’t going to let go.1
In case you’re wondering why I bring up this story today, think of it from the perspective in Pastor Tony’s story. Here was someone that society would deem a nobody, a person of no importance, a person without influence. And, to boot, this person was dirty and smelly. According to society, an undesirable person to be around.
In today’s Gospel, we run across Jesus, sitting at Jacob’s Well, thirsty from the day’s travels. And along came a woman, a Samaritan, to draw water out of the well. Jesus speaks to her, and asks her for a drink. And the Samaritan woman is shocked that Jesus even speaks to her.
You see, by all cultural standards, Jesus should not have been talking to her. First, gender norms considered it improper for a Jewish man to be speaking to a woman in public. Especially someone like Jesus, who was a rabbi. Moreover, we find out that Jesus already knew all about her life, and the fact that she was married five times, and was now living with a man who was not her husband made her ritually unclean according to the laws of the land. But most importantly, the two of them were of differing faiths and cultures. The Jews and the Samaritans were a people who held mutual contempt for each other. They would not have been caught dead speaking with each other, and would have expected animosity and hatred from one another. The Samaritans believed that they were the true descendents of Abraham, and opposed those who had returned from Babylonian exile. In other words, they considered each other undesirable. It was a conflict of identity – who were the real people of God?
You can probably imagine the internal battle going on in people who saw Jesus and this woman talking: “Those two are breaking all sorts of rules and regulations! How can they do such a thing! Don’t they know that this is wrong?!” Think of someone you consider undesirable. Someone you think should be hated and shunned. … Now imagine Jesus sitting with them, and treating them with respect. I’m betting that causes you just a small bit of internal conflict. I know it does for me, because I would often prefer to have a Jesus who kicks some people in the shins, and tells them they’re going to have to find a new place to spend the afterlife.
But here we are. Jesus is talking with a woman. A nobody, a person without much influence, a person of not much importance, and a true undesirable by the cultural standards of the day – and he asks her for a drink. And so, when she asks, “Why are you talking to me, a Samaritan woman?” Jesus responds, “If you knew the generosity of God, and knew my identity – who I really am – you would be asking me for a drink. Because I have living water.” And, of course, this woman is confused by that answer.
But as the conversation progresses, you begin to see the light go on in this woman’s mind. At first, she’s excited about a type of water that will allow her not to have to draw water from a well, and then as Jesus tells her about her life, and lets her know that he knows all about her, she at first says, “Hey! You’re a prophet!” And then she continues, “Look, you Jews say we are supposed to worship in Jerusalem, but my ancestors have always worshiped on this mountain here, so what gives?” And Jesus says, “Soon you’ll worship God, not here on this mountain, or in Jerusalem, but you’ll worship from your heart, being authentically yourself.” And again, the woman says, “Yeah, I’m not sure I understand all that, but I do know the Messiah is coming, and when he does, he’ll teach us everything we are supposed to know.” And that’s when it gets exciting because Jesus says, “Now you’re getting it! That’s me! I’m that guy!” Imagine the excitement this woman must have felt, at Jesus telling her something good.
But, before we can continue with this storyline, we need to talk about the disciples, who come back at the most awkward moment. They’d been buying food, you see, and now when they show up, they have the shock of their lives. Just like the woman was shocked that Jesus would speak to her, the disciples are equally shocked. What on earth is Jesus doing, talking to this woman?
Well, the woman, feeling a bit unwelcome around these disciples who are not talking to her, leaves her water jug and goes off. And in the conversation, Jesus tells the disciples that when the fields are ripe for harvest, they need to take advantage of it. But what’s interesting, is that the disciples cannot see that this field – this village of Samaritans – is ripe for the harvest. Ripe for bringing the good news of the kingdom of heaven. You have to realize that this was quite a slap in the face for the disciples. It wasn’t just a “Hey guys, look around you, do you think something cool is happening?” This was much more direct. Jesus is basically saying to them, “Look around you guys. You’re so worried that I’m talking to a woman. To a Samaritan. You’re worried about the fact that the people around us are not like us. You’re so focused on the fact that they are undesirables, that you don’t even see that they are ready to believe and that they want to join God’s family.”
Yeah. It really was a slap in the face. And to underscore this point, John’s Gospel returns us to the story of the woman, and the rest of the people in the village. After the woman left the well because the disciples were giving her the stink eye and not talking to her, we see that she goes off and says to the people in her village: “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?”
Now, if we jump back to the beginning of John’s gospel, we see the story of the disciples of John the Baptist following Jesus – a story we heard several weeks ago – and Jesus turns around and says to these men, “Why are you following me?” And those men ask him where he is staying, an indicator that they wanted to become his disciples. And Jesus says, “Come and see.”2
This woman. This Samaritan woman, this undesirable according to Jesus’ own disciples, has had a meeting with the Messiah. Jesus has revealed his identity to her, and she then goes off to her village, telling all the people, “Come and see.” In other words, this woman, this undesirable woman, had become a disciple, an evangelist, and had begun the work of reconciling the world to God, by bringing in the harvest.
Jesus looked at the disciples and said, “You want to be my disciples, but you could not see past your own upturned noses to see that this field of Samaritans was ready for the harvest.” And then we are told that this woman has brought many people from the village to see Jesus at the simple invitation to “Come and see.” And these Samaritans follow Jesus, and become children in the family of God. Now who are the real people of God? The Jews, or the Samaritans? Or is it simply those who believe?
Last week we heard the story of Nicodemus. He was a man, a Jew, a person of some importance, because he was a leader of the Jews. He had influence. He would have been the desirable choice for all of Jesus’ teachings. And while for him the process was slow, he eventually came around to following Jesus. This woman, however, was almost the direct opposite of Nicodemus. And yet, we hear of her work in bringing about the kingdom of heaven. After hearing in the story about Nicodemus that “God so loved the world… that everyone who believes in him would have eternal life,” we are given an example of exactly what those words mean in this story of the woman at the well, and the Samaritan village that ended with new believers. What better way than to make sure that the generosity of God – God’s love for everyone – is evident to all, than in watching as an entire village full of people that the disciples considered undesirable is brought into the Family of God?
In the story about the homeless man I shared earlier, Pastor Tony realized that as people were staring at a well-dressed man hugging a homeless guy, and as his embarrassment turned to awe, that God was reminding him that this was a divine appointment for him to understand the love of God: “Whatever you did for the least of these, you did for me.”
The least of these – the undesirables – those the world considers nobodies, of no importance, without much influence, those people might hate and despise, and certainly not anyone we would want to spend time with.
But Jesus would. And Jesus did. Jesus spent two days with the people in the village, sharing with them the good news of the Kingdom of God. Because God so loved the world. The well-educated, the well-dressed people of influence like Nicodemus, and this foreign woman, a nobody, without much influence, along with her friends and family.
Are we like the disciples, who couldn’t get past their own upturned noses, and who couldn’t get past their own cultural biases and personal hatreds to see nothing but undesirables instead of future Children of God? Or are we like the Samaritan woman in the Gospel, and the homeless man in the story who said, “I figure if God gives you something good, you ought to share it with people!”?
“If you know God’s generosity – if you know how much Love God has to give to everyone you would ask him, and he would give you living water … water that becomes a spring gushing up to eternal life.”
[This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on March 8, 2026.]