Homilies on the Gospel of John
Homily 31 — John 3, verse 35, to 4, verse 12
John 3, verse 35, to 4, verse 12
“The Father loves the Son, and has given all things into his hand. He who believes in the Son has everlasting life; and he who does not believe the Son will not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him.”
In everything we see how great the gain of humility is. That is how we have brought the crafts to perfection: not by learning them all at once from our teachers. That is how we have built cities, putting them together slowly, little by little. That is how we keep our life going. And do not be surprised that this has so much power in the matters of this life, when in spiritual things too one may find how great the power of this wisdom is. This is how the Jews were able to be freed from their idolatry: they were led on gently, little by little, and at first heard nothing lofty about either doctrine or life. So too after the coming of Christ, when it was time for loftier teaching, the apostles won everyone over without saying anything lofty at first. And this is how Christ seems to have spoken to most people at the beginning, and how John did now, speaking of him as of some wonderful man, and bringing in lofty matters only dimly.
For example, when he began, he spoke like this: “A man can receive nothing of himself” (John 3, verse 27). Then, after adding a lofty expression and saying, “He who comes from heaven is above all,” he brings his speech down again to what is lowly, and besides much else he says this: “God does not give the Spirit by measure.” Then he goes on to say, “The Father loves the Son, and has given all things into his hand.” After that, knowing how great the force of punishment is, and that most people are led not so much by the promise of good things as by the threat of terrible ones, he ends his speech with these words: “He who believes in the Son has everlasting life; but he who does not believe the Son will not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him.” Here again he refers the account of punishment to the Father. He does not say “the wrath of the Son” — and yet the Son is the Judge — but sets the Father over them, wanting in this way to frighten them the more.
Someone says: “Is it enough, then, to believe in the Son, to have eternal life?” By no means. Listen to Christ himself declaring this: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 7, verse 21). And blasphemy against the Spirit is enough by itself to throw a man into hell. But why do I speak of one part of doctrine? Even if a man believes rightly in the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, if he does not lead a right life, his faith will do him no good toward his salvation. So when he says, “This is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God” (John 17, verse 3), let us not suppose that the knowledge spoken of is enough for our salvation. Besides this we need a life lived with the utmost care.
He has said here, “He who believes in the Son has eternal life,” and in the same place something stronger still — for he weaves his speech not of blessings only, but of their opposites too, saying, “He who does not believe the Son will not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him.” Yet not even from this do we claim that faith alone is enough for salvation. The instructions for living given in many places in the Gospels show this. That is why he did not say, “This by itself is eternal life,” or, “He who only believes in the Son has eternal life.” By both expressions he declared this: that believing does contain life, but that if a right way of life does not follow, a heavy punishment will.
And he did not say “awaits him,” but “remains on him” — that is, “will never leave him.” So that you would not think “will not see life” means a death that lasts for a time, but would believe that the punishment goes on without end, he used this expression to show that it rests on him continually. And he did this to drive them on to Christ by these very words. That is why he did not aim the warning at them in particular, but made it universal, the way most likely to win them over. He did not say, “If you believe” and “If you do not believe,” but made his words general, so that they would be free of suspicion. And he did this even more forcefully than Christ. For Christ says, “He who does not believe is condemned already,” but John says, “will not see life, but the wrath of God remains on him.” And with good reason. It was one thing for a man to speak of himself, and another for someone else to speak of him. They would have thought that Christ spoke of these things often out of self-love, and that he was a boaster; but John was clear of all suspicion. And if later on Christ also used stronger expressions, it was when they had begun to form a high opinion of him.
Why Jesus Left Judea
John 4, verses 1 to 3: “When therefore Jesus knew that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing more disciples than John (though Jesus himself did not baptize, but his disciples), he left Judea and went away again into Galilee.”
He did not in fact baptize; but those who carried the news reported it that way, wanting to stir their hearers to envy. “Why, then, did he ‘go away’?” Not out of fear, but to take away their malice and to soften their envy. He was able to stop them when they came against him, but he would not do this all the time, so that the plan of salvation carried out in the flesh would not be disbelieved. If he had often been seized and escaped, many would have been suspicious of it. So for the most part he arranges things in a human way. Just as he wanted it to be believed that he was God, so he wanted it believed that, being God, he bore flesh. That is why even after the resurrection he said to the disciple, “Handle me and see, for a spirit does not have flesh and bones” (Luke 24, verse 39). That is also why he rebuked Peter when he said, “Far be it from you; this will not happen to you” (Matthew 16, verse 22). That is how much this mattered to him.
For this is no small part of the teachings of the church. It is the chief point of the salvation worked out for us. Through it everything has been brought about and has succeeded: in this way the bonds of death were broken, sin taken away, the curse abolished, and ten thousand blessings brought into our life. That is why he especially wanted the plan of salvation to be believed, since it has been the root and fountain of countless good things for us.
Yet while he acted this way with regard to his humanity, he did not let his divinity be overshadowed. So after going away he again used the same kind of language as before. For he did not simply go away into Galilee; he went to accomplish certain important things, those among the Samaritans. Nor did he arrange these matters in just any way, but with the wisdom that belonged to him, and so as not to leave the Jews even the pretense of a shameless excuse for themselves. The evangelist points to this when he says:
Verse 4: “And he had to go through Samaria.”
He is showing that Jesus made this a side matter of the journey. The apostles did the same. Just as they, when the Jews persecuted them, went to the Gentiles, so too Christ, when the Jews drove him out, then took the Samaritans in hand — as he did also in the case of the Syrophoenician woman. This was done to cut away every defense from the Jews, so that they could not say: “He left us and went to the uncircumcised.” That is why the disciples, excusing themselves, said, “It was necessary that the word of God should be spoken to you first; but since you judge yourselves unworthy of everlasting life, look, we turn to the Gentiles” (Acts 13, verse 46). And he himself says again, “I have come only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matthew 15, verse 24); and again, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and give it to the dogs.” But when they drove him away, they opened a door to the Gentiles. Even so, he did not come to the Gentiles on purpose, but in passing. In passing, then:
Verses 5 and 6: “He comes to a city of Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob gave to his son Joseph. Now Jacob’s well was there.”
Why is the evangelist so exact about the place? So that when you hear the woman say, “Jacob our father gave us this well,” you would not think it strange. For this was the place where Levi and Simeon, angry because of Dinah, carried out that cruel slaughter.
Where the Samaritans Came From
And it may be worth telling from what sources the Samaritans were made up, since this whole country is called Samaria. Where, then, did they get their name? The mountain was called “Somor” after its owner (First Kings 16, verse 24), as Isaiah also says: “And the head of Ephraim is Somoron” (Isaiah 7, verse 9, in the Greek Old Testament). But the people who lived there were called not “Samaritans” but “Israelites.”
As time went on, they offended God. In the reign of Pekah, Tiglath-Pileser came up and took many cities, attacked Elah, killed him, and gave the kingdom to Hoshea (Second Kings 15, verse 29). Against Hoshea came Shalmaneser, who took other cities and made them subject to him and paying tribute (Second Kings 17, verse 3). At first Hoshea gave way, but afterward he revolted from Assyrian rule and turned to an alliance with the Ethiopians. The Assyrian learned of this, made war on them and destroyed their cities, and no longer let the nation stay there, because he suspected they would revolt (Second Kings 17, verse 4). Instead he carried them off to Babylon and to the Medes, and brought nations from various places from there and settled them in Samaria, so that his rule would be secure in the future, with his own people holding the place.
After this, God, wanting to show that he had not handed over the Jews through weakness but because of the sins of those who were handed over, sent lions against the foreigners, and they ravaged their whole nation. This was reported to the king, and he sent a priest to deliver the laws of God to them. Still, not even then did they give up their ungodliness entirely, but only halfway. But as time went on, they in turn abandoned their idols and worshiped God. When things stood this way, the Jews came back, and from then on they were jealous of them as foreigners and enemies, and called them “Samaritans” after the name of the mountain. From this cause too there was no small rivalry between them.
The Samaritans did not use all the Scriptures. They accepted only the writings of Moses and made little account of those of the prophets. Yet they were eager to push their way into the noble Jewish line. They prided themselves on Abraham and called him their forefather, since he was from Chaldea; and they called Jacob their father too, as his descendants. But the Jews loathed them, as they did all other nations. That is why they threw this at Christ as a reproach: “You are a Samaritan, and have a demon” (John 8, verse 48). And that is why, in the parable of the man who went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, Christ makes the man who showed him pity “a Samaritan” (Luke 10, verse 33) — one they counted low, contemptible and loathsome. And in the case of the ten lepers he calls one a “foreigner” for this reason, for “he was a Samaritan.” And he gave his command to the disciples in these words: “Do not go into the way of the Gentiles, and do not enter any city of the Samaritans” (Matthew 10, verse 5).
Nor was it only to describe the place that the evangelist has reminded us of Jacob. It was to show that the rejection of the Jews had happened long before. In the time of their forefathers these Jews held the land, not the Samaritans. And the very possessions their forefathers had gained when they were not theirs, the Jews lost through their sloth and their transgressions, though they were theirs. So little does it help to have excellent ancestors if the descendants are not like them. What is more, the foreigners, after only a taste of the lions, turned at once to the right worship of the Jews, while the Jews, after suffering such blows, were not brought to their senses even then.
Weary at the Well
To this place Christ now came, always rejecting a sedentary and soft life and showing one of hard work and action. He uses no animal to carry him, but walks so far at a stretch that he is even tired out by his journey. And this is what he always teaches: that a man should work for himself, do without luxuries, and not have many wants. Indeed, he is so eager for us to be estranged from luxuries that he cuts back even many necessities. That is why he said, “Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head” (Matthew 8, verse 20). That is why he spent most of his time on the mountains and in the deserts, not by day only but by night as well. David declared this when he said, “He will drink from the brook on the way” (Psalm 110, verse 7), showing by this his frugal way of life. The evangelist shows it too in this place.
Verses 6 to 8: “Jesus therefore, tired out by his journey, sat thus by the well; and it was about the sixth hour. A woman of Samaria comes to draw water. Jesus says to her, ‘Give me a drink.’ For his disciples had gone away into the city to buy food.”
From this we learn how hard he worked on his journeys and how little he cared about food, treating it as a minor matter. And so the disciples were taught to have the same attitude themselves, for they took no provisions with them for the road. Another evangelist declares this when he says that when Jesus spoke to them about “the yeast of the Pharisees” (Matthew 16, verse 6), they thought it was because they had brought no bread. And when he shows them plucking ears of grain and eating (Matthew 12, verse 1), and when he says that Jesus came to the fig tree because he was hungry (Matthew 21, verse 18), it is for no other reason than to teach us by all these things to despise the belly, and not to think that serving it deserves anxious attention.
Look at them in this place, for example. They bring nothing with them, and though they have brought nothing, they do not worry about it at the very beginning and early part of the day; they buy food at the time when everyone else was taking a meal. They are not like us. The moment we get out of bed we see to this before anything else, calling cooks and stewards and giving our orders with great earnestness, and only afterward do we turn to other matters, putting the things of this passing life before spiritual things, and treating as necessary what we ought to have thought less important. That is why everything is in confusion. We ought, on the contrary, to make much of all spiritual things, and only after finishing them to turn to the others.
And in this place it is not only his hard work that is shown, but also his freedom from pride — not merely by his being tired, or by his sitting by the roadside, but by his being left alone, with his disciples gone off from him. Yet it was in his power, had he wished, either not to send them all away, or to have other attendants when they left. But he would not; for in this way he trained his disciples to trample all pride underfoot.
Someone says: “And what is so remarkable if they were content with little, since they were fishermen and tentmakers?” Yes, fishermen and tentmakers they were. But in a moment they had climbed to the very height of heaven and become more honored than all the kings of the earth, since they had been counted worthy to be the companions of the Lord of the world and to follow the one on whom all looked with awe. And you know this too: men of humble origin especially, whenever they gain distinction, are the more easily puffed up to folly, because they have no idea how to bear their sudden honor. So he held them in the humility they had then, and taught them always to think modestly of themselves and never to require anyone to wait on them.
“He therefore,” says the evangelist, “tired out by his journey, sat thus at the well.”
Do you see that he sat because he was tired? Because of the heat? Because he was waiting for his disciples? He did know what would take place among the Samaritans, but it was not mainly for this that he came. Yet though he did not come for this, it was not right to turn away the woman who came to him, when she showed such a desire to learn. The Jews drove him away even when he was coming to them; those of the Gentiles drew him to themselves when he was heading in another direction. They envied him; these believed in him. They were angry with him; these revered and worshiped him. What then? Was he to overlook the salvation of so many and send away such noble eagerness? That would have been unworthy of his love for humankind. So he arranged the whole matter in hand with the wisdom that befitted him. He sat resting his body and cooling it by the spring, for it was the very middle of the day, as the evangelist has declared when he says, “It was about the sixth hour.”
He sat “thus.” What does “thus” mean? Not on a throne, not on a cushion, but simply, just as he was, on the ground.
Verse 7: “A woman of Samaria comes to draw water.”
The Woman at the Well
Notice how he declares that the woman came out for another purpose. In every way he silences the shameless contradiction of the Jews, so that no one could say that Jesus acted against his own command — telling his disciples not to enter any city of the Samaritans, and yet talking with Samaritans himself (Matthew 10, verse 5). That is why the evangelist has put:
Verse 8: “For his disciples had gone away into the city to buy food.”
He brings in many reasons for Jesus’ talking with her. What does the woman do? When she heard “Give me a drink,” she very wisely made Christ’s words an occasion for a question, and said:
Verse 9: “How is it that you, being a Jew, ask a drink of me, who am a Samaritan? For the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans.”
And how did she suppose he was a Jew? From his dress, perhaps, and from his way of speaking. Notice, please, how thoughtful the woman was. If caution was needed, it was Jesus who needed it, not she. For she does not say, “The Samaritans have no dealings with the Jews,” but, “The Jews do not admit the Samaritans.” Yet even so, though she herself was free of blame, when she supposed that someone else was falling into it she would not keep silent even then, but corrected what she thought was being done unlawfully.
Perhaps someone may ask how Jesus could ask her for a drink when the law did not allow it. If the answer is that he knew beforehand she would not give it, then for that very reason he ought not to have asked. What, then, can we say? That setting aside observances like these was now a matter of indifference to him. For he who led others to do away with them would much more pass them by himself. “Not what goes in,” he says, “defiles a man, but what comes out” (Matthew 15, verse 11).
And this conversation with the woman would be no small charge against the Jews. For he often drew them to himself, by words and by deeds, but they would not pay attention; while she, notice, is held by a simple request. For he did not yet set about this work, nor go that way; yet if anyone came to him, he did not stop them. And to the disciples, too, he said this: “Do not enter any city of the Samaritans.” He did not say, “And when they come to you, turn them away”; that would have been quite unworthy of his love for humankind. So he answered the woman and said:
Verse 10: “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”
First he shows that she is worthy to hear and not to be passed over, and then he reveals himself. For as soon as she had learned who he was, she would at once listen and pay attention to him — which no one can say of the Jews. When they had learned, they asked nothing of him, and did not want to be taught anything useful, but insulted him and drove him away. But when the woman had heard these words, notice how gently she answers:
Verse 11: “Sir, you have nothing to draw with, and the well is deep. Where, then, do you get that living water?”
Already he has raised her from her low opinion of him, from thinking that he is an ordinary man. It is not without reason that she calls him “Lord” here; she is giving him high honor. That she said these words to honor him is plain from what is said afterward, since she did not laugh or mock, but was in doubt for a while. And do not be surprised if she did not grasp everything at once; neither did Nicodemus. What does he say? “How can these things be?” And again, “How can a man be born when he is old?” And again, “Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” But this woman speaks more reverently: “Sir, you have nothing to draw with, and the well is deep. Where, then, do you get that living water?”
Christ said one thing, and she imagined another. She heard nothing beyond the words, and was not yet able to form any lofty thought. Yet if she had spoken hastily, she might have said: “If you had that living water, you would not have asked me; you would rather have provided for yourself. You are nothing but a boaster.” But she said nothing like that. She answers with great gentleness, both at first and afterward. At first she says, “How is it that you, being a Jew, ask a drink of me?” She does not say, as though speaking to a foreigner and an enemy: “Far be it from me to give anything to you, an enemy and a stranger to our nation.” And afterward again, when she heard him speak great words — the very thing that most annoys enemies — she did not mock or jeer. What does she say?
Verse 12: “Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well, and drank from it himself, and his children, and his cattle?”
Notice how she pushes her way into the noble line of the Jews. What she says amounts to something like this: “Jacob used this water, and had nothing better to give us.” And she said this to show that from Christ’s first answer she had formed a great and lofty thought. For by the words “he drank from it himself, and his children, and his cattle,” she implies nothing else than that she had some notion of a better water, but had never found it or clearly known it. To explain more plainly what she means, the sense of her words is this: “You cannot claim that Jacob gave us this well and used another one himself. He and his children drank from this one, and they would not have done so if they had had another and a better one. Now you cannot give me the water of this well, and you cannot have another and a better water unless you admit that you are greater than Jacob. Where, then, do you get the water you promise to give us?”
The Jews did not talk with him this mildly. Yet he spoke to them on the same subject, mentioning the same kind of water, and they gained nothing from it; and when he mentioned Abraham, they even tried to stone him. This woman does not approach him like that. With great gentleness, in the midst of the heat, at noon, she says and hears everything with great patience. She does not so much as think of what the Jews would most likely have said: “This fellow is mad and out of his mind. He has kept me tied to this spring and well, giving me nothing, only using big words.” No, she bears it and perseveres until she has found what she is looking for.
If a Samaritan woman is so eager to learn something useful, if she stays by Christ while not yet knowing him, what pardon will we receive? We know him. We are not by a well, nor in a desert place, nor at midday, nor under the scorching rays of the sun, but in the morning, under a roof like this one, enjoying shade and comfort — and yet we cannot bear to hear anything that is said, but grow tired of it. That woman was not like this. She was so taken up with Jesus’ words that she even called others to hear them. The Jews, on the contrary, not only did not call anyone, but even hindered and blocked those who wanted to come to him, saying, “Look, have any of the rulers believed in him? But this crowd, which does not know the law, is accursed.”
So let us imitate this Samaritan woman; let us talk with Christ. For even now he stands among us, speaking to us through the prophets and the disciples. Let us hear and obey. How long will we live uselessly and in vain? Not to do what pleases God is to live uselessly — or rather, not merely uselessly, but to our own harm. For when we have spent the time given us on no good purpose, we will leave this life to suffer the severest punishment for our untimely extravagance. It cannot be that a man who has received money to trade with and then eaten it up is called to account for it by the one who entrusted it to him, while someone who has spent a life like ours for nothing escapes punishment.
It was not for this that God brought us into this present life and breathed a soul into us: that we should make use of the present time only. It was so that we should do all our business with an eye to the life to come. Creatures without reason are useful only for the present life; but we have an immortal soul so that we may use every means to prepare ourselves for that other life. If anyone asks what horses and donkeys and oxen and other such animals are for, we will tell him: for nothing else but to serve the present life. But this cannot be said of us. Our best state is the one that follows our departure from here, and we must do everything so that we may shine there, join the choir of angels, and stand before the King continually, through endless ages. That is why the soul is immortal, and the body too will be immortal: so that we may enjoy the never-ending blessings.
But if, when heavenly things are held out to you, you stay nailed to the earth, consider what an insult you offer your Benefactor. He holds out to you the things above, and you, thinking little of them, choose earth instead. And so, as one you have despised, he has threatened you with hell, so that from this you may learn how great are the blessings you are depriving yourself of. God grant that none of us may ever experience that punishment, but that, having pleased Christ, we may obtain the everlasting blessings, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, be glory, now and always, and forever and ever. Amen.