Homily 32 — John 4, verses 13 to 20

“Jesus answered and said to her, ‘Whoever drinks of this water will thirst again; but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never thirst; but the water that I will give him will be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.’” [a]

Scripture sometimes calls the grace of the Spirit “fire” and sometimes “water,” showing that these names describe not its essence but its working. For the Spirit, being invisible and simple, cannot be made up of different substances. John speaks of the one when he says, “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire” (Matthew 3, verse 11); Christ speaks of the other: “Out of his belly will flow rivers of living water” (John 7, verse 38). “But this,” John says, “he spoke of the Spirit, which they were to receive.”

So too, talking with the woman, he calls the Spirit water: “Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never thirst.” He calls the Spirit by the name of “fire” to point to the power grace has to rouse and to warm, and its power to destroy transgressions; and by the name of “water” to declare the cleansing it works and the great refreshment it gives to the minds that receive it. And with good reason. For it makes the willing soul like a garden thick with every kind of tree, fruitful and always in bloom. It lets the soul feel neither dejection nor the schemes of Satan, and it puts out all the flaming arrows of the evil one.

And notice, I beg you, the wisdom of Christ, how gently he leads the woman on. He did not say at the start, “If you knew who it is that says to you, ‘Give me a drink.’” First he gave her occasion to call him “a Jew” and so to bring her charge against him. Then, answering the accusation, he says, “If you knew who it is that says to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him.” And when by his great promises he had moved her to mention the patriarch, he lets the woman begin to see through to the truth. Then, when she objects, “Are you greater than our father Jacob?” he does not say, “Yes, I am greater” — he would have seemed merely to be boasting, since the proof had not yet appeared — but he brings this about by what he says.

For he did not simply say, “I will give you water.” First he set aside the water Jacob gave, and then he raised up the water he gives himself. He wanted to show, from the nature of the things given, how great the distance and the difference is between the persons of the givers, and how far he surpasses the patriarch.

“If you admire Jacob because he gave you this water,” he says, “what will you say if I give you water far better than this? You yourself were the first to admit that I am greater than Jacob, by arguing against me and asking, ‘Are you greater than Jacob, that you promise to give me better water?’ If you receive that water, you will certainly admit that I am greater.”

Do you see the woman’s fair judgment? She reaches her decision from the facts, both about the patriarch and about Christ. The Jews did not act this way. Even when they saw him driving out demons, they not only did not call him greater than the patriarch, they even said that he had a demon. Not so the woman. She draws her opinion from where Christ wanted her to draw it, from the proof his works supply. For it is by these that he shows himself in the right, when he says, “If I do not do the works of my Father, do not believe me; but if I do them, even if you do not believe me, believe the works” (John 10, verses 37 and 38). And so the woman is brought over to faith.

That is why, when he had heard, “Are you greater than our father Jacob?” he leaves Jacob aside and speaks about the water, saying, “Whoever drinks of this water will thirst again.” And he makes his comparison not by running the one down but by showing the excellence of the other. He does not say that “this water is worthless,” or that “it is inferior and contemptible”; he says what even nature bears witness to: “Whoever drinks of this water will thirst again; but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never thirst.”

Before this the woman had heard of “living water” (verse 10), but she had not understood what it meant. Since water is called “living” when it flows all year round and bubbles up without stopping from springs that never fail, she thought that this was the water he meant. So he points it out more clearly by speaking this way, and by a comparison he establishes how much better the water he will give is. What, then, does he say? “Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never thirst.” This, and what was said next, showed its superiority most of all, for ordinary water has none of these qualities. And what is it that follows? “It will be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.” For just as someone who had a well within him could never be seized by thirst, so neither can the one who has this water.

The woman believed at once, showing herself much wiser than Nicodemus — and not only wiser, but braver. He heard countless things of this kind, yet he neither invited anyone else to hear them nor spoke out openly himself. But she did the work of an apostle: she preached the good news to everyone, called them to Jesus, and drew a whole city out to him. When Nicodemus had heard, he said, “How can these things be?” And when Christ set a clear illustration before him, that of “the wind,” even then he did not accept the word. Not so the woman. At first she doubted; but afterward, receiving the word not through any formal proof but as a plain statement, she hurried at once to embrace it. For when Christ said, “It will be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life,” the woman immediately says (verse 15), “Give me this water, so that I may not thirst or come here to draw.”

Do you see how little by little she is led up to the highest teachings? First she thought he was some Jew who was breaking the law. Then he answered that accusation — for the one who was to teach her such things must not be under suspicion — and when she heard of “living water,” she supposed he was speaking of ordinary water. After that, having learned that the words were spiritual, she believed that the water could take away the need that thirst brings, but she did not yet know what it could be. She was still in doubt: she thought it was above material things, but she did not know exactly.

But here she has gained a clearer insight, though she does not yet see the whole — for she says, “Give me this water, so that I may not thirst or come here to draw” — and for the moment she prefers him to Jacob. “For,” she says, “I do not need this well if I receive that water from you.” Do you see how she puts him ahead of the patriarch? This is what a soul that judges fairly does. She had shown how highly she thought of Jacob; she saw one better than he, and she was not held back by the opinion she had formed before. So this woman was not easily swayed — she did not carelessly accept what was said; how could she have, when she questioned him so carefully? — nor was she disobedient or quarrelsome, and she showed this by her request.

Yet to the Jews he once said, “Whoever eats of my flesh will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst” (John 6, verse 35); and they not only did not believe, they even took offense at him. The woman felt nothing of the kind; she stays and makes her request. To the Jews he said, “Whoever believes in me will never thirst.” Not so to the woman, but in more physical terms: “Whoever drinks of this water will never thirst.” For the promise concerned spiritual and unseen things. So, having raised her mind by his promises, he still stays with words drawn from the senses, because she could not yet grasp an exact statement of spiritual things. If he had said, “If you believe in me you will not thirst,” she would not have understood his saying, since she did not know who it could be that was speaking to her, or what kind of thirst he meant.

Why, then, did he not do the same with the Jews? Because they had seen many signs, while she had seen no sign but was hearing these words for the first time. That is why he next reveals his power by prophecy. And he does not bring in his rebuke directly; but what does he say?

Verses 16 to 19: “‘Go, call your husband, and come here.’ The woman answered and said, ‘I have no husband.’ Jesus said to her, ‘You have said well, “I have no husband”; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. In that you spoke truly.’ The woman said to him, ‘Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet.’”

Oh, how great the woman’s wisdom! How gently she takes the rebuke! “How could she not?” someone says. [f]

Tell me, why should she? Did he not often rebuke the Jews too, and with heavier rebukes than these? (For it is not the same thing to bring out the hidden thoughts of the heart as to expose something done in secret. The first are known to God alone, and no one else knows them except the one who has them in his heart; the second are known to everyone who had a share in them.) Yet when they were rebuked, they did not bear it patiently. When he said, “Why do you seek to kill me?” (John 7, verse 19), they not only did not marvel as the woman did, they even mocked and insulted him — and yet they had the proof of other miracles, while she had only heard this one saying. Still, they not only did not marvel, they even insulted him, saying, “You have a demon! Who is seeking to kill you?” She, on the other hand, not only does not insult him but marvels, is astonished at him, and supposes him to be a prophet.

And yet this rebuke touched the woman more closely than the other touched them. Her fault was hers alone, while theirs was shared by many; and we are not stung so much by what is general as by what is particular. Besides, they thought they would be achieving something great if they could kill Christ, whereas everyone agreed that what the woman had done was wicked. Yet she was not indignant; she was astonished and full of wonder.

Christ did this very same thing in the case of Nathanael. He did not bring in the prophecy at first, or say, “I saw you under the fig tree”; but when Nathanael said, “How do you know me?” then he brought it in. For he wanted to take the beginnings of his signs and prophecies from the very people who came to him, so that they might be more firmly attached to him by what was done, and so that he might escape the suspicion of empty glory. He does the same here too. To charge her straight off with “You have no husband” would have seemed heavy-handed and uncalled for; but to take the occasion from her own words, and then to set all these points right, was entirely fitting, and it softened the hearer’s mood.

“And what connection,” someone says, “is there in the saying, ‘Go, call your husband’?”

The conversation was about a gift and a grace beyond mortal nature, and the woman was pressing to receive it. Christ says, “Call your husband,” showing that he too must share in these things. But she was eager to receive the gift, and she was hiding the shamefulness of her situation, and she supposed she was talking with a man; so she said, “I have no husband.” When Christ heard this, he now brings in his rebuke at the right moment, stating both points exactly: he listed all her former husbands, and he rebuked her about the one she was now trying to hide.

What, then, did the woman do? She was not annoyed; she did not leave him and run away, or take it as an insult. Instead she marveled at him and stayed on all the more. “I perceive,” she says, “that you are a prophet.” Notice her good sense. She did not rush to him at once, but she still weighs him up and marvels at him. For “I perceive” means “You seem to me to be a prophet.” Then, once she suspected this, she asks him nothing about this life — not about bodily health, or property, or wealth — but at once about doctrine. For what does she say?

Verse 20: “Our fathers worshiped on this mountain” — meaning Abraham and his family, for they say that he led his son up there — “and how do you say that in Jerusalem is the place where people ought to worship?”

Do you see how much higher her mind has risen? She who was anxious not to be troubled by thirst now asks about doctrine. What, then, does Christ do? He does not settle the question — it was not his concern simply to answer people’s words, since that was needless — but he leads the woman on to the greater height. And he does not talk with her about these matters until she has confessed that he was a prophet, so that afterward she might hear his word with full belief; for once she had been persuaded of this, she could no longer doubt what would be said to her. [h]

After this, let us be ashamed and blush. A woman who had had five husbands, and who was from Samaria, was so eager about doctrine that neither the time of day, nor the fact that she had come for another purpose, nor anything else drew her away from asking about such matters. But we not only do not ask about doctrine; we are careless and indifferent toward all of it. That is why everything is neglected.

For which of you, at home, takes a Christian book in hand, goes through what it says, and searches the Scriptures? No one can say he does. With most people we will find board games and dice, but books nowhere, except among a few. And even these few are of the same mind as the many. They tie up their books and keep them always put away in chests, and all their care is for the fineness of the parchment and the beauty of the lettering, not for reading them. They did not buy them to gain any profit or benefit from them; they take pains over such things to show off their wealth and their pride. That is how far empty glory goes. I do not hear anyone boast that he knows what is in his book, but that he owns a book written in letters of gold.

And what gain is this, tell me? The Scriptures were not given to us just so that we might have them in books, but so that we might engrave them on our hearts. This kind of possession — keeping the commandments merely in writing — belongs to the Jews’ love of show. But to us the law was not given that way at all; it was given on the fleshly tablets of our hearts. I do not say this to stop you from getting Bibles. On the contrary, I urge you and earnestly beg you to do it. But I want you to carry the letters and the sense of those books into your understanding, so that it may be purified as it takes in the meaning of what is written.

For if the devil will not dare to come near a house where a book of the Gospels is lying, much less will any evil spirit, or anything of the nature of sin, ever touch or enter a soul that carries around with it such thoughts as that book contains. So make your soul holy, and make your body holy, by having these things always in your heart and on your tongue. For if filthy talk defiles and invites demons, it is clear that spiritual reading makes holy and draws down the grace of the Spirit. The Scriptures are divine charms; so let us apply the remedies they supply to ourselves and to the passions of our souls. For if we understand what is being read, we will listen to it with great readiness. I am always saying this, and I will not stop saying it.

Is it not strange that people who sit around the marketplace can tell you the names, the families, and the cities of charioteers and dancers, and the particular strength of each, and can give an exact account of the good and bad points even of the horses — while those who come here know nothing of what is done here, and are ignorant even of how many sacred books there are?

If you chase after those worldly things for pleasure, I will show you that there is greater pleasure here. Tell me, which is sweeter, which more marvelous: to see a man wrestling with a man, or a man trading blows with a demon — a body closing with a bodiless power, and one of your own race winning? These are the bouts we should watch: these, which it is fitting and profitable to imitate, and by imitating which we may be crowned — not those in which imitation brings shame on the one who imitates. If you watch the one kind of contest, you watch it in company with demons; if the other, in company with angels and archangels and the Lord of archangels.

Now tell me: if you were allowed to sit with governors and kings, to watch the spectacle and enjoy it, would you not think it a very great honor? And here, when you are a spectator in company with the King of angels, when you see the devil gripped around the middle of the back, straining hard to get the upper hand but powerless, do you not run and chase after such a sight as this? “And how can this be?” someone says.

If you keep the Bible in your hands. For in it you will see the contest, and the long races, and his holds, and the skill of the righteous man. By watching these things you will also learn to wrestle that way yourself, and you will come away clear of the demons. The shows of the pagans are gatherings of demons, not theaters of men.

So I urge you to keep away from these satanic gatherings. For if it is not lawful to go into an idol’s temple, much less into Satan’s festival. I will not stop saying these things and wearying you until I see some change. For to say these things, as Paul says, “to me indeed is not tiresome, but for you it is safe” (Philippians 3, verse 1). So do not be annoyed at my urging. If anyone ought to be annoyed, it is I, who speak often and am not heard — not you, who are always hearing and always disobeying.

God grant that you may not always be open to this charge, but that, set free from this shame, you may be counted worthy to enjoy the spiritual spectacle and the glory to come, through the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom be glory to the Father and the Holy Spirit forever and ever. Amen.