Jesus prophesies to the Samaritan.

by K.W. Leslie, 11 April 2024

John 4.13-19.

Back to Jesus talking with the Samaritan at the well. He tells her about the water of life, and since they’re at a literal well, it’s fair to say she might not wholly understand he’s speaking in metaphor, as he tends to do. Because her focus isn’t a future kingdom of God; it’s on the here and now, and right now she’s at the well fetching water.

John 4.13-15 KWL
13 In reply Jesus tells her, “All who drink of this water
will thirst again.
14 Whoever might drink of the water I give them,
will never thirst in the age to come,
but the water I’ll give them
will become a spring of water within them,
gushing with eternal life.”
15 The woman tells Jesus, “Sir, give me this water!—
so I might not thirst,
nor travel to this place to get water.”

A number of interpreters take this statement the Samaritan made—“Give me this water”—at face value. I don’t. You’ll see why in a moment. But at this point, she’s treating Jesus as if he’s some weirdo… because to her mind, he is some weirdo. Judeans never talk to Samaritans. Yet here’s some rogue Judean who’s talking to her about installing a spring inside her. “Uh-huh. Sure. Yeah, you have water. If you do, I’d like some; fetching water is a pain.”

Ironic answers aren’t actually honest answers, and Jesus realized she didn’t really believe him, and that’s why he decided to “read her mail,” as prophets call it nowadays.

John 4.16-19 KWL
16 {Jesus} tells her, “Go;
call for your man,
and come back to this place.”
17 In reply the Samaritan tells him, “I have no man.”
Jesus tells her, “Well said, ‘I have no man’;
18 you had five men,
and the one you now have isn’t your man.
You said this truthfully.”
19 The woman tells Jesus, “Sir, I see you’re a prophet.”

And now he has her attention. “I see you’re a prophet”? Well duh Jesus is a prophet.

Christian evangelists should be taking notes about now. Too often we try to share Jesus with skeptical people, who think all our claims about who Jesus is and what he does are ridiculous, and aren’t receptive to it whatsoever. Rocky soil. And too often, these evangelists will try platitude after platitude, proof text after proof text, and the person will shrug it all off like Superman does with bullets.

But tell them something we can’t possibly know about them, and suddenly they go, “Wait—who told you that?” The Holy Spirit. He’s real; he’s been getting you ready for this conversation your entire life; you finally wanna hear what he has to say?

So when you’re sharing Jesus, pay attention to the Spirit! He’ll tell you whether this person is receptive or not—and if he tells you something completely random, like “She’s had five men,” don’t just dismiss it as too weird to share: Tell her that, and watch the reaction. (Although, a word of advice? Don’t bring up her relationship history when other people are around. Be discreet like Jesus.)

Anyway that’s why I figure her previous statement, “Give me this water,” was ironic: It wasn’t a truthful response. “I have no man”—now that’s a truthful response.

And from here on out, you’ll notice the Samaritan takes Jesus seriously.

Everybody has history.

Preachers like to claim everybody in the Samaritan town of Sychár already knew the woman’s history, and therefore she was an outcast, and had to get her water from a well way outside of town. And maybe that’s so… and maybe it’s not. Maybe nobody knew her story. Maybe she kept far, far away from everybody lest anyone find out her story. You don’t know. Neither do I.

What little we do know, comes from Jesus: The woman previously had five ἄνδρας/ándras, “men.” Most bibles translate it “husbands,” because the middle eastern custom was to assume “her man” means the very same thing as “her husband.” (Ancient Hebrews used to use the word בַּעַל/baal, “mister,” for husbands, but God eventually told ’em to stop it, Ho 2.16-17 because they kept calling pagan gods by that title.) There is an ancient Greek word for husband, γᾰμέτης/yamétis, but it’s not in the bible—although the related word γᾰμέτις/yamétis appears in the apocrypha. In any case, when Jesus spoke of “your man,” he did mean husband.

Because most ancient cultures, Samaritans included, figured if you lived together and had sex, you were married. Our culture doesn’t; it’s not marriage unless legal paperwork was filed. Seriously; I know of people who had a church ceremony and everything, but because they never bothered to register their relationship with the state, certain conservative Christians are gonna balk and insist no, they’re not married. Which is ridiculous; what makes ’em married, God or the state?

Marriage in the ancient middle east usually did involve legal paperwork. Mostly to protect the woman’s family in case her man divorced her. But otherwise the ancients, including the Hebrews, defined marriage by sexual activity and living arrangement. Like Genesis describes it, a man leaves his parents, bonds to his woman, and the two become “one flesh.” Ge 2.4 Remember?

And this Samaritan didn’t have this arrangement. She had some sort of relationship with a man… but he wasn’t her man. She wasn’t even a girlfriend; to the ancients’ minds, concubines belonged to their men, same as wives. She probably had a loose relationship with some guy she had regular sex with, but they didn’t live together, didn’t answer to one another; it’s all casual. Same as people do nowadays; same as people have always done. What, you think casual sex was a recent innovation?

But previously, the Samaritan had five husbands. We don’t know why those relationships ended. Judgmental preachers figure since she had a casual relationship by the time she met Jesus, she was likely an unfaithful wife before. But we don’t know that. We don’t know anything more than Jesus said. Jumping to conclusions, and preaching those conclusions as if they’re fact, is bearing false witness. I mean, maybe she had a thing for older men, and outlived them all. Or maybe she had a thing for rebels and criminals, and the Romans wound up crucifying them, one after the other. Let’s not casually leap to the conclusion she was the problem.

Let’s not even leap to the conclusion the reason she left town to get water was because Sychár knew she was a problem, and shunned her. They might not have! They certainly listened to her when she had something to say. Jn 4.28-30 Maybe she isolated herself. I’ve known lots of antisocial people (who claim they’re introverts, but I’m an introvert, and don’t act like this) who avoid other people whenever possible. They feel uncomfortable, awkward, irritated, or otherwise negative. Maybe they’re ashamed—and maybe for no good reason. Either way, that was this Samaritan, and it’s possible nobody knew her past.

Nobody except, somehow, some wandering Galilean prophet who somehow knew everything. Well, not everything, but enough for her to think he knew everything. Jn 4.29

How’d Jesus know that?

A lot of Christians just assume Jesus is omniscient—he automatically knows everything, everywhere, every time, same as his Father does, because he’s God. God knows all, therefore Jesus knows all. Simple.

But there are big, big problems with this “simple” explanation. Y’see, if Jesus were all-knowing, it means every single time he asked a question for the sake of gaining information, it was an act. He already had that knowledge. He was only pretending to not have infinite knowledge so he could keep up the appearance of being an ordinary human. He faked ignorance. He lied.

Yeah. Claiming Jesus hadn’t depowered himself when he became human, turns Jesus into a giant hypocrite. And considering how much Jesus despises hypocrisy, that’d also be hypocritical of him.

True, sometimes Jesus does already know the answer to a question, and is asking people in order to test ’em. He did this later in John with his student Philip. Jn 6.5-6 Fans of the idea of an omniscient Jesus, assume all his questions worked the very same way: Every question was a test. Every question was rhetorical; Jesus simply never stops teaching.

They can’t fathom the reason John had to explain, “And this he said to prove him: for he himself knew what he would do,” Jn 6.6 is because Jesus’s other non-rhetorical questions in the gospel were not tests.

Nope; the more biblical explanation is Jesus surrendered his divine power to become human. Pp 2.7 Not his divinity; his power. People regularly, wrongly, equate divinity with power, and figure if Jesus isn’t almighty, he’s not really God. But divinity isn’t about power; it’s about one’s nature. Jesus at his core is fully God; he’s everything God is. Cl 1.19 Nature, not power, makes him God.

But we humans covet power. Not God’s nature, like we should; power. And we’d never surrender power—and can’t fathom a Jesus who’d voluntarily give up all his power to save us. He’d hold onto those reins somehow, because we would. Which just goes to show how very little we understand Jesus.

In order to share our human experience, Jesus had to depower himself. He had to surrender immortality so he could die. He had to surrender immutability, ’cause life is change. He had to surrender omnipresence, ’cause humans only exist at one point in spacetime. And if he gave up these powers, it’s not hard to imagine him surrendering the big two: Almightiness, and omniscience.

So how could Jesus know the unknowable, and do the impossible? By the Holy Spirit. Ac 10.38 He had the same Spirit who makes us able to do everything Jesus did, Jn 14.12 because he empowered Jesus in the first place.

If Jesus were play-acting, his statement, “Go; call for your man” is nothing but cruel: He already knew the correct answer, already knew she’d give a truthful response. The only reason to bring it up—and some Christians do in fact teach this—was to remind her she was a sinner. (And when these teachers are also sexist and racist, they also particularly enjoy the idea of “putting her in her place.”) Basically, Jesus would be picking on her. And that is not Jesus. He’s kind. He would never have any such motive. The reason he told her to get her man, was because he was following the Spirit moment by moment.

I’m speculating, but I suspect this is something like what went on in Jesus’s head:

SPIRIT. “She’s had five husbands, and the guy she’s with isn’t hers. Tell her to bring her man here, and she’ll admit she doesn’t have one.”
JESUS. [internally] “Gotcha.” [aloud] “Go; call for your man, and come back to this place.”
SAMARITAN. “I have no man.”
SPIRIT. “Told ya.”
JESUS. [relieved] “Yeah you did.” [aloud] “Well said, ‘I have no man’…”

This is how confirmation works. Prophets know what I’m talking about.

True, other scriptures indicate Jesus also had the gift of supernatural discernment. Mk 9.28-29 Thus he shouldn’t have to test what the Spirit told him, ’cause he’d immediately know it’s the Spirit. Still, even someone who can discern spirits can have an off day. Especially when fatigued from walking six hours on a hot spring day. If Jesus was at such a weak point, he was wise enough to double-check a prophecy, just to be sure.