SERMON 8March2026  “Is the Lord Among Us or not?”

We know the names of the disciples. Peter, Andrew, John, James. But the woman we meet today has no name. All we know about her is that she is a Samaritan, and that she is a woman. That is all the Gospel tells us.

And yet this unnamed woman becomes the first person in the Gospel of John to say, “Come and see.” Not one of the twelve disciples has done this yet. A woman with no name, a woman with a past she would rather hide, becomes the first to live the life of a disciple.

In fact, she did not come looking for Jesus. She simply came to draw water. At the heat of midday, when no one else would be there, she came to the well to collect the water she needed for the day. But that is where everything changed. Her day, and her life. There are times in life when we are not looking for anything in particular. We are simply going about our day. Maybe even today. And yet it is often in those very moments that God begins to work.

The people of Israel were not looking for anything either. They had just come through the Red Sea, leaving Pharaoh’s army behind. They had seen with their own eyes the signs that God was with them. But now, there is no water. And everything begins to shake. “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?” Complaints pour out, and the anger turns toward Moses. But underneath all of that, there is a deeper question. It surfaces right at the end of the passage.

“Is the Lord among us or not?” That is the real question Israel asks in the wilderness. Yes, they are thirsty. But deeper than that, they are asking, “God, are you here? Do you see us? Are you still with us, even here in the wilderness?”

We know this question too. When the ground shifts beneath us, when our prayers seem to hit the ceiling, the question rises again: “God, are you here?” It may be the most honest question we can ask. And God does not get angry. God told Moses to strike the rock. And water flows.

That water resolved the thirst of that day. But the next day, the people would be thirsty again. The water that came from the rock was a powerful miracle, but it was still water they would need again. The wilderness continued. And so did the thirst. God knew that this would not be enough. A day was coming when God would answer that thirst once and for all. And that day begins at Jacob’s well.

It is hot and still. The disciples have gone into the town to buy food, and Jesus is sitting alone by the well. Tired from the journey, the text tells us. And then a woman comes to draw water. Women usually came to the well early in the morning or in the cool evening. Midday was when no one came. Yet this woman chose that hour, hoping to draw water quietly and go home. But someone is already there.

And he speaks first. “Give me a drink.” Do you see how radical this is? A Jewish man speaking to a Samaritan woman. Ethnic boundaries. Gender boundaries. Religious boundaries. In a single sentence, Jesus crosses them all. And he does so not with authority, but with a request.

In the wilderness, Israel cried out to God. “Give us water! Are you here at all?” But here at Jacob’s well, the direction is reversed. Here, it is God who speaks first. God comes first. The God who says, “I am thirsty.” If the question of wilderness was, “Is the Lord among us?”, then here at the well, God himself sits among them and says, “I am here.”

The conversation deepens. Jesus reveals the woman’s past. Five husbands. And the man she is with now. The things she would rather have hidden. The very things that explain why she came to the well at noon.  But there is no condemnation in Jesus’ voice. He simply knows her story. And still, he offers her living water. This woman meets Jesus in a place where nothing about her life is hidden. And strangely, that is where freedom begins. The moment when nothing is left to hide.

“Sir, give me this water, so that I will never be thirsty again, and will not have to keep coming here to draw water.” At first, perhaps it was just a practical request. But this simple asking becomes the door through which her whole life begins to change. And then Jesus makes a promise. “Those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”

Think about the water that came from the rock. It was water that came from outside. The people drank, and they lived. But the next day, they would be thirsty again. It was water that had to be filled again.

The water Jesus offers is different. It does not simply fill us from the outside. It becomes a spring within us. It is not just a small trickle of water. The word suggests water bursting up with force, a spring rising so abundantly that it cannot be contained.

And a spring like that flows outward. Into our homes. Into our neighbourhoods. Even toward the people we would rather avoid. This is not a faith that stops at the church door. It is a faith that keeps rising and flowing into the world around us. It is a beautiful promise. But it is also a challenging invitation.

Look at the woman. What happens after she receives this living water?  She leaves her water jar behind and runs back to the town. The woman who came alone at noon now calls out to the whole town. “Come and see! Here is a man who told me everything I have ever done. Could this be the Messiah?” The thing she kept secret becomes the very invitation she offers to others.

Like Peter and Andrew who left their nets to follow Jesus, this woman leaves her water jar behind. No name. No title of disciple, yet she becomes the first person in John’s Gospel to live the life of a disciple. And what happens next? The people of the town come out. They come to Jesus. He stays with them for two days. And they say, ” We know that this is truly the Saviour of the world.” What began with one woman leaving a water jar behind becomes the confession of an entire town.

Exodus gives that place a name: Massah and Meribah; the place where Israel asked, “Is the Lord among us or not?” Water came from the rock, yet the place was remembered as a place of testing and quarrelling.

But Jacob’s well at Sychar is remembered differently. There Jesus stayed for two days. One woman’s life was changed, and an entire town came to confess: “This is truly the Saviour of the world.” And it all began with a woman who left her water jar behind.

Two thirsty places. Two moments when God is present. But something is different. In the wilderness the people demanded proof: “Show us that you are here.” At the well, the woman begins with questions too. “How can you, a Jew, ask me for a drink?” But her questions lead somewhere different, not to argument but to invitation.

“Is the Lord among us?”, it is not a bad question. It is the question all of us carry at some point. But what matters is what we do with it. Whether we use it to test God, or whether we bring it to God with an open hand.

Where are you today? Perhaps there are some of you who feel like you are in the wilderness right now. A question you have been carrying for a long time. God was present in the wilderness. God was present at the well. The question is not whether God is here. The question is how we meet him.

Living water is still flowing. It begins when we are honest about our own thirst. And when we begin to notice the thirst of others. Often it begins with just one person. One person who is willing to say, “Come and see.” Perhaps today, that person is you.