Thirsty

Thirsty

John 4:1-42

Greek mythology tells the story of Tantalus, a man condemned to stand in a pool of water beneath branches heavy with fruit. When he bent down to drink, the water receded. When he reached up to eat, the branches lifted just beyond his grasp. He was not punished with scarcity but with nearness to abundance. Relief was always close, always visible, and always out of reach.

That image feels uncomfortably familiar, it is a common theme in literature. Dante captures the same truth in the Inferno. As he journeys through hell, he describes souls surrounded by what they desire, yet forever unable to enjoy it. Their punishment is not the absence of good things, but the eternal frustration of disordered desire. Whatever they reach for cannot satisfy because their hearts are longing for the wrong thing.

 You might picture a man lost at sea, surrounded by water as far as the eye can see. He is desperate, lips cracked, throat burning. The temptation is overwhelming to scoop up what is right in front of him and drink. But salt water only deepens dehydration. The more he drinks, the worse his thirst becomes. What looks like relief becomes the very thing that kills him. That is how sin works. It promises relief but accelerates death. The world offers water everywhere, but none of it satisfies the soul.

The theme is so common because it too often tells our story. Many of us live surrounded by abundance. We have options, resources, comforts, and opportunities that generations before us never imagined. And yet, beneath all of it, there is a persistent thirst that does not go away. We keep returning to the same wells, hoping this time they will satisfy, only to find ourselves empty again.

John 4 shows us that the problem is not the lack of wells. The problem is that none of them can give life. What we need is not more water from the same source, but living water from the Savior. The question for us today is, “Are you truly satisfied?” It was the very question that the women in our story today had to answer. I pray you would be bold enough to consider that question for yourself, “Are you truly satisfied?” I pray you will find satisfaction as we consider Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world. 

The Savior Who Goes Where Others Will Not (John 4:1-6)

John tells us that when Jesus learned the Pharisees had taken notice of his growing ministry, he left Judea and set out for Galilee. John 4:1–6

Now when Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard that Jesus was making and baptizing more disciples than John (although Jesus himself did not baptize, but only his disciples), he left Judea and departed again for Galilee. And he had to pass through Samaria. So he came to a town of Samaria called Sychar, near the field that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there; so Jesus, wearied as he was from his journey, was sitting beside the well. It was about the sixth hour.

Jesus is moving according to the Father’s timing. His hour has not yet come, and so he withdraws, not because he is threatened, but because to fulfill his mission.

John then adds a striking phrase. “He had to pass through Samaria.” On one level, this was a geographical option. On another level, it was a theological necessity. Most Jews avoided Samaria altogether, traveling miles out of their way to bypass it. Jesus does not. He chooses the road others refuse to take.

The reason for that avoidance runs deep. Samaritans were considered half-breeds by the Jews, descendants of Israelites who had intermarried with pagans after the Assyrian exile. They accepted only the first five books of the Old Testament and rejected Jerusalem as the proper place of worship. To the Jews, they were ethnically compromised, theologically confused, and spiritually unclean. Centuries of hostility had hardened into open hatred. Jews did not eat with Samaritans, share utensils with them, or willingly enter their towns.

To grasp the depth of this hostility, it may help to think of a family feud rather than a foreign enemy. Jews and Samaritans shared history, land, and Scripture. But they also shared resentment. The Jews believed the Samaritans had compromised the faith and corrupted their heritage. That kind of division runs deeper than political disagreement. It shapes where you walk, who you speak to, and who you trust. 

And yet Jesus walks straight into open hostility into Samaria. He comes to a town called Sychar, near the field that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. There, John tells us, was Jacob’s well. This is not a throwaway detail. This is a place thick with history, a reminder of God’s covenant promises and the long story of redemption. The well speaks of heritage, provision, and God’s faithfulness to his people across generations. And it is here, at this ancient well, that the true fulfillment of those promises sits down. God will bless all the families of the earth. 

John then reminds us of one of the most profound truths in the Gospel. “Jesus, wearied as he was from his journey, was sitting beside the well.” The eternal Word is tired. The One through whom all things were made sits down because his legs ache and his body is spent. Jesus was made like us in every respect, yet without sin. He knows fatigue. He knows thirst. He knows what it is to be worn down by the road. And it is precisely here, in his weariness, that grace is about to meet a thirsty soul.

The Savior Who Offers What Others Cannot (John 4:7-15)

John tells us that a Samaritan woman came to draw water. On the surface, this seems ordinary, but this is no chance meeting.  John 4:7–15,

A woman from Samaria came to draw water. Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (For his disciples had gone away into the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a woman of Samaria?” (For Jews have no dealings with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have nothing to draw water with, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob? He gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did his sons and his livestock.” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water.”

She comes alone, and she comes at noon, the hottest part of the day. Most women drew water together in the cooler hours of the morning or evening. Her isolation hints that something is not right. Shame has a way of pushing people to the margins away from people.

Jesus speaks. “Give me a drink.” Those four words would have landed like a shock. A Jewish man speaks to a Samaritan. A rabbi addresses a woman. A holy man asks something of someone considered unclean. Jesus breaks multiple social and religious boundaries with a single sentence. Notice how Jesus does not begin with correction. He does not start with her past. He asks for help. He places himself in a position of need. This is grace. Jesus is drawing her in by lowering himself. The Savior who will soon offer living water begins with his thirst. John explains that the disciples had gone away to buy food, leaving Jesus alone. Just Jesus and a woman no one else wanted to talk to at the well in the brutal heat of the day.

Her response shows just how unusual this moment is. “How is it that you, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a woman of Samaria?” She knows the rules. She knows the hostility. She knows what is expected. Jews do not share cups with Samaritans. They do not touch the same vessels. They do not initiate conversation. She is not offended, rather she is stunned. And yet this is how grace works. Jesus does not wait for her to clean herself up, He speaks first. He crosses the divide. He initiates the conversation that will change her life. Grace always moves toward the unsatisfied, thirsty soul.

Jesus responds to the woman’s surprise by lifting her eyes beyond the well in front of her. “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” In a single sentence, Jesus reframes the entire conversation. This is no longer about ethnicity, etiquette, or water from a well. It is about a gift from God and the identity of the one offering it. It is about salvation and the Savior.

Jesus speaks of living water. In the Old Testament, living water refers to God himself, the source of life and renewal. Jeremiah 2:11–13

Has a nation changed its gods,

even though they are no gods?

But my people have changed their glory

for that which does not profit.

Be appalled, O heavens, at this;

be shocked, be utterly desolate,

declares the LORD,

for my people have committed two evils:

they have forsaken me,

the fountain of living waters,

and hewed out cisterns for themselves,

broken cisterns that can hold no water. 

 Jesus is now claiming to be that fountain of living waters. But the woman misunderstands, much like Nicodemus did earlier in this Gospel. Just as Nicodemus heard Jesus speak of new birth and could only think of entering the womb again, she hears Jesus speak of living water and can only think in physical terms. She looks at Jesus and sees no bucket, no rope, no visible means to draw water. She measures his words by what she can see. “Sir, you have nothing to draw water with, and the well is deep.” 

Then she asks whether he is greater than Jacob, the patriarch who gave them the well. Her question is more perceptive than she realizes. Jesus is greater than Jacob. He is the fulfillment of everything Jacob pointed toward, but she cannnot yet see it. Jesus presses the contrast. “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again.” Beloved, that is the cycle of the world. Drink, thirst, repeat. Every substitute for God works the same way. It promises relief, but never lasts. What well are you drinking as a substitute for God? 

Then Jesus makes a promise that sounds almost unbelievable. “Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again.” This is not a claim about physical thirst. It is a promise of deep, lasting satisfaction. The water Jesus gives becomes a spring within the person, welling up to eternal life. True life must come from above. 

For the first time, the woman’s response changes. She no longer questions Jesus’ ability. She expresses desire. “Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water.” She still misunderstands, but her heart has been stirred. She wants freedom from thirst, from labor, from the shame of drawing water in the heat of the day. She does not yet know how deep her thirst runs, but she knows she wants something different. Maybe that’s you too.

The Savior Who Sees What Others Cannot

At this point, the woman wants the water. She is drawn to the promise of relief, of a life where thirst no longer controls her. Yet before she can receive living water, she must understand the depth of her need for it. Jesus does not offer spiritual satisfaction without first exposing spiritual reality. Desire alone is not enough. True thirst must be uncovered. And so Jesus gently but deliberately turns the conversation from the living water to her sinful life, not to shame her, but to show her why she needs the water he alone can give. John 4:16–18,

Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come here.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you now have is not your husband. What you have said is true.” 

Jesus now turns the conversation in a surprising direction. “Go, call your husband, and come here.” At first, this sounds like a simple request. But it is far more than that. Jesus is not even changing the subject. He is exposing the root of her need. The woman responds honestly, but defensively. “I have no husband.” It is a true statement, but not a complete one. And Jesus responds with both affirmation and revelation. “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband.’ For you have had five husbands, and the one you now have is not your husband.” This is the moment where the living water meets the real thirst.

Jesus exposes her life not to humiliate her, but to heal her. He does not raise his voice. He does not accuse her publicly. He does not minimize her sin, and he does not crush her with it. He simply speaks the truth she has lived with every day. He is showing her that her thirst is not merely physical. It is relational. She has gone from relationship to relationship, husband to husband, looking for something that would satisfy her soul. Each time the well ran dry. Each time she was left empty.

We should pause here and consider what her life may have been like. Five marriages do not happen without loss. There would have been rejection, disappointment, grief, and shame layered over time. In a small community like Sychar, nothing stays private for long. Everyone would have known her story. The sideways glances. The whispered comments. The quiet exclusion. Her decision to come to the well alone, in the heat of the day, likely reflects more than convenience. It reflects a woman who had learned to stay on the margins, carrying the weight of her past and the loneliness of being known for all the wrong reasons.

This is not a story about a woman who was worse than everyone else. It is a story about a woman who did what all sinners do. She tried to fill a God-sized emptiness with human substitutes. Jesus knows her completely, all your sin, all your lusts and comes to her at that well. And in that moment, the woman begins to realize that she is standing before someone who sees everything she has ever done and he is offering true, lasting life.

And for some of you, her story feels uncomfortably close to home. Sexual sin has a way of promising intimacy and delivering isolation. Whether it is sex before marriage, sex outside of marriage, or patterns of immorality that you now carry with shame and regret, the cycle is often the same. You go back to the well hoping this time it will satisfy. And for a moment it feels like relief. But afterward comes the emptiness, the ache, and the quiet question of why you feel more hollow than before. John 4 is here to tell you that your thirst is not unique, and your sin is not beyond grace. The same Jesus who spoke truth to this woman is speaking to you, not to condemn you, but to offer living water that cleanses, restores, and truly satisfies.

John 4:19-26,

The woman said to him, “Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet. Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, but you say that in Jerusalem is the place where people ought to worship.” Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming (he who is called Christ). When he comes, he will tell us all things.” Jesus said to her, “I who speak to you am he.” 

As soon as Jesus exposes her life, the woman responds quickly. Some have suggested she is trying to change the subject, to move away from the discomfort of her sin. And there may be some truth in that. When the heart is laid bare, our instinct is often to redirect the conversation. 

I think she actually raises the very issue that has likely sat at the center of her struggle all along, where can someone like me, a sinner, truly meet God? For she acknowledges his spiritual authority. “Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet.” Her question about worship is not a distraction. It is a cry. She knows the debates. Mount Gerizim or Jerusalem. Samaritan worship or Jewish worship. And beneath the theology is a deeper question. Is there a place for me with God at all? Jesus’ answer lifts her eyes beyond geography. “The hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth.” Worship is no longer bound to a mountain or a city. It is bound to a person. God is not seeking the right location. He is seeking the right posture of heart.

To worship in spirit means worship that flows from a heart made alive by God’s Spirit, not merely external ritual. To worship in truth means worship shaped by God’s revealed Word. Spirit without truth becomes empty emotion. Truth without spirit becomes cold religion. Jesus then addresses the divide directly. Salvation is from the Jews. God’s promises, his covenants, and his Messiah come through Israel. This is not a dismissal of the Samaritans. It is an invitation to them to receive what God has provided in the Messiah.

The woman responds with hope. She speaks of the Messiah who is coming, the one who will explain everything. And then Jesus does something extraordinary. He removes all ambiguity. “I who speak to you am he.” This is one of the clearest self-revelations of Jesus in the Gospel of John. And notice who receives it. Not a religious leader in Jerusalem. Not a trained disciple. But a Samaritan woman with a broken past, standing beside a well in the brutal heat of the noon day sun carrying the brutal shame of life of sin. The Savior of all the world has come. 

The Savior Who Sends What Others Cannot (John 4:27-42)

The disciples return just as Jesus finishes revealing himself. John tells us they are surprised to find him talking with a woman, but they do not say anything. They sense that something holy is happening, even if they do not yet understand it. John 4:27–42,

Just then his disciples came back. They marveled that he was talking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you seek?” or, “Why are you talking with her?” So the woman left her water jar and went away into town and said to the people, “Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?” They went out of the town and were coming to him.

Meanwhile the disciples were urging him, saying, “Rabbi, eat.” But he said to them, “I have food to eat that you do not know about.” So the disciples said to one another, “Has anyone brought him something to eat?” Jesus said to them, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work. Do you not say, ‘There are yet four months, then comes the harvest’? Look, I tell you, lift up your eyes, and see that the fields are white for harvest. Already the one who reaps is receiving wages and gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together. For here the saying holds true, ‘One sows and another reaps.’ I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor. Others have labored, and you have entered into their labor.”

Many Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me all that I ever did.” So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them, and he stayed there two days. And many more believed because of his word. They said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is indeed the Savior of the world.” 

The woman wastes no time. John tells us she left her water jar behind and went back into the town. That detail matters. She does not need the jar anymore because she has found living water. The thing that once defined her daily routine, her shame, and her survival is no longer necessary. What she came to the well to get has been eclipsed by what Jesus has given her.

She begins telling the people, “Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did. Can this be the Christ?” Her words simply call others to come and see for themselves. The woman who once avoided the town now runs toward it, inviting those who knew her past to meet the Savior who did not turn her away. Living water does not end with personal satisfaction but overflows into public proclamation. After we taste salvation, we must have others drink this water as well. 

The disciples come back with food and urge Jesus to eat. And Jesus responds by sharing his purpose, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work.” Jesus does not live on bread alone but every word from his Father. Then Jesus lifts their eyes to the fields around them. “Look, I tell you, lift up your eyes, and see that the fields are white for harvest.” At this moment, the disciples likely saw Samaritans approaching. People they would have avoided. People they would have written off. Jesus sees harvest and wants them to see it too.

The Samaritans come to Jesus. Many believe because of the woman’s testimony. Then many more believe because they hear Jesus for themselves. And they declare something remarkable. “We know that this is indeed the Savior of the world.” That title matters. Jesus did not come just the Savior of Jews. Not just the hope of Samaritans. The Savior of the world. Living water has overflowed beyond one soul and into an entire community.

Church, do you really believe Jesus is the Savior of the world? The Samaritans end this story with a confession that should stop us in our tracks. “We know that this is indeed the Savior of the world.” Not the Savior of polite church people. Not the Savior of those who already have their lives together. Not the Savior only for people like us. The Savior of the world.

Beloved, let me ask you plainly. Do you believe that? Really believe it? Because if we do, it changes the way we speak. It changes the way we walk through our neighborhoods. It changes the way we view the people we tend to avoid, the ones we judge too quickly, the ones we assume are too far gone, the ones we think will never listen. If Jesus is the Savior of the world, then no one you meet is outside the reach of his mercy. No one is beyond the power of living water.

Church, if you believe he is the Savior, then go and invite others to come and see The woman is not trained. She is not polished. She does not have all her theology sorted out. But she has met Jesus, and she cannot keep it to herself. She simply invites others to, “Come, see.” That is evangelism in its simplest form. One thirsty sinner who found water telling other thirsty sinners where to drink.

Some of you have made sharing your faith far more complicated than Jesus ever made it. You think you need the perfect words, a perfect plan, or a perfect moment. But this woman teaches us that what we often need most is love and courage. The people around you do not need you to be impressive. They need you to be honest and clear. Come and see. Come and meet him. Come and hear him. Come and drink. So pray for one person. Invite one person. Speak to one person. You do not know what harvest God may bring through a simple invitation.

And for those of you this morning who know you are not satisfied, who are thirsty for living water, but drinking from wells that do not satisfy, I want you to hear this invitation. You have tried to quiet the ache in your soul with pleasure, with relationships, with control, with entertainment, with success, with pornography, with attention, with money, with achievements, with the next purchase, the next experience, the next affirmation. And it has not worked. It never does. It only leaves you empty. 

You keep returning to the same well. You keep telling yourself, just one more time then I’ll turn to God. Just one more relationship. Just one more night of comfort. Just one more moment of escape. And afterward you feel what you always feel. Emptiness. Shame. Regret. The lingering sense that you are lost.

Friend, your thirst is telling you the truth. You were not created to be satisfied by broken cisterns. You were made for God. And that is why nothing else can hold the weight of your soul. This passage is not here to mock you. It is here to invite you. Jesus does not meet this woman at the well to condemn her. He meets her to save her. He tells her the truth because he loves her. He exposes her sin because he intends to cleanse it. He names her emptiness because he is ready to fill it. 

You may think you are too dirty to come close to God. You may think your story disqualifies you. You may think you have gone too far or done too much. But look at the Savior in this text. He goes into Samaria. He sits down by the well. He speaks first. He stayed when he knew everything about the woman’s sin. John does not want us to merely admire Jesus at the well, but he wants us to believe that the man who said “I am he” is the promised Messiah who alone can satisfy our souls. This story is written that you believe Jesus is the Christ and by believing have life in his name. 

And we know he can make good on his promise to provide living water because there is another moment in the Gospels when Jesus asks for a drink. This time it is not beside a well in Samaria. It is on a hill outside Jerusalem. He is not seated in weariness. He is hanging in agony. Between two criminals, with nails in his hands and feet, Jesus cries out, “I thirst.” The One who offered living water now experiences thirst in its fullest and most terrible sense.

That thirst was more than physical. On the cross, Jesus was bearing the weight of sin, the judgment our souls deserved, and the separation that our rebellion had earned. He who is the fountain of living water willingly endured dryness, abandonment, and wrath so that thirsty sinners could be satisfied. At the well, Jesus offers water. At the cross, He refuses it. At the well, He promises satisfaction. At the cross, He absorbs judgment. The cup we deserved is emptied on Him so the cup He offers can overflow to us.The gospel is not that Jesus sympathizes with our thirst. It is that He trades places with us to satisfy that thirst. 

But the story does not end with thirst and death. On the third day, Jesus rose from the grave, victorious over sin and death. The empty tomb declares that the sacrifice was accepted and the promise of life secured. The risen Christ now offers living water with resurrection power. He became thirsty so that you might drink from his well. He was emptied so that you might be filled. And because he lives, the water he gives is not temporary relief but living water that will never run dry. He is the fountain of life. The wellspring that will satisfy your soul. 

If you are thirsty, come to Jesus. Do not come with promises that you will fix yourself first. Do not come with excuses. Do not come pretending. Come like the woman came, empty-handed and exposed and honest. Simply come. 

Jesus does not give living water to the impressive. He gives it to the thirsty. Revelation 22:17,

The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come.” And let the one who hears say, “Come.” And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price. 

Today can be the day you stop carrying an empty jar back to a dead well. Today can be the day you stop managing your sin and start confessing it. Today can be the day you stop hiding and start believing. Today can be the day when you can be truly satisfied. 

Come and see. Come and drink. Come to Jesus. And if you are ready today to turn from your sin and trust in Christ, then right where you are, call on him. Tell him the truth. “Lord, I am thirsty. Lord, I am empty. Lord, I have tried every other well. Lord, I need you. Save me. Cleanse me. Satisfy me.” And the amazing thing is, he will!!!

As we close, go back to where we began. Tantalus stood in nearness to abundance, but he could never taste it. The man at sea was surrounded by water, but every drink only made him more desperate. That is the picture of a life spent chasing satisfaction anywhere but God. But John 4 gives us a better ending. Jesus does not leave thirsty people reaching and failing. He does not invite us to sip at broken cisterns or to drown in salt water. He meets us at the well, tells the truth about our thirst, and then gives what only he can give, himself. Real satisfaction is not found in finally getting what you want. It is found in finally wanting the right thing. When you drink from Christ by faith, you are not just refreshed for a moment, you are changed forever.. The ache that drove you to every other well is met by a Savior who says, “I am he,” and who has proven it by thirsting in your place on the cross and rising to life for your soul. So come to him again today. Lay down the empty jar. Stop running to water that cannot satisfy. Drink deeply of Christ, and you will find that the One you were made for will truly satisfy your soul.

O come, all you unfaithful

Come, weak and unstable

Come, know you are not alone

O come, barren and waiting ones

Weary of praying, come

See what your God has done

Christ is born, Christ is born

Christ is born for you

O come, bitter and broken

Come with fears unspoken

Come, taste of His perfect love

O come, guilty and hiding ones

There is no need to run

See what your God has done

Christ is born, Christ is born

Christ is born for you

He's the Lamb who was given

Slain for our pardon

His promise is peace

For those who believe

He's the Lamb who was given

Slain for our pardon

His promise is peace

For those who believe

So come, though you have nothing

Come, He is the offering

Come, see what your God has done

Christ is born, Christ is born

Christ is born for you

Christ is born, Christ is born

Christ is born for you

O Come All You Unfaithful

CCLI Song # 7160115

Bob Kauflin | Lisa Clow

© 2020 Sovereign Grace Praise