An Ordinary Conversation, A Divine Encounter

Apr 26, 2026 | Articles

As we journey through lent, we are following a narrative of the people Jesus encountered. Two weeks ago (22 February 2026), Jesus was tempted by the tempter on the way to the cross. Then Nicodemus came to Jesus at night; and today we hear of the woman at the well.

The Samaritan woman (c.1919), by Ettore Tito

The Samaritan woman (c.1919), by Ettore Tito

She is so often presented as a fallen woman, and I think that she has been misdescribed. I think that she is a woman that has experienced great tragedy. She has had five husbands. I wonder where those men are now? Were they killed in war? Had they died of illness? Or as we heard four weeks ago, was she a woman who was divorced because she burned the dinner?

Whether her husbands were killed or died of illness, this woman, whose name we don’t remember, arrived at the well in the middle of the day.

Was she shunned by her community, or was she too depressed to get out of bed earlier? I’m going for the second option there. And Jesus knew that she was not married to the person that she was with. And that invites the question “why not?”. I don’t think this is about a woman’s promiscuity. This is about a man not standing up. She lived in a society where every woman needed a man to protect her, whether that be her father, or husband or her son. The social codes were prescriptive.If she was a widow, then the person who would marry her next was clearly defined. And that person had not stepped up. She was let down by her community.

But she does not let down her community.

Let us contrast the woman at the well with Nicodemus, who we saw last week. Nicodemus arrived in the dark, whereas it is in the brightness of the noonday sun that we encounter the woman at the well. Nicodemus is male, he’s educated, he’s a Pharisee. He initiated the conversation with Jesus. And he has a name. The woman, on the other hand, is a woman. She’s a Samaritan – that means she’s a political outsider. She was the one who approached Jesus. And I believe she had a name as well, we just don’t remember what it is. Jesus engages with her theologically. And Jesus made her an offer of living water. And she received it. I don’t think she completely knew what it was that Jesus was saying, but she grabbed it with both hands.

The other thing that we know about this woman is that she was credible. She went into the village and she spoke of the most extraordinary things. And nobody rolled their eyes. We all know people, they say things and we sigh. She was thinking theologically. She was acting as an evangelist. And when she spoke, people believed her. Her village heard her speak and they believed her. They invited the Messiah to stay on.

This is a woman that we remember today. And she sets an example for us. In many ways, this conversation is a conversation between two ordinary people. If we were observing this from a little distance away, we would see a normal and everyday thing happening.
I hope that like this woman, you are having ordinary, normal, everyday conversations. I hope that you’re putting other people at the centre, listening to what is being said. And listening to what is being left unsaid, listening to hear their story and holding their story. Not waiting for a moment where you can jump in with your own story, listening intently and holding that story with the preciousness that Jesus held stories as well.

And this ordinary conversation is also a divine conversation. We each have an opportunity to listen, not just to the person in front of you, but also listening to the voice of God.
This week, I ignored that little nudge that I have from time to time, a nudge that is the voice of God. I thought, “I can’t say that”. I thought, “I’m too new here”. I thought “saying that would be like unpinning a hand grenade and throwing it in the middle of the conversation”. And still I heard the nudge “just say it”. And finally I did, and it landed, deeply. Teresa of Avila says that Jesus has no hands and no feet but ours. And, I would add, Jesus has no ears but ours. I invite you to spend this week and the weeks ahead to be part of ordinary conversations where we are listening deeply to the stories of others and holding them gently in your hands.

And also listening for those divine conversations where the voice of God speaks so very quietly, but the voice of God speaks. And so, in the same way the people in the village heard the woman come back and say, “I have met the messiah”, the people said “we have heard it for ourselves and we know that this is truly the saviour of the world”, can people encounter Jesus because of the way in which you both listen to them and that you hear the divine voice speaking as you hold those precious conversations?

Are you up for it? Oh, some people indicated yes. Are you up for it?
Amen.

A recorded version of this sermon can be founded on the Parish of Fendalton website. Sermons – St Barnabas Anglican. It was originally preached on 8 March 2026

Lent 3 – John 4:5-42
Sermon by Rev’d Kay Webster
St Barnabas, Fendalton, Christchurch 8 March 2026
Used with kind permission

 
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