We have little concept these days of the communal nature of bringing water home for cooking, washing and drinking. We turn on a tap and there it is. Period. What’s to get excited about?

But where there are no pipelines, you have to take your jars and go out of your house to the water source — the river, or the well in a desert town, or where the water truck stops that supplies your village. Water is heavy —more than eight pounds a gallon — and people need a lot of it, so fetching it by hand is a major chore. But it’s also an opportunity to see your neighbors, pass the time of day, catch up on the news. (Amazing, isn’t it, how the great life-giving values exist side by side with the smaller ones.)

No one is allowed to use all the water himself. No one may deprive anyone else of it. It is a resource that must be shared with those who are thirsty. It must be kept clean and healthful, and not polluted in any way.

But the disciples were horrified. Water from the well was one thing, but from a woman? And a Samaritan woman, at that? Even the bowls and cups the Samaritans used were considered unclean. For them, it was like accepting a cup of raw sewage.

The woman’s standpoint was pretty basic, however: you simply could not refuse water to a thirsty traveler. You could give him a little sly banter, but you couldn’t let him go thirsty. That would have been against God’s law. Then Jesus gave her the good news that he was the living water that would quench all thirst.

Some pastors will not allow their music ministries and assemblies to sing Marty Haugen’s “All Are Welcome.” Their reasoning is that all are not welcome — and some have lists of the unwelcome ones.

But the living water is for everyone. Jesus said so.
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