"The centuries-old Roman road rose from the plains of Jericho, twisting up through the hills on the east bank of the Jordan, meandering toward the cool meadows and vistas of Galilee.

Soon, after rising, and crossing the river back into the hill country of Samaria, we came upon Wadi Farah, where we paused for refreshment. Jesus regularly sought to get a few miles behind us before we ate. Breakfast consisted of biscuits, dried fish, grapes and water from the Wadi. It was early spring in the month of Iyar. The stream gurgled with rushing water. In a few months, the stream would recede and by late Elul, it would be dry again and remain so until the rains of winter and spring came again.

The terrain became one hill after another and rocks on the road made traveling by foot difficult. In the distance, mount Gerizim could be seen. Afternoon sun poured its heat on the countryside and still Jesus and the rest of us journeyed on. At length we came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob's well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from walking altogether about twenty miles through hot, rocky hill and vale, sat down by the well.

A focal point of the surrounding countryside, the well enjoyed constant activity. Sychar was only a half-mile away. Women of the town met here early in the day to visit and draw water. The bucket dropped endlessly down into the blackness before they could hear a splash at the bottom. They would often sing as they carried the cool water back to their homes.

There were other travelers, for the ancient well was now the crossroads of several Roman highways. It wasn't the only well in the vicinity and there were many springs from which water could be taken. But Jacob's well was a place where friends met and passed a few minutes or hours talking. Jesus perched himself on the parapet surrounding the well. Had someone given him a push, he would have tumbled into the abyss. Leaving John behind to remain with Jesus, we all went into town to buy food.

An attractive woman approached the well to draw water. As she filled her pots, Jesus, his mouth dry from dust said to her, "Will you please give me a drink?" John stared at him in shock. What is this?

The woman glared at Jesus in mock surprise as well. She was not unaccustomed to men approaching her. She had heard more than a few opening lines at this well. She replied with an affected boredom, "You are a Jew." How had she known? One is left to surmise. Perhaps it was clear that we had just arrived from the south via the road that came from Judea. Perhaps there was something in our clothing or appearance that marked us, something thought typical of Jews, by Samaritans. One could easily surmise that the two peoples were, at the very least, lacking in affection toward one another. "How is it that you ask a Samaritan woman for a drink?" She did not disguise her annoyance.

Jesus answered her, "So what if I am a Jew? And why should I not ask for a drink if I am thirsty, of a Samaritan woman or, for that matter, any other woman?"

As the woman allowed the line of the pail to pay out into the blackness, she turned to Jesus and spoke coyly, "Well, how refreshing! I do not often hear such straight talk, especially from a Jew."

"Perhaps," Jesus responded, "if you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water."

The gift of God? Who is this man? Whoever he is, he seems rather taken with himself. Incredulous, the woman said with a suspicious smile, "You ah, have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where do you propose to get this living water?" She said the words, "living water" with a lilt in her voice as though it was a delightful fancy. "Do you think yourself to be a person of consequence? Perhaps you are greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself?" This with playful condescension.

Jesus smiled back, "Is it not true," he responded, "that everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again?" Without waiting for a reply he continued, "Those who drink the water I give will never thirst again."

The woman's eyes widened. She wondered if Jesus were sane, and determined not to be impressed by these wild, reckless exaggerations. She had seen this sort of thing in many men. This fool was obviously desperate.

"Well," she rejoined, "I guess that does make you special!"

"Indeed," Jesus went on, "the water I give will become a spring of water bubbling up to eternal life."

"Eternal life? Of course!" Playing along with what she thought was flirtatious comments intended to keep her interested, the woman said invitingly, "Then give me this water so that I won't get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water. Give me this water," she laughed, "so that I may remain young and pretty." She was, she thought, in control. She was enjoying this.

Jesus looked at her, his expression flat, compelling her to look back, to respond to him, to stop being coy, to listen without distraction. "Go, Alathia," he said, "call your husband and ask him to join us." With this, the conversation took an arresting turn.

"I have no husband," He should like that, she thought, ". . . but how knows he my name?

There was a pause, almost as if Jesus were seriously considering the implied invitation. Even John began to wonder about his Master. Just when he almost said something about the direction this conversation was taking, the poignancy of silence vanished as Jesus said evenly, "You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is dear one, you have had five husbands, and the man you live with now is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true."

Everything changed.