Jesus says to her, I who speak to thee am [he].
The woman at the well has just named her one hope: a coming Messiah who will settle every question. The tired traveller who asked her for a drink answers that He is the One. Why did Jesus make that claim here, and why to her?
Commentators note how rare this moment is.
John 4:26 and following — The first direct assertion by our Lord that He is "the Christ," and outside Jewish territory.
The title was rare on His own lips. One writer links that silence to the death He came to die.
You never find the Lord saying He is the Christ, except to the woman of Samaria, "I who speak to you am He," and that was to a person who had no right to Christ. He delights to call Himself Son of man. He knew He had come to give His life a ransom for many, and so could not speak of Himself as the Christ. The Gospels are really the history of His rejection. In Samaria it was out of the way to do it, in one sense, because salvation is of the Jews.
Before He tells her who He is, He has told her what she is. That exposure is what makes her long for the One standing there.
In the presence of her sins she feels that earthly religion, whether in this place or that, will be of no use. Her sins exposed and her religion withered up, she knows that none but the coming Christ can meet her case. Christ as the Prophet has convinced her of her need of Christ as a Saviour. Her words are really the expression of the desire, "Oh that Christ were come!"
The exact wording carries the weight. He does not point to a Messiah somewhere else.
It was not merely, "I am He," but "I who speak to you am He." In these words He reveals His glory. He stands before her as the Messiah. He could, as she had said, tell all things. And He had now, as she had proved, really told all things — things that were terrible to hear for an awakened conscience. But He reveals it along with the sweet, humble, inviting grace of one who was sitting and talking with her. And this gave her soul the right to find freedom where she might have expected to be overwhelmed.
She had said the Messiah would tell them all things. One writer counts up what He had already told her.
The One who sat by the well had told her of her past and present life. He had also told her that the Samaritan worship was false. He had told her what He could give. He had told her about God, and about the worshippers the Father was seeking. And to crown it all, He had now told her that He was the Christ.
Her grasp of His words was thin. What settled the matter was not her understanding but His answer.
Her understanding may have been small. She could not grasp what Jesus had told her. Still, His love meets her where she can receive blessing and life, and He replies, "I who speak to you am He." The work was done: she had received the Lord. A poor Samaritan sinner receives the Messiah of Israel, whom the priests and the Pharisees had rejected from among the people.
The well is a pattern, not an exception. A warning comes with it for anyone who puts off the meeting.
Faith always meets Christ. He is the great divine discovery to the soul. All must meet Him on the throne one day. But this will be everlasting ruin for those who do not meet Him now. For them it will be judgment… To meet Him now by faith is life and salvation, as the Samaritan proved. Thousands saw and heard Him while on earth. But where there was no faith, there was no life. It was when the woman believed that she received the blessing.
- Exposed — He reached her conscience first. Her sins uncovered and her religion emptied out, she needed the very Christ she named.
- Revealed — to that need He gives the one open claim of His ministry, outside Jewish territory, to a woman with no right to it.
- Near — the force is in "who speak to you": the Messiah is not a distant figure but the One already talking with her in grace.
- Received — her understanding was small, but she received Him: a Samaritan sinner welcomed the Messiah the leaders had rejected.
- Now — everyone meets Him in the end. Meeting Him by faith today is the difference between blessing and judgment.
And upon this came his disciples, and wondered that he spoke with a woman; yet no one said, What seekest thou? or, Why speakest thou with her?
The disciples come back from town and find their Master at a well in Samaria, talking with a Samaritan woman. They are astonished — yet not one of them asks Him why.
Their surprise had a reason behind it. Commentators point to a rule of Jewish teaching:
The rule of the Jewish teachers, often quoted (from Dr. John Lightfoot), was that a man should not speak even to his wife in the street... The writer's knowledge of this prejudice is one of the signs that he was himself a Jew.
Custom and grace pulled in opposite directions:
It was contrary to man's thoughts that God should stoop so low, as to sit talking like this to a vile Samaritan woman. The disciples marvelled that He talked with her in this way. It was not fitting, they thought, for a Rabbi. Very likely! But it was fitting for God in grace.
Their astonishment stopped at the sight of Him speaking with a woman. She had far more reason to wonder than they did:
Their wonder was that He spoke with a woman. What was hers, who knew that every secret of her heart lay open before Him? His grace, however, had fully prepared the way... She was not the one seeking, at any rate: the Father was seeking such people. And it was not a matter of talking with her, but of revealing to her. The disciples had much to learn. If they had known what the conversation was about, they would have wondered far more.
They understood one thing about Him and missed another:
Meanwhile the disciples come, and — naturally — marvel at His talking with the woman. They understood that He was their Master, the Messiah. But the grace of God shown in the flesh was still beyond their thoughts.
Their limit went deeper still. Even the glory of His Sonship was beyond them:
The disciples came up and marvelled, for they could not understand the glory that His Sonship gave Him... He was talking with a Samaritan woman; what did this mean? They did not have the Spirit. So they could see nothing of the great harvest that the Spirit — who dwelt in Him without measure — would bring in as the servant of the Father's love.
The verse also records what no one said. Commentators differ on what that silence meant. One reads it as communion — a shared sense of His mind that needed no words:
In John 4 the disciples beautifully sensed His spirit, and stood back, keeping silent. That is communion. The deepest and richest communion is often silent. No one said, "Why are You talking with her?"
Another reads it as distance — thoughts they were not willing to bring to Him:
The disciples, returning from the city, "marveled that he was talking with a woman". Slow to appreciate the greatness of the grace of God, they marvelled, even as we still marvel, at such a scene. Sadly, as so often, ignorance of grace goes with moral distance from the Lord. So they were afraid to tell Him the thoughts passing through their minds. They did not see that God, in the greatness of His grace, had come down into this world in the Person of the Son to seek worshippers.
The disciples marvelled at the broken custom. There was something far better to marvel at:
The disciples came and marvelled that He talked with the woman, and well they might, for the grace that made Him do it was marvellous. That grace looks for no merit in its objects, but blesses them because of what it is itself... The Shepherd had found His sheep. The Father had found one of the first of those worshippers who would worship Him in spirit and in truth. The Father and the Son rejoiced together.
- Marvel — the disciples marvelled only that He spoke with a woman. Jewish teaching said a man should not speak even to his wife in the street.
- Misplaced — their wonder landed on the broken custom, not on the conversation. If they had known what He was saying, they would have wondered far more.
- Missing — they knew Him as Messiah. But grace shown in flesh was beyond their thoughts, and they saw nothing of the harvest ahead.
- Mute — no one asked Him a thing. Commentators differ: was that silence communion with His mind, or distance from Him?
- Marvellous — the true wonder is grace itself. It looks for no merit, and blesses because of what it is.