What a story! On the face of it Jesus is simply talking to someone as he did so many times along his journey. Yet, as always, he has profound messages to share. The story takes place at a well where the women came to draw water for their families. It is a social gathering place where families, life in the village, ideas, and events were shared. It is the 6^th hour, around noon. The sun is high and the day is hot. Jesus has traveled far on a dusty road when he comes to Samaria. He is tired and thirsty. The well is 100’ deep and he does not have a bucket with which to draw some water. Just then the Samaritan woman nears the well and Jesus invites her into conversation, by saying, "Give me a drink."

This sounds like an ordinary encounter, but in those days, in that place, it was not. Jesus was traveling by foot from the south part of Palestine to the north; from Judea to Galilee. The distance was approximately 120 miles. There was a shorter route through Samaria, but Jews did not use this road, to avoid any contact with the Samaritans. Centuries before Jesus was born, the Jews of this area had intermarried with several countries thus destroying the purity of the race, upheld by the Jewish people. The Samaritans worshipped other gods and did not uphold the Jewish laws. So abhorrent to Jews was this condition, that they built roads to avoid coming anywhere near Samaria. The Samaritans were considered the untouchables, ostracized for what they had done. This deeply entrenched prejudice prevented any contact.

Also, at this time, women held no status or respect in the culture and there was a hard and fast rule that rabbis were never to look at any woman in public, let alone speak to them; not to a friend, a spouse, a sister or even a mother. It was strictly forbidden. But on this particular day, Jesus ignored that rule.

The Samaritan woman approaches and as she nears the well she notices that this man is a rabbi. Stunned by this unusual and forbidden behavior she wonders: Who is this man? What was he doing here? Is he lost? She is without words; but just then he speaks and she finds herself invited into a most unlikely conversation.

As it happens, Jesus’ disciples have gone to town for food, providing an opportunity for the two of them to be alone to talk. Jesus’ behavior was unusual, but so was the woman’s. She is there in the heat of the day, at high

noon, whereas the other women come either in the cool of the evening, or at dawn, to draw water for their families. They enjoy the company of the other women. But here, The Samaritan woman comes alone, during the hottest time of the day.

One can speculate as to why she was there by herself. Had she done something to be ostracized from the other women, or the town itself? Had she lost track of time? Had she used up the day’s water prematurely? Did she have an unsavory reputation? The text does not reveal this information.

Jesus says "Give me a drink." And the conversation begins. The two of them talk about water. She is there for drinking water but Jesus is talking to her about living water. Both are talking about the same thing yet very different things. Both are talking about life-giving water, but not the same kind. She is fixated on his eyes, his words and how much he knows about her, even though they just met. She listens carefully, drawn by his non judging ways, so unlike everyone else she knows.

Much has been made of this woman who had 5 husbands and is now living with one to whom she is not married. But not much has been made of how her context was one very different from the rules of the Jewish faith. She lived in a culture that worshipped many gods. Women were most vulnerable to death without the protection of a male; whether a brother, a husband, a father or an uncle. It was imperative that a woman had someone who could provide for her because she was forbidden to provide for herself.

Jesus does not refuse to talk with her. He does not get up and leave. Instead he introduces her to the idea that because of this encounter, she will soon believe in the one true God. In this dramatic moment, the woman says "I know the Messiah is coming and when he does he will tell us everything." Jesus looks at her tenderly, and says simply, "I am he." And then something clicks inside of her. She stares at him incredulously. It is at that moment that everything comes together for her, and she believes.

She drops her jar and runs for her village waving her arms and yelling in her excitement. No longer does her status trap her. She does not think of the men who have humiliated her. She ignores the pain she felt when the other women ignored her at the well. She forgets how vulnerable she is without the protection of a husband. She runs and calls to the others. She can’t help it. She is so excited she cannot wait to tell her story to all who will listen.

She has just met someone who has given her living water; who has freed her like her gods and her village was unable to do. She wanted to shout it to the mountain tops. "I have met a man who is different; a man who knows who I am and it is OK. When she told them what happened at the well, they were amazed and believed her. They believed in Jesus because of her story. They came out to meet him because of her, and many more believed.

This unlikely conversation changed a village. I think there are times in our lives when we experience an unlikely conversation with Jesus too. And if we don’t think so, we need to tune in more regularly, or we will miss it. These are the times when we, like the Samaritan woman want to run, run from all that restrains us, waving our arms in excitement to tell our story. But too often we screech to a halt, afraid of what others will think.

By the way, this is true for pastors too. There are times we want to keep our identity confidential. Last week as Allen and I were coming through customs in Atlanta, the officer, looked up from his form and said to me, "You sound like a teacher." I said, "Well, I was once." He asked, the dreaded question: th "So what do you do now?" When I told him I was a pastor, he set down the form, leaned in closer and said, "No jive…..you mean you’re one of those preachers on TV?! Like the ones who heal people with a whack on the forehead?"

You see, even for us, it is difficult to share our faith sometimes, when we face another’s misconception. Most of us have a ready list of why we should not share our faith, caring more about what others think than what God thinks. Yet, when we set down our fears and excuses, a village can be changed because of us too.

Consider the wells of your lives; those places where you long to drink deeply but the well is dry. Then in comes Jesus, sits down beside you and offers you some living water and something happens. Jesus invites us to tell our story; and in the telling we are receiving this living water. Our thirst is quenched. We are not the same.

The Samaritan Woman did not hoard her story. With reckless abandon she ran to her people to tell it. She did not stop first and run through her rolodex of excuses, but ran as fast as she could to tell her people what had happened to her.

Why do we run in fear of telling our story, instead of joy like the woman at the well? Jesus is not asking us to do the impossible. I think Jesus is asking us to look for bridges to engage in another’s story, instead of work on our defenses of why we cannot. For example, instead of saying, "I’m uncomfortable in a SS class, come and decide to listen instead of talk.

On this stewardship Sunday, the subject is about talents. You know what talents are. Biblically, it meant money. But it also means those gifts from God, that identify our ways of being and our ways of doing. Talents can mean skills or abilities that give us joy; like a pianist or a dancer; an author or an athlete. It can mean a skill in earning money or being gifted at fixing things. It can be an initiator or an administrator; a visionary or an organizer. It is given that we might offer it to others. So today, in addition to our time and money, I invite you to consider making a pledge of your talents too.

I think the primary talent in this story was the faith of the Samaritan Woman.

She had plenty of reasons never to mention this forbidden encounter with Jesus. But on this day she drank deeply of some living water. In this unlikely conversation, something happened to her. She had been accepted, respected and loved, in ways she could not keep to herself. She simply had to tell the others what happened to her. Whatever she had been, she was changed. Whoever she was before, she was different. So visible was it that others believed in Jesus because of her story.

Our most valuable talent is our faith too. For some of us our faith began growing in childhood; for others it lay dormant until we were adults. However faith came to be within us, we became new people when we dipped our toes into that living water. So it is in both the telling and the receiving of a story that we are changed.

I have just come back from a trip to Italy where what I learned superceded what I saw. We and the Baxley’s traveled to join an REI hiking group in Chink qua Tay ra. The group was from around the US with a variety of occupations making for a fascinating group experience. There were nurses, realtors, an ER doctor, an artist, a translator; there were librarians, and a financial reporter for a NYC news service an international buyer for REI. We experienced these unique villages nestled along the beautiful Adriatic Sea.

One night, in Riomaggiore, Giorgio, the owner of our quaint hotel invited us for hors d’ouerves and a lecture on Italian life. Although he spoke only in Italian, I was mesmerized by the passion he had in telling his story. How he came to marry into this village, why he loved and protected his culture. He wanted us to know his love for this place through stories of his life, the expectations of the village, and even the message of the church bells. In his gracious gift of hospitality, he was telling us of his life. His talent for storytelling melded with the talent of the translator, who conveyed not only his message, but his ever deeper feelings, passion, and love of this place. I was captivated in part because this is what Jesus does when he invites us to tell our faith story. For it is in this kind of story, even more than a vacation, that our lives are changed.

Whether we are sharing coffee with a friend, sitting in on an adult Sunday School class, or on a hike with a complete stranger, we have a story to hear, and a story to tell. No one else has our story.

This morning, you have witnessed different ways of telling your story. You have experienced the power of putting yourselves into the Biblical narrative through storytelling. You have experienced the power of graceful movement that invites us into the dance of our faith.

In it all, we can see the similarities between ourselves and the Samaritan Woman, regardless of our gender. We know what it feels like to be shunned in conversations; or not invited to parties. We have done things that we regret. But when we put ourselves in a place where Jesus can speak to us, we too, can have an unlikely conversation with Jesus, when this greatest talent, our faith, will rise up within us. And when it does, we must run, run as fast as we can, to tell our story in the village where we live.