So begins our ‘Lent of long stories.’ There are layers to this encounter from John’s gospel that seem unnecessary. Who cares that the disciples had gone for food, or that the woman had several partners in the course of her life. The narrator assumes much about the disciple’s state of mind. We are given a short lesson in the social gap between Jewish and Samaritan habits. Where is the good news in this (I’m sorry) tedious gospel passage?

For reasons unknown, their return to Galilee from Jerusalem (for the Passover) takes Jesus happy gang through Samaria. Not enemy territory, but neither is it a comfortable place to be. A remnant of thought from the days of divided kingdom – an echo of the old days, when Israel & Judah were ruled separately, worshipped separately, and were dealt with separately by God through the prophets. A difficult time, which should by rights have been well forgotten. After all, wasn’t Rome the common enemy now?

But we know of such divisions – even in our times. Protestants and Roman Catholics have developed a kind of truce in much of the world, but still…methods and preferred outcomes don’t always match. The friction between Samaria and Judea was real - and troubling. So, Jesus is face to face with a woman in Samaritan territory. A recipe for trouble, that yields something surprising. Trust.

Assumptions are troubling things. They root deep and they grow unwieldy. Assumptions overshadow reality and choke out new possibilities. John’s gospel is riddled with assumptions – some of them ours.

We might assume that this is a text about conversion. “Many Samaritans from the city believed in him…” But the woman has already indicated that at least some Samaritans were waiting expectantly for Messiah who “…will proclaim all things to us.” It’s not that these are unbelievers. The Samaritans believe…differently. This is a text about understanding in spite of differences.

We have been told - by preachers and hymns and all manner of other methods - that our task is to trust and believe. The words are before us. The life of Christ is told in short but compelling episodes.

The Risen Christ is promised to be in our midst. And we are urged to trust…and believe. But words alone can be twisted - or simply misunderstood. Jesus biggest impact is always in a face-to-face encounter.

That’s no help, I hear you say. Jesus has long since passed beyond our sight. We have nothing but words and traditions. How can we ever receive the benefit of a ‘face-to-face’ with Jesus? What would that look like?

Well, sometimes it’s the least likely experience. I have met Jesus in a Muslim man - my friend Ali - who taught me the truth about hospitality among strangers.

I have been brought closer to Christ by those who claim they don’t believe in God: people who show courage and grace - who live with tremendous compassion and genuine love.

I have been forced to confront Jesus in the angry voices of those whom Scripture reminds me are also beloved children of a generous, gracious God.

And every time, while the words and traditions might render them suspicious or foolish (or even dangerous in my eyes) - when I am in their presence - when we sit side-by-side or speak fact-to-face, my heart is softened, and some understanding is quite often achieved.

We inhabit a world that is being changed rapidly by human conflict. Not just the big, ugly fighting wars, but the wars of words that engulf us through news and social media. We can hear the small battles (if you care to listen) in every coffee shop and restaurant in the county. You can see it in the way people look cautiously at groups of passing teenagers (‘kids these days…’ is the opening salvo in the war on youth). The church is changing in ways we don’t always like, for reasons we don’t really understand, and we are guilty of looking back to the past - of remembering old methods and older ‘standards.’ We want a return to something that we have read about. But what if we dared to meet this new, strange reality? What if we met our fears (and our doubts) face to face? What would happen then.

I am the wrong person to help you come to terms with vast political differences. My buttons get pushed too quickly. I have a hard time being objective.

The gap in our faith communities between what we wish for and what is possible - maybe that is the challenge we can navigate.

In a town - a region - that was deeply convicted about how faithfulness worked, Jesus met and talked and found common ground. Those same Samaritans saw a wandering Jewish rabbi, and - having overcome their long-held bias - discovered a new, shared purpose. None of this happens by mail. The difficult work of adapting to the way that God is at work in the world is about meeting and listening and even arguing and experimenting to find the truth rooted in all of our best intentions.

Jesus stays a while, and then moves on. We never meet this woman or these Samaritan townsfolk again. But the lesson of this encounter - the assumptions so easily overcome - the value of careful but genuine inquiry - would remind us that God is working (and Jesus is waiting) to meet us in the most unlikely places and people.