When we travel into a foreign country we rely on others to help us. I think reading the Gospel of John takes us into strange territory, so I have found writers of commentaries on John to be useful tour guides, especially if they can read the Greek and understand literary analysis.

For instance, good commentators point out the author’s predilection for word plays. Jesus declares to Nicodemus in John 3:3 that he must be born anothen. This can mean that Nicodemus must be born "again" or that Nicodemus must be born "from above." Which meaning does Jesus have in mind? Perhaps he has both.

Pneuma, the Greek word for "Spirit," can also mean "wind." Jesus shifts from one meaning to the other and back again in John 3:5–8. The Greek word for "living" water can also mean "flowing" or artesian water. In John 4:10, Jesus offers the woman at the well "living water." At first she misunderstands, thinking he is offering her "flowing water" or artesian water that didn’t require a bucket. Later on in 7:37–39 Jesus offers the "living water" to anyone who desires.

Capable commentators remind us that the divisions between chapters are a late innovation that sometimes cause us to miss important connections. So we ought to connect John 2:25 directly to John 3:1: "Now there was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus." The three appearances of "man" in 2:25 tip us off that Jesus is not going to entrust himself to Nicodemus as "a man of the Pharisees." This may also mean that Nicodemus is a type or representative of untrustworthy humankind. That seems to be the case when Jesus addresses him as "You" in the plural.

Literate analysts of John invite us to compare Nicodemus with the woman at the well. On the one hand, we read about a Jewish male, a recognized religious leader, who comes to see Jesus at night. On the other hand, we read about a Samaritan female whose religious authority is non-existent and who meets Jesus at noon.

One comes with a defined view about Jesus’ identity as a teacher and resists Jesus’ efforts to raise his sights; the other initially sees him only as a Jew but progressively recognizes him as a prophet and eventually the Messiah. The outsider is the one to whom Jesus reveals himself more fully, and so forth. You can add to this list of comparisons. The point is that the author has encouraged us to note the contrasts by placing the two stories almost side by side.

These brief observations suggest the ways that commentators as trained tour guides help us see what we might have overlooked or misunderstood in our reading of the text by ourselves. But the writers of commentaries do not exhaust the possibilities for good advice. To illustrate, I am indebted to three individual readers of John 4 who have enriched my own understanding.

Larry Veverka: Years ago, he and I taught a course on personal ministry at Walla Walla College for sophomore theology majors. It was his job to present the practical aspects and my job to ensure a proper biblical basis for the class. Yet I learned from the way he read the Bible. He used John 4 to highlight Jesus’ methods of personal ministry.

For instance, Jesus goes where the woman was. He awakens her interest and leads her to ask for what he had. For her part, the woman attempts to change the subject when the conversation becomes personal. When Jesus has led her to belief, she responds naturally by sharing her belief with others. This short list doesn’t do justice to Veverka’s developed lecture outline. But it is enough to show the possibilities when we see Jesus as model and teacher as well as Savior.

Did the author of John intend for the text to be read this way? Suppose for the sake of argument that the human author of the narrative didn’t write the text as a manual on personal evangelism. Would this preclude a legitimate reading of the text as Veverka does?

Larry Veverka was keenly interested in the personal dimension of religious communication and naturally looked to Jesus as an exemplar. Elsewhere in the book Jesus presents himself that way. Jesus invites us to consider the love between the Father and the Son as exemplary of the love and unity that is to exist within the community of believers throughout time (for example, in 17:11, 20, 21,26, and so forth). Jesus washes the disciples’ feet and enjoins his followers to do the same (13:12–16). Jesus as the Word and the Way is both Savior and model.

Elaine Giddings: In a speech I heard by the distinguished Adventist educator, Elaine Giddings, she reminded us that Jesus entrusted himself to this woman, not to Nicodemus. She must have been a reliable and persuasive go-between. Look again at her marital history. It has usually been described as a massive failure. But can we assume that all these marriages ended in failure?

Perhaps as a young bride her parents married her to an older man who left her a widow. More to the point, each of those marriages was agreed to or initiated by a man who entrusted her with his fortune and reputation. And this in a society where male honor could be demolished by an indiscrete female member of the household.

Imagine five men proposing marriage. How many woman can claim that sort of record? Whatever the reasons for the ending of her five marriages, she obviously possessed charm. And her exchange with Jesus reveals a high level of social skills, a probing theological curiosity, and personal intelligence.

I wonder why it was a woman, Elaine Giddings, who pointed this out to me. She drew on the same data available to any other serious student of the Bible. Did it have something to do with her experience as a female professor in a largely male educational enterprise that sensitized her to see what others had overlooked?

Lucille Knapp: Now retired Lucille Knapp taught Greek for decades to developing pastors in the School of Theology at Walla Walla College. She pointed them to the nuance in the way the woman addresses the villagers in John 4:29. Drawing on her knowledge of Greek syntax, she observed that the woman does not say, "This man is the Messiah, isn’t he?"—a statement that anticipates a positive answer. Instead, the woman speeks the Greek equivalent of "This isn’t the Messiah, is it?" (4:29). Compare her apparent uncertainty with the overwhelmingly positive declarations of Andrew and Philip to their companions after meeting Jesus (1:41, 45)!

Knapp drew the conclusion that the woman was a shrewd female in a male dominated world. Men were the priests, scribes, and Pharisees with the requisite training, authority, and responsibility to decide in religious matters in Jewish society. Presumably men held comparable roles in Samaritan society. So the woman who met Jesus at the well is careful to preserve their authority even in her enthusiasm. By speaking with hesitancy she implicitly invites the men of her village to check out for themselves and to draw their own conclusions. In bald terms, she knows how to get her way in a man’s world.

Knapp’s point about the author’s framing of the woman’s question in verse 29 with me seems to have a basis in the author’s usage elsewhere in the Gospel. Whether Knapp has correctly identified the reason or even a reason for the author’s choice is open to debate. I find Knapp’s conclusion both plausible and attractive, especially in light of the mention of Jesus’ disciples’ shock that he was talking to a woman (4:27).

When we come to draw our own water from the wells of the Gospels we bring our own buckets and those buckets are never completely empty. Part of what we find is what we already are and know. One of the pleasures of going to a church potluck is sampling the dishes that others have brought. One of the pleasures of reading together a text like John is sampling the contents in the buckets of others who have dipped into the well of words and meanings. Go ahead and read the commentaries. But don’t be afraid to listen to the insights of others who bring their life experience with them when they come to the text.

EMAIL THIS ARTICLE