John 14:1-6; Rollie Adkins Funeral Sermon; May 18, 2026

Rollie Adkins Funeral Sermon

John 14:1–6

May 18, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church, Grand Marais, MN

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:1–6, ESV)

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Jesus said: “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in Me. In My Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?”

I did not know Rollie as many of you did. You knew his life, his work, his stories, his strengths, and his struggles far better than I ever could. But there is one thing I do know about Rollie with absolute certainty, because it is true of every person gathered here today: Rollie was a sinner.

And I am not speaking ill of the dead. I would say the very same thing about myself and every one of you. Scripture says, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

And the proof is here before us today. “The wages of sin is death.” Death itself stands before us as proof that God’s Word is true. This is why hearts are troubled at funerals. This is why death grieves us so deeply. We know instinctively that death is not how things are supposed to be. Death is an enemy.

And yet, this is exactly why the words of Jesus matter so much today. “Let not your hearts be troubled.” Notice Jesus does not say death is not real. He does not say grief is imaginary. He does not tell His disciples to ignore sorrow. No, these words are spoken on the night before His own death. Jesus Himself is walking toward the cross. He knows suffering. He knows tears. He knows death. And yet He says: “Believe in God; believe also in Me.”

Rollie spent much of his life working, planning, building, and providing. You can read it in the obituary. Hard work from a young age. Physical labor. Engineering. Business. Investing. Building a life. Building a home. Finally settling here in the north woods that he loved.

And more importantly, building a family whom he loved deeply. Today, you feel that loss most deeply, Mary, Chris, Allison, Kevin, Cole, and all the rest of Rollie’s family and friends who mourn him today. And we feel it with you.

Death leaves behind a growing emptiness. An empty chair at the table. A quiet room that once carried his voice. Conversations that now live only in memory. An empty cabin by the lake waiting for someone who will not walk through its door again. And that grief is real.

But Jesus reminds us today that every earthly home is temporary. Paul says in 2 Corinthians that this earthly life is a tent. Temporary. Fragile. Passing away. And we know that is true. Homes decay. Bodies weaken. Strength fades. Wealth disappears. Eventually every earthly thing slips through our fingers.

But Jesus speaks of another home. “In My Father’s house are many rooms.” The old King James says “many mansions.” But the Greek word really means dwelling places. Abiding places. Permanent homes. Not temporary tents. Permanent dwellings.

And the center of that home is not golden streets or heavenly luxury. The center is Christ Himself. Listen again to what Jesus says: “I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also.” That is the comfort of the Christian faith. Not merely that believers go somewhere after death. But that Christ receives them to Himself.

Paul says: “To be away from the body [is] to be at home with the Lord.” The Christian dead are not lost. Not abandoned. Not forgotten. They belong to Christ.

And notice something else. Jesus says: “I go to prepare a place for you.” How does He prepare that place? Through His cross. Through His suffering. Through His death. Through His resurrection.

The comfort of today is not that Rollie was good enough. The comfort is not that he worked hard enough, or succeeded enough, or deserved enough. The comfort is that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. Jesus prepares the Father’s house by dying for sinners and rising again. That means the Christian hope rests entirely on Him. Entirely on Christ.

And there is even more here. Many people think Christianity teaches only this: you die and go to heaven. But the promise is even greater than that. Yes, those who die in Christ are with Him now. But the final Christian hope is not disembodied spirits floating somewhere far away. The final hope is the resurrection of the body.

Isaiah says: “He will swallow up death forever.” And that is exactly what Christ will do. The day is coming when Christ Himself will return. The dead will be raised. Creation itself will be renewed. New heavens and a new earth. No more death. No more graves. No more funerals. “This body in the grave we lay there to await that solemn day.” The dwelling Christ prepares reaches its fullness in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.

And so Jesus says finally: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” Jesus does not merely teach the way. He is the Way. He is the narrow gate. He is the resurrection and the life.

And so this funeral is not only about Rollie. It is also for you. For your faith. For your repentance. For your hope. Because every person gathered here faces the same reality. The wages of sin is death.

But Christ has died. Christ is risen. And Christ will come again.

And therefore, for those who belong to Him, death does not have the final word.

So today we grieve. But not without hope. Because Christ has prepared a place for His people. And where He is, there His faithful shall be also. Amen.

The peace of God that passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

John 9; The Fourth Sunday in Lent — March 22, 2026

The Light of the World

John 9
The Fourth Sunday in Lent — March 22, 2020
Life in Christ Lutheran Church — Grand Marais, Minnesota

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Since our text is an entire chapter, we will walk through it together and make a few comments along the way.

“As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth.”

Jesus sees people in need, and He acts.

After all, He came in human flesh to suffer and die on the cross for your need. He sees your need for forgiveness and does something about it.

The disciples ask what seems like the obvious question:

“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

The assumption is clear: someone must be getting punished.

Think of Job’s friends.

But Jesus redirects the conversation. He speaks not about blame, but about purpose.

“It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.”

That is important.

Our lives are not ultimately about our own purposes, but God’s. This man’s blindness becomes the occasion for God to reveal exactly who Jesus is.

Then Jesus says:

“I am the light of the world.”

Jesus does not merely give physical sight. He gives spiritual light. He opens blind eyes so people may truly see Him.

John has already introduced this theme at the beginning of the Gospel:

“The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.”

John 1:9, ESV

There is a conflict throughout John’s Gospel between light and darkness, faith and unbelief. And that conflict becomes sharper throughout this chapter.

Jesus spits on the ground, makes mud, places it on the man’s eyes, and tells him to wash in the Pool of Siloam.

Notice how earthly and physical this all is.

God does not deal with us merely through ideas floating around inside us. He works through external means.

Through mud, water, and His Word, Jesus heals the man.

And God still works that way.

He used the ordinary human body of Jesus hanging on the cross to bring salvation into the world. And He still delivers forgiveness through ordinary means: water, bread, wine, and His Word.

The neighbors are confused.

“Is this not the man who used to sit and beg?”

Some say yes. Others say no. Blind men do not simply begin seeing every day.

Then the Pharisees enter the scene, and division begins.

Jesus healed on the Sabbath. According to their man-made rules, this means Jesus cannot be from God.

But others ask an obvious question:

“How can a man who is a sinner do such signs?”

That is always the central question with Jesus:

Who is He?

The healed man says simply:

“He is a prophet.”

The Pharisees refuse to believe. So they bring in the man’s parents.

The parents confirm this is indeed their son and that he truly was born blind. But they are afraid.

Anyone confessing Jesus as the Christ would be cast out of the synagogue.

And so the questioning returns to the healed man.

The Pharisees become openly hostile.

“We know that this man is a sinner.”

But the man answers with one of the clearest confessions in all Scripture:

“One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”

The Pharisees cannot tolerate this testimony. They revile him and finally cast him out of the synagogue.

They remove him from the church—not out of love, but hatred.

But then something beautiful happens.

Jesus finds the man.

“Do you believe in the Son of Man?”

The man asks:

“And who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?”

Jesus answers:

“You have seen him, and it is he who is speaking to you.”

Then comes the confession of faith:

“Lord, I believe.”

And he worships Jesus.

St. Paul writes:

“Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.”

Romans 10:17, ESV

The man now sees spiritually as well as physically. Jesus has brought him into the light.

Then Jesus says something sobering:

“For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.”

This chapter shows us something important:

Whenever Jesus comes, there is division.

God’s Word divides.

Sinful people—including us—do not like God’s judgment against sin. We want to excuse it, hide it, minimize it.

But Jesus is not from the world. He is from God.

And He came to confront darkness.

Jesus says:

“For judgment I came into this world.”

But elsewhere He also says:

“I did not come to judge the world but to save the world.”

John 12:47, ESV

And both are true at the cross.

At Good Friday, Jesus takes the world’s darkness onto Himself. He becomes the sin of the world. He suffers under Pontius Pilate, is crucified, dies, and is buried.

Sin is judged in His death.

But then comes Easter.

God raises Jesus from the dead.

He walks, speaks, and eats with His disciples. He proves that sin, death, and darkness are defeated.

He proves that He truly is the One sent from God—the Light of the world.

Amen.

The peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

John 13:1–17, 31b–35; Maundy Thursday — April 2, 2026

Unless I Wash You

John 13:1–17, 31b–35
Maundy Thursday — April 2, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church — Grand Marais, Minnesota

“Having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end.”

John 13:1, ESV

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Jesus knew that His hour had come… having loved His own… He loved them to the end.

Jesus knows everything that is happening here. Nothing is hidden from Him. He knows Judas. He knows Peter. And most importantly, He knows the cross.

He has every reason to reject all of it.

But the text says:

“Having loved His own… He loved them to the end.”

His love is perfect. It is not based on worthiness. It is not based on loyalty. It is not based on potential.

These disciples are full of weakness and failure. Judas will betray Him. Peter will deny Him. The others will flee.

And still He loves them.

His love moves Him toward betrayal, suffering, and death.

Then comes one of the most astonishing moments in all of Scripture.

Jesus rises from supper, takes a towel, kneels down, and begins washing the disciples’ feet.

It makes no sense.

The Teacher should not be washing feet. They should be washing His.

But Jesus turns everything upside down.

The Master becomes the servant.

He kneels before them.

He stoops down into their filth.

This is more than humility.

This is an exchange.

Jesus is not merely giving a moral example. He is showing what the cross means.

He will stoop lower still.

He will take upon Himself the filth of the world’s sin.

He will serve them by giving everything.

Peter reacts strongly:

“You shall never wash my feet.”

Peter resists being served.

That is the real issue.

Peter does not want to be helpless. He does not want grace. He does not want to receive what he cannot earn.

And neither do we.

Our sinful nature always wants control. We want to contribute something. We want to believe we can help save ourselves.

But Jesus pushes directly against all of that.

“I am serving you. You have nothing to add. I am doing it all.”

Then Jesus says something absolute:

“If I do not wash you, you have no share with Me.”

That cuts against everything we naturally believe about ourselves.

No washing.

No service from Jesus.

No part in Christ.

Jesus is not really talking about feet.

He is talking about salvation.

Without being served by Jesus, there is no forgiveness.

Then Jesus says:

“The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet…”

Jesus does not save you once and then leave you alone.

The bathing He speaks about is Holy Baptism. Through Baptism and faith, you are washed completely.

This washing is not merely physical.

Dirt is removed outwardly.

Sin is removed spiritually.

Jesus says:

“You belong to Me. You are clean.”

But while you live in this world, you still need continual cleansing.

You still sin.

You still carry dirt.

You still need Christ to serve you.

You cannot maintain your own spiritual condition. You cannot try harder and cleanse yourself.

And so Jesus continues serving you.

When He washes the disciples’ feet, He is pointing toward the cross and toward His Supper.

The Lord’s Supper is not you recommitting yourself to Jesus.

It is Jesus continually serving you.

It is Christ washing you again and again with forgiveness.

You do not come to the altar trying to become clean.

You come because Christ keeps you clean.

Then comes the warning:

“Not all of you are clean…”

Judas is still there.

Betrayal is sitting at the table.

Evil is present among them.

And still Jesus gives.

The Supper is not for the worthy.

It is for sinners.

If sinners did not need forgiveness, there would be no reason for the meal at all.

Then Jesus says:

“Now is the Son of Man glorified…”

And again He is speaking about the cross.

But Jesus defines glory differently than the world does.

His glory is not worldly triumph or political power.

His glory is serving sinners through suffering and death.

The disciples—and we ourselves—see the glory of Christ most clearly when He is betrayed, handed over, crucified, and dying for the world.

Then Jesus gives the new commandment:

“Love one another…”

But this is not a command to earn salvation.

You love because Jesus first loved you.

You serve because you have first been served.

That is Christian love.

Just as Jesus stooped down to wash feet, just as He served the world by giving His life, so Christians live lives of sacrificial service toward one another.

And even now, Jesus continues serving you.

Through the preached Word.

Through Holy Baptism.

Through His body and blood.

He knows your sin.

And still He kneels.

Still He serves.

Still He gives Himself.

On the night He was betrayed, Jesus did not ask for your service.

He gave you His.

Unless He serves you, you have no part in Him.

And tonight, He does.

Amen.

The peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Matthew 26:1–27:66; Palm Sunday / Sunday of the Passion — March 29, 2026

The King Who Comes to Die

Matthew 26:1–27:66
Palm Sunday / Sunday of the Passion — March 29, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church — Grand Marais, Minnesota

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

The crowd that had gathered shouted:

Hosanna to the Son of David!

Hosanna is a Hebrew word. It means Save us now! It is a cry directed to God Himself. Save us!

And when they say Son of David, they mean something very specific. It means the promised Messiah. The true King. The One who would restore the kingdom of Israel. The One who would defeat all enemies. The One who would bring salvation.

They are not wrong.

Jesus is the King. He is the true King of the Jews. He is the Son of David. He does come to save.

And yet they misunderstand how He would save.

They expected political victory. They expected earthly power. They expected an immediate triumph over Rome.

What they did not expect was the cross.

Matthew makes Jesus’ purpose explicit:

“This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet…”

Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey. This is not accidental. Jesus deliberately fulfills the Scriptures. He arranges everything according to the prophecy of Zechariah:

“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

Zechariah 9:9, ESV

He comes bringing peace.

He comes lowly.

It is a donkey, not a war horse.

Unlike the conquering kings people expected, Jesus does not come to take life. He comes to give His life.

Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a road that leads only to one place.

The same crowds that shout Hosanna will soon cry out:

Crucify Him!

But Jesus does not change course.

Nothing surprises Him. Nothing alters the plan.

What changes is the crowd.

The palm branches lead only to the cross, and Jesus walks that road willingly.

He takes the palm-strewn road to Golgotha on purpose.

St. Paul writes in Philippians:

“He humbled himself… to the point of death, even death on a cross.”

Jesus turns kingship upside down.

He does not grasp for power.

He does not defend Himself.

He does not avoid suffering.

Everything the people expected is overturned.

He empties Himself.

He humbles Himself.

He obeys the Father.

And most shocking of all:

He dies.

None of this is accidental.

Everything happens with divine purpose.

This is the plan for the salvation of the world.

And why?

Because this is how salvation is won.

This is how sin is dealt with.

This is how death is defeated.

This is how Satan is crushed.

What begins with palm branches ends with a single word:

Tetelestai.

It is finished.

Palm Sunday is the beginning of the end.

The King enters the holy city to complete His work.

And when that work is finished:

Sin is paid for.

God’s wrath is satisfied.

Salvation is accomplished.

Jesus does not come merely to attempt salvation.

He comes to finish it.

Today we join the crowd and cry out:

Hosanna! Save us now!

But unlike the crowds of Jerusalem, we know what those words truly mean.

The true King has come.

His throne is the cross.

There He takes your place.

He does not rule by earthly power.

He rules through sacrificial love.

He shows His love for you, for me, and for the whole world by willingly giving His life.

He comes to save through His death.

The week that begins with:

Hosanna!

will end with:

Tetelestai.

It is finished.

Amen.

The peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Matthew 27:45–46; Lent 4 Weekday Service — March 18, 2026

The Terrible Exchange

Matthew 27:45–46
Lent 4 Weekday Service — March 18, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church — Grand Marais, Minnesota

“Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land until the ninth hour. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’”

Matthew 27:45–46, ESV

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Last week in Isaiah we saw something astonishing:

The Lord laid on Him the iniquity of us all.

Jesus Christ carried our sin.

We know those words well, but we often fail to stop and consider what they truly mean. All our sins were laid upon Jesus, and He suffered our death on the cross.

But that raises an important question:

If Jesus truly bears our sin, what does that mean for Him?

Matthew tells us:

“Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land until the ninth hour.”

The sun goes dark.

Creation itself reacts to the suffering of its Savior.

This is more than sadness. Throughout Scripture, darkness is a sign of judgment. The hour of judgment has come.

And it is in that darkness that Jesus cries out:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Jesus is quoting Psalm 22.

But this is not merely a quotation. It is His real experience of abandonment.

From all eternity the Son has lived in perfect communion with the Father. But now, hanging on the cross, Jesus stands in the place of sinners.

He bears the sin of the whole world.

And because He bears sin, He must also bear sin’s consequence.

Jesus experiences separation.

He hangs where we should hang.

He endures the judgment we deserve.

The judgment of all humanity, across all times and places, falls upon Him.

We often call this the Great Exchange.

But in another sense, it is the Terrible Exchange.

Jesus takes our sin.

He takes our guilt.

He takes our punishment.

He takes our abandonment.

And in exchange, we receive forgiveness, peace, and reconciliation with God.

This is the deepest mystery of the cross.

And Christians can never move beyond it.

The cross is not merely one doctrine among many. It is everything.

Without the cross and Jesus suffering there, Christianity is nothing more than moral advice. Jesus becomes merely a teacher of ethics.

But good morals cannot save.

Good behavior cannot reconcile sinners to God.

Only the suffering and death of Jesus Christ can do that.

And notice something remarkable in Jesus’ cry.

Even in abandonment He still says:

“My God…”

This is not a curse.

It is trust.

Complete trust in the Father.

Jesus entrusts Himself fully to the Father’s saving plan, even through darkness, pain, nails, suffering, and death.

He endures rejection so that we never will.

And now this becomes very personal.

Last week I said:

“When you look at the cross, you should see yourself there.”

But the truth is:

You are not there.

Jesus is there for you.

He is forsaken in your place.

This is where the biblical phrase for you reaches its deepest meaning.

Jesus suffers what you should suffer and now never will.

The darkness of the cross is the very place where your salvation was won.

That is the “for you” of God.

Because Christ endured abandonment for you, God will never abandon you.

Amen.

The peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Isaiah 53:4–6; Lent 3 Weekday Service — March 11, 2026

The Weight He Carried

Isaiah 53:4–6
Lent 3 Weekday Service — March 11, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church — Grand Marais, Minnesota

“Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows…”

Isaiah 53:4–6, ESV

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Last week we saw how the Law exposes our hearts. Nothing is hidden when the sword of the Law cuts us to the quick. Every thought, motive, and sin is laid bare before God.

Tonight we see what God does with that exposed sin.

We often think forgiveness is simple. C. S. Lewis once wrote:

“Everyone says forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something to forgive.”

When someone apologizes for an offense, we casually say, “That’s okay.” But forgiveness is never actually free. Every sin creates a debt. Someone must bear the cost.

Isaiah writes:

“Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.”

The Hebrew words here are important.

The word translated borne is נָשָׂא (nasa). It means to lift up and carry a burden. The Old Testament often uses it for carrying guilt or bearing sin.

The word translated carried is סָבַל (sabal). It means carrying a crushing load under heavy weight.

Isaiah paints a vivid picture. Jesus shoulders the crushing burden of our sin. He does not merely sympathize with sinners. He carries them.

Our sin is not light. It is crushing weight. And the cross reveals exactly what sin costs.

“He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities.”

The cross shows us the true burden of sin. Sin is not small. It cannot simply be dismissed with a quick “No problem.”

God shows us, through Jesus suffering and dying on the cross, that forgiveness requires payment. The cost of your sin and mine falls on Jesus.

Then Isaiah says something even stronger:

“The LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”

The Hebrew word translated laid on is פָּגַע (pagaʿ). It carries the idea of something crashing into someone or falling violently upon them.

Isaiah is describing a dramatic collision.

At the cross, all human sin is gathered together and crashes onto Christ. Our guilt falls on Him. The punishment we deserved becomes His burden to carry.

If you are ever tempted to minimize sin—and we all are—look at the cross.

We like to compare sins. My sins seem small. Other people’s sins seem large. But whenever we minimize sin, we also minimize the cross.

When you look at Jesus suffering and dying, you see how seriously God takes sin.

And when you look at the cross, you should recognize something astonishing:

You are not the one hanging there.

Jesus is.

“Upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace.”

Jesus receives the punishment. We receive peace.

Jesus carries guilt. We receive forgiveness.

This is the very heart of the Gospel: Jesus takes what is ours, and gives us what is His.

At my other job as a school bus driver, I once failed to clean out the bus after a long trip. It was something I should have done, but I neglected it.

The next driver had to spend extra time cleaning before his route. He confronted me. I apologized.

And then he said very clearly:

“I forgive you, in the name of Jesus.”

You cannot imagine the relief those words brought.

When he spoke those words, I knew not only that I was forgiven, but that he understood what forgiveness truly means.

When the Word of God exposes our sin through the Law, we may despair. The burden feels unbearable.

But Isaiah points us to the cross.

Look there and see the price paid for your sin.

The burden is no longer yours.

It is His.

At the cross Christ carries what we never could. The full weight of the world’s sin falls upon Him.

And through His wounds,

we are healed.

Amen.

The peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

John 4:5–26; The Third Sunday in Lent — March 8, 2026

Living Water for Thirsty People

John 4:5–26
The Third Sunday in Lent — March 8, 2026
Life in Christ Lutheran Church — Grand Marais, Minnesota

“Jesus said to her, ‘If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, “Give me a drink,” you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.’”

John 4:10, ESV

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

This sinful woman has an encounter with God. She has questions. He answers them. She has no illusions about who she is: a sinful, mortal person looking for the hope of eternal life through the coming Messiah.

It begins with Jesus asking for a drink of water.

Already she knows something is different. No Jewish rabbi would speak to a woman in public, let alone ask her to draw water for him. Jesus initiates the conversation. And the conversation is about who He is.

“If you knew who was speaking to you…”

But she does not understand yet. She sees only a tired Jewish rabbi sitting beside a well. She is there carrying out a daily, menial, never-ending task. Day after day she comes to the well, just as countless others had done before her, to fill jars with water and carry them home.

Jesus turns the conversation from earthly water to spiritual thirst.

“I have living water to give you. If you drink of my water, you will never be thirsty.”

After walking to the well carrying water jars, she certainly was thirsty. But Jesus is speaking about a deeper thirst: the thirst caused by sin.

She asks, “How can you give water? You have nothing to draw with, and the well is deep.”

Jesus answers that His water does not come from Jacob’s well.

“Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again.”

“That’s what I want,” she says. “Then I would not have to keep coming here every day.”

Jesus is about to drive the point home. He has opened her heart to listen. Now He will show her exactly who He is.

“Go, call your husband, and come here.”

Jesus knows exactly who she is and exactly what her situation is.

“I have no husband.”

“You are right. You have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband.”

Her life, her heart, her sin—all of it is an open book before Jesus. He opens the wound of her sin. He reveals the true nature of her thirst.

Now she sees more in Jesus than she did before.

“Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet.”

Jesus is drawing her in. He has revealed her thirst. Now He is about to reveal where forgiveness is found.

She continues, “I am a Samaritan.” She believes she is on the outside. So she brings up one of the great dividing lines between Jews and Samaritans: worship.

They stand near Mount Gerizim, the holy place of the Samaritans. The Jews worshiped at the temple in Jerusalem. Jesus makes both mountains secondary.

“Salvation is from the Jews.”

And later Jesus will say it even more plainly:

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

John 14:6, ESV

Jesus has laid it on the table. The woman is about to confess her faith.

“I know that Messiah is coming.”

There are two important issues with the reading as it is commonly heard.

First, the Gospel lesson often stops too early. We miss the woman’s reaction. Once she realizes who Jesus is, she cannot keep silent. She runs back into town announcing that she has found the Messiah.

Second, there is an issue with the translation.

The ESV reads:

“I who speak to you am he.”

John 4:26, ESV

Technically that is correct, but it misses something very important. A more literal rendering would be:

“I AM is the one speaking to you.”

The whole conversation has been about exactly who Jesus is.

He reveals her sin and points her to the salvation found in the Messiah. Then He speaks one of His great “I AM” statements.

The Greek is ἐγώ εἰμί — an emphatic “I AM.”

It is the language of the burning bush.

“God said to Moses, ‘I AM WHO I AM.’”

Exodus 3:14, ESV

Jesus is being explicit.

He is saying:

“I am God in the flesh. I am the Messiah. I am the One who has come to bring forgiveness.”

The woman’s reaction says everything. She leaves her water jar behind. Moments ago it seemed essential. Now it is almost meaningless compared to what she has received.

She has received living water.

She runs into town asking the central question of all Scripture:

“Is Jesus the Messiah?”

That is still the question today.

Do not be fooled by all the noise around you. There are endless voices trying to redefine Jesus. Popular culture denies the truth, reshapes God into our own image, and turns salvation into self-discovery.

But the truth is much simpler.

In this account we see exactly who Jesus is.

We see His humanity: tired, thirsty, sitting beside a well.

We see His divinity: using the divine name “I AM.”

We see His mission: bringing forgiveness to sinners.

The woman’s deepest problem was not merely sexual sin. Her deepest problem was her sinful nature. And so is ours.

“For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword…”

Hebrews 4:12–13, ESV

The Word exposes us. Our sin condemns us. By rights there should be no living water for us.

That is exactly why Jesus goes from Jacob’s well to the cross.

The sin laid bare by the Word—the thoughts, desires, and intentions of our hearts—is carried by Jesus.

The One who knew no sin became sin for us.

The living water He gives flows from His pierced side: blood and water poured out for the forgiveness of sins.

Forgiveness for the woman at the well.

Forgiveness for you.

The Bible, the Word of God, is an encounter with God in Jesus Christ. We bring our questions. God answers them.

Do not have illusions about who you are. You are a sinful mortal person looking for the Messiah to give eternal life.

And in His Word, Jesus gives exactly that.

He gives Himself.

His sacrifice.

His forgiveness.

His living water.

Amen.

The peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.