What do you see? by Chris Lockley 8th March 2026

A few months ago, I showed this photo to a friend. She leaned in close – the photo was on my phone screen – squinted her eyes, and asked: “What am I looking at”? Does anyone else have that reaction? After getting over my initial sense of being artistically offended, I recognised it was a small screen and my friend had ageing eyes, and it IS one of my more abstract images. So, I described the photo instead of asking what I should have: “What do you see?”  

SO, I’LL ASK THAT QUESTION NOW: WHAT DO YOU SEE? – (Its geometric patterns in the sand left by the retreating waves at low tide. It was taken from the lookout at the southern end of Shelley Beach in Ballina, looking straight down.) That of course is the BIG picture. But what details are we looking at? There are things like light, shadow, luminance, contrast, a hint of movement, shapes and lines. 

Because my friend asked me, “What am I looking at”, I now try to remember to ask myself that question before I take any photo – what big picture am I looking at? And what details am I looking at? The beauty of that question is that it invites me to pause, step back and consider what I’m seeing. So, I’m grateful for the question.

It’s a question that is also useful when we come to read a passage of scripture. It’s easy to read the Bible on autopilot … especially when it is a well-known story like today’s. We’ve heard it many times and probably heard many sermons about it. And some of those interpretations may be based on centuries old assumptions that actually don’t stand up to scrutiny. Or relatively recent assumptions that are disconnected from the original culture of the story. We may presume things that miss the significant details.

So, what are we looking at here in terms of the BIG picture.  

The first thing we need to note is how the gospel of John is written. John uses a great deal of symbolic language, such as metaphor, to tell his stories and structure the whole book, in ways the other gospel writers don’t. His timeline is also different. That doesn’t necessarily mean the events didn’t happen … but that in retelling them John uses symbolic language. 

It’s helpful to see and consider this story alongside last week’s story of Nicodemus in chapter 3, which uses metaphors of darkness, birth, water, spirit and wind.  

As Desiree reminded us in her beautiful sermon last week, we see a good man, a learned man, a respected teacher, going to Jesus in the night, not yet understanding – fixed in a literal mindset when Jesus is speaking symbolically. The learned, respected man is figuratively in the dark. He doesn’t get it. He remains puzzled. 

In today’s story we find the symbols and metaphors of an Old Testament well, gushing water, seeing, mountains and, again, Spirit. It is Jesus who approaches the Samaritan woman, in full daylight, offering metaphorical living water – she questions, listens and understands! She gets it! Not only that, she raises spiritual questions.

At this point it’s helpful to understand how the big picture affects the way we look at the details:  in particular how the Samaritan woman has been traditionally seen and portrayed. 

Based on spurious interpretations she is usually presented as sexually immoral. One popular American preacher described her as “a worldly, sensually-minded, unspiritual whore from Samaria.” And it’s all based on verse 18, when Jesus said to her: “You have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband”. And that’s it. A superficial reading of that sentence has branded her.  

There is a long history of misogyny behind the ways women in the Bible have been misrepresented over the centuries. A lot of it began in the 4th and 5th centuries when St. Augustine projected his guilt over his earlier sexual encounters onto women. Women, in general, became the source of sin, the temptresses, and any woman described in the Bible as ‘sinful’ was assumed to be sexually immoral. 

To this has been added the assumption that because the Samaritan woman was at the well at midday, when all the other women supposedly went to the well early in the day, she was ostracised … treated with contempt by the other villagers because of her sins. No-one seems to consider: maybe she just ran out of water, like we sometimes run out of something and have to make an inconvenient trip to Coles. 

The BIG picture we are looking at is in the symbolism: John is comparing Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman – he goes at night, in darkness – so she goes to the well, not just in the day, but at midday, at the height of the light. 

This misrepresentation of the Samaritan woman stands in sharp contrast to the rest of the story. Neither John as narrator nor Jesus treat her that way. Jesus at no point speaks of her sin or invites her repentance, as he does of others elsewhere in the gospels. 

She could very easily have been widowed or abandoned or divorced many times for little reason – a victim of negligent men or dud husbands. It happens. Five times would be heartbreaking, but not impossible. 

Further, she could now be living with someone she was dependent on. If she was childless and widowed, according to Leviticus, she could be married off to her deceased husband’s brother … but not necessarily considered his real wife: his role more protector than husband. There are any number of ways that this woman’s story could be seen as tragic rather than scandalous. Yet historically, most interpreters assume the worst of her. 

The rest of the story offers a different view. Immediately after Jesus describes her past, she says, “I see that you are a prophet”. “Seeing” in John is symbolic of belief. For John, this is like a confession of faith.  

She then introduces a theological topic. She is far from ‘unspiritual’. She asks about worship Later, when she returns to her village – as the first recorded missionary – her fellow Samaritans are receptive to her message. They would hardly listen to her so openly if she was an immoral outcast.

All this leads us to a further question: not only WHAT am I seeing, but also WHO am I seeing. 

There are people spending big money and giving lots of time trying to make us afraid of those who are different. To hate those who are different. All for their own agenda: make people afraid of Muslims or black people; suspicious of Jews; distrustful of the other side of politics; dismissive of different religions; seeing “others” as the enemy; drawing a line between “them” and “us”. 

Jews and Samaritans had centuries of suspicion and animosity behind them when this story took place. Every Jew knew, like one of our politicians has said, that there is no such thing as a “good” … Samaritan. (Of course, we know differently.) 

This conversation transcends that animosity. Jesus and the woman don’t ignore their differences, but look past them to truly see each other, without fear or suspicion. This is the longest conversation Jesus is recorded as having in the gospels, which points to its prominence. It’s a respectful conversation, full of curiosity. They explore their differences as Jew and Samaritan and search for common meeting points: living water, welling up within; and worship in spirit, above place.  

Jesus sees her as a truth seeker. She sees him as someone who is at One with God.

Whenever we label someone for social, racial, political, religious or gender reasons, we dehumanise them. Objectify them. It becomes easier to call someone a name, to dismiss or ignore them, or make jokes about them. It’s easier to be cruel to them. Or misrepresent them.  

This story invites us to see past differences to recognise our connectedness to others. And to be open to what they may offer us.

I wish I could show you another photo. An old friend posted it on Facebook. He, his brother and sister-in-law are smiling, having a lovely time, and enjoying tasty, aromatic, exotic food at a community night market. They were in a Sydney suburb that same politician recently said we should be afraid of – Lakemba. The markets were selling food for the evening meal after the Muslim fast for Ramadan. Muslim and non-Muslim Australians mingled, enjoyed food, and smiled at each other. No animosity. No fear. Even friendliness. One community. 

So, we have a question that offers the seeds of understanding. Maybe even the beginnings of healing, love and transformation. The question we can all ask: “Who am I seeing”?