Passing the Flame

There's something deeply human about asking someone, "Hey, you okay?" We do it all the time. A friend goes through a breakup, a colleague seems stressed, a family member faces difficulty. We check in. We express concern. We offer prayers and thoughts.

But what if there's something more we're called to do? What if the world doesn't just need our sympathy, but our story—the story of what Jesus has done and continues to do?

The Intentional Journey
In John chapter 4, we encounter one of the most remarkable conversations in Scripture. Jesus, tired and thirsty from traveling, sits by a well in Samaria around noon. The text tells us He "had to go through Samaria," but this wasn't about geography. There were other routes available. Most Jewish travelers took them specifically to avoid Samaria because of deep-seated racial and religious tensions between Jews and Samaritans.

But Jesus had an assignment. He wasn't afraid to go where others refused to go. He didn't worry about being guilty by association or what people might think. He had someone to meet, and nothing would deter Him from that divine appointment.

This teaches us something profound: being intentional about sharing Jesus means going where we're needed, not just where we're comfortable.

The Woman Nobody Expected
When a Samaritan woman approaches the well at the hottest part of the day, it's already unusual. Women typically came early in the morning when it was cooler. But this woman had reasons to avoid the morning crowd—she had a reputation. Five previous marriages and currently living with a man who wasn't her husband meant facing gossip, judgment, and whispered conversations.

So she came at noon, when she thought she'd be alone.
Instead, she found Jesus.

And His first word to her? "Please."
Please give me a drink.

In a world that had shown her no respect, the Son of God showed her dignity. He didn't lead with condemnation. He didn't reference her past. He simply asked for help, treating her as someone valuable, someone worthy of respect.

The gospel becomes personal when we recognize that everyone—regardless of their past—has inherent worth.

Making the Good News Personal
The woman is understandably confused. Why would a Jewish man speak to a Samaritan woman? But Jesus doesn't get defensive. Instead, He says something that changes everything: "If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me and I would give you living water."

God has a gift. For you. Specifically for you.

How long had it been since this woman heard that God had anything for her besides judgment? How many times had she convinced herself that she'd gone too far, messed up too badly, burned too many bridges?

Yet here was someone telling her that God had a gift waiting—something better than anything the world could offer.

This is the heart of the gospel. It's not just good news in general; it's good news for each person specifically. Jesus doesn't deal in mass-produced salvation. He meets people right where they are and offers them exactly what they need.

The Deflection We All Do
As the conversation continues, Jesus touches a nerve. "Go and get your husband," He says.
"I don't have a husband," she responds, likely with defenses raised.

Jesus gently but clearly addresses her reality: "You're right—you've had five husbands, and you aren't even married to the man you're living with now."

And here's where something fascinating happens. The woman immediately pivots to a theological debate: "So tell me, why do you Jews insist Jerusalem is the only place of worship while we Samaritans claim it's Mount Gerizim?"

Sound familiar? When conversations get too personal, too close to our real issues, we deflect. We argue about worship styles, creation timelines, denominational differences—anything to avoid talking about Jesus Himself and what He wants to do in our lives.

But Jesus doesn't take the bait. He brings the conversation back to what matters: "True worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth."

Jesus is foundational. Everything else is secondary.

The First Revelation
Then comes the moment. The woman says, "I know the Messiah is coming. When He arrives, He'll explain everything."

And Jesus responds with words He'd never spoken to anyone else up to this point: "I am the Messiah."

Think about that. The first time Jesus explicitly revealed His identity wasn't to religious leaders, temple workers, or even His disciples. It was to an unnamed woman with a complicated past, from a despised region, at a well in the middle of nowhere.

This was intentional.

Her life mattered. Her story mattered. And Jesus wanted her to know that God's gift was for her.

The Imperfect Messenger
What happens next is beautiful and encouraging. The woman runs back to her village and tells everyone, "Come see a man who told me everything I ever did!"

Except He didn't tell her everything she'd ever done. He mentioned a few things. But in that moment of revelation, it felt like He knew everything—and that was enough.

She got the details a bit wrong, but God worked through her imperfect message. Many Samaritans believed because of her testimony, and even more believed after meeting Jesus themselves.

This should encourage all of us who feel unqualified to share our faith. You don't need perfect theology or flawless delivery. You just need to share your experience of who Jesus is and what He's done. God will handle the rest.

The Invitation
The world around us is full of people who feel disqualified, written off, too far gone. They're avoiding the morning crowd, coming to the well at noon, convinced that God has nothing for them but judgment.

But what if we were intentional about meeting them there? What if we made the good news personal, showing them that Jesus is foundational to everything they're searching for?

It starts with three prayers:
Jesus, help me be intentional when it comes to talking about You.
Jesus, help me make Your good news personal.
Jesus, help me show that You are foundational.

These aren't prayers for people who want to stay on the sidelines. These are prayers for those who recognize that the flame they've been given isn't meant to be hidden but multiplied and shared.

The woman at the well received a gift she never knew was waiting. And because she said yes to Jesus—imperfectly, messily, but genuinely—an entire village encountered the Savior.
Who in your life is waiting for their own encounter with Jesus? Who needs to hear that God has a gift specifically for them?

The invitation stands: Be intentional. Make it personal. Show that Jesus is foundational.
And watch what God does with your imperfect yes.