Come and See
Edited directly from the sermon transcript of Matthew Miller’s message at Highland Hills Church of Christ on September 13, 2026. Adapted for length and readability while preserving his voice and message.
The Samaritan woman came to the well for the most ordinary of things: water, a basic human necessity. It was routine. But she encountered something far greater than she expected.
John 4 gives us an invitation. When something good happens in our lives, we feel gratitude and want to invite others into the experience. That is what happens when this woman encounters Jesus. She goes back and says, “Come and see.”
What happens when we come to Jesus and discover who he truly is?
Our culture has all kinds of pictures of Jesus: the condemning Jesus with lowered eyebrows and a pointing finger, or the buddy Jesus sitting back in shades and giving a thumbs-up. Sometimes, when we ask what Jesus would do, we imagine he would do exactly what we would do.
Our picture of him may need to be challenged. No matter how long we have followed him, every time we think we have him figured out, he does something surprising that changes us for good.
When we enter Jesus’s presence, we discover that he already knows us. He welcomes us because he wants to offer himself as the Savior of the world.
The woman at the well receives a welcome she doesn’t expect. There is a complex history of division and prejudice between Jews and Samaritans. Yet here is a Jewish rabbi speaking to her.
Jesus asks her for a drink, then offers her living water. She thinks about a better water source, but he takes the conversation much deeper: “Whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst.” It will become a fountain springing up into everlasting life.
Think about the time you were most physically thirsty. Maybe it was a long hike, a hot workday, or the moment you realized you had forgotten to drink water all day. Everything in your body craves it.
Now think at the deepest level of your soul about never thirsting. Jesus offers something ultimately satisfying, something that leads to eternal life.
He also knows things about this woman’s life she has never told him. She goes back to the city and tells people about this man who has told her all that she has done. “Could this be the Christ?”
They leave the city and come to him. They don’t yet know what they will discover. They respond to her invitation.
Faith may begin with curiosity. Perhaps you have friends or coworkers who are Christians, and you decide to listen or investigate further. Wherever you are, you don’t have to pretend to be somewhere you’re not.
Whether you’re committed, struggling, skeptical, searching, carrying questions, or returning after years away, the invitation remains. Jesus sees you, knows you, and still wants you to come.
Let’s be honest. If everything in our hearts and minds could suddenly appear as a hologram for everyone to see, we might not respond to each other with, “Come over and let’s get close.” We might say, “I’m going to stay away from you,” and you would say the same about me.
Jesus sees all that and more. Still, he says to come.
My kids were talking about Santa knowing when children are awake and whether they’ve behaved. Then they asked, “Does he see you in the shower?” How do you answer that question?
Being completely known can sound frightening. But Jesus’s knowledge becomes a source of comfort and transformation. Knowing the woman leads him toward her, not away from her.
I once read about a Christian minister invited to an interfaith conference. People were discussing different ways to reach God or enlightenment, like climbing a mountain to its summit through enough good deeds.
He asked, “What if the God at the summit actually came down to where we are?” They said that would be amazing. “Let me tell you about Jesus.”
Jesus comes to a broken and hurting world, and he comes to individuals who have been overlooked. You may wonder, “If people really knew me, would they want me here?” The gospel goes deeper: Jesus already knows what you’re proud of, ashamed of, and have never told another soul. Still, he invites you.
Back at the well, the disciples urge Jesus to eat. He tells them he has food they don’t know about. They wonder whether someone has brought him a meal.
I take comfort when the disciples completely misunderstand Jesus. We all have those moments.
He tells them, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me, and to finish his work.” He calls them to lift their eyes and see fields ready for harvest.
Many Samaritans initially believe because of the woman’s testimony. They ask Jesus to stay, and he remains for two days. More people believe because they hear him themselves.
Then they tell the woman, “Now we believe, not because of what you said, for we ourselves have heard him and we know that this is indeed the Christ, the Savior of the world.”
That is the turning point of the story. Her testimony matters. Without her invitation, they would not have come. But their faith must become their own.
We can lean on each other’s faith in hardship. We can be introduced to faith through people we love. Others can plant seeds in our lives. Eventually, we need to hear Jesus for ourselves.
People can spend years around Christianity and Christian things without encountering the Christ behind it. We can inherit a church, a Bible, beliefs, or family traditions. Have we allowed his words to confront us? Have we opened our hearts to his grace and entrusted ourselves to his care?
The Samaritans began with curiosity and ended with a confession: he is the Savior of the world.
Wherever you are in your faith journey, you need a Savior. If you’ve followed Christ for forty years, you still need him. If you’re trying to force your way through life by your own will and power, those abilities have limits. We are broken by sin and cannot repair ourselves.
Jesus can rescue the religious and irreligious, the skeptic and seeker, the successful and the person who feels they have never taken a step forward. He is the Savior of the world.
He is pursuing you. He wants you to stop, listen, and open your hands: “I’m willing to embrace you because I can’t do this on my own anymore.”
Come and see the one who knows you, speaks truth to you, and offers living water. The one who gives hope, forgiveness, and newness.
Seek Jesus. Come and see him. Will you respond to that invitation?
