Sunday, March 8, 2026 – Lent 3
First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell
John 4:5-29
So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon.
A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) Jesus answered 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.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.”
Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband,’ for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming and is now here when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
Just then his disciples came. They were astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you want?” or, “Why are you speaking with her?” Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?”
I remember the first time I ever heard the phrase “sex shaming.” It was spoken by the young female associate minister at my previous church in Manhattan. I had made some off-the-cuff comment about someone, and she challenged that comment and then referred to it as sex-shaming. I didn’t know what she meant then, but I do now.
Sex shaming is exactly what it sounds like. It can be self-directed, as in judging yourself and your behaviors based on some external set of rules. Or more often, it is directed at others, and involves making judgments about how other people live their lives, based on our perceptions, our rules, our expectations.
We engage in sex shaming mostly, I think, because we are trying to deflect attention away from our own lives. We engage in sex shaming, I’m sure, because gossip is fun – especially if sex is involved. But whatever our motivations, it can be exceedingly damaging.
Many years ago, when I was in seminary, there was a young couple in the student body whom I had also known at college. And when we all were in college together, the word on the street was that this couple was rather wild. And people whispered salacious tales about their personal lives. I was one of those whisperers.
But now they were married and in seminary and preparing for a life of service. Still, one day I made the awful mistake of repeating one of those old salacious tales to some other seminary students. And right on cue, we all giggled like naughty children. But then feeling guilty, and so I swore them to secrecy.
But the secret didn’t keep. I know that because a few days later, when I saw this couple on campus and greeted them like the friends we had been, the look of sadness and betrayal on their faces haunts me to this day. I had sex shamed them. I had defined them based on nothing more than rumors and innuendos. And in the process, I destroyed a friendship.
I bring all of this up because the woman in the Gospel less today is likewise a victim of sex shaming. At least that’s what I’ve always heard about her. She is forever defined by her so-called sexual choices.
Jesus and his disciples had traveled to Samaria – that place where no self-respecting Jew would ever go on purpose. You see, Samaria was inhabited by Jewish people whose ancestors had intermarried with the invading Babylonians all those centuries before. And that made them collaborators and pagans and half-breeds. By the time of Jesus, Samaritans were so despised that most Jews, when traveling from Judea to Galilee, would walk an extra nine hours just to avoid setting one foot in that place.
But Jesus walked right into the middle of it. Think about that. Jesus went right into the middle of a place everyone else avoided; to people everyone else hated.
It was high noon and hot as blazes. And Jesus was tired from the journey and very thirsty. As luck would have it, he came upon Jacob’s well, that mythic place revered by both Jews and Samaritans, who counted Jacob as their common ancestor. But Jesus had no bucket and the well was deep.
All of a sudden, a lone Samaritan woman approached the well. When Jesus saw her, he asked her for a drink. But she was incredulous, as well she should have been, that a Jew and a man would even speak to her.
But he did speak to her. In fact, their conversation is the longest one ever recorded in all four Gospels. And the topics they discussed were wide-ranging. They talked about ethnic differences, and theology, and the purpose and meaning of life, and economic and social conditions. It was a very lively exchange. But no one ever preaches a sermon about that.
Instead, sermons might point out how odd it was for Jesus to speak to a woman at all. Jewish men simply did not speak to unrelated women. In fact, this prohibition was so strong that there were some Pharisees known as the “bruised and bleeding Pharisees” because they would shut their eyes when they saw a woman, even if it meant walking into a wall and breaking their noses.
Or, a sermon might point out the enmity between Samaritans and Jews, and why it was so deep and wide, and why these two people groups despised one another. And yet, there was Jesus bridging the gap.
But most of the sermons I’ve ever heard are, in some way or another, about this woman’s sexual life. They are about a woman who, supposedly, just went from one relationship to another. And so, in order to uncover her secret sin, Jesus tricked her by asking her to go get her husband so that they could drink together from his living waters.
But here’s the thing about this strong and intelligent woman. She was a straight shooter. “I have no husband,” she replied. To which Jesus said: “You’re right. You have had five husbands and the one you’re living with now, well, you’re not married to him.”
And then those sermons bring this point home: if Jesus could forgive a fallen woman like that, surely he could forgive me (even though I’m not nearly as bad as she is!).
But was she bad? Was she loose? Was she fallen?
Here’s the thing: having five husbands was not necessarily an indication that she was the Elizabeth Taylor of the ancient world. You see, in that time and place, multiple marriages were not uncommon, as husbands died in war and from illness or injury, leaving the woman to marry again if she didn’t want to starve to death. In addition to that, marriages could be annulled by male family members if a better financial offer came along. And then there’s this: the right to marry was restricted. For example: slave could not marry. Roman soldiers could not marry. A Roman citizen could not marry a non-citizen. So, the truth is we don’t know why this woman had all these husbands. And we have no idea why she was not married to the one she had now. But none of that has ever stopped us from sex shaming this nameless woman.
Except she has a name – at least in the traditions of Eastern Orthodox Christianity. She is called “Photine” or “Svetlana” meaning “the illuminated one.” For Orthodox Christians, the thing that defines her is not her so-called sin. What defines her is the role that she played during and after this conversation with Jesus. When it was all said and done, Photine ran back into town and announced to anyone who would listen: “Come and see the man who told me everything I have ever done.”
And that, Orthodox Christians say, is what makes Photine the first evangelist to proclaim that Jesus is the Messiah. And that, Orthodox Christians say, is why her name can also be translated as “equal to the apostles.” This so-called loose woman, this sex shamed character is on the same footing as those twelve men who knew Jesus best.
“Come and see the One who told me everything I’ve ever done.” “Come and see the one who spoke to me like an equal.” “Come and see the one who asked me my name.” “Come and see the one who really saw me… and loved me just the same.”
In that world, in that time, likely no man had ever seen Photine for who she really was. But Jesus did. And it caused in her a well of living water to bubble up to eternal life.
And just like her, when we are seen and accepted and loved, those same waters well up in us. And the dirt of our past is washed away. And the thirst for dignity is quenched. And we say with her: “Come and see the One who told me everything I have ever done, and loves me just the same.”
First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell
John 4:5-29
So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon.
A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) Jesus answered 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.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.”
Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband,’ for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming and is now here when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
Just then his disciples came. They were astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you want?” or, “Why are you speaking with her?” Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?”
I remember the first time I ever heard the phrase “sex shaming.” It was spoken by the young female associate minister at my previous church in Manhattan. I had made some off-the-cuff comment about someone, and she challenged that comment and then referred to it as sex-shaming. I didn’t know what she meant then, but I do now.
Sex shaming is exactly what it sounds like. It can be self-directed, as in judging yourself and your behaviors based on some external set of rules. Or more often, it is directed at others, and involves making judgments about how other people live their lives, based on our perceptions, our rules, our expectations.
We engage in sex shaming mostly, I think, because we are trying to deflect attention away from our own lives. We engage in sex shaming, I’m sure, because gossip is fun – especially if sex is involved. But whatever our motivations, it can be exceedingly damaging.
Many years ago, when I was in seminary, there was a young couple in the student body whom I had also known at college. And when we all were in college together, the word on the street was that this couple was rather wild. And people whispered salacious tales about their personal lives. I was one of those whisperers.
But now they were married and in seminary and preparing for a life of service. Still, one day I made the awful mistake of repeating one of those old salacious tales to some other seminary students. And right on cue, we all giggled like naughty children. But then feeling guilty, and so I swore them to secrecy.
But the secret didn’t keep. I know that because a few days later, when I saw this couple on campus and greeted them like the friends we had been, the look of sadness and betrayal on their faces haunts me to this day. I had sex shamed them. I had defined them based on nothing more than rumors and innuendos. And in the process, I destroyed a friendship.
I bring all of this up because the woman in the Gospel less today is likewise a victim of sex shaming. At least that’s what I’ve always heard about her. She is forever defined by her so-called sexual choices.
Jesus and his disciples had traveled to Samaria – that place where no self-respecting Jew would ever go on purpose. You see, Samaria was inhabited by Jewish people whose ancestors had intermarried with the invading Babylonians all those centuries before. And that made them collaborators and pagans and half-breeds. By the time of Jesus, Samaritans were so despised that most Jews, when traveling from Judea to Galilee, would walk an extra nine hours just to avoid setting one foot in that place.
But Jesus walked right into the middle of it. Think about that. Jesus went right into the middle of a place everyone else avoided; to people everyone else hated.
It was high noon and hot as blazes. And Jesus was tired from the journey and very thirsty. As luck would have it, he came upon Jacob’s well, that mythic place revered by both Jews and Samaritans, who counted Jacob as their common ancestor. But Jesus had no bucket and the well was deep.
All of a sudden, a lone Samaritan woman approached the well. When Jesus saw her, he asked her for a drink. But she was incredulous, as well she should have been, that a Jew and a man would even speak to her.
But he did speak to her. In fact, their conversation is the longest one ever recorded in all four Gospels. And the topics they discussed were wide-ranging. They talked about ethnic differences, and theology, and the purpose and meaning of life, and economic and social conditions. It was a very lively exchange. But no one ever preaches a sermon about that.
Instead, sermons might point out how odd it was for Jesus to speak to a woman at all. Jewish men simply did not speak to unrelated women. In fact, this prohibition was so strong that there were some Pharisees known as the “bruised and bleeding Pharisees” because they would shut their eyes when they saw a woman, even if it meant walking into a wall and breaking their noses.
Or, a sermon might point out the enmity between Samaritans and Jews, and why it was so deep and wide, and why these two people groups despised one another. And yet, there was Jesus bridging the gap.
But most of the sermons I’ve ever heard are, in some way or another, about this woman’s sexual life. They are about a woman who, supposedly, just went from one relationship to another. And so, in order to uncover her secret sin, Jesus tricked her by asking her to go get her husband so that they could drink together from his living waters.
But here’s the thing about this strong and intelligent woman. She was a straight shooter. “I have no husband,” she replied. To which Jesus said: “You’re right. You have had five husbands and the one you’re living with now, well, you’re not married to him.”
And then those sermons bring this point home: if Jesus could forgive a fallen woman like that, surely he could forgive me (even though I’m not nearly as bad as she is!).
But was she bad? Was she loose? Was she fallen?
Here’s the thing: having five husbands was not necessarily an indication that she was the Elizabeth Taylor of the ancient world. You see, in that time and place, multiple marriages were not uncommon, as husbands died in war and from illness or injury, leaving the woman to marry again if she didn’t want to starve to death. In addition to that, marriages could be annulled by male family members if a better financial offer came along. And then there’s this: the right to marry was restricted. For example: slave could not marry. Roman soldiers could not marry. A Roman citizen could not marry a non-citizen. So, the truth is we don’t know why this woman had all these husbands. And we have no idea why she was not married to the one she had now. But none of that has ever stopped us from sex shaming this nameless woman.
Except she has a name – at least in the traditions of Eastern Orthodox Christianity. She is called “Photine” or “Svetlana” meaning “the illuminated one.” For Orthodox Christians, the thing that defines her is not her so-called sin. What defines her is the role that she played during and after this conversation with Jesus. When it was all said and done, Photine ran back into town and announced to anyone who would listen: “Come and see the man who told me everything I have ever done.”
And that, Orthodox Christians say, is what makes Photine the first evangelist to proclaim that Jesus is the Messiah. And that, Orthodox Christians say, is why her name can also be translated as “equal to the apostles.” This so-called loose woman, this sex shamed character is on the same footing as those twelve men who knew Jesus best.
“Come and see the One who told me everything I’ve ever done.” “Come and see the one who spoke to me like an equal.” “Come and see the one who asked me my name.” “Come and see the one who really saw me… and loved me just the same.”
In that world, in that time, likely no man had ever seen Photine for who she really was. But Jesus did. And it caused in her a well of living water to bubble up to eternal life.
And just like her, when we are seen and accepted and loved, those same waters well up in us. And the dirt of our past is washed away. And the thirst for dignity is quenched. And we say with her: “Come and see the One who told me everything I have ever done, and loves me just the same.”
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