Sunday, March 8, 2026

3 Lent


March 8, 2026

 

John 4.5-42 

 

+ In our very long Gospel reading, we find Jesus in conversation with this Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well.

 

More often than not, when we encounter a story like this in scripture, we don’t think about what happened to some of these people following their experience with Jesus.

 

Every so often, it might not hurt to ask ourselves: what happened to this woman at the well?

 

Did she heed the words of Jesus to her, or did she go on in her old lifestyle?

 

We know she shared the news with other Samaritans.

 

But did she reform her life?

 

Well, there are actually some interesting stories about what might have happened to this Samaritan woman.

 

What many Western Christians don’t know—and probably have never given a second thought to—is the fact that this Samaritan woman is revered now by the Eastern Church.

 

They have actually given her a name.

 

Traditionally, she is known now as St. Photini.

 

According to tradition, the belief is that St. Photini did, in fact, take Jesus’s words to heart.

 

The story goes that she, along with five of her sisters, were baptized and that, following Jesus’s death, she went out to proclaim the Gospel.

 

She was preaching the Gospel in Rome when the Emperor Nero began his persecution of Christians.

 

She confronted the Emperor with her faith in and love for Christ, which simply enraged him.

 

He had her imprisoned and tortured, but would not allow her to die.

 

One night, as she lay in prison, begging for God to allow her to die, Jesus appeared to her just as he had at Jacob’s well.

 

As he stood above her, he offered her the waters of everlasting life.

 

The vision filled her with such joy, that, a few days later, she died singing her praises to God.

 

In the Orthodox Church, she is referred to as “equal to the Apostles,” which is saying a lot.

 

St. Mary Magdalene is also considered “equal to the apostles.”

 

Of course, if you have ever had to endure my rant about that designation at our Wednesday night Eucharist when we commemorate St. Mary Magdalene you will hear me go off on why we don’t just name her an apostle, since she was more of an apostle than the actual apostles in my opinion. But. . .

 

There is a wonderful hymn that the Eastern Church sings to St. Photini

 

Illuminated by the Holy Spirit, All-Glorious One,

From Christ the Saviour you drank the water of salvation.

With open hand you give it to those who thirst.

Great-Martyr Photini, Equal-to-the-Apostles,

Pray to Christ for the salvation of our souls.

 

Her feast day is celebrated in the Orthodox Church on February 26.

 

And yes the Episcopal Church also commemorates her now, also on February 26 in our calendar of saints.

 

But, what is more important is the message that is here for all of us.

 

Jesus talks about a “living water.”

 

What is this living water Jesus speaks of?

 

Well, if we read this scripture closely we see that, despite popular pious tradition, Jesus at no point says that HE is the Living Water.

 

But rather that he comes to give this Living Water.

 

So, what is it that he offers this woman at the well?

 

Well, we actually get our answer in another later passage from the Gospel of John.

 

In John chapter 7, it is made clear that this Living Water is the Spirit of God within Jesus.

 

The Living Water that flows so abundantly, so profusely, is the very Spirit of God.

 

Of course because he is the Messiah, the Christ, as he tells this woman he is, he has this Spirit within him.

 

Christ or Messiah means “anoi8nted one.”

 

And that means anointed by God’s Spirit.  

 

And, this is important, when as Jesus sits with the woman at the well, he offers not only her that water of life, this Spirit of the living God—he offers it to us as well.

 

And we, in turn, like her, must “with open hand” give it “to those who thirst.”

 

To truly understand the meaning of water here, though we have to gently remind ourselves of the land in which this story is taking place.

 

Palestine was and is a dry and arid land.

 

And in Jesus’ day, water was not as accessible as we take for granted these days.

 

It came from wells that sometimes weren’t in close proximity to one’s home.

 

There was certainly no in-door plumbing.

 

The water that came from those wells was not the clean and filtered water we enjoy now, that we drink from fancy bottles.

 

They didn’t have refrigeration; they wouldn’t have understood what an ice cube was—so often the water they drank was lukewarm at best.

 

And sometimes it was polluted.

 

People got sick and died from drinking it.

 

Which is why people drank alcohol.

 

But despite all of that, water was essential.

 

One died without water in that arid land.

 

Water meant life.

 

In that world, people truly understood thirst.

 

They thirsted truly for water.

 

And so we have this issue of water in a story in which Jesus confronts this woman—who is obviously and truly thirsty.

 

Thirsty for water, yes, but—as we learn—she is obviously thirsty also for more.

 

She is thirsty as well for love, for security, for stability, all of which she does not have.

 

Now, we have to be fair to her.

 

For a woman to be without a man in her day would have meant that she would be without security, without a home, without anything.

 

A woman at that time was defined by the men in her life—her husband or father or son.

 

And so, widowed as many times as she was, she was desperate to find some reason and purpose in her life through the men in her life.

 

This woman is truly a broken person.

 

She is thirsty.

 

Thirsty for the water she is drawing from the well and thirsty for more than life and her society has given her.

 

In a sense, we can find much to relate to in this woman.

 

We too are broken people, as you have heard me preach again and again during this season of Lent so far.

 

We too are thirsty.

 

As broken people, we are thirsty for relationships, for money, for food, for alcohol, for anything to fill that empty parched feeling within our broken selves.

 

And as broken people, we find that as much as we try to quench that thirst, it all seems to run right out of us.

 

We find that we will never be quenched until we drink of that cool, clean water which will fill us where we need to be filled.

 

That cool, clean Water is of course the Spirit of Life.

 

God’s Spirit is the Water of which we drink to be truly filled.

 

It is the Water that will become in us “a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”

 

What better image to take with us in these long, spiritually thirsty days of Lent?

 

As we journey through the desert of Lent toward Holy Week, toward the darkness and violence of Good Friday, what better image can we cling to?

 

Because that is what we are doing during Lent.

 

We are traveling through the desert.

 

We are walking through the arid wasteland of our own lives.

 

We are journeying toward the Cross and toward the destruction, thirst, pain and death it brings.

 

We are wandering toward that tomb, that dark, dank place.

 

We are that woman at the well—parched and alone, thirsting for something more.

 

In Lent, we bring ourselves—our fractured, shattered, uncertain, frightened, insecure selves—to the well, expecting only for a temporary quenching.

 

But we know what awaits us.

 

We know that if we, like the Samaritan woman, is patient, we too will be given what we long for.

 

So, let us drink fully of the Living Water of God’s Spirit that is offered to us there.

 

Let us drink deeply of God’s Spirit, who is offered to us fully and completely.

 

And in that Water, we will find all that we desire.

 

Our insecurities will be washed away.

 

Our wounds will be cleaned and healed.

 

Everything we have done or failed to do will be made right.

 

Our brokenness will be made whole.

 

We will be remade into saints.

 

That thirst that drives us and nags at us and gnaws at us, that drives us to drink from places where we should not be drinking, will finally—once and for all—be quenched.

 

And in that Living Water we will find Life—that Life that Jesus the Messiah, the Christ brings us.

 

That life we find in those Living Waters is a Life without death or suffering or want.

 

All we have to do is say, “Give me some of that water.”

 

All we have to say is “give me the Spirit of the living God.”

 

And it will be given to us.

 

And those of us who drink of that water will never again be thirsty.

No comments:

3 Lent

March 8, 2026   John 4.5-42     + In our very long Gospel reading, we find Jesus in conversation with this Samaritan woman at Jacob’...