Sermon preached at the Sung Eucharist on the Third Sunday of Lent 2026

Water is literally all around us. It's in the air, in the ground, in our bodies, in the very fabric of these walls. Our planet's surface is about 70% water; our bodies are about 65% water. Whilst we can live without food for between 2 and 3 months, we can only live without water for about 3 days. In this country, we are fortunate to have running water as a norm. We can turn on a tap just about anywhere and get clean, safe drinking water. It can be easy for us to forget that in many other parts of the world that isn't the case.

This privilege was made very stark to me some years ago, when the water pressure in my home dropped completely, and we had no running water in the house at all for 2 days. While they were working on the problem out on the street, Thames Water gave us some big 2-litre bottles of water to keep us going. However, the bottles were dirty from having been sitting in the back of a van, so how could we use them without getting our hands dirty, if we couldn't run the bottles or our hands under the tap? This conundrum has stayed with me! Everything I needed to do involved water – boiling a kettle, cooking on the hob, using the bathroom, washing dishes. In the end I had to go and stay with a friend. When I experienced firsthand that life was impossible without it, I really saw just how essential water is for life, as obvious as that sounds. When the water pressure got fixed, I can remember the joy of watching  it surge from the pipes, and vowed that I would never again take for granted the gift and privilege of running water.

To talk about water in the middle of this 'desert' season of Lent may seem a bit inappropriate. This is a time of fasting and penitence, of remembering Jesus' 40 days in the very dry desert, as he prepared for ministry. But our Gospel today gives us a glimpse of what is to come after the desert season. We encounter a scene where Jesus is weary from travelling, and in the heat of the midday sun, he rests by a well while his friends go ahead to buy food. He was in need of refreshment, certainly. But he was also about to offer it, in a most profound way. 

We talk about a person being 'refreshing' when they offer something new. A breath of fresh air, we say, to mean a welcome change, or something or someone which sheds new light on things. It's always good news when someone brings a refreshing outlook. It offers hope for a way forward. Now, next Sunday is traditionally known as Refreshment Sunday, marking the middle of Lent and the need for a rest; but consider these words a foretaste!

Jesus offers just such hopeful refreshment to the woman. Before we go on, though, on this International Women’s Day, let us dignify her with a name. In the Eastern Orthodox tradition she is venerated as St Photini, meaning 'enlightened one,' celebrated as equal to the apostles because of her work evangelising the region where she lived. So, Photini it is.

Jesus' approach to the conversation with Photini at the well was truly refreshing, for her and for us.

He showed his own vulnerability in telling her he was thirsty, showing us, the hearers of the gospel, the full extent of his humanity alongside his divinity, and showing her their shared humanity despite their differences. He also shows the importance of allowing oneself to be served when in need. Over and over again, Christ tells and shows us the importance of service. True humility allows service to go both ways – to serve others, yes, but also to be served by them when we are in need.

The way Jesus crossed boundaries was truly refreshing – shocking, indeed, for Photini. She names it straight away – "How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?" These were substantial social boundaries which Jesus was crossing in this encounter. Here, he demonstrates the weakness of human-made hierarchy in the face of God's love, and the unique value Photini has, irrespective of social constructs.

Also refreshing is the fact that Jesus shows no judgement towards Photini in this conversation. She would have experienced much judgement from others because of her personal history. She was at the well in the middle of the day because it meant avoiding other women who would come to draw water in the cool of the morning or evening. We don't know why she had been married so many times, whether they were divorces or deaths. We do know that this was a time when women had no power to end their own marriages – she had very little agency of her own. But whatever her past, what's important here is that, even though he knows everything about her, he offers her no condemnation, but acceptance and love.

Jesus offers to Photini "a spring of water gushing up to eternal life," which initially she believes to be another well or spring somewhere nearby. But as the encounter progresses, I think she begins to realise that the refreshment Jesus is offering is present with her at that very moment. That the water he speaks of is the reality of love, compassion, safety, and acceptance which all of us can find in the presence of Christ. “Where do you get that living water?” she asks. Could it be from the very encounter itself? The boundary crossing, the truth telling, the looking in the eyes, his very presence with her, the knowledge that here is the Messiah she has been waiting for?

No one is left unchanged after an encounter with God. Photini was refreshed in her very soul by Christ’s presence, his being with her, and that encounter made her the first evangelist – a most unlikely choice of missionary, by the standards of the day. “Come and see a man who told me everything I’ve ever done” – be refreshed by him, and be changed.