Out of an overabundance of caution, the decision has been made to cancel tonight’s evening activities including worship, music rehearsals and any scheduled photo directory appointments due to the impending severe weather.
Below is Pastor Will’s homily written for tonight’s worship, centering on the theme “Sent for Inclusion”.
Grace and Peace be to you from God our Creator and our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Dear friends in Christ, on Sunday, Pastor Amy shared that one of her mom’s favorite phrases was “It builds character,” and she rightly mentioned that it has never once been uttered when people were having a good time. In light of that, I’d like you to know that I’m not sick tonight—I’m just building character.
Pastor Amy also spoke a powerful word about the woman at the well—the disciple at the well. She mentioned something that is really important to this woman’s story; she had 5 husbands, which almost certainly has nothing to do with her own choice. In the ancient world, women typically had very little say in who they married. The practice of levirate marriage, described in Leviticus, meant that if a married man died before producing an heir, his brother was expected to marry the widow and provide one in his place.
So it’s possible that this woman’s story isn’t just about multiple husbands, but multiple deaths; a multitude of grief. And honestly, that may be the best case scenario, because the alternative is that four men have taken her as a wife and subsequently dismissed her as unsuitable. Either way, the woman in our story has suffered. And suffering so often leads to isolation.
That certainly seems to be the case for this Samaritan woman at the well. She is alone. Her own people appear to want nothing to do with her. That may be why she is gathering water at noon, in the heat of the day, when no one else would likely be there. She is shunned, not because of what she has done, but rather because of what has happened to her or what has been done to her. In the Gospel text, she is not even given the dignity of a name, though Church tradition has called her Photina, which means “the luminous one.”
Photina is isolated. And isolation so easily leads to bitterness and resentment. It becomes easy to believe the negative things have been laid on us, until we begin to withdraw ourselves. After all, it can feel safer not to risk being hurt again. That could have been Photina’s story. But then she met Jesus.
Jesus comes to save us from isolation. And he does this with Photina is a curious way; he makes himself vulnerable. The woman who has been cast aside by everyone else is the only one who can meet his need. He asks her for water, opening the door for conversation. As they talk, it becomes clear that they both have something the other needs. Photina has water, and Jesus is thirsty; Jesus has life in abundance and a willingness to share; and Photina is longing for community.
But it doesn’t stop there. When Photina begins to understand who this Jesus is and what he offers, she cannot keep it to herself. She goes to the people of the town—the same people who have so often shut her out—and she invites them to come and see this man, this Messiah! Jesus has saved her from isolation, but her healing is not complete until she is restored to community. Faith, grace, hope, salvation— these are communal realities. Life in Jesus is a team sport.
So Photina goes. Jesus doesn’t even have to give her instructions; she already knows that she has been sent for inclusion. She goes to tell everyone she knows about the hope she has found. And what is even more amazing is that they listen. The very people who had avoided her, dismissed her, or whispered about her, now hear her testimony. And they come. They come to see Jesus for themselves, and before long they begin to believe just as Photina did. What began as a private conversation at a well becomes the beginning of a community gathered around Christ. Jesus saves Photina from her isolation, and sends her out for the sake of inclusion.
Dear Church, Photina’s story is powerful because it is so familiar. We all know what isolation feels like. Even before the pandemic—and especially since—we have experienced an epidemic of isolation. We are so connected through technology but still so profoundly alone. We carry wounds that others cannot see; stories they cannot understand. Sometimes we withdraw because we have been hurt. Sometimes we withdrawn because we just can’t risk being hurt again.
And Jesus meets us at the well. He meets us in the ordinary places of life; in our daily routines, our questions, our loneliness. He meets us in our character-building moments and in the suffering that just feels senseless. And he reminds us that we are not alone. He speaks words of life. He gives us living water.
When we have received such grace, Beloved, we cannot keep it to ourselves. Just like Photina, we are sent for inclusion, sent to find others who know the pain of isolation, who have been shunned for what they did or rejected for what was done to them. We are sent with an invitation: Come and see. Come and see the grace that found me when I had nothing left. Come and drink of the water that quenched my deepest thirst. Come and know the one who knows you fully and loves you endlessly. Come—no matter who you are, where you have been, what you have done, or what has been done to you—and know that this free gift of grace and abundant life is for you.
Beloved, we have been saved from isolation, and sent for inclusion. We are sent to those we love and those we struggle to love. To those with whom we have much in common and those with whom we have nothing in common. To those whose cups are overflowing and those whose wells have run dry. Our calling is community; a gathering as wildly inclusive as the love that first found us.
As we continue our Lenten journey, may you trust that you are not alone. Go out knowing that you have been saved from isolation and sent for radical inclusion. Go out to build up a community as boundless as God’s love. Go out, Beloved, that no one might feel left out of God’s amazing grace. Amen.
Last modified: March 11, 2026