Set Free

Letting Go

Today, we will examine a narrative from the Gospel of John—a true account that holds profound significance. This story is particularly compelling because it centers on an individual who was utterly broken and burdened by shame, yet experienced a transformative encounter with Jesus that changed their life forever.

I must also note that this story contains an unexpected twist—one that may surprise even those who are well-acquainted with it, having heard it numerous times. However, I will reserve that revelation for the conclusion.

The Gospel of John declares, "For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him" (John 3:17). Nowhere is this truth more evident than in the account we are about to explore. God's intention is not to condemn but to redeem, offering salvation through His Son.

Do you embrace this truth for yourself? Do you truly grasp that God does not condemn you, even in your unique brokenness, struggles, and imperfections? He neither shames nor condemns you, and contrary to what you may believe, He is not even disappointed in you. In fact, the word "disappointed" does not appear anywhere in the original languages of Scripture. Rather, He fully understands you and loves you exactly as you are today.

However, this does not mean He intends to leave you where you are. God desires to rescue you from the darkness that holds power over you—whether it be anger, anxiety, resentment, depression, greed, lust, or any other burden. And He will. In place of these struggles, He will cultivate peace, joy, love, and courage within you.

But His work of restoration extends far beyond the individual—it encompasses the entire world. He will heal the brokenness we witness daily. Injustice and corruption will be no more. Oppression and inequity will vanish. One day, He will make all things new.

God did not send His Son into the world to condemn it, but to redeem and restore it. Is this not astonishingly good news?

This passage invites us to engage our imagination in observing the humanity and character of Jesus. As He sat on the well’s edge while His disciples went into town to buy food, subtle details of their travel habits emerge.

Though young and strong from years of carpentry, Jesus was weary. He lacked a rope to draw water (John 4:11), a reminder of the simplicity of His earthly provisions. A bucket made of animal skin may have been present, yet long ropes were valuable and not easily fashioned. As He lifted His gaze, He saw the woman approaching, her drawing rope coiled around her waist.

One can picture the quiet moment as Jesus watched her lower the vessel, the sound of splashing water deepening His thirst. Only after she had filled her carrying jar for the journey back did He break the silence, saying, “Give me a drink” (John 4:7, RSV).

First Thing, the animosity between Jews and Samaritans ran deep. The Jews viewed the Samaritans as having corrupted the true faith by intermarrying with Gentiles and incorporating foreign religious practices—an issue tracing back to the Babylonian exile ( Because of this, the Jews did not consider Samaritans to be "true" members of God’s covenant people, seeing their syncretistic worship and way of life as a betrayal of their heritage.

Given this deep-seated division, it was highly unusual for a Jew to engage in conversation with a Samaritan. Yet, that is precisely what Jesus did. Even more shocking was that He, a Jewish man, spoke to a woman alone. This was not merely a concern about appearances or accusations of impropriety. In that culture, women occupied an inferior status in society—viewed more as objects to be used than as individuals to be valued. Yet, Jesus disregarded these cultural barriers, treating the Samaritan woman with dignity, respect, and a radical inclusivity that defied the norms of His time.

The second thing I want to point out is there were differences in worship practices between the Samaritans and the Jews. The Samaritans believed that worship was to be conducted on Mount Gerizim, which is where this story is taking place (or at least nearby). The Jews believed the center of worship was, of course, in Jerusalem at the Temple.

Jesus says that “true worship” will take place neither on Mount Gerizim nor in Jerusalem, but instead will take place “in the Spirit and in truth” which can be anywhere, not determined by location (4:23). Jesus says “these are the kind of worshippers that the Father seeks” (4:23).

The third and most striking detail in this account is the woman herself. She arrives at the well “at noon” to draw water—an unusual time for such a task. Typically, women would fetch water in the early morning when the air was still cool, not under the harsh midday sun.

Moreover, she comes alone. In that culture, drawing water was a communal activity, a time when women gathered together. Her solitude suggests that she is, at best, without companionship and, at worst, ostracized by her community. The reason for her isolation becomes evident as the conversation with Jesus unfolds, revealing the deeper layers of her story and the brokenness that has marked her life.

Jesus Reaches Her Through Humility

The actions of Jesus in this encounter are both striking and deeply revealing. If Jesus does something, it is a direct reflection of God’s nature, for He is the perfect revelation of the Father. So, what does Jesus do?He humbles Himself.

In speaking to a Samaritan woman—someone despised by Jewish society—Jesus demonstrates humility, not dominance or hierarchical authority. "When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, ‘Will you give me a drink?’” (John 4:7).

This is no ordinary exchange. Jesus, fully aware of her past and present, chooses to engage with her. She is not a paragon of virtue—she is a sinner. And yet, Jesus does not withdraw or look away. He initiates conversation, offers relationship, and meets her where she is.

So where did we get the idea that God is too holy, too pure to even look upon sin? Where did we adopt the notion that His righteousness keeps Him from engaging with sinners? Not from Jesus.

Jesus repeatedly shattered that misconception. He ate with sinners, healed them, loved them, spoke with them, and prayed over them. He did not recoil in offense. He did not posture in self-righteousness. Instead, He was kind yet truthful, loving yet direct.

If we truly want to understand God, we must look at Jesus. And what do we see? A God who humbles Himself to reach the lost.

And guess what? She responded to that. She received his kindness, love, truth, and directness. She owned up to her faults. And, even though Jesus brought the skeletons out of her closet, she went back into town and brought everyone out to meet him.

Her shame

Here we have a lady who not only was guilty of sin, but probably lived her life in shame. She was ostracized from the other women in the village. She walked alone to get her water in the noonday sun.

Do you know the difference between guilt and shame? Guilt has to do with your behaviors, like when you do something wrong. Shame has to do with your identity, what you believe about yourself.

A person living with guilt says, “I made a mistake.”

A person living in shame says, “I am a mistake.”

Do you see the difference?

Shame is when we say to ourselves, “There is something wrong with me. I am nothing but …expletives.” And we live our life believing this about ourselves. That's shame. Shame involves deep humiliation about ourselves, not about something we’ve done. There’s a difference. The Holy Spirit will convict us of guilt (something we’ve done, or not done) and of sin, but he will never shame us.

Jesus exposes her actions—what she has done—but never attacks her identity. He calls out the truth: she has had five husbands, and the man she is with now is not her husband. Yet, notice what He doesn’t do. He does not degrade her. He does not insult or condemn her.

Why? Because condemnation was never His mission.

“For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” (John 3:17)

Jesus does not come to crush or shame; He comes to rescue. He knows the weight of guilt and self-reproach we already carry. He does not add to that burden—He lifts it.

Let me ask you: do you define yourself by your failures and shortcomings?

The harsh reality is that religion might label you that way. Others may define you through your mistakes. And, perhaps, you even define yourself by your flaws. But God does not define you by those things.

Yes, He sees your sin, your mistakes, your failures—but He knows that is not your true identity. You are not your mistakes. You are His child—His son, His daughter. Your worth is not found in your failures, but in your belonging to Him. Because of Jesus we no longer need to define ourselves by our biggest mistakes, our ugliest sins or even what people think of us. He came to save you, not condemn you.

Here’s the remarkable twist: this Samaritan woman, once known for her sin, became a prominent figure in the early church after the death and resurrection of Jesus. She didn’t fade into obscurity as a nameless character in a gospel story. She became known. Remember how I referred to her as a sinner throughout this message? That chapter didn’t last. God had a different plan for her, and He worked powerfully in her life!

She is now remembered as St. Photini, “The Enlightened One.” Yes, she’s a saint, no longer the sinner she once was! She was considered equal to the apostles, for she not only led her entire village to Christ but also became a missionary after the resurrection. She traveled with her two sons around the Mediterranean, spreading the gospel. Alongside her sons, she brought her five sisters to Christ, and together they shared the message of salvation.

Her life was forever changed the day she encountered the self-giving love of Jesus Christ. He gave her Living Water—the very presence of God—and from that moment on, she was never the same.

St. Photini’s devotion to Christ led her to martyrdom. She was executed for her faith by the Roman emperor Nero, and her sons suffered the same fate. Her legacy continues to inspire, a testament to the power of transformation through Christ.

Nero’s cruelty knew no bounds when he had St. Photini killed by throwing her into a dry well, a brutal mockery of the life-changing encounter she had with Jesus. Yet, even in the face of such a horrifying end, she faced death with unwavering joy and courage. She could not—would not—recant her devotion to Christ. Her heart had been touched by the God of love, and no threat could shake her resolve.

She stood firm, knowing that the love of Christ was greater than any earthly fear, and her faith led her to the very end of her earthly journey.

And now, you know the rest of the story.

God does not condemn you. He desires to save you because He loves you deeply.

He is not finished writing your story. He knows every secret, every flaw, every mess you carry—and He refuses to leave you in that place. Instead, He offers to fill you with Living Water, His very presence, transforming you from the inside out.

The question is: do you want it?