 |
Mark Nepo |
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Welcome:
Dear Community, welcome to our liturgy for the third Sunday of Lent. Our theme today is deep listening. We will be listening to a reading by Tara Brach and then the story of the woman at the well and then we will listen to each other. The opening prayer by Joan Chittister is a beautiful prayer that leads us into our liturgy during Women’s History Month.
Let us pray together:
Opening Prayer: (Joan)
Holy One, Creator of women in your own image
born of a woman in a world half women,
carried by women to mission fields around the globe,
made known by women to all the children of the earth,
give to the women of our time,
the strength to persevere,
the courage to speak out,
the faith to believe in you beyond all systems and institutions,
so that your face on earth may be seen in all its beauty,
so that people become whole,
so that the church may be converted to your will in everything and in all ways. Amen
(excerpt from Litany for Women by Joan Chittister)
Opening Song: Come as you Are by the Many
https://youtu.be/WLQsfto8LyE?si=zOz0DUYI3mK6dvny
LITURGY OF THE WORD
First Reading: (Beth) A reading from the Sacred Art of Listening by Tara Brach
What happens when there’s a listening presence? When we’re fully in that listening presence, when there’s that pure quality of receptivity, we become presence itself. And whether you call that God or pure awareness or our true nature, the boundary of inner and outer dissolves and we become a luminous field of awakeness. When we’re in that open presence we can really respond to the life that’s here. We fall in love.
This state of listening is the precursor or the prerequisite to loving relatedness. The more you understand the state of listening – of being able to have the sounds of rain wash through you, of receiving the sound and tone of another’s voice – the more you know about nurturing a loving relationship. In a way it’s an extremely vulnerable position. As soon as you stop planning what you’re going to say or managing what the other person’s saying, all of a sudden, there’s no control. You’re open to your own sadness, your own anger and discomfort. Listening means putting down control. It’s not a small thing to do.
Pure listening is a letting go of control. It’s not easy and takes training. And yet it’s only when we can let go of that controlling that we open up to the real purity of loving. We can’t see or understand someone in the moments that we are trying to control what they are saying or trying to impress them with what we are saying. There’s no space for that person to just unfold and be who they are. Listening and unconditionally receiving what another expresses, is an expression of love.
The bottom line is when we are listened to, we feel connected. When we’re not listened to, we feel separate. So whether it’s the communicating between different tribes or religions, ethnicities, racial groups or different generations, we need to listen. The more we understand, the less we fear; the less we fear, the more we trust and the more we trust, the more love can flow.
These are the inspired words of mystic ,Tara Brach, and we affirm them with, Amen.
Gospel Acclamation: Spirit of the Living God by Michael Crawford
https://youtu.be/xoJN0owUoWA?si=YZey8Reho2S2r6LT
Gospel: (Mary Theresa, Jane, and Beth) The Woman at the Well: A Gospel Dialogue (Jn 4:5-42)
Narrator: (Mary Theresa)
It is noon.The sun stands high over the land of Samaria, and the well of Jacob lies exposed—a place of labor, of thirst, of long memory.
Jesus, weary from the journey, sits beside the well. His disciples have gone into the town. A woman comes alone, carrying her jar.
Woman: (Jane)
(Stopping short)
Why are you here? A Jewish man, sitting at our well, speaking to me—a Samaritan woman?
Jesus: (Beth)
Please give me a drink.
Woman:
You know the boundaries you cross. You know the lines drawn by religion,
by history, by fear. Jews do not speak to Samaritans. Men do not speak to women like this.
Jesus:
If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, “Give me a drink,”
you would have asked me, and I would have given you living water.
Narrator:
She looks at the well—deep, ancient, dependable.She looks at the man—with no bucket, no rope,only words.
Woman:
Sir, you have no vessel, and the well is deep. Where will you get this living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us this well?
Jesus:
Everyone who drinks this water will thirst again. But those who drink the water I give
will never thirst. The water I give will become in them a spring, welling up to eternal life.
Woman:
(Quietly, with longing)
Sir…give me this water, so that I may never thirst again, so that I do not have to keep coming here alone.
Narrator:
Jesus looks at her—not past her, not through her, but into her story.
Jesus:
Go. Call your husband, and come back.
Woman:
I have no husband.
Jesus:
You are right in saying that. You have had five, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true.
Narrator:
There is no condemnation in his voice. Only truth spoken gently,
as if truth itself can heal.
Woman:
Sir, I see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place to worship is in Jerusalem. Tell me—where does God truly dwell?
Jesus:
The hour is coming—and is already here—when true worshipers will worship the Holy One in spirit and in truth.
The Holy One is Spirit, and those who worship
must worship in spirit and truth.
Narrator:
The well fades into the background. This conversation has become holy ground.
Woman:
I know the Messiah is coming—the one called the Anointed. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.
Jesus:
I am he. The one speaking with you.
Narrator:
She does not recoil. She does not bow. She stands taller.
Woman:
(With wonder) Could this be…? Could it be true?
Narrator:
She leaves her water jar behind—the symbol of her old thirst—and runs back to the city.
Woman (calling out):
Come and see! Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?
Narrator:
Many believed because of her word. The woman once avoided at noon becomes a witness in full daylight. The well remains—but now it is her voice that carries living water.
We affirm this Gospel with: Amen.
(pause for silent reflection)
Homily Starter: Mary Theresa
It is noon, the hour when the sun leaves no shadows to hide in. A woman comes alone to the well. And this detail matters.
For centuries, this woman has been reduced to a moral lesson. But the Gospel of John never calls her sinful. That label was layered on later—by interpreters more comfortable judging women than listening to them.
What the text actually reveals is a woman who is theologically sharp, spiritually perceptive, and socially burdened. She carries not only a water jar, but the weight of history—patriarchy, ethnic conflict, religious exclusion. And she meets a tired, thirsty Jesus. He does something radical. He listens. He makes himself vulnerable first.
In our first reading, the mystic Tara Brach reminds us that pure listening is a letting go of control. It is stepping out of managing, judging, rehearsing our response. It is becoming present. It is allowing another to unfold without interruption. Listening, she says, is an act of love.
And at the well, Jesus loves this woman by listening her into being. He does not silence her theological questions. He does not shame her complicated story. He does not correct her tone. He engages her.
In Women’s History Month, we remember how rare that has been. How many women across history were told to be quiet in church? How many were denied education, ordination, authorship, credibility? How many had their spiritual authority filtered through male approval? Even today, women’s voices are labeled emotional when they are prophetic. They are called disruptive when they are truthful. They are described as divisive when they name injustice. When women are not listened to, they experience separation. When they are listened to, connection begins. The woman at the well experiences connection.
When Jesus names her history, there is no condemnation in his voice—only truth spoken gently. He sees her whole story and He trusts her with revelation. “I am he.” In John’s Gospel, this is the first explicit self-revelation of the Messiah. Not to Peter. Not to a religious authority. But to a Samaritan woman at noon. And what does she do? She becomes an apostle. She leaves her water jar—the symbol of survival under scarcity—and runs into the city proclaiming possibility: “Come and see.” She invites encounter. This is what listening does. It awakens voice.
Tara Brach says that when we are fully present, the boundary between inner and outer dissolves. We become a luminous field of awakeness. At the well, that luminous field opens between Jesus and this woman. Sacred geography dissolves. Temple and mountain fade. Spirit and truth rise.
In this Women’s History Month, we honor the women who kept drawing water when the heat was unbearable.
We honor women who preached without permission.
Women who organized for justice.
Women who named abuse and demanded accountability.
Women who loved boldly in a world that called them improper.
The Spirit we sang about in Spirit of the Living God falls fresh on us not as domination, but as presence. Not as control, but as breath. And perhaps the living water Jesus promises is this: To be so deeply heard that we rediscover our own sacred voice.
The woman at the well story is our story, too. We are a community that listens and encourages our prophetic voices. What a blessing.
What are your thoughts on today's liturgy?
Prayers of the Community
Jane: As we prepare for the sacred meal we bring to this table our blessings, cares and concerns. Please feel free to voice your intentions beginning with the words “I bring to the table….”
Jane: We pray for these and all unspoken intentions. Amen.
LITURGY OF THE EUCHARIST
Joan: With open hearts and hands let us pray our Eucharistic prayer as one voice:
We give you thanks, Wellspring of Wisdom, for you meet us where we are—
at the edges of belonging, in the heat of the day.
With all who have drawn water from deep wells—
prophets and poets, seekers and skeptics,
faithful women whose courage sustained the church,
we raise our voices in praise:
Holy, Holy, Holy - Music -John Bacchus Dykes, words by Peter Mayer, video by Denise Hackert-Stoner
https://youtu.be/A4kiEGVb3E8?si=KQwbITzEwNlYIz_S
Mary Theresa: Please extend your hands in blessing.
Holy are you, God of living water,
and blessed is Jesus, who crossed boundaries without apology, who spoke truth without condemnation. In him, we see your face turned toward the margins. In him, we hear your voice.
On the night before he faced his own death and for the sake of living fully, Jesus sat at the supper with his companions and friends. He reminded them of all that he taught them, and to fix that memory clearly within them, he bent down and washed their feet.
Lifting the plate
When he returned to his place at the table, he lifted the bread, spoke the blessing,
Take the bread and offered it to them saying:
Take and eat; This is my very self. When you do this, remember me.
Lifting the cup
He then raised high the cup of the covenant, spoke the grace, and offered it to them saying: Take and drink. Whenever you remember me like this, I am among you.
What we have heard with our ears, we will live with our lives, As we share communion, we become communion both Love’s nourishment and Love’s challenge.
Please receive communion with the words: I am / You are the Face of the Holy One.
Communion Song: Breath of the One Life by Jan Novotka
https://youtu.be/FV8dQhTZe_o?si=XHEGM38vBLuN6Vsh
Prayer after Communion
Jane: Holy One, we open ourselves to your Spirit, especially during this season of Lent, and we call on that Spirit to fill us with your life and purpose, as we join with our brother Jesus in giving you unending gratitude. Amen.
Jane: Let us pray together the prayer of Jesus:
O Holy One, who is within, around and among us,
We celebrate your many names.
Your Wisdom comes.
Your will be done, unfolding from the depths within us,
Each day you give us all we need;
You remind us of our limits, and we let go.
You support us in our power, and we act with courage.
For you are the dwelling place within us,
the empowerment around us,
and the celebration among us, now and forever. Amen
(Miriam Therese Winter)
Beth: We welcome visitors who are here with us for the first time. (pause).
We invite you to offer your thanksgivings and gratitudes.
Blessing
Beth: Let us pray together our blessing:
May the Holy One draw us into the sacred art of listening—
the listening that makes room for another soul to unfold.
May the blessing of the Holy One,
Source of Life, Living Word, and Breath of Love—
be upon us and remain with us always. Amen.
Closing Song: A Woman’s Place by Sara Thomsen
https://youtu.be/KnVMwPuehoI?si=SPMYvztgdpIcLyQu
