No Shame On You

John 4:1-45

Intro – The Search for Love

No topic has received as much attention as love. Philosophers, poets, and songwriters have all tried to define it.

Shakespeare once said, “Love asks me no questions.”

Plato wrote, “At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.”

Tennyson said, “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

And Lennon and McCartney sang, “All you need is love.”

But another voice, not as famous in the world’s eyes, spoke more deeply about love than all of them. Not a poet, not a philosopher, not a songwriter — but a fisherman. His name was John.

John walked with Jesus Christ for about three years. He wasn’t speculating about love. He lived with Love Himself. And John tells us that love isn’t just a feeling. Love is a Person.

But here’s the problem: if God is love, why do so many of us live with shame? Why do so many of us feel unworthy, guilty, disqualified, unclean?

That’s what this message is about. Today’s sermon is titled “No Shame on You.” Because when Jesus meets you at your well — the place of hiding, the place of shame — His purpose is not to condemn you, but to free you.

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Point 1 – Shame is Universal

Shame is the painful shadow of guilt. Sometimes it’s guilt from sin. Sometimes it’s from weakness. Sometimes it’s from failure. But whatever the source, shame weighs heavy on the soul.

We’ve all felt it.

Think about a little boy who breaks a lamp in the living room. What does he do? He hides under the bed. Mom still knows. The lamp is still broken. But shame whispers, “Don’t let them see who you really are. Hide.”

And we carry that into adulthood, don’t we? You bump into someone from your past, and you suddenly want to duck into another grocery aisle. Or you avoid certain conversations because you don’t want people to know the whole story.

That’s shame. And it’s universal. But here’s the good news: in Christ, there’s no shame on you.

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Point 2 – Three Responses to Shame

Most people respond in one of three ways.

First, religion.

Religion says: “You’re in debt to God. You’ve sinned. You’ve failed. You owe Him.” And so you work harder. You pray longer. You serve more. You try to pile up enough good deeds to balance the scale.

But friend, the debt is too much. You can’t pay it off. And the harder you try, the more exhausted you get. Religion can’t erase shame.

Picture it like this: a man racks up $100,000 in credit card debt. “Religion” says, “Work overtime, pay it off. Maybe in 200 years, you’ll break even.” But you’ll never catch up.

Second, irreligion.

Irreligion takes God out of the picture. It says: “Forget the guilt. Ignore it. Escape it.” Some people lose themselves in hours of television or scrolling endlessly on their phones. Others medicate with alcohol, drugs, pornography. It numbs for a while. But when the high wears off, the shame comes back — often worse than before.

It’s like ignoring a serious medical symptom. You feel chest pain but decide, “I’ll just push through. Maybe it’ll go away.” Ignoring it doesn’t heal you. It only makes things worse.

Third, there’s Christ.

Christ doesn’t say “work harder” or “pretend it doesn’t exist.” He says, “Bring it to Me. I’ll take it. I’ll set you free.”

So we’ve got three responses: Religion = debt. Irreligion = denial. Christ = deliverance.

And deliverance means this: in Christ, there’s no shame on you.

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Point 3 – The Woman at the Well is a Mirror of Us

Let’s step into the story.

Jesus is traveling from Judea back to Galilee — about 70 miles on foot. He stops in Samaria, in a town called Sychar, and sits down by Jacob’s well. He’s tired. He’s thirsty. His disciples have gone into town to buy food.

Verse 7: “A woman from Samaria came to draw water.”

Notice the detail: it was the sixth hour. That’s noon. Women didn’t go to the well at noon. They went in the cool of the morning, together, in groups. This woman comes alone, at the hottest time of day. Why? Because she was avoiding the whispers, the stares, the judgment. She was carrying shame.

And Jesus, a Jewish rabbi, speaks to her. That was unheard of. Rabbis didn’t talk to women, much less Samaritan women. But Jesus breaks the barrier. He asks her for a drink.

She’s shocked. “How is it that you, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a Samaritan woman?”

But Jesus isn’t after water. He’s after her heart. He says, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living water.”