Third Sunday of Lent (A)
(Note: Although we are in Cycle B this year, parishes that have RCIA catechumens and candidates can use Cycle A for these next three Sundays. This is the situation in the parish where I help out, so this is what you will have for these next three weeks!)
Today, John’s Gospel introduces us to a woman in the Samaritan town of Sychar who comes to Jacob’s well, located outside the town, to draw water. It is about noon.
That time notice alerts us that something unusual is afoot. People ordinarily came to a well early in the morning to draw the water they would need for the day, rather than come in the heat of midday. Some people have speculated that this woman, due to her checkered past, may have been an outcast in the town and so could not come when everyone else came. However, because the townspeople later receive her testimony about Jesus so readily, this seems unlikely.
Privacy, as we now know it, was almost unheard-of in the ancient Mediterranean world. People lived with extended families, and it was extremely rare for someone to have a room just for themselves. People who sought solitude were either possessed (like the man in Mark 5), fleeing for their lives, or – like Moses or Elijah at Horeb – were being called apart by God to be given some special mission.
This Samaritan woman chooses to come to the well at a time when no one is likely to be there. Perhaps something is troubling her, something she can’t quite name. She feels a need to separate herself from family and neighbors, if only for a short time, to ponder this restlessness, this thirst.
As she nears the well, she discovers, to her dismay, that she will not be alone. A man is there. He’s not from the town – she knows that much. But the way he looks, the way he is dressed… is he a Jew? Why would he be there? She decides to go ahead anyway and get her water.
He then asks her for a drink. Who IS this man? In this culture, a man rarely speaks to a woman who is not his wife, sister or daughter. And if he is a Jew, why would he speak to a Samaritan at all? But he isn’t finished. He then offers her – did she hear that right? – flowing water.
(Note: in the original Greek, the word used can mean ‘flowing’ or ‘living’, depending on context. John often uses double-meanings to lead the reader to a fuller understanding.)
Flowing water. Maybe that’s her problem. She just needs better-tasting water than what she has in this well, and a flowing mountain stream will taste better than any water from a well. She misunderstands what Jesus means because she does not yet understand the nature of her deepest thirst.
Many of us find ourselves in the same spot. In our culture, with water and other drinks so readily available, we rarely feel the physical thirst that people in hot, dry environments would have known. Yet, we feel another kind of thirst. We feel a restlessness. Or, we may feel a dullness or an emptiness, as our physical thirst and hunger are usually met – and met over and beyond what we really need. So, we start looking around for something to make us feel alive. We look for the momentary rush, the ‘high’. Be it certain types of jokes, risk-taking, physical addictions, internet porn, or whatever – it’s the rush we are looking for. It seems to slake the thirst we feel but can’t quite name – if only for a moment. Or does it?
When the woman asks where this man can find flowing water, he asks her about her husband. This might seem like an odd change of topic, but it isn’t. This man – Jesus – is talking about a different kind of thirst that needs a different kind of water. What she is really seeking can’t be fully satisfied by physical water, however fresh it may be. No, whenever we seek to slake this kind of thirst with that kind of solution, we are bound to slide into an addictive mode. We feel momentary relief, or that rush. We try again. The relief or rush is there, but less than we remembered. So, more. And we get still less. And the spiral continues. No real relief in sight. As Jesus says, we’ll have to come again and again for that kind of water, and find no true relief.
No, the problem is that when we seek such relief, we have actually given ourselves over to the wrong god – the wrong husband, so to speak. We have taken something which isn’t bad in itself and tried to make it answer a need it was never meant to meet. Frustration and depression are bound to follow. This woman, we are told, has had five husbands, and the one she has now is not her true Husband. She has known this frustration for a long time. No wonder she has come to the well alone, still searching for something she can’t quite name. The challenge is to find the right Husband – the true God – and open ourselves to the gift of God. And this is just what Jesus is offering.
After all, in the book of Genesis, the town well is the place where marriages are arranged – including the marriage of Jacob’s own parents. Jesus comes to the well to offer himself to the Samaritan woman as her true “husband”, as the One who alone can slake her deepest thirsts and longings with living water – a water that cleanses us of all impurities and that fills us with a life than nothing else can give. The more we receive, the more alive we are, and the more we want. Our hearts grow in the drinking, so that we can receive more and more of what the Lord wishes to give us.
The woman accepts this proposal. She places her faith in this Stranger who is now revealed as the Husband she has always sought but never found. Then, filled with joy, she runs back into the town, leaving her bucket behind. (She needs it no longer; she has living water in her heart.) Others see her joy, and are drawn to meet this Stranger for themselves. They ask Him to stay with them, and he does, for two days. Many of them see for themselves, and also believe. The woman has now become an apostle, an evangelist, for her community. Her witness has helped others open their own hearts to the living water that Jesus offers all who come to Him. Her witness is an inspiration and a challenge to us all. Do we know what our deepest thirst really is? Have we tried to slake it in the wrong ways, choosing the wrong husband? Can we, once again, accept Jesus as the true Husband of our hearts, and once again taste that living water He so generously offers us?
One final thought. At one point in the story, the apostles – who were absent when the woman first approached the well – arrive on the scene. All they can see, at first, is that Jesus has been speaking with someone – a Samaritan and a woman – that they shouldn’t be speaking with. They don’t know what to make of this. They, too, are seeing superficially. Jesus invites them to open their eyes wide and see that the fields all around them are ripe for the harvest. Jesus is now breaking down all the barriers of hostility that have separated people and is creating a new people, where the old rules (slave or free, Jew, Greek or Samaritan, male or female) no longer apply. From now on, all can be one in Christ Jesus. All bear in their hearts the same thirst. All need to taste the same living water. All are invited to believe and be saved. What they need are people who, having met the true Bridegroom and tasted that living water, will announce the coming of the Bridegroom to all, and invite all to the wedding feast. Here, living water cleanses us and gives us a fullness of life and joy that nothing can take from us. Here, we find our deepest thirst and what alone can slake it. Here, we realize that this gift is not merely for ourselves; we can’t truly receive it unless we also share it. Are we ready, like the Samaritan woman (and like the apostles, eventually) to invite others to come to Christ – or, perhaps, to return to Christ – by becoming a part of His people, the Church?