THIRD SUNDAY OF LENT "A"

THIRD SUNDAY OF LENT

Cycle “A”: The Samaritan Woman

Jesus repeatedly ignored the religious and cultural etiquette about man-woman relationship. He conversed at length with a foreign woman at a wayside well, a woman to whom he had not even been properly introduced. This Samaritan woman appeared to be a shrewd but world-weary individual. The window that Jesus opened to her past suggested that she had had a racy youth, seeking happiness in successive marriages. (How very modern.) But now the glamour and excitement had gone and she found herself left out by the other women of the village, forced to collect water alone.

She is initially suspicious of Jesus’ approach, but after his offer of  “living water”, she realises he is a deeply religious man. She adopts a tone of gentle irony, pointing out that he hasn’t got a bucket. However, a spring of living water would be very convenient and save her a lot of labour. But Jesus cuts through her shield of dry humour by his divine knowledge of her past history. By disclosing details of her personal life, he won her faith so that, like many other Samaritans in that town, she came to acknowledge him as ‘the Saviour of the world’ (v. 42). The woman had the courage to be honest, and this moves the conversation to a deeper level. She asks the religious questions that puzzled her: “Where is God to be worshipped ?” “Who’s right: the Jews or the Samaritans ?”  Jesus awakens a deeper longing in her for the Messiah. Seeing her honest openness, Jesus reveals himself as the Messiah, and he does it with a directness that not even his disciples have yet experienced. So, in striking up a conversation with the Samaritan woman, Jesus demolished another barrier of a social restraint. When we try to liberate people , we break down the walls separating people on grounds of caste, class, wealth and gender.

We can discern the originality of Jesus’ behaviour. While not denying the past, he welcomed the future; in fact, he was creating a new future for us. Jesus was never bound up by “a priori” prejudices. He watched, he listened, and he understood that the woman, her attitudes, answers, protests, expectations, her faith, all went to show him that she too was ready for the Kingdom of God. So he could speak about the new water that he would give her. In the meantime he gave her a catechetical instruction on the Holy Spirit and sanctifying grace  -  something that he had not done for his own disciples. It again goes to show that the Gospel is for everybody, and it is not surprising that non-Christians sometimes accuse us of betraying it. Jesus completed his Father’s work in the woman by giving her the living water of sanctifying grace. He wants to do the same with us: he wants to bring us into the state of grace where we are living fully the life of the Spirit. This water takes us out of death (sin, isolation, ignorance of God); it leads us into life (forgiveness, knowledge of God’s love, a living relationship with him).

Jesus called for the removal of the “line of control” between human beings. And today he also draws attention to the obstacle between ourselves and the future  -  the unexpected future that lies outside the territory of our  present habits, our likings, our ideas. God is not a fixed point. His work is not a monotonous repetition. Our God is the God of Exodus, the living God who awakens ever new and often surprising forms of life.

We need not deny our past. But let us get out of it and be better than the past. A growing child remains the same creature while being transformed all the time. So it is with each one of us, with all communities of faith, and with the Church. A church that does not renew itself is doomed. True fidelity to the past involves openness to the future. Jesus proclaimed it in public places. “The Kingdom of God is at hand. It’s here. You can feel its pressure.” And he added, “So, repent.” Or “Change your hearts.” If we want to follow Christ we are vowed to daily conversion, to a change of heart, a melting of those hardened attitudes towards certain people.

This season of Lent is the time to question every aspect of our life. I repeat, every aspect; not pick and choose what we are going to question and leave certain facets unchallenged because they’re too irksome to handle. We are called upon to adapt every dimension of our being to the needs of the future. Jesus, ahead of us, is always a figure on the horizon, a figure crossing the frontiers. Our society, our whole world, our church, are living through a transitional period unparalleled in history. Never has Jesus’ call been more pressing: “Change your hearts.”

See the beautiful butterflies emerging from their cocoons. We musn’t be afraid to see the cocoons breaking open to the springtime sun. For it is springtime. The Italian poet Dante’s lines are intended for us, for every day of our lives:

“Don’t you see ?

We are caterpillars born to make

that angelic butterfly

that flies freely towards justice.”

PRAYER: by Michel Quoist

To be there before you, Lord, that’s all.

To shut the eyes of my body,

To shut the eyes of my soul,

And be still and silent,

To expose myself to you who are there,

exposed to me.

To be there before you, the Eternal Presence.

I am willing to feel nothing, Lord,

to see nothing, to hear nothing.

empty of all ideas, of all images.

In the darkness,

Here I am, simply,

To meet you without obstacles,

In the silence of faith,

Before you, Lord.

THIRD SUNDAY LENT “A”

John 4:5-42

On this Third Sunday of Lent, the Scripture presents two powerful stories about thirst--thirst for water. The Israelites thirst in the desert was so great that Moses feared for his life. So God told Moses to strike a rock--and water gushed forth.      It satisfied them for a while.

In the Gospel, Jesus breaks the law to speak to a Samaritan woman who had come to Jacob's well to draw water. She was a passionate woman who had tried every kind of pleasure, but none had satisfied. What a surprise, when Jesus, tired, hungry and thirsty, asks her for a drink of water! He broke all the rules in speaking to her. Now, He keeps on talking, ignoring her hostility, aware that, in this unexpected encounter, the Father has provided Him with an opportunity for piercing the heart of this sinful woman with His love.

Jesus suggests that He can give her living water that is far superior to anything she had ever tasted. Certainly her five husbands (plus her newest lover) haven't brought her what she is really looking for. We know that she had tried cheap love, and we presume she was no stranger to intoxication, power, and money! This isn't a gentle lady who comes to draw water from the well, but a toughened cynic. No wonder she is rude to this travel-dusty Jew, whom she is sure will avoid her with downcast eyes. Jews despised Samaritans who worshipped God on the wrong mountain. But Jesus doesn't follow the accepted prejudice!

Jesus forgets His own needs, and offers this woman living water, spiritual grace. Incredible! Finding her heart curious and open to this miraculous water, He proceeds to raise her vision. He asks her to go back and bring her husband to the well with her. Of course, this is the turning point of the story. When He confronts her with the truth, she could have flounced off in righteous indignation and denial--but she doesn't. In humility, she accepts the reality of her sordid life. Because of her humility, Jesus floods her soul with grace. Dropping her bucket, she runs back to spread the good news. "I've found the Messiah!" And she had!

Lent is a time for us to let Jesus satisfy our thirst. Like that woman, we too have tried the wrong kinds of water to quench our thirst for happiness, satisfaction, and peace of mind without really finding it. Now is the time for us to find real joy and satisfaction in letting the Lord fill us with the grace of the season. Like her, we will find that our joy is greatest when we share that gift with others--joining in a study or prayer group, visiting a nursing home, being patient with our family members, and really listening to them, praying from the heart in a quiet place, reflecting on the Word privately or at daily Mass, and letting the Eucharist change us into the Body of Christ.

The Samaritan woman never did give Jesus a drink of water as He had requested. Do we stop to realize that Jesus' thirst for our love is even greater than our thirst for His love? I guess only saints understand that. It's what gives them the energy to pour themselves out in ministry up to their last breath.

Next Sunday, Lent will be half over. A question: Are we satisfied with what we have done so far to let Jesus fulfill our desires? We need to check out our habits of prayer, our penances, our almsgiving. And what are we planning for the remainder of Lent? It's all about quenching our thirst for life, shunning the type of thirst-quencher that doesn't really satisfy, and earnestly begging Jesus to give us His Living Water.

By Eliana Neufeld Basinger, a junior social work major from Findlay, Ohio Scripture: John 4:5-42 (NRSV)

  Most of us are familiar with the story of the woman at the well. We know about Jesus’ knowledge of the woman’s life and his offer of living water. Sometimes I wish we were less familiar with Bible stories. Not really, because we can’t truly follow Jesus without knowing what his life on Earth was like, but if we were less familiar with certain stories, they might have more ability to shock us, to draw us in. This week’s theme is “Restore us, O God! We thirst.” If we peel back the layers of familiarity, this is a story that makes us thirst more for Jesus. The woman at the well thirsts for many things: she thirsts for knowledge about the right place to worship, and she thirsts to know more about what Jesus has to say. In fact, she not only thirsts, she finds this man so compelling that she goes back to her city to tell everyone about this prophet – or maybe even Messiah – to whom she has spoken.

Can we thirst for Jesus in the same way the woman did? It’s easier to feel that thirst if we try to approach this story as if we were reading it for the first time. Here Jesus is, talking theology with a Samaritan woman, someone he wouldn’t be expected to interact with or take seriously. This Lent, may we be able to see the strangeness of Jesus, the ways in which he pushes cultural boundaries. May we be able to look beyond the surface of the familiar stories and be drawn in by Jesus, who confuses our expectations. May we be so compelled that our lives speak of this Jesus.

This week we hear in the gospel reading the story of Jesus, tired, hot and thirsty, sitting straight down at the well. Give me a drink. This is not the social call of If Jesus Came to My House, and it is not the spiritual equivalent of a room inspection. Can I believe that the Lord needs something from me? Can I believe that his need is greater than my need to be ready for him? 

More than that, can I trust that what the Lord wants is not something that I have prepared, but what is really flowing in me – in my life, my thoughts, my fears and desires?

This is not just a nice image, it is the reality of prayer. This is the good news, that “Christ died for us while we were still sinners” (Romans 5:8) – in other words, before we were ready. Christ is already sitting on the well of my life, tired, hot and thirsty. 

Can I accept this encounter of unreadiness? Can I trust that this encounter of unreadiness between myself and the Lord is itself the gift that God is offering, the greatest “if only you knew” of my life? Can I believe that allowing the Lord to encounter me, a sinner, without preparation, will uncover in me a spring that will never run dry?

Walk past the tap. Go down to the creek. More than what you have prepared, Jesus wants what flows.