THIRD SUNDAY OF LENT Cycle "A"

THIRD SUNDAY OF LENT

Cycle “A”: The Samaritan Woman

Introduction: When Jesus asked the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well for some water to drink,

He was actually expressing the thirst of God for every man and woman, and to awaken in our hearts the desire for the gift of the “spring of water within welling up for eternal life” (Jn 4,14). Only the water, given by the Son of God, can satisfy our restless hearts, which sin and worldly joys could not do.

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.

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.