Pastor’s Note for the 3rd Sunday of Lent: The Woman at the Well
“Well?”
Is that a request for directions to the nearest source of water or a request for a response? In today’s Gospel it’s actually both. A Samaritan woman, as she is approaching the well with her empty pitcher, is surprised to see a man sitting there. She purposely came at this time each day to avoid seeing anyone, knowing that no one would want to be there at the hottest time of the day. Who was this man? Should I turn back? Even at a distance, there was something about His presence and demeanor that let her know there was nothing to fear.
"Well?"
Why did she come here each day? What was she looking for? What are we looking for? She was thirsty. She was looking for water. Her survival depended on that well. It was enough to keep her body going for another day. She was grateful for the relief it provided. Yet, she thirsted for something far greater than the water her body craved. Her spirit was like a plant withering up inside of her under a hot desert sun, parched, dry, and lifeless. No matter how many times she came to lower her bucket into that well, there was nothing the world could offer to quench that thirst other than what she could pour into her empty pitcher. Today, right next to that old, familiar well, a new well was waiting for her, one with heavenly waters waiting to be poured into her heart. Her survival depended on that well. She would never thirst again.
But why was her life so dry and parched? Jesus knew that she had been drinking from polluted wells. These tepid, diseased filled waters left her thirstier and emptier with each sip. The burden of her sins weighed heavy on her heart. They left her feeling lost, isolated, alone, ashamed, and rejected. The harsh judgments and indifference of others was even colder than the water from the well and more painful than anything else. She was dying of thirst. No one cared…no one cried…no one came for her…until that day at the well.
Like the woman at the well, Jesus meets us where we are at and as we are. Rather than lower her bucket into the depths of the earth for worldly water, Jesus was inviting her to put down her pitcher and to open her heart to receive the heavenly waters from the wellspring of His heart. In other words, He was asking her to place her trust in Him and not in the world. Only He could offer the waters of mercy and forgiveness that would bring her the fruit of peace, joy, and new life that she thirsted for. As the Samaritan woman begins to open the doors to her heart a little at a time like the flood gates of old, in the intimacy of this prayerful encounter, she is able to see and to accept Jesus not as a stranger, but as her Savior. The springs of new life brought spring to her heart and a spring to her step as she raced back to town with the good news about her encounter at the well. “Where is your pitcher,” they asked, noticing her empty hands. “I’ll show you,” she said. “Come to the well!”
Almost halfway through Lent, like the woman in today’s Gospel, perhaps we are recognizing our own dryness…our own thirst. This thirst is a participation in the thirst of Christ on the cross who cried out, “I thirst!” Come to the well! He is waiting for us in confession to pour the gift of His mercy into our hearts with the words, “Your sins are forgiven!” He is waiting for us at Mass to pour Himself into our hearts with the invitation to “Take and drink…this is My Blood.” Our Lord asks of us, what He asked of the woman when she first approached Him at the well, “I thirst! Will you give me a drink?”