Dear Sisters and Brothers,
On this Third Sunday of Lent, we find ourselves at a well.
In the Bible, as much as we know from our own local traditions, wells are places of encounter — and very often, they end in marriage.
Think of the Old Testament:In the Book of Genesis 24, Abraham sends his servant to find a wife for his son Issac, and the servant prays for a sign at a well. Rebekha arrives and offers water to him and his camels. This act of hospitality confirms that she is chosen.
In Genesis 29, Jacob arrives in Haran and meets Rachel at a well covered by a stone, and he helps uncover the stone—and they fall in love.
In Book of Exodus 2, Moses meets the daughters of Jethro at a well in Midian—and later he marries one of them, Zipporah.
So, in Scripture, when you see a well, you almost expect a wedding.
So, when Jesus sits by the well in Samaria and asks a woman for a drink, every Jewish listener, including his disciples, who were rightly amazed at seeing him talking to a woman at the well, would recognize this pattern.
But this marriage is different. It is a love story. But not the kind we expect.
Jesus is not looking for a bride in the romantic sense. He is revealing Himself as the Bridegroom of her human soul.
Jesus sees the woman completely and knows her past fully well. And yet — He does not shame her. He names her brokenness — but He does not reject her. He not only reveals her thirst but also offers her the living water.
This is the difference. At other wells, a man meets a woman, and love begins through attraction and promise. Here, love begins through truth and mercy.
See the paradox: while it is Jesus who asks for water, it is the woman who is quenched of her thirst.
So, dear sisters and brothers,
Lent is like coming to the well.
We come with our thirst – from our various walks of life… from mountains of transfigurations, glory, and lights, to our deserts of temptations, doubts, confusions, and struggle, as we have seen last weeks; from our Jordans of clarity, assuredness, identity, to our calvaries of suffering, hunger, misunderstanding, rejection as we are eventually going to see in the coming week.
But with Christ as our well, the Well of Truth, we realize something essential, and that is where the divine romance happens.
That’s where the Samaritan woman leaves her water jar behind — a symbol of her old thirsts— and runs to the village with a new thirst.
She becomes the first missionary in John’s Gospel. This is what falling in love with Christ truly is.
The Samaritan woman’s life does not instantly become simple. But her heart changes because she has encountered Someone who sees her fully and loves her anyway.
This is the heart of Lent.
We are not simply “giving things up.” We are learning to love differently.
We are learning to love Jesus, who not only says “Give me some water to drink” at the well, but also who cries, “I thirst” on the Cross.
Today, we are living in a complex moment in American history and in the world. There is polarization, uncertainty, social tensions, economic anxiety, wars, and deep cultural shifts. Many people are tired. Many are thirsty. And Jesus is thirsty. Christ remains seated at the well, and he is thirsty. He remains hanging on the Cross, and her is thirsty.
It is tempting to react with fear. With anger. With withdrawal.
But the Gospel today invites us into something deeper:
Not just moral reform—but love.
Not to condemn—but to converse.
Not to strike—but to heal.
Not to accuse—but to invite.
Today, imagine yourself at that well.
Jesus looks at you—at your history, your struggles, your unspoken fears, about the future of this country, the Church, this world.
And He says: “Give me a drink.”Will you quench his thirst today,
No comments:
Post a Comment