What’s your favorite drink? For some it might be Dr. Pepper. Others might suggest scotch and soda. For those who prefer beer, the real question is: where in Texas are they going to hold that party? A few of you might even have thought about water, a glass of cold water, especially when you’re really thirsty. On the other hand, the taste of Houston water is not all that great for a lot of people. So, if you did think about water, you were probably prompted by today’s reading.
This question of your favorite drink is only one of the questions I might have asked about today’s Gospel reading. After all, today’s reading has almost as many questions as you’d find in Murder She Wrote or the new Columbo. So, the focus of today’s reflection becomes a whole series of questions:
● Why did the Samaritan women come to the well at noon?
● What did Jesus mean about “living” water and what did she mean about “flowing” water?
● Why did Jesus suddenly change the subject and talk about her multiple husbands?
● Why did the woman change the subject once more and talk about places of worship?
● Why did the woman suddenly go running back to town?
It goes on and on. There are enough questions raised in John’s Gospel to keep a Bible scholar busy for several hours. But I promise you, this reflection will not be that long.
Let’s begin by looking at the Samaritan woman who came at noon to the well outside the town. It was not an unusual occurrence to come to the well for water. And to bring your own bucket and water jar. She knew none were there. Well-water was precious, not for anyone passing by who might take more water than was deserved. No, you had to bring your own bucket to let down into the cistern. You had to have your own water jar in which to carry it home.
Why at noon? Why in the heat of the day? Most of the villagers drew their water supply in early morning or in early evening when it was cool. That’s when they would gather there. Not only to get their daily supply of water, but almost as important, their daily ration of gossip. We sometimes think the gathering around an office water cooler, or coffee pot is a modern invention. It isn’t. Our need to come together around a drinking spot goes back so far it might even be part of our genetic heritage. It certainly is part of our cultural background.
So, why did the Samaritan woman travel to the well when she knew no one was going to be around? Did she fear the gossip of the others? Was she so much of an outcast she forced herself to go to the well only when she assumed she would be alone? And now what!? Here was a stranger sitting there. From his clothes, she knew, even at a distance, he was a Jew, not a Samaritan. He was one of those who taunted her people. One who would no doubt taunt her even more. And to whom could she turn for help? But what happens? Rather than taunting her, he asks for her help. Who was the last person to ask for her assistance? Who, even, took a personal interest in her?
Thus, our story for today begins. A confusing story to be sure. There are so many unanswered questions. And so many misunderstandings. Was Jesus so unclear that when he offered “living” water, she thought he was offering her some kind of “flowing” water? Then, when he explained he wanted to give her an internal gift that would satisfy her forever, she thought he had some magic water which would slake her physical thirst forever. We listen to the story and smile, at least inwardly, at how naive she was. Wasn’t she really listening? Yet, do we, ourselves, really listen when we are offered the same water?
And we are offered the same water. We, too, approach the well where Jesus sits waiting for us. And we, too, don’t really listen. Are there not times when I feel as if I’m an outcast from all those around me? When I feel I am the subject of all the gossip, all the stories making the rounds? Do I not isolate myself from those around me, either physically, psychologically, emotionally? Am I afraid to go to the well, to draw water when others might be around? When I arrive, am I met by someone I see as a stranger? When I come upon Jesus in a place I do not expect to find him, do I fear the encounter? Finally, when he asks for my help, when he asks me to share what I have with him, do I give some sarcastic reply?
Yet, what is this gift, this “living water” he offers to me to quench my thirst? Do I also need to recall Jesus, too, was thirsty? Do I remember he was waiting at the well for the woman in order to quench his own thirst? What is this thirst Jesus and I share? A thirst we share, yet a thirst only he can quench.
Perhaps, it is the thirst we call “reconciliation.” Jesus thirsts for us, just as much as we thirst for him. Jesus wants us to approach him at the well just as much as we want and need to approach him. The “living water” he offers is reconciliation, harmony with God, with others and within our self. This is the thirst we long to quench.
The woman at the well when offered this water, was also asked a question, a question about her life. The answer to this question was something about which she was not proud. It was an answer that no doubt isolated her from the rest of the town, one which forced her to come to the well, alone, at high noon.
Is it also true that when Jesus offers us the “living water” of healing, of life, of reconciliation, he too, asks a question? Does he ask us, ask me, what is it that keeps me separated from others? Must I be as honest as the woman at the well when I give him my reply? Is this, too, what reconciliation and healing are all about: my need to admit what isolates me from others? With this admission, is it then I can hear that God is not outside of me, not on some high mountain top, not in material things, but rather God can be found in the spirit within me?
At last, when I receive this word, this healing, this inner fountain springing up within me, is it then I can leave my water jar behind, no longer needing some external container, but with my own interior water jar, my soul, overflowing with this living water, hurry back to the community I left in fear? Once back with this community, to have them accept me fully, completely. To have those who gossiped against me, now listen to what I say, to see what I do, and accept me, rather than reject me. Filled with this living water, do I now accept myself, my own goodness? Can I stop rejecting myself, now that I have obtained reconciliation with my God.
Two thousand years ago, a woman approached a well. She left that oasis a changed person. We too approach Jesus the Christ, Jesus the Anointed One, at our own well. He sits there waiting for us. We may feel rejected by others, but he does not reject us. He accepts us where we are. All he asks of us is complete honesty. To admit to him where we have failed, to tell him for what we thirst. And in return, he offers us living water. Once more I would ask you, what is your favorite drink? Could it be the “living water of reconciliation” which Jesus hands to you?
Third Sunday of Lent; February 26, 1989
(Although 1989 is a Cycle C year, the Third Sunday in Lent begins the Scrutinies used for the Rite of Christian Initiation program which uses Cycle A readings.)
Ex 17:3-7; Rom 5:1-2,5-8; Jn 4:4-42