3rd Sunday of Lent

          Now two and a half weeks into our Lent, two and a half weeks into our “desert journey” with Jesus, it is only natural that we should begin to get a little thirsty.  And really all of the readings for this Third Sunday of Lent speak of thirst: the people of Israel thirsted in the desert, in their exodus from Egypt to the promised land; Our Lord Himself thirsted as he came to sit by the well; the woman he encountered there thirsted as she came to draw water in the heat of the day.  And in all of these cases their thirst was satisfied, albeit in some surprising ways.

          First there is the thirst of the Israelites in the desert—this is thirst plain and simple.  They have been wandering in the desert, led by Moses, and leaving Egypt is starting to appear to them to be a bad idea.  They prize their material comfort more than their own freedom, and would rather return to their old slavery.  And yet God does not ignore their cries.  He recognizes their need and so instructs Moses to strike the rock.  And from this object that would normally not produce water, water gushes forth.  Often we find ourselves very much in the position of the Israelites.  We find the Christian life harder than we had imagined when we first set out.  We miss the “comfort” we had when we did not feel particularly beholden to God, and would (some days) rather return to our old slavery to sin.  We forget the tremendous freedom that has been given to us in Christ Jesus and become, instead, fixated on our physical and emotional desires.  We grumble against God.  And yet, God is patient with us and understanding of our needs.  And so, He gives us refreshment, sometimes from the most unlikely of places.

          Then, there is the thirst of Christ Himself.  Jesus, tired from his journey, sits down at Jacob’s well in the Samaritan town of Sychar.  It is about noon, the hottest part of the day, and He notices a lone woman coming to draw water from the well.  He turns to her and says, “Give me a drink.”  Naturally we presume from this that He is physically thirsty, like the Israelites were in the desert.  But we find in the conversation that follows more than just a physical thirst here.  Jesus is thirsting for the soul of this woman, and his asking her for a drink is really just a way to engage her, so that He might save her, and thereby quench both of their thirsts.  His command, “Give me a drink,” reminds us of another time, a little later on, when from the cross Our Lord would say, “I thirst.”  Again, we might presume here a simple physical thirst, but spiritual commentaries and theologians have long seen in these words of Our Lord a deeper desire—a desire for the salvation of humankind.  From the cross Our Lord thirsts for us, just as at the well, He thirsts for the conversion of this woman.  So, Our Lord’s thirst is, indeed, a very different kind of thirst, and one that we should share with Him.  It is a thirst for the good of souls.

          Finally, there is the thirst of this Samaritan woman.  She comes to the well, as she has likely done many times before.  She hopes to quench her thirst from the still water of this cistern.  The water is probably dirty, but it will do, she thinks.  But when Our Lord starts to speak to her about “living water” that does not leave one thirsty again, this sounds much better.  She desires this water even before she really knows what it is or where it comes from. 

The thinking of this Samaritan woman so well matches our own.  Often we keep going back to the same old well, draw the same old dirty water, but we find in it only temporary relief from our thirst.  I have heard and have used the phrase many times myself that often we are “spiritually hungry, but eating from the dumpster.”  In the same way, it could be said that often we are “spiritually thirsty,” but drawing from the same old dirty well, when we could be drinking from the life giving stream of God’s grace.  There is a deeper longing in us—a longing for something, like the woman, we do not even really completely understand.  The true thirst of this woman is only revealed as Jesus leads her to examine her life and as they talk about what it means to worship God “in Spirit and truth,” and about the coming Messiah, who is in reality already present and speaking with her. 

In the course of this encounter, the woman comes to discover that she has been trying to quench her thirst with one bad relationship after another, drawing from the same dirty old well, time and time again, only to find herself still thirsty.  Now in her encounter with Christ, the living waters of His grace begin to well up in her.  And when the disciples return, the Gospel tells us “she left her water jar” and ran into town to tell everyone what had happened to her.  The fact that she left her water jar is no superfluous detail.  That water jar represents all of the ways this woman has previously tried to fulfill the deepest longings of her heart.  Now, in her encounter with Christ, the love of God has been poured out into her heart—to borrow some Saint Paul’s words in our second reading today.  The Samaritan woman’s thirst is a thirst we all experience, and in the end, it is a thirst that can only God can satisfy. 

So, on this Third Sunday of Lent, still wandering as we are in the desert, let us recognize this thirst and turn to Christ, who in turn is thirsting for us.  Let us leave behind those old ways we thought would bring happiness and seek instead that “living water” that Jesus alone can give.  Then will our thirst be quenched, and our souls refreshed for the journey.