THE ABANDONED JUG
8 March 2026
(Ex 17:3-7; Rom 5:1-2,5-8; Jn 4:5-42)
The wonderful encounter on this Third Sunday of Lent between the Lord Jesus and the Samaritan woman is surely one of the towering masterpieces of biblical narrative. In the most palpable way possible, it represents nothing less than the face-to-face encounter between the Incarnate Word and sinful humanity, so desperately in need of salvation. Jesus of Nazareth, who walks on the land of Israel with his feet of flesh and bone received from his blessed Mother, and who is himself thirsty and hungry after trudging all these miles from Jerusalem to Sychar—this same Jesus is the eternal Logos in whom and for whom everything was created in the beginning. And this remarkable woman of Samaria embodies the whole of humanity, the men and women of every historical moment and every geographical location. The passionate dialogue that follows between Jesus and the woman impacts us as a summary of the entire history of salvation. Each of us this morning should make the effort of imagination and will of becoming this Samaritan woman so that we, too, can encounter our Lord in the intimacy of our souls, and be saved by the encounter.
Let’s not forget, in the first place, that God’s grace always precedes all our own feelings, thoughts and actions. God’s grace always comes to us, mysteriously, ahead of anything else, while we are still sinners, even before we become aware of our sinful condition and begin to desire forgiveness. This is the central theme that runs through all three readings today. On a certain blessed midday, a poor solitary woman went to Jacob’s well just outside the hamlet of Sychar in Samaria, to draw water; she went at that sun-scorched moment of the day to avoid the glances of others, who scorned her as a great public sinner. At that moment combining stress, shame and exhaustion, she could not have known that at that very same time, in total synchrony with her, the Son of God had already mapped out for himself a route through Samaria, with the intention of making his journey as the weary Savior of the world converge with the journey of the woman, who was so weary from both her sin and her ostracism.
The Samaritan thought she was alone, isolated, abandoned; but that was not, in fact, true. All the while Jesus was already seeking her and loving her, without her knowing it! Her climax of disgrace and drudgery became a kairós of salvation with Jesus’ arrival on the scene. At the well, Jesus breaks into her awful solitude, so that it is two weary people who meet and gradually come to recognize each other through a dialogue of mutual attraction. From all eternity, the divine Word had already been making his way toward this woman, to take her as his mystical bride, as a figure of the Church and of each one of us!
In the Book of Exodus, we see that the people are dying of thirst in the desert, and they mutter against Moses and, through him, against God himself. The Israelites do what is strictly forbidden by the first commandment: they protest against God’s plan and test the Lord. Two weeks ago in the desert, the devil tried to seduce Jesus with the same temptation. Moses cries out today to the Lord because he does not see a way out of the situation. But God carries on with his plan of salvation against all human opposition. He shows his mercy by responding favorably to the murmuring of his people, even though it was a great sin. How can the God of compassion not be magnanimous in the face of people dying of thirst? God answers them by bringing water out of the hardest and driest rock. This detail from Exodus then becomes the main theme of the story of salvation in the Gospel, the theme that contains everything else: namely, that God always brings the water of his life out of the hard rock of our hearts.
In the second reading, from Romans, St Paul takes up the same theme in different language when he states that God has given us his grace without us deserving it in any way. Christ died for us not because we were “good” or “righteous”. Beyond all our understanding, Christ died for us while we were still sinners, rebels against God. Who would ever conceive of dying for an enemy? Only God! Already at that moment, he called us his “friends”, for whom he wanted to die in order to show us his love. We must believe what is truly incredible: that God imagined us as his friends when we were still his enemies! And yet we become his friends only by virtue of his Son’s death, when God’s love was poured into our hearts from Jesus’ pierced side, when he breathed his last on the cross and, by breathing his last, breathed his Holy Spirit into us.
These first two readings prepare us for Jesus’ extraordinary conversation with the woman at the well. It is the longest, most detailed and most profound dialogue Jesus has with anyone in all four Gospels. And it is not a parable: it is a lived historical narrative. In the course of this riveting dialogue, Jesus does three great things for the woman. First of all, he requests of the woman that she give him a drink. What a paradox! The Incarnate Word feels tired from walking so far in our flesh, and so he asks a fellow human being for help! He does not come to us as a triumphant king riding on a white stallion. Divine omnipotence, because it is all love, approaches us in the form of weakness: here the mystery of the cross already glimmers. When Jesus then says to the woman, Give me a drink, this burning thirst on the part of the Word anticipates the cry of Jesus crucified: I thirst. Yes, Jesus is always thirsty for our faith, for our love. Jacob’s well emerges here as a prefiguration of the Lord’s pierced side, from which blood and water will flow on Good Friday. In Jesus, God gives himself to us as a suffering man. Eternal life, which is his property, comes to us in him hidden deep within his human weakness. Of course, at this point the sinful woman does not understand this gift to her of Jesus’ weakness, but neither does she refuse his request.
The second great grace Jesus gives the woman is his offer of living water to her, that is, the heavenly gift of eternal life, in ironical exchange for her gift to him of earthly water. The sinner understands this offer least of all! Only the third grace begins to penetrate her heart: it is the confession of sin that Jesus grants the woman from the depths of his own know-ledge of her. Only now is she ready to accept the word of the One she herself proclaims to be a “prophet”. At this stage of the dialogue, the theme becomes the worship of God. After the initial two steps, and still guided by Jesus’ word, the woman now catapults from the depths of sin to the heights of contemplation in her desire to worship in Spirit and Truth. She can now finally welcome Jesus into her heart as he reveals himself to her as the Messiah, the Christ of God.
At the conclusion of the drama, the water of grace has penetrated to the depths of the sinful soul, has purified her, and has suddenly stimulated her to engage, surprisingly, in a truly apostolic action among her townspeople. Being now full of Christ’s grace, she casually abandons the jug of her original intention at the well’s edge, since she no longer needs to draw material water by her own effort. The abundant apostolic fruit of proclaiming the Gospel springs spontaneously out of the woman and demonstrates the authenticity of her conversion. Above all else, she now burns to share with the whole world the liberation she has received from Jesus. The woman instantly accepts Jesus’ accusation regarding her five so-called “husbands”; but her acceptance of the accusation and her repentance are almost a minor detail compared to the action of grace, which God has been pouring into her since the beginning of her existence. The grace of God given by Jesus, the grace of God that is Jesus, is the true protagonist of the story, and not the woman. Amazingly transformed from repentant sinner into ardent apostle in the course of one poignant conversation, she now hurries to her fellow citizens to announce the Gospel to them. She wants them, too, to believe and know the joy of salvation given to her by Jesus.
Today, my brothers and sisters, the sacramental mystery of the Sacred Liturgy transforms Whitethorn into Sychar. Our little chapel here, lost in the backwoods of the Lost Coast, becomes the site of our Jacob’s well. We, make no mistake about it, are today that Samaritan woman. Today the long-suffering and weary Jesus has come to seek out and find us in our own weariness and despair, so that we might drink from the abundant water of eternal life from his pierced Heart—the water of his love and compassion, poured into our hearts along with his Body and Blood at this Eucharist. Let us rejoice and be glad!