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This morning I would like to share with you a story that helps reveal the
power of today’s Gospel. The story is about a man who was arrested and
convicted of political treason some three hundred years ago in England. The
convict was sentenced to death and placed in a castle dungeon with many other
prisoners where they awaited his execution.
The night before he was to die, the guards bound these prisoners in chains
along with many other prisoners who were being prepared for public execution. In
the morning light, they were to be transported to the public square for a
spectacle of violence for all to see. As shackles were placed on the prisoners’
hands and legs, all of the prisoners except one plummeted into despair. This
particular prisoner, however, secretly rejoiced as the chains were tightened
around his wrists and ankles. For a few brief hours, he felt the thrill of
opportunity and hope. But his relief and optimism lasted only until morning
light when he, too, plunged into despair.
What was the source of his momentary optimism? Why did he feel a few fleeting
hours of hope? What caused this fleeting feeling of euphoria to suddenly
disappear?
The man was a blacksmith by trade, and he knew well the properties and
qualities of metal. Under the cover of darkness, he examined each and every link
of chain, desperately feeling for flaws. If he found a weak link in the chain,
he could easily attempt escape. But in the first morning light, as the sun’s
first rays came through a tiny, barred window, this prisoner’s hope was dashed
as well. In the light, he saw a tiny trademark forged into each link of the
chain, and the trademark was his own. He had forged the very chains holding him,
and he knew that his work was flawless. The storyteller concludes the story with
these sobering words: "There is no chain so hard to break than those of our
own making. There is no chain so binding as those we have crafted
ourselves" (Storyteller: Anthony Castle).
No one here is a stranger to sin. Each of us knows well the failures and sin
that bind us, hold us captive, and keep us from following the Lord in freedom
and peace. We need look no further than our own hearts and lives to witness the
power of sin and the radical need for forgiveness and a change of heart. That is
why the scripture indicts the whole human family in strong and strident words:
"If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in
us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive our sins
and cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (John 8,9). This side of the
grave, no one is immune to sin and the effects of sin. The season of Lent bids
us to look deeply into our lives and identify those failings and weaknesses that
keep us from loving and serving Christ in freedom and peace.
Today we have seen one of the most vivid scenes of sin and forgiveness found
in the Gospel. The story of the woman at the well is the story of a soul
struggling with the slavery of sin and sadness. In a seemingly chance encounter,
Jesus offers the Samaritan woman freedom from her sins and the promise of
eternal life.
We are used to seeing Jesus speaking to multitudes of people, gathering with
hordes of disciples or teaching the multitudes on hillsides and city squares. We
cannot miss the point of this Gospel. Jesus has turned his attention to the
struggle of a single soul who is longing for happiness and meaning in her life.
That woman is the story of you and me, encountering the power of Jesus Christ
and gradually realizing whom it is who is speaking to her. In the words of the
Book of Revelation: "Behold I stand at the door and knock." This is
the story of Christ, standing at the doors of our hearts, offering us freedom
from sin and struggle, and offering us the waters of everlasting life.
The woman’s eyes are gradually opened, and she comes to understand who it
is who offers her the living water of salvation. Watch her understanding
progress as her conversation progresses. First, she identifies Jesus only as a
Jewish man. In the middle of her conversation, she says, "I can see you are
a prophet." In the grand finale of this story, Christ reveals his full
identity to a struggling sinner: "The woman said to Him, I know that the
Messiah is coming, the one called the Christ; when He comes, He will tell us
everything." Jesus said to her, "I am He, the one speaking to
you." Her growing awareness is akin to the story of our own lives. Christ
is opening our eyes to see him more clearly, to love him more dearly, to follow
him more nearly, day by day.
In the course of his conversation with the Samaritan woman, Jesus laid bare
her soul and saw deep into her heart. Standing in the light of the Son, the
woman’s tragic life of sin and struggle and her craving for love was revealed.
In the blinding light of Jesus, the woman could no longer hide from her sins.
Jesus said to her, "Go call your husband and come back to the well."
Unwittingly, the woman answered and said to Jesus: "I do not have a
husband." Jesus answered her, "You are right in saying ‘I do not
have a husband,’ for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is
not your husband." The woman attempted to give ambiguous and deceptive
answers to the questions asked by Jesus. But at the end of the day, her very
words betrayed her sinful situation.
In the presence of Christ, the woman’s sins have been revealed. Both she
and we become transparent in the presence of Jesus. He spoke these words to her,
not to cause her embarrassment or humility, but rather to lead her from darkness
into the light of grace and love. She attempted to quench her thirst for love,
happiness and meaning by succumbing to vice and the glittering deceit of the
evil one. Jesus offered her the living water of grace and peace. In the words of
Isaiah: "Come to the water all who are thirsty. Come eat and drink, you who
have no money." His words are meant for you and me.
There is a second and less obvious meaning embedded deep in the Gospel of the
Samaritan woman. This is not only a story about the struggles of an individual
sinner. It is a story about the very condition of the whole human race and God’s
desire to redeem us through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. "Sin
is not simply a weakness that can be overcome, but a condition from which we can
be saved." Original Sin is a fundamental disorder that lies behind all
moral and spiritual dis-ease.
The writings of Thomas Aquinas and many of the early Church fathers reflect a
meaning that goes far beyond Jesus’ concern and pity for a single sinner.
Aquinas proposes that the constant reference to the living water is the symbol
for baptism and the freedom that comes to the sons and daughters of Adam who
have been overcome by the power of Original Sin. That is why Jesus says to the
Samaritan woman: "If you knew the gift of God and who is saying to you, ‘Give
me a drink,’ you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living
water…."
The Church has always taught that the misery and sin that oppresses the whole
human race and our very inclination toward evil and death is fundamentally
connected with the sin of Adam. That is why the Catechism teaches that
Original Sin "transmitted to us a sin with which we are all born afflicted,
a sin which is the ‘death of the soul’" (Council of Trent).
It is precisely here that we turn our eyes and hearts to Christ who loves us
with an everlasting love and who became the "new Adam:" "The
water I shall give will become in you a spring of water welling up to eternal
life."
It is Christ who dispelled the power of death and opened for us the gates to
everlasting life. Christ became "obedient unto death, even death on the
cross (Corinthians 15:21-22). No longer do sin and death have the final say, but
rather, the words of St. Paul: "Where sin increased, grace abounded all the
more." That is why we sing with joy and exuberance, "Amazing grace,
how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me." This is why the Church
sings joyfully the words of St. Thomas Aquinas each time the Exultet is sung at
the Easter Vigil: "O happy fault…[Felix Culpa]…..which gained
for us so great a Redeemer."
The word "Lent" comes from the middle English "Lentening,"
literally the lengthening of days, that time of year when the darkness and sleep
of winter give way to the bright hope of springtime and new life. It is in this
season of the year that we remember with joy the tender mercies of our God,
"who desires not the death of a sinner," but rather offers to us the
gift of forgiveness and the hope of eternal life. In a powerful encyclical, Dives
in Misericordia, which means "rich in mercy," Pope John Paul has
written these encouraging words: "It is to the poor and oppressed, but
especially to sinners, that the Messiah becomes a sign of God who is love, a
sign of the Father." Christ reveals God as one who is rich in mercy, one
who calls you and me by name.
In this holy season of Lent, I echo the words of the Holy Father’s Lenten
message: "Lent is a precious opportunity to draw closer to Him, turning
inward, and listening to his voice within us." He is offering to release us
from the bonds of sin and sadness and from the sinful patterns of our life.
Through the waters of baptism, He has shattered the shackles of Original Sin and
has opened the gates of heaven to those who follow Him in faith. Through prayer,
self-denial, the grace of sacramental confession, He offers us the way to renew
our hearts and souls and prepare for a holy and grace-filled Easter. I invite
you to "open wide the doors of your hearts" and let Christ’s loving
mercy enter in. He is calling you and me to conversion and a change of heart.
By His cross and resurrection, He has truly set us free. He is the Savior of
the world!
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