Jesus quietly asks us to take care of those who are thirsty.
This Sunday, the Gospel presents one of Jesus’s most beautiful and moving encounters: his meeting with the Samaritan woman (cf. Jn 4:5-42). Jesus and his disciples stop at a well in Samaria. A woman approaches, and Jesus says to her, ‘Give me a drink’ (v. 8). I would like to focus on these words: ‘Give me a drink.’
The scene shows us a thirsty and tired Jesus. The Samaritan woman finds him at the well at noon, the hottest time of day. Like a beggar, he asks her for refreshment. This is an image of God’s humiliation: God has humbled himself in Jesus Christ to redeem us; he has come to us. In Jesus, God has become one of us; he has humbled himself. He thirsts like us and suffers the same dryness as we do. Contemplating this scene, each of us can say: ‘Lord, Master, he asks me for a drink.’ Is he thirsty like me? Is he thirsty like me? You are truly close to me, Lord! You are connected to my misery, but I cannot believe it. You took me from the lowest place, where no one could reach me, and came to this depth to take me from there, because you thirsted for me and still do” (P. Mazzolari, La Samaritana, Bologna 2022, 55–56). Jesus’ thirst is not only physical; it also expresses the deepest dryness of our lives. Above all, it is a thirst for our love. Jesus is more than a beggar; he thirsts for our love. This is revealed at the culminating moment of the Passion, on the cross, when Jesus says, ‘I thirst’ (Jn 19:28). It is the same thirst for love that led him to humble himself and become one of us.
But the Lord, who asks for a drink, is the one who provides it. In his encounter with the Samaritan woman, he speaks of the living water of the Holy Spirit. On the cross, blood and water flow from his pierced side (cf. Jn 19:34). Thirsty for love, Jesus quenches our thirst with love. He does with us what he did with the Samaritan woman: he enters our daily lives, shares our thirst, and promises us the living water that will give us eternal life (cf. Jn 4:14).
Give me a drink! There is another aspect. These words are not only Jesus’ request to the Samaritan woman, but also an invitation he extends to us every day. He asks us to take care of those who are thirsty. Quench the thirst of others. ‘Give me a drink,’ say so many people in families, at work, and in other places where we often find ourselves. They are thirsty for closeness, attention, and a listening ear. This speaks volumes about how many people are thirsty for the Word of God and need to find an oasis in the Church where they can quench their spiritual thirst. ‘Give me a drink’ is the cry of our society, where haste, consumerism, and, above all, indifference create aridity and inner emptiness. And let us not forget that this plea: Give me a drink — is also the cry of many brothers and sisters who lack the water of life, while we continue to pollute and defile our common home. Exhausted and parched, our common home “thirsts”.Give me a drink! There is another aspect. These words are not only Jesus’ request to the Samaritan woman; they are also an invitation that he sends to us every day. He asks us to take care of those who are thirsty. Quench the thirst of others. ‘Give me a drink,’ say so many people in families, at work, and in other places where we often find ourselves. They are thirsty for closeness, attention, and listening. This speaks volumes about how many people thirst for the Word of God and need to find an oasis in the Church where they can quench their thirst. ‘Give me a drink’ is the cry of our society, where haste, the pursuit of consumerism, and, above all, indifference create aridity and inner emptiness. And let us not forget that this plea: Give me a drink — is also the cry of many brothers and sisters who lack the water of life, while we continue to pollute and defile our common home. Exhausted and parched, it “thirsts”.
In the face of these challenges, today’s Gospel offers us all living water that can enable us to be a source of refreshment for others. Like the Samaritan woman who left her jar at the well and went to tell the villagers (cf. v. 2), we no longer think only of quenching our own thirst — including our intellectual and cultural thirst — but, thanks to the joy of encountering the Lord, we quench the thirst of others and give meaning to their lives. We do this not as masters, but as servants of the Word of God that quenched our thirst and continues to do so. In this way, we will understand their thirst and be able to share the love that God has given us. I ask myself and you this question: Are we able to understand others’ thirst? The thirst of people, the thirst of the many members of my family, and the many people around me? So today, we can ask ourselves: Do I thirst for God, and do I recognise that I need his love as I need water? And once I have quenched my own thirst, do I care about the thirst of others? Spiritual thirst or material thirst?
May the Virgin Mary intercede for us and support us on our journey.
Hello. And Bye.