Homily for the Third Sunday of Lent, [using readings from Yrs A & C]

My task today in preaching is a bit like when I put something together for

either Easter or Christmas. On a normal Sunday, the readings are the same,

whether it is the Saturday Vigil Mass or the Sunday morning Mass, but at

Easter you have the Easter Vigil, with many readings, and then the Easter

Sunday Mass having different readings, and at Christmas, there are the two

different Masses for Christmas Eve and two different Masses for Christmas

Day, making up four different sets of readings. This weekend we have the First

Scrutiny taking place at the Vigil Mass, which requires using the Year A

readings, but then for the Sunday Masses we are using the Year C readings, in

part because those are the ones on the Sunday Mass sheet. So I’ve got to try

and say something that fits the readings, whichever Mass you are coming to

this weekend.

One of the overall themes is that we all need to repent, no matter who we are,

from the homeless man in the street, to the Pope in Rome, and everyone else in-

between. There’s always the danger of wanting to relax, to think that we have

made it, and to just freewheel or coast along, without realising that our spiritual

life is slowing down and we are going off the boil and becoming lukewarm.

Another danger with thinking that we have got it all made, is that we then use

our energies to look for faults in others, rather than concentrating on ourselves.

We can become like fig trees that are producing no fruit; we’re otherwise good

and healthy trees, but we’ve not been planted exclusively for locking away

carbon; we’re supposed to be producing figs. God, in His mercy, is giving us

another chance; Lent is here to help us to break through our complacency.

But it’s not a DIY job. It’s not just a matter of trying a bit harder, putting in

more effort, or even finding specialist help. If we are to grow in divine life, we

can’t invent that by ourselves. We need that to come from God. It’s a bit like

when Moses encountered the Lord in the burning bush: it wasn’t a nice magic

trick for him to enjoy and then go home; God had a mission for him – go to my

broken people in slavery in Egypt and tell them God has heard their cry and

now He is going to work miracles and lead them out of their slavery. Think of

the great sense of expectation and hope this must have brought the Israelites

when they first heard it. As we probably know, God worked various miracles

through Moses and Aaron, and Pharaoh was very slow to be convinced. It was

only, finally, with the death of his son, that Pharaoh told them all to leave him,

afraid that he might be dead next. One of the things that can sometimes strike

us about the characters in the Bible is that they are so realistic, and that there is

nothing new under the sun – technology may have changed, politics may have

changed and so on, but people’s humanity remains the same, still full of the

same worries, doubts, fears, expectations, hopes and joys as today.

When Christ encountered the Samaritan woman at the well, there was a lot of

background to this encounter. The Samaritans, yes, didn’t get on with the

Jews, a bit like the situation in the past between Protestants and Catholics in

Northern Ireland. They were both of the same faith origin, but, and I only

discovered this on Friday, the Samaritans didn’t accept all of the Scriptures that

were held holy by the Jews. We’ll come back to that in a few moments.

If we’re looking at the theme of repentance and the call to conversion, the

Samaritan woman was something of an outcast in society. She came to the well

at “about the sixth hour”, which is midday, when only mad dogs and

Englishmen are around because of the blazing sun. She goes to gather water at

a time when she hopes no one else will see her.

The Lord, when He encounters her, is thirsty for the blossoming of her faith,

and He draws her gradually to come to believe in Him. He doesn’t shy away

from addressing the topics that need to be faced. He shows her He is aware of

the failures in her personal life, and that leads her to actually trust in Him as

some sort of prophetic figure from whom she wants advice. On the religious

question between Jews and Samaritans, she asks, should we worship here or in

Jerusalem? He tells her: “You worship what you do not know; we worship

what we know, for salvation is from the Jews” – true ecumenism means we

need to confront the truth and build on a solid foundation, rather than ignoring

important issues and just saying nice things to each other. As I mentioned

earlier, the Samaritans only have the first five books of the Old Testament, so

they are unaware of all the prophecies about the coming of the Messiah. But

what leads to her conversion is not just plain asserting of the truth, but also the

compassion that goes with it, and we can so easily give the one without the

other, supposed love or truth, but we don’t always manage to get the two to fit

together in the way that Our Lord does.

We need conversion, and we are like the Samaritan woman. We need the love

of Christ, and the truth He brings. Then, at last, the Scriptures are brought to

their fulfilment, and our conversion becomes a much easier thing.

Curious about exploring things further?  If you would like to ask further questions about the topics raised in these homilies (or maybe think it wasn’t explained too well!), please feel free to e-mail Fr Michael at stjoseph.thame@rcaob.org.uk