In Samaritanam in die mediae pentecostes

On the Samaritan Woman. On the Day of Mid-Pentecost. So today, beloved, as divine grace grants, let us set our hands to the evangelical treasures. For the love of learning concerning these things adorns the soul and extends earthly habit toward heaven. Indeed, love of learning transformed that wondrous Samaritan woman from a water-carrier into one inspired; for, finding a treasure of teachings, she passed by—or rather, she did not find it, but was found. For Christ did not ascend to be sought out by the zeal of those in need, but he himself travailed in aid for each one; he was constrained, caring for the paralyzed, sympathizing with the feverish, appropriating the condition of the blind, bearing concern for lepers, running to the help of the possessed, cleansing the sullied souls of all, a teacher to women carrying water. For then, weary from the journey, he sat down by the well. "For Jesus," it says, "weary from the journey, sat thus at the spring. It was about the sixth hour." An insatiable greed for philanthropy: first, that he grew weary, hastening to prepare salvation for the Samaritan woman; second, that he sat down, waiting for her to appear to be saved; third, that he spent the time of the midday meal in attendance for her sake. "It was," it says, "about the sixth hour." For even if he was God, yet the visible form was at that time clothed in the affections of nature, perceiving weariness, subject to sleep, troubled by hunger, having every kinship with us except sin. Yet in him the desire for those being saved conquered the body's weariness. The one in need delayed longer than the one who had grown weary, and the one who had no need remained.

He was burning with the noonday heat, and he was watching for the arrival of the woman who was to be saved. For she sat, it says, at the well, and not even reclining did she await the catch, but, laboring to provide salvation, she was preparing herself in readiness for the Samaritan woman. And she, perhaps, had come out of the house, advancing little by little, using womanly steps, at ease, carrying her water jar, often stopping in the midst of her walk to gaze at the field as at a crop. The tireless and invisible scout, a skilled hunter, concealing the benefactor, appears as one in need. For Jesus says, it says, "Woman, give me a drink." He sows the voice, like a wandering dove scattering a seed: "Give me a drink." He feigns thirst, who came to mix for her a cup of salvation; or rather, if one more subtly mines the utterance, the Lord's thirst is real: for he thirsted for her salvation, and justly cried out to her, "Give me a drink." You have, he says, a hidden spring of gratitude within yourself; from that, fill a stream and give me to drink.

But the woman did not perceive the riddles, attending only to the bare words: "How is it that you, being a Jew, ask to drink from me, who am a Samaritan woman?" In return for the toil of the journey, Christ met with a reproach of opinions; but for one who has once chosen to undertake things on our behalf, what happens is bearable. Therefore he also endures the rebuke from the Samaritan woman. For he descended from his dignity, that he might raise up the soul of the lowly sinner. A certain lowly sinfulness possessed the Samaritan woman; she was defiled by a wanton life, she changed lovers from one to another, she considered the time of passion as marriage, she was a bride to her lovers while married, she was perpetually both widow and newlywed—or rather, she was neither clearly widow nor bride; for she had not been separated from the first by death, nor was she joined to the second by lawful marriage. The Lord himself is witness to this before her: "You have spoken well," he says, "that you have no husband; for you have had five husbands, and the one you now have is not your husband." This you have spoken truly. But she was a pearl mingled with mud, and such a one did not escape the merchant; for she showed the radiance of her soul in her words. "How is it," she says, "that you, being a Jew, ask to drink from me, who am a Samaritan woman?" "How is it that you?"—and the "you" is that of one angered. "How do you seek to drink from me? If you think as I do, I will be ready for your request; but if you desire the ways of the Jews, do not seek welcome from those of another race; do not demand a gift which you shun." The Samaritan woman thought that because of the necessity of thirst, the Lord was fishing for Samaritan worship; but she did not know that she was being bound by his words.

She was bound by her response to the Lord, or rather by the words of the Lord to her: "If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that says to you, 'Give me to drink,' you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water." "Since," he says, "you mock my thirst and call me a Jew, with whom you have no fellowship, learn how much you err in your judgment of me. You do not know my true lineage, you do not know that my generosity is great, you do not know what abundance of the fountain is with me; for if you knew, you would have asked; but now I do not blame you for your ignorance, and to you who ask, I give." He moves the one not thirsty toward a desire for thirst, he turns the one who gives drink toward a need for drink; the woman was at any rate wounded by the words and was captivated by a longing for the water. For falling at the Lord's feet, she said, "Lord, give me this water, so that I may not thirst, nor come here to draw." She who before was deemed worthy to give drink now deems it worthy to be given drink. For noble minds are easily cultivated; such was the mind of this blessed Samaritan woman, such was her character, cleansed of the thorns of unbelief, having no Jewish spite. For she, expecting the Messiah and having encountered his divine teaching, believed sincerely; and she not only kept the gift for herself, but also persuaded her fellow citizens to run to him, preaching apostolically: "Come, see a man who told me everything I have done. Is this not the Christ?" O wise woman! She knew that a woman is not admissible as a witness; therefore she draws the men of her city as witnesses, so that she might become the cause of salvation for many.

The evangelist says, therefore: "And many of the Samaritans from that city believed in him, because of the testimony of the woman, who said: 'He told me everything I had done.' So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them. And he remained there two days." And many more believed because of his word; and they said to the woman, "We no longer believe because of your talk; for we have heard and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world, the Christ." Do you see, beloved, the thirst of Christ, and how food and drink held the salvation of those who believed in him? "For my food," he says, "is to do the will of the Father who sent me, and to complete his work." For this reason, being thirsty, he gives drink to the Samaritan woman; and having drawn water, she abundantly and generously bestowed the Lord's gift upon her fellow citizens. Through her, the people of Abraham are more difficult to teach than the Samaritan mind; for to them, not even the lessons at the temple were of benefit; but to her, even the conversation at the well was of benefit. Let us therefore appropriate the good qualities of the Samaritan woman to ourselves; let us adopt divine zeal; let us long for grateful love of learning; and if we discourse on divine things in church, let us consider that the words spoken to her by the Lord Christ are also spoken to us: "Those who worship God must worship in spirit and truth." Glory and power to him for ever and ever. Amen.