Jump to: Lens | Reflection Prompts | Weekly Practice
First Reading: Exodus 17: 3-7
Psalm 95: 1-2, 6-7, 8-9
Second Reading: Romans 5:1-2, 5-8
Gospel: John 4:5-15, 19b-26, 39a, 40-42
Jesus came to a town of Samaria called Sychar,
near the plot of land that Jacob had given to his son Joseph.
Jacob’s well was there.
Jesus, tired from his journey, sat down there at the well.
It was about noon.
A woman of Samaria came to draw water.
Jesus said to her,
“Give me a drink.”
His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.
The Samaritan woman said to him,
“How can you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?”
—For Jews use nothing in common with Samaritans.—
Jesus answered and said to her,
“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 woman said to him,
“Sir, you do not even have a bucket and the cistern is deep;
where then can you get this living water?
Are you greater than our father Jacob,
who gave us this cistern and drank from it himself
with his children and his flocks?”
Jesus answered and said to her,
“Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again;
but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst;
the water I shall give will become in him
a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”
The woman said to him,
“Sir, give me this water, so that I may not be thirsty
or have to keep coming here to draw water.
“I can see that you are a prophet.
Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain;
but you people say that the place to worship is in Jerusalem.”
Jesus said to her,
“Believe me, woman, the hour is coming
when you will worship the Father
neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem.
You people worship what you do not understand;
we worship what we understand,
because salvation is from the Jews.
But the hour is coming, and is now here,
when true worshipers will worship the Father in Spirit and truth;
and indeed the Father seeks such people to worship him.
God is Spirit, and those who worship him
must worship in Spirit and truth.”
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 who is speaking with you.”
Many of the Samaritans of that town began to believe in him.
When the Samaritans came to him,
they invited him to stay with them;
and he stayed there two days.
Many more began to believe in him because of his word,
and they said to the woman,
“We no longer believe because of your word;
for we have heard for ourselves,
and we know that this is truly the savior of the world.”
Anchor Verse
“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.” – John 4: 10

🔎 Lens: The Well You Keep Returning To
She came alone. At noon. When no one else would be there.
What truly seemed to touch her was not simply that Jesus knew all about her past, but that within the context of knowing everything—all the broken relationships, all the weight of her history—he still treated her with the greatest respect and dignity. This was a new experience for her.
St. Augustine saw in this unnamed woman a symbol of the Church not yet made righteous—coming in ignorance, finding Christ, and being transformed through conversation. He wrote that in her words and her person, “we must recognize ourselves.”
That’s a disarmingly honest lens. Augustine isn’t sentimentalizing her. He’s saying: you are her. Not because you’ve had five husbands, but because you have come to draw from wells that don’t satisfy, and you may not yet know who is sitting at the edge of the one that does.
Jesus progressively reveals himself through encounter—not proposition, not lecture, not law. He begins with a request: give me a drink. He asks for something before he offers anything. That small asymmetry matters. It means even God comes to us needing something. And in that shared thirst, everything can change.
The question isn’t whether you are thirsty. You are. The question is: what are you going to the well for?
Reflection Prompts
- “Give me a drink.” Jesus asks before he offers. Is there someone in your life you’ve been waiting to help—without first asking what they actually need? What would it look like to begin with a request rather than a solution?
- She came alone, at noon. Where do you go when you’re avoiding being known? The 3 AM phone scroll. The second glass of wine. The busyness that leaves no room for quiet. What is the “noon hour” habit that keeps you circling without arriving?
- Five attempts to redirect. Zero condemnation. Jesus stays curious through all of it. Where in your relationships—with God, with others—do you tend to lecture rather than ask? Where do you need to become more patient with the person who keeps deflecting?
- She left the jar. What would it mean, this week, to leave behind one thing you came to this Lent with—one strategy, one self-sufficient habit, one way of managing your own thirst—and run toward someone else instead?
Weekly Practice
At Mass
This Sunday, as the Gospel is proclaimed, notice the moment when the conversation shifts—when she stops arguing and starts wondering. Something in her posture changes. Something in yours might too.
Pay attention to your body during that moment. Does something soften? Tighten? Go very still?
That’s the place to sit with this week.
After Mass: The Practice of the Left Jar
Identify one thing you have been “drawing water” from that doesn’t actually satisfy—a habit, a distraction, a source of comfort you return to again and again without it ever being quite enough.
You don’t have to give it up this week. Just name it. Write it down if you’re able.
Then, once named, do one small thing for someone else instead—something that costs you a few minutes or a small inconvenience. Nothing dramatic. Just the direction of outward rather than inward.
She left her jar. She ran toward people she’d been hiding from. She became the messenger precisely because she stopped hoarding.
You don’t have to transform this week. Just put down the jar for an hour.
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