The Thirst Only Christ Can Satisfy

3 Sunday Lent, year A, First Scrutiny

The first scrutiny invites both the catechumens preparing for baptism and all the baptized to reflect on the deeper meaning of baptism in their lives. In the story of the Samaritan woman, Jesus reveals that our deepest thirst for love, purpose, and acceptance cannot be satisfied by the many things we often turn to. Christ alone gives the living water of the Holy Spirit that truly fills the human heart.

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Today we begin the first of the three scrutinies. The word “scrutiny” comes from a root meaning to inquire, to question, to examine more deeply. These three scrutinies, which take place this Sunday and the following two Sundays, are especially important for the members of our RCIA group who are preparing to enter the Catholic Church at Easter.

This year, however, we are reminded that the scrutinies are not only for them. They are an opportunity for all of us who are baptized to deepen our own baptismal commitments and to reflect on what baptism means in our lives.

As you probably know, the Church follows a three year cycle of Sunday readings: Years A, B, and C. Year A focuses on the Gospel of Matthew, and that is the year we are in now. In many years, the special Gospel readings associated with the scrutinies are used only at the Masses where the scrutinies themselves are celebrated. This year is an exception. During this Year A cycle, all of us at every Sunday Mass have the opportunity to hear these important readings from the Gospel of John that are connected with the scrutinies.

These three Gospel readings focus on themes that are closely related to baptism. Today we heard the story of the Samaritan woman at the well, which invites us to reflect on the meaning of water in baptism. Next week we will hear the story of Jesus healing the man born blind, which invites us to reflect on the gift of light and the enlightenment that comes through baptism. Finally, in two weeks we will hear the story of the raising of Lazarus, which encourages us to reflect on the new life that Christ brings through baptism.

This first scrutiny, then, focuses on the theme of water.

Water, of course, is central to baptism. But in the Gospel of John, water carries a deeper meaning. To begin, we should appreciate how important water was in the time of Jesus. Here in New Westminster, sometimes it feels as if we have too much water. Just a few days ago it was raining, and you may have noticed that the water was flowing across Royal Avenue. At times it almost looks like a small river. Thankfully it bypasses the church and makes its way down the hill, eventually reaching the Fraser River again.

In the time of Jesus, however, water was not so plentiful. If you have visited the Holy Land or seen pictures of it, you may know about the wadis. These are riverbeds that flow during the rainy season but remain completely dry during the rest of the year. Finding water for crops, livestock, and drinking was often a real challenge. Because of this, wells were extremely important. People depended on them for their daily survival, just as the Samaritan woman does in today’s Gospel.

But we must also look deeper, because water in John’s Gospel often symbolizes something more.

In the encounter between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well, there is a deeper, symbolic meaning. The Fathers of the Church noticed this very early on. For example, St. Augustine reflected on how the woman’s desire for water represents a deeper longing within her. Water becomes a symbol of the deeper needs of the human heart: the need for love, acceptance, and purpose. These are desires that every one of us carries within us.

St. Augustine also points out an interesting detail in the story. We learn something about this woman from the time of day when she comes to draw water. John tells us that she comes to the well at noon. In that part of the world, noon is the hottest part of the day. It is the time when you would normally avoid going out to draw water. Most people would go early in the morning or later in the evening when it is cooler.

The fact that the woman comes at noon suggests that she hoped no one else would be there. She seems to have been somewhat of an outsider in her community. For whatever reasons, she did not quite fit in. As the conversation continues, we learn one possible reason why. Jesus tells her that she has had five husbands, and the man she is now with is not her husband.

Because of this situation, she may have found herself on the margins of her community. She comes to the well not only for physical water, but also with a deeper longing. She is searching for love, acceptance, and purpose.

In this sense, she is very much like each of us. We all carry these same desires in our hearts. At times, however, we try to satisfy those desires in ways that do not truly fulfill us. The Samaritan woman, it seems, has been searching in different directions, perhaps looking for love in ways that have not brought her the happiness she hoped for.

Some interpreters have also suggested that the reference to her husbands might symbolize the different idols worshiped in that region. In that sense, the story can remind us that we sometimes try to find meaning, acceptance, or fulfillment in things that are not truly God, things that ultimately cannot satisfy our deepest thirst.

This Sunday invites us to ask ourselves what those idols might be in our own lives. Where do we look for purpose, meaning, or acceptance in ways that do not truly satisfy us?

Sometimes this can take very ordinary forms. It might be endless scrolling on our phones, constantly checking for new notifications in the hope that something will fill a certain emptiness within us. It might take the form of workaholism, alcoholism, or other habits that promise satisfaction but leave us still thirsty. It might even involve relationships that, in the end, do not bring us the love and peace we are seeking.

Like the Samaritan woman, we too can search for love, acceptance, and purpose in places that do not ultimately fulfill us.

In the Gospel, however, Jesus is presented as the one who can truly satisfy this thirst.

To appreciate this more fully, it helps to know something about the significance of wells in the Old Testament. Interestingly, wells are often places where people meet their future spouses. Moses meets his wife at a well. Jacob meets his wife at a well.

The other day I happened to see an infographic online that was showing how people have met their spouses over the past seventy years. In the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, most people met through friends, family members, or work. Those accounted for the great majority of relationships. Over time, especially with the rise of the internet and smartphones, online dating became increasingly common. Today, depending on the statistics you look at, a very large percentage of couples meet that way.

But before online dating apps, there were wells.

In the Old Testament, wells were places where people met and formed relationships. So when Jesus meets the Samaritan woman at the well, this detail is significant. In a symbolic way, Jesus is presented as the true bridegroom, the one who can truly satisfy what she has been seeking.

Notice also that the woman has had five husbands and is now with a sixth man. In biblical symbolism, the number seven represents completeness or perfection. In this sense, Jesus becomes the seventh, the one who finally fulfills what she has been searching for.

Jesus promises her not physical water, but living water, water that will become within her a spring welling up to eternal life. Later in the Gospel of John, we come to understand that this living water symbolizes the gift of the Holy Spirit. This is the gift we receive in baptism and which is strengthened in confirmation.

In this encounter, Christ promises to give the Samaritan woman the gift of the Holy Spirit, the gift that can truly fill her heart with meaning, love, and direction.

As we celebrate these scrutinies with the members of our RCIA group, this Gospel invites each of us to examine our own lives. Like the Samaritan woman, we all carry jars with us. Sometimes those jars are empty, and we try to fill them with things that do not truly satisfy.

What are the idols in our lives? Where are we searching for fulfillment in ways that leave us still thirsty?

At the end of the Gospel, the Samaritan woman leaves her water jar behind. She no longer needs the water she came to draw, because she has encountered something far greater. She has encountered Christ.

As we journey closer to Easter and the great celebration of the passion, death, and resurrection of Christ, we are invited to remember our own baptism. Christ desires to fill our hearts with the gift of the Holy Spirit. And like the Samaritan woman, we too may find that we are able to leave behind some of the jars we have been carrying, the things we have tried to fill with what does not truly satisfy.

Christ alone gives the living water that satisfies the deepest thirst of the human heart. 

The Transfiguration “Glow Up”: From Mountaintop Faith to Christian Service in the World

 2 Sunday Lent

In the Transfiguration, the disciples witness Christ’s radiant “glow up,” a glimpse of his divine glory and a preview of the resurrection. Yet the mountaintop is not a place to remain, but a moment of preparation that strengthens them to follow Jesus down into lives of service and sacrifice. When Christians encounter the transfigured Lord, they are sent into their families, communities, and civic life to help bring the light of Christ to the world.

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One of the privileges I have had as a priest is serving at times as a high school chaplain. Some years ago, I was visiting a Catholic high school in Vancouver. I would usually walk the halls once a week, greeting students and wishing them good morning. On one particular visit, I had just had my hair cut a few days earlier. As I walked down the hallway, a student called out, “Hey, Father Nick, nice glow up.”

It took me a moment to understand what that meant. If you are not fluent in Gen Z vocabulary, a “glow up” refers to a significant and positive transformation in someone’s appearance, confidence, or overall life. It suggests improvement, growth, and renewal.

We all appreciate a good glow up.

In today’s Gospel from St. Matthew, Peter’s response to Jesus’ transfiguration is very understandable. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a high mountain. In the Scriptures, mountains are places of encounter with God. It is there that Jesus is transfigured. His face shines like the sun, and his clothes become dazzling white. Moses and Elijah appear with him, representing the Law and the Prophets. In this moment, the fullness of salvation history converges. The disciples see a glimpse of Christ’s divine glory. It is, in many ways, a preview of the resurrection.

Peter responds as many of us would. “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents.” He wants to stay. He wants to preserve the moment.

Mountaintop experiences are powerful. We experience them in prayer, on retreat, in moments of deep peace, in the beauty of creation, in the kindness of others. There are times when following Jesus brings clarity and joy, when life makes sense in the light of faith. These moments are real gifts. They strengthen us and remind us of who Christ truly is.

At the same time, the mountain is not the final destination.

After the transfiguration, the voice of the Father is heard: “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.” As the Gospel unfolds, we learn what listening to Jesus means. He will speak about taking up the cross. He will walk toward Jerusalem. He will suffer and die. The mountain is preparation, not conclusion. It gives the disciples strength for the long journey ahead.

When they come down from the mountain, Jesus returns to the work of teaching, healing, and serving. The vision of glory does not remove him from the world’s needs. It sends him more deeply into them.

The same is true for us. Our faith is not meant to be an escape from ordinary life. The moments of consolation we receive are meant to strengthen us for mission. We are not called to remain in tents on the mountain. We are called to descend into the everyday realities of family life, friendships, workplaces, and our wider community.

The world does not need disciples who remain only in places of comfort and inspiration. It needs disciples who carry the light of Christ into concrete situations. When we encounter the transfigured Lord, we are invited to reflect his love in acts of service, in concern for our neighbour, in building up the common good, in contributing to a more just and compassionate society.

Christ loves every person. If we love him, we must also love those he loves.

The transfiguration is a gift of hope. It reveals that glory is the final word, even when the path leads through the cross. During this Lenten journey, we pray not only to glimpse the light of Christ, but also to receive the courage to follow him down the mountain. Strengthened by his grace, we are sent into the world to bring his love, his mercy, and his transforming light to others.

From Adam to Christ: A Lenten Journey of Hope

 1 Sunday of Lent, Year A

As the Church celebrates the Rite of Election and accompanies those preparing for Baptism, Lent invites all the faithful to rediscover the meaning of their own baptismal identity. The readings contrast Adam and Christ, reminding us that while we share in humanity’s woundedness, we are being transformed into the likeness of Christ, the new Adam. This season calls us to live both compunction and joy, honestly facing our need for conversion while trusting in the mercy that leads us toward Easter hope.

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This 1st Sunday of Lent at Holy Rosary Cathedral, an important celebration will take place: the Rite of Election. Each year at the cathedral, the Archbishop gathers those adults who are preparing to enter the Catholic Church at the Easter Vigil. This year, Archbishop Smith will greet, welcome, and bless them as they continue their journey toward Baptism and full communion. The cathedral will be filled with catechumens, candidates, their sponsors, and members of RCIA programs from across the archdiocese who have accompanied them with prayer and encouragement.

In our own parish, we have much to give thanks for. Seventeen catechumens are preparing to be baptized at the Easter Vigil, and ten candidates, already baptized in another Christian tradition, are preparing to enter into full communion with the Catholic Church. Tomorrow, they will be called forward and chosen, their names inscribed as a sign of the Church’s confidence in God’s work within them.

It is helpful to keep this Rite of Election in mind as we begin Lent. In the early Church, these forty days were a particularly intense time of preparation for those awaiting Baptism. Lent was first and foremost their season. After the Rite of Election, they entered into a period of prayer, fasting, and instruction as they prepared to die and rise with Christ in the waters of Baptism. That remains true today.

Lent, then, is not only about personal improvement. It is about Baptism. As we accompany those preparing to enter the Church, we are also called to renew and deepen our own baptismal identity. We are invited to remember who we are and to rediscover the story into which we have been baptized.

In the readings today, especially in the first reading and in Saint Paul’s letter, we are presented with a striking contrast between Adam and Christ. These two figures shape the Christian understanding of our story. We descend from Adam, yet through Baptism we are joined to Christ. We carry something of both within us.

In Genesis, we hear of Adam and Eve in the garden, created in the image and likeness of God, endowed with extraordinary dignity. Yet through disobedience, their relationships were fractured: with God, with one another, and even with creation itself. Saint Paul reminds us that this woundedness touches all humanity. We share in that brokenness. Each of us knows, if we are honest, that we struggle. None of us are perfect.

Yet this is not a message of despair. It is the context for hope. Saint Paul proclaims that Jesus Christ is the new Adam, the one who comes to undo what was done in the beginning. Where Adam gave in to temptation, Christ remained faithful. In the Gospel, Jesus is tempted in the wilderness but does not fall. He lives fully our humanity, yet without sin.

Through Baptism, we are joined to him. The transformation has begun, even if it is not yet complete. We still feel within ourselves the pull of the old Adam, but we are being conformed more and more to Christ. The fullness of that transformation will come at the resurrection.

One of the most powerful images of this mystery is found in the ancient icon known as the Harrowing of Hell. In it, Christ descends to the realm of the dead and takes Adam and Eve by the hand, lifting them up and drawing them toward the Father. It is a vivid expression of what Saint Paul describes: Christ entering into our brokenness in order to raise us up.

This is the story into which we have been baptized. It is the story Lent invites us to remember.

Traditionally, Lent has been described as a season marked by two realities that exist together: compunction and joy. Catholic faith is often a matter of both and.

Compunction is a word we do not use often. It describes the sorrow we feel when we recognize that we have done wrong. It is the honest awareness that something in us needs healing. On Ash Wednesday, we heard the words, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Lent places our lives in perspective. We remember that we are finite. We acknowledge our need for mercy.

Like Jesus in the wilderness, we enter a place of testing and reflection. The wilderness is a place of struggle, but also of renewal. Israel passed through the wilderness on the way to the Promised Land. During Lent, we ask ourselves: Where am I falling short? What habits need to change? Where is God inviting me to grow?

Yet we do not remain in sorrow alone. Lent makes sense only in light of Easter. We do not approach a harsh judge, but a Savior who understands our weakness. Christ does not expose our wounds in order to condemn us, but in order to heal us.

As we begin this Lenten season, let us pray for both compunction and joy. Let us ask for the grace to see clearly where we need conversion, and at the same time to trust deeply in the mercy of Christ.

Perhaps during this Mass, each of us can identify one area where the Lord is inviting growth. Then let us turn our gaze toward Jesus, the new Adam, who has come not to leave us in our brokenness, but to raise us up and transform us into his likeness.