Homily by Fr. Ruslan Babii on the Fifth Sunday after Easter

There are moments when a person reaches the limits of their strength, when they still want to hope but have no basis for their hopes. It is then that a true conversation with God begins. Not a solemn one, not a rehearsed one, but an honest one—even a harsh one. This is what happened to the people in the desert during the Exodus from Egyptian bondage: their thirst brought to the surface what lay in their hearts—fear, anger, doubt. They remembered the miracles, but they had forgotten how to trust. It seemed to them that God could lead them out but would not bring them to the promised land. That He begins but does not finish.

And God’s response is strange to human logic. Not rebuke, not punishment—but water. Living, cold, life-giving. He gives what is needed, even when a person speaks to Him not as one “ought”. This is a sermon in itself: God’s faithfulness does not depend on our mood. God is always faithful to His promise.

But there is an even deeper thirst—one that is not immediately visible. It is not about the mouth, but about the heart. This is precisely what Christ speaks of at the well. He does not simply promise water to the Samaritan woman—he reveals that a person can live differently: not moving from one emptiness to another, but being filled by a spring that never runs dry.

The Samaritan woman comes for ordinary water, but she meets the One who sees her life without embellishment. And what is important—he does not turn away. She hears no condemnation, but she hears no flattery either. She is told the truth. And this truth does not destroy her—it sets her free. For the first time, someone is looking at her not through the lens of her mistakes but deeper…

We are often afraid of precisely this—of being seen completely. That is why we construct facades behind which we hide our true selves. It is easier for us to appear good than to be honest. It is easier to say the right words than to let God into those parts of ourselves that we ourselves do not want to acknowledge.

But an encounter with Christ never happens on the surface. It always touches the core. And that is where change begins. Not when we appear to be better, but when we stop pretending. We acknowledge our sinful reality and realise our need for God.

The Samaritan woman did not become a theologian and did not receive special knowledge. She simply shared what had happened to her: “He told me the truth about myself.” And that was enough for others to begin searching. Living testimony is always stronger than correct formulations.

Likewise, the apostles did not persuade with abstract truths. They spoke of what they had experienced. Their power lay not in eloquence, but in the reality of their encounter. They knew what it was like when God enters into daily life: into weariness, into fear, into scarcity, into sorrow, into joy…

Perhaps our greatest mistake is to confine God only to the “church space”. As if His place were only in the sanctuary where we pray at specific times. And the rest of life—separate. But then faith, too, becomes separate from daily life, rather than its source.

God is not looking for perfect people. He is looking for those who are open. Those who will allow Him to be near not only in isolated prayers but also in real circumstances and relationships. And then even weakness ceases to be an obstacle—it becomes a place where His power can act.

Thirst never goes away—it simply shifts its focus. And the question isn’t whether we want to drink. The question is, from which source? Let those who are able to understand, understand.

See also

February 7 Homily by Fr. Ruslan Babii on the Meatfare Sunday December 20 Homily by Fr. Ruslan Babii on the Twenty-eighth Sunday after Pentecost August 18 The Parish Feast Day was solemnly celebrated in Ardeer