A changed life

The Gospel of John offers each reader with choices. One can take the easiest, the most obvious paths through it, perhaps the one that will not require much from you, not ask for a change in heart or life. For example, a Pharisee, Nicodemus, meets Jesus and has the choice to be born “anothen.” He can understand the choice as being born again or being born from above.  Nicodemus never grasps the higher choice: to be born from above – perhaps it is too risky for him. Life doesn’t change for Nicodemus (at least not yet). The Samaritan woman Jesus meets at the well has a choice between flowing waters or living waters – she asks about the living waters and enters into a new life, immediately returning to her town and proclaiming the good news of the gospel. Her life has changed. This is a recurring theme in John’s Gospel. What about Cana?

When Holy Land tours reach Cana there is generally an opportunity for the married couples to receive a blessing. It is a wonderful and touching moment. The tours don’t linger there because there is a busy schedule of visiting other sacred sites. I remember the first time I was in Cana and as we moved off to the next stop, I remember thinking “the story of Cana has more to offer.” I wondered “whose life has changed?” Mary or the Apostles? You could certainly make that argument. There is certainly a stronger case that Cana is the “life changer” for Jesus. This we already know: Jesus was truly born from above and came to dwell among us. He has been anointed in the Spirit on the banks of the Jordan River. Perhaps now the question is will he unleash the living waters into the world? Has that hour arrived? Jesus is clear: “My hour has not yet come.”

“The hour” – an expression in John that points to the Cross, the ultimate and great sign of our redemption. True, that hour has not yet come, but I think Mary, in her gift of wisdom, understands the deeper story that is unfolding. Think about it this way: over the timeline of meeting, dating, becoming engaged, the wedding, building a common life, starting a family, and all that fall between and is yet to come – what is “the hour?” Some things play out over the course of time and all are part of “the hour.” I think Mary understands that and actually kind of ignores Jesus’ response, turns to the servants and says: “Do whatever he tells you.” She understands that “the hour” has already begun and the clock is ticking.

In the Cana story there are six water containers – all empty.  They are not containers for drinking water, they are set aside for the Jewish rituals of purification, being made ritually pure, able to enter the wedding feast.  Jesus orders them filled and then changes the water to wine.  The best of wines, in abundance, about 150 gallons.  Wine in superabundance – the OT sign of the kingdom of God, the great banquet of God.  The great in-gathering when all the faithful will be made clean – not with the ritual waters of Jewish custom but with… with… well, the OT never says.  

Here at Cana the water becomes wine – a sign of the coming kingdom, a sign giving us a glimpse of the Eucharistic wine at the Last Supper – but even more importantly pointing to when the wine of the last supper will become the blood of the cross. When the OT water rituals are replaced with Jesus’ sacrifice on the Cross, when we are washed clean in the blood of the Lamb, and redemption is complete.

I think Mary’s gift to her Son is this: “This is when the hour begins. When is it complete? You will know. The choice you make now is part of the choice you will make all along the way, right up to the hour’s end.” Jesus chooses and the living waters of the Gospel begin to flow into the world with the first sign of God’s power now in the world.. At the end Jesus will choose that the will of the Father be done – and redemption will be complete. 

At this point in the story, how could anyone know all of this? They couldn’t. It is only in the larger narrative of the entire Gospel of John that the simple sign of water changing to wine is fully revealed and made known.  But we are in the here and now, and knowing what we know – we know the story. We are called to choose. To choose how we are to be in the world – born again, or born from above.  Seeking flowing waters or living waters.  Seeing the simple miracle or seeing the fuller glory of the Lord. And in the fullness of the Glory of God to know that we are gifted to be in this time and place to show the glory and preeminence of God. We are baptized in the sanctifying waters of Baptism. We are anointed and gifted by the Holy Spirit: “There are different kinds of spiritual gifts but the same Spirit; there are different forms of service but the same Lord; there are different workings but the same God who produces all of them in everyone.” (1 Cor 12:4)

In the story at Cana, Mary, the woman filled with grace, uses the Spirit-given gift of Wisdom. Whose life was changed? Jesus, the Son of God, anointed in the Spirit, unleashing the beginning of the hour when all will be redeemed? Whose life was changed? Everyone who believes into the Son of God.

The story of Cana gives one context to this life. You meet the love of your life; the hour begins. How will the story unfold? You bring your gifts to the marriage. You include the wisdom of God so that your marriage and life are fonts of living water nourishing those around you. The hour ends as you enter the bright glory of God in everlasting life. 

You come to St. Francis in Triangle.You whose hour began in the waters and anointing of Baptism. We are one chapter in your unfolding story. Our story joins with yours; our gifts join with yours. Bring your gifts to the life and ministry of this parish, in this time and place. Whose life will be changed? We can’t begin to imagine all the souls that will be touched. Choose the life from above. Choose the living waters. The hour is already upon us…and we know the ending – the eternal wedding feast of heaven.


Image credit: The Marriage Feast at Cana | Bartolomé Estebán Murillo, 1672 | The Barber Institute of Fine Art | PD-US | Photograph by DeFacto – Wiki Commons | CC-SA-4.0

Believing: a final thought

This coming Sunday is the 2nd Sunday of Ordinary Time.  11 Jesus did this as the beginning of his signs in Cana in Galilee and so revealed his glory, and his disciples began to believe in him. 

O’Day [539-40] insightfully notes: “The contrast between the responses of the steward and the disciples can help the contemporary Christian interpret and appropriate this text. Modern Christians distort and oversimplify when they assume that first-century people would have more immediately embraced the miraculous. The steward is perplexed by the sudden appearance of wine of such quality. He summons the bridegroom, the host of the party, because he assumes that the wine can be explained by conventional reasoning. He attributes the wine to the unprecedented hospitality of this man, but this miracle cannot be explained by an irregularity in etiquette. Rational explanations miss the mark. Jesus’ disciples, by contrast, see in the miraculous abundance of good wine a sign of God’s presence among them. They recognize the revelation of God in the prodigious flow of wine, and they recognize Jesus as the one who brought God to them. The miracle of the wine shatters the boundaries of their conventional world, and the disciples are willing to entertain the possibility that this boundary breaking marks the inbreaking of God. The steward tried to reshape the miracle to fit his former categories, while the disciples allowed their categories to be reshaped by this extraordinary transformation of water into wine, and so they “believed in him” (2:11) as the revealer of God


Image credit: The Marriage Feast at Cana | Bartolomé Estebán Murillo, 1672 | The Barber Institute of Fine Art | PD-US | Photograph by DeFacto – Wiki Commons | CC-SA-4.0

The Jars of Water

This coming Sunday is the 2nd Sunday of Ordinary Time.  6 Now there were six stone water jars there for Jewish ceremonial washings, each holding twenty to thirty gallons. 7 Jesus told them, “Fill the jars with water.” So they filled them to the brim.

The gospel provides an interesting amount of detail: the number of jars, their composition, purpose and size. The half dozen represented a good store of water for carrying out the kind of purification of which we read in Mark 7:1–4. Before the meal servants would have poured water over the hands of every guest. “Stone jars, in contrast to earthen jars, are free from the possibility of levitical impurity (Lev 11:33). The ‘rites of Jewish purification’ probably refers to the ritual cleansing of hands at meals (cf. John 3:25). Even taking into account the possibility of a large gathering at the wedding, the quantity of stone jars and their capacity is unusual. Everything about v. 6 is overdrawn, from the description of the jars to the amount of narrative space the Evangelist devotes to the description. The narrative technique mirrors the size of the jars in order to emphasize the extravagance of the miracle that is about to take place.” (O’Day, 537-38)

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Mary and Jesus

This coming Sunday is the 2nd Sunday of Ordinary Time.  4 (And) Jesus said to her, “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.”  5 His mother said to the servers, “Do whatever he tells you.” 

Jesus’ mother asks nothing explicit of him in v. 3, but his response in v. 4 makes clear that her words carried an implied request. Jesus’ mother assumed her son would somehow attend to the problem. Why Mary would make such a request is the stuff of speculation. The suggestions range from her desire to save the groom embarrassment, forestalling a legal liability (see notes on v.3), her awareness of Jesus’ larger role, or any host of reasons.

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Out of Wine

This coming Sunday is the 2nd Sunday of Ordinary Time1 On the third day there was a wedding in Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there.   2 Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding. 3 When the wine ran short, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.”

The very sparse opening of this narrative calls a host of questions to mind. Who is getting married? Why is it that Mary, Jesus, and the disciples are all there? How is it that the wine runs short? […with only good humor intended, some suggest that as soon as the disciples showed up the wine ran out!] All these points and questions are important to the modern mind, but John is interested in the sign (semieon) of the story: water miraculously transformed into wine.

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Minimizing miracles 

This coming Sunday is the 2nd Sunday of Ordinary Time. In many 20th century commentaries, I am always surprised by the tendency among some scripture scholars to seek to explain away the miraculous. More than one (but thankfully not a lot) offers that Jesus, realizing people were well inebriated already, simply ordered the jar filled with water, and then the water taken to the master of the banquet who enters into the merriment while not wanting to embarrass the bridegroom, proclaims this wine to be the best. The bridegroom becomes a silent conspirator as the word spreads – and thus the miracle is born of rumor.

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First Century Weddings and Feasts

This coming Sunday is the 2nd Sunday of Ordinary Time. Our information about the details of marriage ceremonies (as distinct from marriage regulations) in first-century Judaism is very sketchy. There are later references and details about weddings, and so if one assumes the customs did not change a great deal, then perhaps we know more.

We know that marriage was preceded by a betrothal that was much more binding than our modern-day engagement. It included a solemn pledging of the couple, each to the other, and was so binding that to break it divorce proceedings were necessary. At the conclusion of the betrothal period the ceremony began with the bridegroom and his friends making their way in procession to the bride’s home. This was often done at night, when there could be a torchlight procession (such seems to be the case with the “Wise and Foolish Virgins” account.) Undoubtedly there were speeches and expressions of goodwill before the bride and groom went in procession to the groom’s house, where the wedding banquet was held. It can be assumed that there was a religious ceremony, but we actually have no details. The processions and the feast are the principal items of which we have knowledge. The feast was prolonged, and might last as long as a week (cf. Judg. 14:12).

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The New Creation Week

This coming Sunday is the 2nd Sunday of Ordinary Time in Lectionary Cycle C. In the previous post we noted that while Cycle C’s primary gospel is Luke, this reading is from the Gospel of John. Many scholars have noted that repeats the theme of Creation as he begins the narrative of the Gospel. Where the synoptic gospels focus on the events at the beginning of Jesus’ public life, John seems to assume that the reader is familiar with those accounts and calls our attention to the ways in which people respond in faith to him – yet, at the same time, unlike the other gospel writers, places the beginning events on a timeline.

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Signs

Even though we are in Year C of the liturgical cycle, the first gospel proclaimed in Year C-Ordinary Time is taken from the Gospel according to John – the wedding at Cana. In many ways it is considered a type of “proto” ministry before the very public beginning at the synagogue in Capernaum. In the ancient lectionaries of the church, John 2:1–11 was read on Epiphany, a practice carried over into the Eastern church. In the modern Common and Catholic lectionaries, this text is read at the beginning of the season following Epiphany. In Catholic circles this is labeled “Ordinary Time.” In the Common Lectionary the celebration appears as the “Second Sunday After Epiphany.” 

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In the moment

A wedding celebration – part of ordinary everyday life. A woman and man to be joined in marriage, a next step in a life unfolding. We see but a vignette of their life on a day filled with music, the dancing, the celebration, the servants working hard to hide their panic, and wedding guests having no idea that this celebration teeters on the edge of disaster.

They have no wine.”  These are words of scarcity in a story one associates with abundance and a richness of overflowing grace. Words that are familiar to us in our personal lives and voices we hear.“They have no wine,” is echoed in: “They have no money.” “She has no job.” “He has no friends.” “I have no strength.”  Words that have more variation and instances that I could count.  Words spoken in the ordinary of life even as things around us teeter on the edge of disaster.

This week I had a long conversation with a young woman who works in a hospital ICU. She has spent 2 years working hard to help heal as patients teeter on the edge of disaster. She is tired beyond her years. “I have no strength” The stress is endless, relentless. In the beginning the work was heroic as they tended to the innocents, people who were overtaken by the pandemic virus. Now it is more “one foot after another” as she tends to those who refused vaccination and their life needlessly teeters on the edge of disaster. It’s been two years and she is struggling. She was feeling less and less a nurse. And so she called.

Among combat veterans there is an expression: the thousand mile stare that blank, unfocused gaze of combatants who have become emotionally detached from the horrors around them. As I listened to my friend I heard the thousand mile monotone. And so we talked.


In today’s gospel the scene is a wedding feast, celebrations that lasted for days, and it was the host’s responsibility to provide abundant food and drink for the duration of the festivities.  To run out of wine early was a dishonor — a breach of hospitality that the guests would recount for years.  It is not hard to imagine the panic among servants – blame rolls downhill and takes no hostages.

We have no idea what Mary’s connection is to the bride and groom; she is one wedding guest among many.  Yet in the midst of celebration and distraction, she notices need.  She sees what’s amiss.  She knows that humiliation is brewing just out of sight. Mary notices and registers concern before Jesus does.

Mary tells the right person.  Mary knows who her son is and she trusts that he alone can meet the need she perceives. I love the assurance with which she brings her distress to Jesus.  She is as certain of his generosity as she is of the need itself.

Mary persists.   I don’t know what to make of Jesus’s reluctance to help when Mary first approaches him.  “Woman, how does your concern affect me?”  “My hour has not yet come.”  Jesus knows that his countdown to crucifixion will begin as soon as he makes his true identity known.  Maybe he’s reluctant to start that ominous clock ticking.  Maybe he thinks wine-making shouldn’t be his first miracle.  Maybe there’s a timeline known only to him and to God.  Lots of maybe’s. Whatever the case, Mary doesn’t cave in the face of his reluctance; she continues to press the urgency of the need into Jesus’s presence.  As if to say, “OK, but there’s a desperate problem, right here, right now.  Change your plans.  Hasten the hour.  Help them on their wedding day!”

Mary instills trust and invites obedience.  “Do whatever he tells you,” she says to the household servants.  She doesn’t wait to hear the specifics of Jesus’s plan.  She doesn’t pretend to know the details. She simply communicates her long-standing trust in Jesus’s loving, generous character, and invites the servants to practice the minute-by-minute obedience. The kind of obedience that makes faith possible.

Think about the servants – their task isn’t easy.  There’s no running water in the ancient world, and those stone jars are huge. How many trips to the well, how much energy, how deep a resolve the task requires!  Mary’s strength, her trust serves as a catalyst for action, for the groundwork of Jesus’s instructions: “Fill the jars.”  “Draw some out.”  Take it to the chief steward.”  She fosters a faith-filled atmosphere that becomes contagious.  She instills wonder in those around her, and ushers in a miracle. “Jesus did this as the beginning of his signs at Cana in Galilee.


Would it that we could heal with the power of Jesus. We can’t do what Jesus does, but we can be like Mary in that we notice, speak out, persist, and trust. No matter how profound the scarcity, no matter how impossible the situation, we can elbow our way in, pull Jesus aside, ask earnestly for help, and ready ourselves for action. We can be the sign that ushers in a miracle and reveals the glory of God in the world.

There in the midst of a life teetering at the edge of disaster in a pandemic ICU, there are nurses and doctors who notice, call the right person, persist, and instill trust. I asked my friend about her prayer life. She still routinely turns to prayer, asking Jesus to usher in another miracle, another sign that God was present in the midst of her daily combat. She holds the hands of her patients and prayed.

I told my friend about this weekend’s gospel and offered that she was the sign of God’s presence in the ICU. As the team practiced their medical skills to save the life, she was the one whose simple gesture of holding a hand in prayer was the sign most needed in that moment. As a nurse she noticed more than just the medical needs, she persisted, she instilled trust, and she called on the right person.

I told my friend that she was the Mary of those moments.

It is advice for us all. When and wherever we find ourselves this week we can notice, persist, instill trust, call on the right person – become a sign of God’s presence for another. May we all become Mary for others in the moments that come.