THE WEDDING FEAST OF CANA

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

There was a wedding at Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding…

As I think about it, I am not sure there were ever more perfect words written to begin the telling of a short story than these, the first verses of chapter two in the Gospel of John. As soon as we hear these opening words and the verses that follow the evangelist has painted a picture that enables us to imagine every detail of the scene: a wedding feast of joy; a blushing bride; a nervous groom; a puzzled waiter-in-charge; Mary, the ever attentive guest; Jesus, who reluctantly becomes the center of attention; and last, but not least, the satisfied guests now enjoying the choicest of wines. It is a story perfectly told. But more importantly, it is a story that lives on beyond the pages of a book in the minds and hearts of anyone willing to invite Jesus to the wedding feast that is our union with him.

The evangelist John makes it clear that this first miracle of Jesus is more than a miracle, more than what happens at the feast. This miracle, like the others he recounts in his gospel, is a “sign” that points to something else. And the “something else” is Jesus himself. As wondrous, as profound the miracle might be, it pales in comparison to the one who performs the miracle: Jesus, the true bridegroom of his heavenly father’s beloved children; Jesus, the true bridegroom, who all throughout his public ministry that follows this miracle will draw all who are willing into deeper intimacy with him.

Wedding feasts in the Mideast at the time of Jesus lasted for seven days. Is it any wonder the wine might run out? It might be good for us to read between the lines of the story because I think the story beneath the story tells us something about how Jesus the bridegroom invites us to deeper intimacy with him.

Hospitality was and is among the highest of virtues in Mid-eastern and Mediterranean cultures. It all has to do with honor. Not being able to provide for a guest would bring dishonor to the less-than-gracious or ill-prepared host. Think of the parable Jesus tells of the man who received visitors during the night while he is asleep – how he ran to his neighbor for bread that he might feed his unexpected guest. The wine running out at the wedding feast sets the stage for great embarrassment for a young couple who would not be able to provide for their guests. Mary senses the unfolding drama and, as only a mother could know her son, she recognizes he would not be insensitive to the needs of the newly married couple. Her intuition of faith allowed her to say with full confidence to the waiter in charge: “Do whatever he tells you.” Usually we hear those words and note Mary’s intercessory power. But it is not Mary’s intercessory power that is at play here. Her virtue is her extraordinary faith, because up to this point in the story Jesus has performed no miracle or extraordinary sign. Mary knew intuitively that her Son would respond to the deeper need that was present: not the need for guests to have more wine, but, rather, the need for a couple to be spared embarrassment and shame on the day of the wedding.

That, I think, is the lesson for us as we begin to walk with Jesus during this new liturgical year. How does Jesus invite us to deeper intimacy with him? He enters into those areas of our lives not where we are strong and assured; rather he enters into those vulnerable corners which we would rather keep hidden, those corners that cause us embarrassment and shame, those corners where we sit in the shadows of our weakness rather than bask in the light of Jesus’ saving grace. Jesus enters into those corners of our lives where we most need him to be, those corners where we do not live out the dignity that is ours as children of God.  Jesus enters into the corners of our lives not where we put our best foot forward; he enters into those corners of our lives where we hobble lame and crippled, unable to walk with the assurance that should belong to those who know that Jesus walks by their side.

In this liturgical year the evangelist Luke will be our guide. It is his gospel we will hear read Sunday after Sunday during the Ordinary Time of the Year. And it is his gospel more than the other three that presents Jesus as the compassionate Lord, always anticipating and responding to the deeper needs of the people who come to him. Next week we will hear the itinerant rabbi Jesus read in his synagogue in Nazareth a passage from the prophet Isaiah; it is the passage which reads “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to announce a year acceptable to the Lord.” As he rolls up the scroll, all eyes are fixed on him and he says: “Today this scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing.”

Those words remind us: when we are poor, when we are held captive, when we are blind, when we are oppressed, in short, when we are most vulnerable, it is then that Jesus fulfills the words of Isaiah and enters into those areas of our lives that are most in need of his compassion, his grace, his forgiveness, his understanding. The story of the wedding feast of Cana is our story. We are the bride and groom in need of his powerful, yet gentle intervention that we might be freed from the embarrassment that is ours when we do not live out our dignity as beloved of our heavenly Father. May we embrace this story as our story. And may it be for us a sign, pointing to the Jesus, who accompanies us in the often uncertain journey that is our lives.