2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, January 16, 2022

Responding to the needs we don't anticipate

John 2:1–11

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there.

Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding.

When the wine ran short, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” [And] Jesus said to her, “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.”

His mother said to the servers, “Do whatever he tells you.”

Now there were six stone water jars there for Jewish ceremonial washings, each holding twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus told them, “Fill the jars with water.” So they filled them to the brim.

Then he told them, “Draw some out now and take it to the headwaiter.” So they took it.

And when the headwaiter tasted the water that had become wine, without knowing where it came from (although the servers who had drawn the water knew), the headwaiter called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves good wine first, and then when people have drunk freely, an inferior one; but you have kept the good wine until now.”

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.

Music Meditations

• For Zion’s Sake (first reading) –John Michael Talbot
• Come to the Feast--Dan Schutte
• All Things Bright and Beautiful--Rutter
• The Ground-- Ola Gjeilo and GWU Chamber Choir

Opening Prayer

A psalm in a time of Transition

Choir 1: Our time is in your hands, O God, the time of our liberation

Choir 2: We are filled to the brim with pain as we await your transforming word

Choir 1: Let the wine flow freely at the festival of our spirits.

Choir 2: Tell us that woman's plea on behalf of women has been heard.

Choir 1: Your time is in our hands, O God, we beg you, delay no longer.

Choir 2: Let the future overlap our braking with the past.

Choir 1: Let our time be Yours for making miracles among us

Choir 2: And may it really be, You saved the best wine until last.

from Marian Therese Winter, WomanWord, p.35

Companions for the Journey

From “First Impressions”, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

Strange to begin the “ordinary Sundays” with today’s Gospel passage. It is out of sequence. On the Sundays through this liturgical year, we will be hearing from Luke, yet today we begin the season with John. However, this Gospel does set up the subsequent Sundays. God has come, as Isaiah promises in the first reading, to espouse a people. Jesus is the sign that this espousal is taking place. Maybe the wedding feast of Cana is the best story to begin with, since it speaks so richly of God’s desire to be one with us. A weary people have a Lover-God who lightens their loads and renews their spirits. All Jesus’ words and actions in forthcoming Sundays will show God’s reaching out as a lover to the beloved. Not just to an individual beloved either; for a wedding is a community affair. The whole community will celebrate this new bond with God. We had run out of wine, did not have the means to celebrate, so God enters the scene and gives us reason to rejoice: a new wine in a new age. The old patterns don’t have to be repeated. The days just don’t have to slip away with unkept resolutions and promises. A new wine warms our spirits, new life takes the place of the old.

The story is about more than turning water into wine. It is a “sign” and each “sign” is an epiphany (as the passage says, “revealed his glory”), a manifestation of who Jesus is, so that people would accept him and the nearness of God that he brings. For here are people wanting to celebrate, but not having the means to do that. Jesus makes possible our celebration of God’s nearness. (Isaiah voices it today, “As a young man marries a young woman, so shall your builder marry you, and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you.”) In Jesus, God has come close, and given us the reason and the means to celebrate. God has saved the good wine till last. (One commentator suggests that scriptural reflection groups might view the movie “Babette’s Feast” as a way of feeling the significance of this Gospel tale of wine and celebration.)

Considering the enormous needs people had in Jesus’ time (in our times as well), this miracle seems rather insignificant: a small town, an anonymous couple and a wedding running out of wine. Embarrassing perhaps; but not a major tragedy. It wasn’t as if someone were dying of a fatal illness, or had a serious physical problem like blindness. Yet, John makes a big deal of this story and we suspect he intends more than we initially perceive. There are only seven miracles, “signs,” in this gospel, a small number compared to those in the Synoptics. In addition, this the first miracle John presents in his account of Jesus’ ministry; one suspects there is more here than first meets the eye.

Jesus doesn’t only meet a momentary need. Nor does he provide just enough wine to deal with an awkward family situation. He is not a minimalist. His sign is of abundant wine and wine so good that it earns the praise of the headwaiter. The headwaiter’s words are the ones we are left with as the story soon comes to a close. We leave the story with his words in our ears, “...you have kept the good wine until now.” We hear these words with the ears of faith. God is doing what God promised in Isaiah, wedding us with an abundant and unending love. God is not a fickle partner in this relationship. God will be there to give us reason to celebrate, even in the most difficult moments.

This God of ours is not stingy; does not run out on us; does not let our lives diminish in meaning and vision. In our culture, youth is deified; while aging is seen as a decline. But with God and the good wine Jesus is, our lives continue to grow. As we age our faith gives us a taste of life in new ways, we drink a wine that keeps getting better and better, filling us with a longing for that best wine we will drink at God’s banquet table. Meanwhile, the wine of our eucharist today is the promise that God will be more than enough for us and that in Jesus we will have reason to celebrate throughout our journey. The God revealed in the Cana “sign” is very present tense; quite capable of making this moment of our journey something to celebrate. Even as we suffer sickness, the death of loved ones and other significant losses, our Cana God stays with us. Indeed, in surprising ways, God enables us to say what we wouldn’t think possible, “Here at this moment of my life I celebrate God. This is good wine indeed!” Later Jesus will spell out what we already sense at Cana, “I have come that you may have life, and have it more abundantly” (10:10).

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

Woman, how does your concern affect me?

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

• Have you ever asked God for something, some “miracle” which did not happen, and later realized that it would not have been a good thing for you to receive at that time? How important is timing? Why do you think Jesus says: “My time is not yet come”?
• Are there any special “blessings” or favors you have received from God?
• Has there ever been an “ordinary” event that wound up having extraordinary meaning for you?
• List some ways in which you could experience the joy of God’s presence in your life.
• Are there any gifts or talents you have that can be used to benefit those around you in some way? Are you using them?
• Do we realize that we can ask Jesus for anything, even more wine?
• Are we taught that Jesus cares about every aspect of our lives, or only the dire ones?
• Jesus’ first miracle was at a celebration. What does that tells up about what God feels about celebrations and rejoicing? How comfortable are we with the idea that Jesus loves a party?
• The Irish Jesuits, in “Living Space”, see one clear message in this gospel that the genuine Christian knows how to enjoy life. Do I feel that my relationship to Christ and to other Christians is an encouragement to do so?
  Do I see God as the Great Enforcer or as the Life of the Party?
  Do I ever “feel bad about feeling good”?
• Does it upset my image of Mary to see her enjoying herself at a party, and maybe even having a little wine?
• In this gospel, it is Mary’s awareness of the predicament of the bridegroom, and her willingness to speak up to, to go beyond her boundaries to ask Jesus to help. How hard is it to have the perception to see when someone else is struggling?
  Have I ever been alerted to another’s predicament by someone else, when I failed to notice it?
  Did I ever go beyond my own or another’s boundaries to ask someone to help someone else when they had the power to do so?
  How hard was it?
• Have you ever been asked to do something when the timing was inconvenient?
  How did you respond?
  Did it depend on who was doing the asking or on what was being asked?
• Have there ever been times when some member of your family has asked a special favor of you and you were reluctant to comply? What was your reason?
  How did you respond?
• Mary issued Jesus a sort of oblique invitation to help some friends who were needing it. Have I ever invited Jesus to help me with my needs?
• Notice that Mary did not wait to get a verbal agreement from Jesus; she trusted that once alerted to a need that he could meet, he would do so. That trust, some say, is a definition of faith. Do I trust that God will meet my needs?
• Notice the ABUNDANCE with which Jesus’ first miracle takes place. He created more wine than they could drink, and better wine than they had drunk. This is a message that Jesus does not just give the minimum. Do I believe that?
  Is my own generosity that abundant, or is it a teeny bit stingy?
• Jesus was hesitant to respond to Mary’s request, because he did not think he was ready. Mary did not push; she left him to decide for himself what to do. Have I ever been thrust into a situation or a responsibility for which I was not ready?
  How did it feel?
  Have I ever had to encourage someone to get on with his or her mission in life or with his or her relationship issues?
  Was it hard to do so?
• Have I ever been asked to do a favor for someone who needed it badly, but did so with scant grace and a grudging affect?
  Did I ever remind people of what I had done for them?
  How did that advance the relationship?
• The end of this gospel pericope (segment) has the disciples coming to believe in Jesus because of this “sign” of his power and others that came after. How impressed by power am I?
• The evangelist John spends a lot of his gospel focusing on Jesus’ power and divinity. This is awesome for some, but not really relatable for others. What is your favorite gospel and why?
• Did I ever hesitate to ask for help because I was embarrassed to do so—because it hurt my pride or sense of self-worth?
• Have I ever been embarrassed because I did not have enough?
• Metaphorically speaking, has my wine ever run out?
  Did I seek help?
  Did anyone notice and pitch in?
• In what instances has God filled my “wine jars” with abundance?
  Do I remember to be grateful, or do I focus on what I am missing?
• Wine is a synonym for Grace in this gospel. Where do I experience grace (or for that matter, patience, courage, joy, hope)?
• In Church we are all stewards at the feast. We take the wine we are offered and carry it to the others in our community and welcome them to the party that is the Eucharist. Does that image speak to you?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

Read Psalm 96. Twice. Then rewrite it in your journal as a letter that you address to God.

Start with the salutation (“Dear — ”) and give God whatever name/title you want. I knew a priest (Andrew Greeley, I think…) who said that he always addressed God as “Beloved” (Dear Beloved). You should address God as it is comfortable for you. Then transpose the lines of the psalm into the second person (I sing to you a new song, Lord, etc.) At the end, be sure to sign whatever name you want God to recognize you by.

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

This reflection comes from the Creighton Website. Think about Mary’s role in all of this:

It was such a wonderful wedding feast! The music, the dancing, the food and wine. There was a burst of joy just then and Mary looked over at a table where Jesus and his companions had gathered. Jesus had finished his story and the whole table had dissolved in laughter. Mary shook her head with a smile. He captivated people with his stories.

She leaned against the tall, empty water jars as she watched. Her heart filled with such love as she looked at him. She remembered how thirty years ago, she and Joseph had carried the newborn into the temple in Jerusalem. An old man named Simeon had come up to them and asked to hold their child. With tears in his eyes, he held the baby aloft, thanking God. “I have seen your salvation!” he prayed. Anna, one of the temple ancients, had heard Simeon and joined them. She, too, prayed aloud in thanks, and then began waving bystanders over to see the child. Mary and Joseph exchanged glances and wondered again at this child. But the other words Simeon had spoken that day were words she prayed with each morning. That long ago day in the temple, in that small crowd around Anna and Joseph, Simeon had turned to Mary and said quietly, “This child will be the cause of the fall and rise of many in Israel.” Then he touched her shoulder gently. “And you, dear mother, will have your heart pierced in pain.” She and Joseph had talked about this after they left the temple and in the years after. They knew that Jesus was sent by God. She remembered the words of Gabriel. But he was also just … Jesus. He was their little boy who had played in the sawdust of the workshop, run through the streets of their tiny town with the other boys and learned his scriptures.

Since that long ago day in the temple, Joseph had died, and Jesus had been her support and companion. They knew each other’s hearts so well. She watched as he often left the house, wandering out into the desert to pray. She, too, asked the Lord each day to open her own heart. “I know you have called him for a special reason,” she would pray each morning. “Let me be willing to let him go. Let me recognize when it is his time.” She had not pushed him into marriage, even though most of his friends were long since married. She would love grandchildren. Jesus would be such a good father, as Joseph had been. But as she prayed for freedom in her heart, she knew she could only follow the choices Jesus made. And so a few months ago, Jesus had left home, saying he needed to teach. She had blessed her son and sent him out with a prayer. Since he left home, she had heard from some of her kin the story of Jesus’ baptism at the River Jordan and the clouds parting and the voice saying, “This is my beloved son. With you I am well pleased.” They were astonished at it, but when Mary heard the story, the truth of it rested quietly in her heart. Of course.

She was suddenly brought back from her memories to this wedding feast by the whispers next to her as the groom looked wildly around. “Out of wine? How could that be?!” he asked. He knew that it would be a dishonor on his bride and her family to run out of wine at their wedding feast. He looked frantic and lost. Mary saw Jesus stroll outside into the courtyard and she walked out to join him, stopping him with a little hug. “Joshua,” she said tenderly, using his childhood nickname. He wrapped his arms around her and put his cheek to hers. “Imma,” he said warmly, using the most familiar form of Mother. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked. She nodded at him and searched his face and the warm, dark eyes she knew and loved so well. Today she sensed something different in him and in herself. She felt divided. She wanted to keep him close, to protect him, to be with him. She didn’t want to let him go. It was her old struggle with fear. Was she protecting him – or herself too? The words would come back to her: Your heart will be pierced… But as she did over and over each day, she turned her spirit to the Lord. “Open my heart. Give me the freedom to let him go. Let me not be afraid.”

Then suddenly, she knew. Standing there in the courtyard embracing her son, she understood. It was his time.

She looked up at him. “Joshua … they have run out of wine.” It was all she said. He looked past her into the house at the family and saw from their discomfort that it was true. Their host was having whispered conversations with headwaiters, servants and uncles all at once. “Imma,” he said then paused with an imperceptible shake of his head. “I’m not… It’s not…” He stopped and looked into the dark eyes that matched his own. “Not yet,” he hesitated.

Her struggle was over. She smiled at him in peace and left him in the courtyard to pray to his abba, as he always did. Mary was not sure what this all meant; only that she had to say to him, “They are out of wine.” She walked back into the house and said softly to the servants, “I know you need some help. Just do whatever Jesus asks you to do.” They looked bewildered but nodded their heads.

After a while, Mary saw Jesus return to the house with a deep serenity in his eyes. He walked up to two servants and gestured to the water jars lining the walls. “Fill these with water.” They were confused – the ceremonial washings were already over. Who needed more water in these jars? But they did as he asked. “Now, draw out a cup” he said gently, “and take it to the headwaiter.” He walked back to his table. It made no sense but they remembered Mary’s words and so carried a brimming cup to the headwaiter. He took a sip, glanced over at their full jars and smiled for the first time today. “Where did you get this?” The two servants looked at each other open-mouthed but the steward didn’t wait for an answer. Mary watched as the headwaiter called the groom over and chuckled in relief. “You have this magnificent wine – and you saved it? When I serve a wedding, I usually use the best wine at the beginning but this is a perfect taste – and you saved it for so late in the feast!” She watched the bridegroom’s puzzled face but the steward had already turned away, giving orders to the servants to serve the wine. The music began again and the bridegroom shrugged and rejoined the festivities.

Mary felt joy and peace. As she moved to rejoin the women’s table, she glanced over at the servants. They were whispering to other servants and pointing to Jesus. It had begun. His life would never be the same. Neither would hers.

She sat on the end of the bench and paused for just a second, quietly opening her hands on her lap, whispering, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord.” Then she turned back to the women at the table.

Poetic Reflection:

Read the following poem (from Entries) by Wendell Berry. How does it say we as humans generally respond to the gifts God has bestowed?

“Two Questions”

If you provided a marriage feast and the thankless guests crowded at the table, gobbling the food without tasting it, and shoving one another away, so that some ate too much and some ate nothing, would you not be offended?

If, seated at your bountiful table your guests picked and finicked over the food, eating only a little, refusing the wine and the dessert, claiming that to fill their bellies and rejoice would impair their souls, would you not be offended?

Poetic Reflection:

One of these is a bit darker than the other. Which do you prefer?

Indifferent to miracles the crowd never stopping to notice harried servers schlepping replenished jars Over here we need wine over here this thirsty crowd’s getting louder — here’s another toast — all upheld cups get topped off the meaty cook in his apron a cloth for handling hot platters thrown over his right shoulder stands by the head table describing to the wedding party and rabbi the feast about to be served the young boy rolling an empty barrel back to the cellar dogs, children, townsfolk, the couple in the balcony arguing, the crone reeking of body odor they say her breath will sour milk As for the guests in the far corner those standing about that slim young man with hands clasped in front they notice the aura of light

—by John Norton

“Christ at Cana”

At the table basted with food he is lost, sees only the Baptist’s head torn away,

the empty eyes as rank as milk in a dish.

Long after the wind has come and the young happy marrieds are twisting on the bed,

he stays at the table, fingers the empty cup, thinks of the water.

—by John Foulcher

(John Foulcher is one of Australia’s foremost contemporary poets—he’s Canberra based, just recently retired as Deputy Principal of Burgmann Anglican school.)

Closing Prayer

Thank you Lord, for all the mothers in my life that brought me here, in this time, with this life. I pray for all the mothers who are struggling to help their children, no matter their age, with life decisions, with failed relationships, with broken hearts, even with the effects of too much success. [Take a moment to think of a particular person or particular people whom you especially commend to the Lord’s loving care.]