Second Sunday in Ordinary Time (Cycle C)

Lessons from Cana

Isaiah 62:1-5; 1 Corinthians 12:4-11; John 2:1-11 

As you can see, this morning I’m wearing a green stole. For the Church, green is more than just the color of the day; it’s the color of the season. And so, after preparing for our Lord’s coming in purple during the season of Advent, and celebrating his birth in white during the Christmas season, we have now settled back into the green of Ordinary Time. Today is actually the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time. Ordinary Time kind of slipped in quietly last Sunday as we celebrated the Solemnity of the Baptism of the Lord.

In addition to returning to Ordinary Time, we also return to our normal cycle of readings for the year. As you may recall, there are three cycles of Sunday readings. In Cycle A, the focus is on the Gospel of Matthew, Cycle B: Mark, and Cycle C (which is the cycle we're currently in): Luke. But interestingly, the gospel that you just heard me proclaim, isn’t from Luke’s Gospel. It’s from John. There is no cycle of readings dedicated to John’s Gospel, so John is heard periodically within the other three cycles.

And how appropriate it is that today we hear John’s recounting of the wedding feast of Cana. After celebrating the Baptism of the Lord last Sunday, the event which inaugurated Jesus’ public ministry, today we are presented with the account of Jesus’ first public miracle.

From this story, we hear that Jesus, His mother, and His disciples all attended a wedding that took place in Cana in Galilee. Cana was a town about 9 miles north of Nazareth--the city where Jesus and His family lived.

A wedding celebration in the first century was a gala occasion, even more than weddings are today. The wedding celebration usually lasted about a week and some lasted up to two weeks. During this week long festival, normally everyone in the community attended the event. It was considered an insult to refuse a wedding invitation. This means that hundreds of people made an appearance to congratulate the newlyweds.

As to the ceremony itself, it would be scheduled for a Wednesday evening to allow travelers to avoid the necessity of going any distance on the Sabbath. It would be preceded by a huge feast, with the actual exchanging of the vows late in the evening. Afterwards, the couple would be led on a winding trek through the town by the light of flaming torches, a canopy over their heads, allowing the other townspeople the opportunity for congratulations and good wishes, ending up at the couple's new home. Then for another week or so, the newlyweds would host an open house. They would wear crowns and dress in their bridal robes. In a life of poverty and hard work, such a week was truly a great occasion.

When the guests attended the celebration, the host of the party was expected to provide them with food and wine. And if for some reason the host failed in providing adequately for the guests, it was considered a social disgrace. Running out of wine and food meant more than embarrassment; it broke the strong unwritten laws of hospitality. In the closely-knit communities of Jesus’ day, such an error would never be forgotten and would haunt the newly married couple all their lives.

In today's gospel, the host of the party did the unthinkable--he ran out of wine. So Mary, the mother of our Lord, told Jesus of the predicament, expecting Him to do something about it.

Jesus’ response seems surprising to us and perhaps even a bit rude. He says to his mother, “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.” Yet Mary is the first disciple, the first one to have faith in her Son. So despite what appears to be his resounding “NO,” she instructs the servants, “Do whatever he tells you,” and Jesus then, or soon after, tells the servants to fill six stone water jars, each one holding a capacity of twenty to thirty gallons, with water. The servants, following Jesus’ instruction, draw some of the water transformed into wine to the headwaiter, who after sampling it, comments to the bridegroom that he has chosen to serve the choicest wine till last.

There are three points that I’d like to make concerning this passage. First, the miracle we hear about in today’s gospel speaks of both the quantity and quality of God’s love and blessings to us. Each jar held twenty to thirty gallons. Have you done the math? That was 150 gallons of wine, far beyond what the wedding revelers needed. There's an inverse ratio between the problem of running out of wine at the wedding and the bizarre abundance of the solution. But we have a God that doesn’t skimp. The God that Jesus revealed is a God of lavish liberality, generosity and extravagance. God’s love and his blessings are not rationed out, carefully apportioned. They’re given generously and readily. Furthermore, whereas most hosts serve the best wine first when people will appreciate the quality, and cheaper wine later when no one can taste the difference, Jesus reversed the pattern by saving the best for last. So too when God answers our prayers. His response to our requests is never lacking, second rate, or merely adequate. The gifts and blessings he bestows are always the best, extravagant, and more than we deserve.

The second point that I want to draw to your attention to concerns Mary’s instructions to the servants: “Do whatever He tells you.” Although Mary will be present throughout the gospels in various times and situations, these words are the last words we hear her speak: “Do whatever He tells you.”

Throughout history, we’ve had a fascination with the last words that a person speaks. Some have been of little consequence. For example, Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s last words were, “I have a terrible headache.” And Washington Irving said, “Well, I must arrange my pillow for another weary night.” Other final words were a little more theatrical: Broadway producer Florenz Ziegfield said, “Lights! I am ready for the finale. The show looks good.” Beethoven said, “Applaud my friends, the comedy is over.” Then, there were those who spoke lastly about their concerns for the next life. Horatio Nelson Algiers said, “Thank God, I have done my duty.” Edgar Poe said, “Lord, help my poor soul.”

And Mary . . . Mary said, “Do whatever He tells you.” I believe those words are directed more towards us, than they were to the servants in today’s gospel. “Do whatever He tells you:” profound advice and perhaps even at times subtle correction from a loving, spiritual mother to us, her children. You know, if you took all of the things that Mary is credited with saying in all her apparitions, whether it be in Knock, Ireland; Lourdes, France; Fatima, Portugal, or Medjugorja, Croatia, all things could be edited down to one simple sentence: “Do whatever He tells you.” The rest is mere commentary.

The final point I want to make also has to do with Mary. Notice the dynamics of today’s gospel. Even though Jesus apparently says “no” to his mother’s request, he nonetheless grants it. Why? Because what good son can deny his mother anything? For me, this speaks of why Mary is such a great intercessor with her Son on our behalf. If we get Mary to plead our case to her Son for us, chances are great that our prayer will be granted.

And so, today, we like those invited guests to the wedding feast at Cana marvel at the generosity and lavishness of our Lord’s love for us and his blessings to us. And truly with confidence, we add our voices to all those who for over five hundred years have called upon our Blessed Mother’s intercession through the prayer, the Memorare:

Remember, O Most Gracious Virgin Mary,

that never was it known 

that anyone who fled to Thy protection, 

implored Thy help 

or sought Thy intercession, was left unaided. 

Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto Thee, O Virgin of Virgins, my Mother;
To Thee do I come, before thee I kneel, sinful and sorrowful.
O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions,
but in Thy mercy, hear and answer me. Amen.