This past week I found myself on an unexpected trip back to
where I grew up- a small town outside of Youngstown, Ohio. Because the Friday
before that my best friend’s mother died. I met my best friend when I was three
years old. We lived one block apart, so over the years we spent a lot of time
together, eventually getting our first jobs together, visiting each other in
college, standing in each other’s weddings and holding each other’s babies.
Through all of that her mother was a steady presence. Someone who always
welcomed me and was always there. So I was very sad when she died, but also my
heart broke for my friend. She was very close to her mom and as our parents age
we know that there will come a day when we will have to say goodbye, but there
really is no way to prepare for it. And so I cried as I thought of her pain and
grieving. And I was so overwhelmed with pride for her as she told me the story
of how she sat next to her mother that final night, showering her in love,
reassuring her, getting her what she needed and honoring her wishes of how she
wanted to die. So when the funeral arrangements were set for last Wednesday, I
bought an Amtrak ticket, packed a bag and headed to Ohio …. And I wasn’t the
only one. Our other close friends also called off work, bought plane tickets
and made travel plans. And the sister of my friend also had her friends coming
in from all over the country. Plus, their mother’s friends and family. Many
people came together.
And with each person came more flowers and more food. Soon
the kitchen table where her mother had prepared many meals, was covered in
cookies and deli trays and ice cream and snacks until they piled up and overflowed
onto other surfaces. People came and brought things and offered hugs and shared
memories and loving words all to try to show something we couldn’t show. The
piles of food and the packed rooms were all people trying to make tangible what
is intangible. And that’s love. Every cracker, every lily, every car parked
outside was a sign of love, a reaction to what was felt in our hearts, a way to
show the abundance of feelings that cannot be seen but only felt. And we all
hoped that it would bring love and comfort and warmth to their grieving hearts.
I thought about this as I was looking out the window on my
train home Thursday and reflecting on today’s Gospel passage. I have sometimes
heard this passage used as a way to show God’s blessing on weddings or parties
or even drinking. But I wonder …is that perhaps looking at the materials rather
than the reason? Like someone bringing cookies to the home of a grieving loved
one and that being interpreted as “they really think cookies are special and
important” rather than seeing the intent behind it? The Gospel of John refers
to what happened at this wedding in Cana as a “sign” and of course signs point
to something else. Just like a cookie or flowers brought to the grieving, the
water turned to wine is about the love behind it. God’s love for God’s people-
something intangible represented by something tangible.
God loves us. And in order to show that love, God comes to
be with us through Jesus and Jesus performs signs and miracles to show that
love here on earth. A way of making
something invisible, visible. God’s love poured out for us through giant
containers of wine filled to the brim.
And the Gospel tells us that they really were full and
there were many. It was an abundance. There was no shortage. And it was
noticeable and appreciated by the guests. The image of a heavenly banquet is
used frequently in the Bible. A depiction of a great feast with ample food with
all needs met and an abundance of blessings. This is the image God gives us for
our final reunion with God into eternity. Overflowing, abundant love.
But Jesus does not stand up and announce to the crowd that
it was him who did this. And yet, the text says the disciples saw this and
believed in him. All of this is about convincing his followers that he is who
he says he is. That Jesus is God and his words and actions are a sign of God’s
love for us.
But, in addition to the disciples, there is another example
of one who believes in this text. I’ve always found the exchange with Mary at
the beginning of this passage a little odd and not at all how one would expect
a conversation between mother and son to go. So I did a bit of digging and in
his commentary on this passage, Biblical Scholar Gilberto Ruiz, explains the
kind of stiff and formal language Jesus uses with Mary. When Mary tells Jesus
that there is no more wine he says, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to
me? My hour has not yet come.” It sounds a bit like “who cares and stop
bothering me” and if either of my sons referred to me as “woman” I would
definitely be taken aback. But, Ruiz explains that this language was not at all
rude or even unusual for that time. It was common to address someone as “woman”
and the expression he uses is “a common Semitic expression that implies a sense
of disengagement, not active hostility.” That said, even in those days, it was
not typical family talk and implies some distance in the conversation between
Jesus and his mom. This is not about a mother/son moment, but rather about
understanding God’s timing.
Mary is not taken aback by this exchange and turns around
and says to the servants, “do whatever he tells you.” She is not bewildered or
hesitant or upset, she is completely confident that Jesus will do the right
thing. His explanation that “his hour has not yet come” seems to make sense to
her as she trusts his understanding of God’s time regardless of whatever sense
of urgency people may feel. Mary seems to completely get all of it. In telling
him about the wine, she understands what he can do and in telling the servants
to do whatever he says, she trusts him, his timing and his decision-making
fully. Of course, we are not far past Christmas so many of us still have the
image of Mary at the birth witnessing the angels in our minds, so it may not be
surprising that she understands all of this, but still an incredible witness of
faith and trust right from the beginning, when Jesus is first building his
following.
What Mary understood and what the disciples were starting
to see is that God provides. And as they drank their wine, maybe it was easy
for the disciples to believe, but over time as they journeyed with Jesus and
began to understand just what that means, and how far it would go- it perhaps
became more difficult, especially as they watched him suffer and die. And yet,
Jesus understood it all and continued to show through actions, signs, miracles
and words that God provides abundance. Abundant love, abundant care and an
abundant desire to be in relationship with us. The intangible love poured out
for us through wine. The invisible grace made visible through the body of
Christ.
Last Wednesday after I went to the funeral I went over to
my friend’s house. A house that hosted many sleepovers, dinners, holidays and
parties. A house I know better than my own. An address that will forever be
ingrained in my memory. I wasn’t sure what it would be like going there knowing
my friend’s mom wouldn’t be there. What would it be like to see her things
still around, her bed empty and her family missing her deeply. Soon after I
entered, my friends’ very young daughters and nieces handed me a little ticket
and begged everyone to please come downstairs for the performance. We
obediently took our places and paid close attention as the Taylor Swift music
began playing and they began their performance of twirls, cartwheels, spins,
hair flips and giggles. They were holding hands and spinning as their tiny
faces lit up with joy. And we all smiled with them and applauded and
enthusiastically “oooohed and aaaaahhhed” every wild and energetic moment.
I thought I would be entering a house that felt empty … and
my friend’s mom’s absence was deeply felt and very real …. But the house was
not empty. Where I thought there might be emptiness was actually full of
abundance. Those little girls loved their grandma and will miss her dearly, but
in every smile and giggle and hug for each other, their grandma’s memory was
present, her legacy passed on and her deep love for them present. God provides.
Of course that doesn’t mean we don’t hurt or grieve, or long for or suffer …
but God’s abundance continues to pour out onto us.
As
a hospital chaplain I hear many stories of grief and loss. People will share
with me their deepest stories of hurt- losing loved ones and figuring out how
to go on without them. I usually ask them what helped them get through those
darkest times and again and again I see their face lighten as they look at me
and say “God …. That’s the only way I got through.” Something intangible made
tangible through strength and perseverance, hope and resiliency. Water into
wine … cookies on the table …. Abundance where there was emptiness.
