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.
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.
