And
we saw His glory.
‘There
was a wedding feast in Cana, in Galilee.’
It was by the sign worked at the marriage
feast that Jesus entered the public arena, and chose to manifest His Divinity
and His Mission for the first time. He allowed His Mother, Mary, to instigate
this: a miracle.
However, this miracle which is now so
well-known was performed with great discretion. The conversation Jesus had with
His Mother was private, and nobody saw the moment the miracle took place. Even
the Evangelist himself did not see it.
Neither the guests, nor the master of the
feast, nor the newly-weds were aware of what was going on. It was only the
servants who knew that where there had once been water, there was now wine. A
young guest had asked them to fill the pitchers with water, and they were now
full of wine. And the feast went on. And Jesus returned to His Mother.
The Gospel tells us that He revealed His
glory, but only the disciples saw His glory shine forth: ‘His disciples believed in Him.’ Jesus did not do this for the sake
of the crowd of guests, but for His own small band. Just as will always be the
case, the least miracle is always, first and foremost, a sign: what is given to
be seen, is first of all given to be believed.
The significance of that wedding feast at
Cana far surpasses the provincial context of that country wedding. It was meant
for whoever has eyes to see, for whoever can apply some theological thinking,
for John the Evangelist, and perhaps for us, who are reflecting on it today.
St John understood that Jesus was starting
His preaching from the very point where the prophets of the Old Testament had
ended theirs: the marriage of God to His people.
Before the coming of Jesus, before His
Incarnation, Humanity had no wine. The wine that Jesus brings is the wine of
grace, which quenches, disinfects and heals; that same good wine which the
Samaritan poured on the feet of the man left for dead by the side of the road;
the wine of justice and mercy.
Jesus did not want to make the wine out of
nothing, but out of the water in the pitchers brought by the servants. In the same way, His mission is not to
create something new out of nothing, but rather to bring the old covenant to
perfection, and restore mankind to God.
The new Covenant, drawn from this new wine, which is the blood of Christ,
is the wedding ring of God and His people. The young wife changes her name from
now on, she takes the name of her husband from the day of their marriage. Now
she is called the Bride of Christ.
A new love is carved in the midst of this alliance: its name
is charity. Charity is the nuptial bond between Christ and the Church. Whoever
fails to understand that has not understood the Church at all, nor the
Christian life. To reduce the Church to its history, or its sociology, or to
reduce Catholics to their failures and infirmities, is to remain on the
outside. When one does not look at
the interior reality of things, even the outside remains incomprehensible.
There are people who are capable of mixing an excellent Bordeaux wine with
water – or even with Coca Cola! And a wine that is kept for too long without
being drunk, turns to vinegar. In the same way to look at the Church with any
look other than Christ’s is to fail to understand the wine of Charity, the
mystery of the Church.
But if one does look within, one discovers
a more subtle wine. Such is the nectar of a spiritual marriage, the wine of the
marriage of Christ and the soul. This is not a wine only for the initiated: it
is offered to everyone.
The marriage of Christ to the soul is the
vocation of every Christian. By the very fact of his baptism, he is promised
that marriage, the bond is sealed. The marriage is the baptismal grace, which
conquers like love, like a personal story. God desires to live in that soul.
And so we must look after that soul, make
it habitable, not create an unpleasant impression for the Bridegroom when He
crosses the threshold, as if we had forgotten that He was invited, as if
nothing is ready, with disorder everywhere so that we have to improvise
everything at the moment of His arrival.
How many times must the Bridegroom of the
soul put up with the incoherence of His bride! Of course, she is not a bad
girl, but she is a little superficial and ungrateful. She speaks before
thinking, and acts before praying. Instead of drinking of her husband’s rich
win of charity, we see her get drunk on watery beer and cheap plonk. The groom
awaits: He is patient. So why had you
left already? Where were you? Is this the time for you to come back? I had
prepared something for you, I had so many things to say to you!
‘There
was a Wedding feast at Cana in Galilee…’
‘Blessed
are those invited to the Lamb’s feast!’
The wine which He serves comforts us. This
wine is the Blood of the Lamb, sacrificed on the altar of the New Covenant.
Today, Jesus is calling us to the wedding
feast of the soul: we were water – may He make wine of us.
The
Raising of the Widow’s Son. (Christ’s compassion for our human nature)
When Jesus works a miracle, it is to reveal
something to us. He doesn’t just return someone to life in order to return him
to life; or heal someone simply to heal him. It is also to reveal to us that He
is the Life; that He can heal. The truth is, that He returns someone to life in
the way that only God can; He heals in the way that only God can.
That is why each one of His miracles has a
theological aspect; after Cana, we see in the raising of the widow’s son at
Naim another reality made visible.
It is also a reminder, a re-visiting of the
Old Testament. With every miracle, Jesus makes us recall this passage from the
prophet Isaiah: ‘We will see the glory of
the Lord, the splendour of our God, and the eyes of the blind will see, and the
ears of the deaf will be opened, the lame will leap like a stag, and the mutes’
mouth will sing out with joy. Those whom the Lord has saved will return.’
Once again we are seeing here the glory of the Lord, the divinity of Jesus. The
sick are healed and the dead are brought back to life, and they return because
they have been ransomed.
The purpose of this miracle is to show
forth the glory of the Lord. Jesus makes the bed-ridden dance, makes the dead
walk, and the theological resonance is to show that redemption has come.
Our healing is being accomplished: that is
the lesson that Jesus is teaching. His purpose is to manifest the mystery of
God, and His teaching is to make us understand that our redemption is
accomplished.
Nonetheless, this healing, destined for
all, must be made little by little, and gently, for there are some medicines
which are so powerful that they risk killing the sick person. That is why the
public aspect of the miracles differs. Often, Jesus forbids people from talking
about them, and He performs the miracle almost in passing, discretely. He
forbids people from talking, but that is in vain, because everyone will talk
about a miracle.
Notice how Jesus proceeds here. He is first
of all moved with compassion for this mother, the mother of an only son. He too
knows what it is to be the only Son of His mother.
The mother was a widow: the Fathers of the
Church have seen in this mother the Church; the Church which accompanies man,
who is afflicted by the death of sin for the whole of his terrestrial journey. The
Church, which enables man to encounter the grace of the Resurrection: the
Church, our mother.
The miracles of Jesus are worked with great
discretion, and Jesus reveals who He is progressively. First, to the Chosen
People, Israel; only afterwards to the rest of the world. He moves from the
inmost to the outermost. In fact
there is one people chosen: the whole of humanity, chosen by God. But because
so vast a love is incomprehensible for our dry and hardened hearts, God chose
first of all, in order to teach us, to realise His plan of salvation initially
through a specific people: Israel, and then to expand it. It is therefore true
that the Church is the chosen people, following on from the election of the
people of Israel. And Jesus’ purpose was to show that salvation is already
underway.
His habitual way of doing that is by
miracles. And a miracle is always concrete. Jesus gives life back to the soul
by way of the body. And He does it with authority. He draws near, He touches
the coffin, the coffin-bearers stop, and He says: ”young man, I say to you, arise!’ And immediately the dead man got
up. Jesus likes to operate like this: He doesn’t save at a distance, but by
grasping the young man. And it is clear that everyone in the funeral procession
recognised Jesus’ authority. In
the same way, one does not invent one’s God, one’s religion, or one’s Church.
One does not pardon oneself. One receives forgiveness from someone else.
Resurrection is received.
And Jesus stops the procession, touches the
coffin, and returns the son to His mother. Everything is received from Him.
There is always a great danger in constructing a religion that is distant and
cerebral, where everything is arranged with a God who never has to put Himself
out.
Jesus is seized by compassion: and thus he
shows us His human nature; He works the miracle, and thus He shows us His
Divine Nature; for God alone is the master of life and death.
This miracle restores Faith: everyone said,
God has visited His people.
Faith is not complete unless it is spoken,
confessed, proclaimed. The Christian cannot be clandestine: he must proclaim
the Faith that lives in his soul. The Christian who is unmoved by another, or
who hides the fact that he is a Christian, is a dead Christian.
This page of the Gospel is really vivid:
the gates of the city, the funeral procession, the only son, the weeping
mother, and lots of people. And Jesus halts this dignified and emotional crowd.
He wants to demonstrate that from now onwards, salvation is close at hand, with
means that are both more divine and more human. And He demonstrates it in His
own person. God is not a distant God: He has the face of Jesus, and is full of
compassion. That is at the same time both unexpected and embarrassing.
It is easy to ignore an idea. But it is
difficult to turn our eyes away from such a look. From now on, our situation
with regard to God is a face-to-face encounter.
And a face-to-face encounter is never
simple. In short, Jesus shows us that God has made contact with us. Instituting
a face-to-face encounter, He also demonstrates it to us in the salvation He
offers us, in Him and after Him. It is the Church that leads us on the path to
the Resurrection. The Sacraments are realities that accomplish in us what Jesus
has inaugurated: an interior resurrection.
And if Jesus’ miracles are so physical,
that also serves to remind us that we cannot live as Christians without a real
acceptance of the world and of the body. Washed, oiled, nourished, taught and
pardoned by a human voice; touched by signs and symbols, gestures and words:
all of these things are so physical yet also so spiritual: these are the Church
and the Sacraments. They are not mere signposts. They are efficacious signs of
our salvation, the realities of our salvation. It was not for nothing that God
created us with a body that lives and suffers, that hungers, thirsts, loves and
moves. Moreover in heaven our salvation will be perfectly realised with our
body duly resuscitated, glorified, and raised to its true greatness. That is our vocation – for
all of us.
Let
us end with another miracle of Our Lord: His Transfiguration
Fundamentally, the Transfiguration is a
foretaste of Heaven. The friendly meeting on Mount Tabor is a prefigurement of
the holy friendship which will unite us all in God, without any shadow or
pretence. ‘How good and sweet it is for
brothers to live together,’ says the Psalmist. ‘It is good for us to be here,’ answers St Peter.
How good it will be for us to be in Heaven,
to engage in tireless conversation with Our Lady and the Apostles, the holy
martyrs, doctors, confessors and virgins. And above all with Christ Himself!
This eternal friendship in Heaven is the fruit of our Saviour’s sacrifice. It
is up to us to make our way there, every day and every moment of our life.
The
Transfiguration: a model of our own Transfiguration
But finally, by means of this miraculous
scene, it is our own transfiguration that Our Lord wishes to teach us. Not that
the glory that God has reserved for us should be manifested here below! That
would not be very good for our humility…
A change of heart: that is what God wants
of us! He will send us His transforming grace, only on condition that we ask
for it. It is up to us to make the first step towards Him, because ‘God who created us without us, will not save
us without us.’ Our transfiguration is a joint work of nature and grace. It
is up to us to desire this transformation of ourselves. Let us not delay in
putting this into practice: we should not keep God waiting! It is up to us to
help ourselves, to give up our old habits, to flee the daily grind. ‘I have spoken, now I will begin,’ sings
the Psalmist
Therefore, as it is never too late to
start, let us climb Mount Tabor, to fill ourselves with the presence of God,
and ceaselessly sing the glory of our Saviour.
For it is there that Jesus shows forth His
glory, and prepares the chosen three apostles for the drama of the Passion.
There is no joy without the Cross.
God takes care of everything we abandon to
His care. Let us give Him whatever we have refused to give Him up till now. For,
to love is to give everything.