A New Look at Cana

A Guest Feature by Christine Eberle

Photo by Oshin Khandelwal on Unsplash

In the past year, it has been a joy to connect with other creatives and to engage with their beautiful art. This week I am utterly delighted to begin sharing glimpses of their work with you through guest features. In these features, I will share original pieces by fellow writers as well as how you can follow their work and upcoming events.

Now, without further ado, please enjoy Christine Eberle’s essay on this coming week’s gospel reading, John 2:1-11: The Wedding at Cana.

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Can I just say that there are parts of this story I’ve never liked? One part, really: Jesus’ TONE with his MOTHER! (I’ve often said you can tell you’re listening to John if Jesus sounds like a jerk.)

Mary has just told him that the hosts have no more wine—an egregious hospitality violation and profound embarrassment for the family. “Woman,” he replies, “How does your concern affect me? My hour has not come.” Which leads his mother to say to the servers, “Do whatever he tells you.” (Not exactly a logical segue.)

A friend this week mused that John must have omitted the part where the Blessed Mother hauled off and gave her son as much what-for as a sinless woman could get away with.

I think Jesus’ response rubs a lot of people the wrong way. I’m not going to get into the scholarly justifications or theological implications of the word “woman,” and how Jesus isn’t using it here the way we hear it today. Our ears are our ears, and to those ears he sounds pompous. Condescending. Downright rude.

In exchange for which, Mary pulls a fast one, takes the matter straight to the headwaiter, calls Jesus out in public, backs him into a corner. “Do whatever he tells you,” she says. Take that, kid!

And yet that doesn’t sound much like the Blessed Mother we know and love, now does it? It sounds more like a character in a TV show. If you’re a fan of the sitcom Modern Family, try this: Play that whole exchange in your head again, only with Gloria and Manny instead of Mary and Jesus. (Sorry if that’s still in your head next time you hear the Gospel. But it works, doesn’t it?)

Yet surely, that’s not right. That’s our modern sensibility and presumption of conflict and love a of a good family drama layering back over the story. So tonight at Mass I began to wonder . . . what if Jesus sounded different than I usually hear him in this exchange?

What if his questions to his mother were not arrogant, but anxious?

What if they had been having this conversation at home, round and round, for weeks or months or even years? What if he had been agonizing over when and where and how to take the irrevocable step? What if Mary had been advising him, saying “Don’t worry about finding the perfect moment. Thirty-three years and nine months now I’ve been pondering things in my heart. Just do it!”

No wait; that’s still not right. The Blessed Mother never starred in a Nike commercial.

So let’s back up. What if they’d been having this conversation for however long, and she had been advising him, saying “Don’t worry about finding the perfect moment. You’ll know. You will just know. You’ll feel it in your heart.” And what if, when she overhead the panicky whispers about the wine, she felt her own heart drop into her stomach? What might their exchange have sounded like then?

I imagine Mary sliding up next to Jesus quietly in the crowd, her voice pitched so low that only he can hear. “They have no more wine,” she says. Putting it out there. Seeing if he picks it up.

He lets it lie for a moment. Not sure if he’s ready. “Woman, how does your concern affect me?” Feigning ignorance. “My hour has not yet come.” Wishful thinking.

And Mary raises her eyes to meet his in a long, steady gaze. She is not going to push this. She knows there’s no turning back. If he takes her up on this their quiet life at home will be over. Forever. The sword that is going to piece her heart will be drawn from its scabbard. They both know how scary this is.

Then in Jesus face, something shifts. Someone who had not been watching that face his whole life might not even have seen it. But Mary sees acceptance, and courage, and a willingness to begin. She sees enough to shoot her hand out and grab the wrist of the passing headwaiter, without ever taking her eyes off her son.

Do whatever he tells you, she says.

I think I like the story better now.

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I had the pleasure of first meeting Christine through Jesuit Media Lab’s Creative Summit this past summer. Within 24 hours of introducing ourselves, I was comfortable enough with Christine to plop myself down in a bus seat beside her and lay my head on her shoulder. That is the warmth and humor of Christine’s presence. Both of which I feel are evident in this essay! To learn more about Christine’s various creative offerings, read below:

Christine has just come out with her third book ‘Finding God Along the Way: Wisdom from the Ignatian Camino for Life at Home’ and if you enjoyed this piece, you are going to love her book! She kindly gave me an advanced reading copy and I had to temper my pace so as not to read it entirely in one sitting.

If you would like to sign up for Christine’s newsletter, find her blog, or stay updated on her speaking engagements, find them all here on her website.

Christine is conducting a Book Reflection Series (via Zoom) through the wonderful SSJ Center for Spirituality in Ocean Grove, NJ on the four Wednesdays of February. They’re from 6:30 - 7:30 p.m. Eastern, the whole series is $60, and you can register here.

The Ignatian Volunteer Corps (IVC) is hosting a book launch webinar for Christine on Monday evening, February 10 from 7:30 - 8:45 p.m. Eastern; panelists will include fellow pilgrims from my Ignatian Camino, and there will be time for Q&A from participants. Register for this free event here.

Thank you each for reading! I appreciate the gift of your time. And a big thank you to Christine for her generosity in sharing this piece with us here at The Pondering Heart!