Several years ago, there was a small drama when my sister was getting married. Being from a large family herself and with her husband-to-be one of ten children she wanted to keep the number of invited guests to a reasonable number so she decided that first cousins would be as far up the family tree she would climb. My grandmother was not happy. She wanted her siblings, my sister’s great aunts and uncles, to be invited. But there was simply not enough room. The Dear Abby-type advice columns in the newspaper feature some variation of my sister’s family drama several times each week. It seems that weddings can produce as much family tension as they do family joy. This seems relevant on a day when the Bible records that Jesus attended a wedding. Apparently, it was a family affair since his mother was there too. St. John includes this observation: His disciples were also invited to the wedding. This is pure speculation on my part but I wonder if Jesus said to his cousin Shlomo “You know I travel with a posse now. Could they come to your wedding too?” Shlomo being in a benevolent mood said, “Sure. The more the merrier.” If this scenario is true then the reason they ran out of wine was because of the extra guests who came with Jesus. When his mother confronted him about the situation, she is assuming that Jesus bears some of the responsibility for the problem. You helped cause this. What are you going to do about it? A little family tension crept into their exchange.
Mother Mary ends the conversation not with any resolution about the issue but by putting everything in the hands of Jesus. She tells those around, “Do whatever he tells you.” These are the last words that the gospels report Mary as speaking. They might serve as her last will and testament to us as the most valuable bequest she could give. If we would just do whatever he tells us all will be well. The problem arises that much of what Jesus tells us to do is much harder than filling up a water jar. For example, Jesus tells us: “Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you.” That’s kind of stretch for me Jesus particularly when Jesus adds we should also turn the other cheek when someone strikes us on the right. My instinct doesn’t go to cheek-turning very readily. And Jesus tells us to forgive seventy times seven times. Won’t that make me a patsy and open to being hurt again and again? And how about those things Jesus said we are to do in the Sermon on the Mount. Stop worrying. Your heavenly Father knows what you need. Stop judging then you won’t be judged. I don’t know about you but I do worry and I do judge. Doing what Jesus asks us to do does not come easily or naturally. Despite our desire to be disciples of Jesus what he asks of us sometimes seems unrealistically out of reach.
My excuse for not doing what Jesus tells us: “Oh, that’s just me.” I’m not the kind of person that likes to get pushed around. I am the kind of person who remembers the grudges. I’m the kind of person who worries a lot. Since that is the kind of person that I am no amount of will power or discipline is likely to help me become better at doing what Jesus tells us. All of which is a long way of saying that what we have here is a “being” problem, not a “doing” problem. All of you old philosophers out there will remember the principle agere sequitur esse, doing flows from being. What we do is a reflection of who we are. If we are going to do what Jesus tells us we must have a change of heart, we must become a different kind of person, we must have a conversion if we are to be genuine followers of Christ.
St. Paul calls Jesus the “new Adam.” He wants us to understand that humanity is different because the Son of God chose to share human existence. We are a new creation, a different kind of species, no longer homo sapiens but homo Christiano, as followers of Jesus. While we live in the same world as before, we see things differently because of faith. Yes, there are real problems out there: wars around the globe, gun violence in our own streets, political unwillingness to deal with climate change, viruses and other bugs that threaten our health, income inequality, breakdown of family ties, unjust treatment of immigrants, widespread racism. The list goes on. Given those realities our tendency is to make our own way and everybody else get out of my way. But because we are a new creation in Christ we live now in an atmosphere of grace which enables us to look at this world and the troubles of this world in a new light. We understand that God creative hand continues to be at work, that love is stronger than death, that forgiveness brings healing, that whatever burden we carry is easy and light since we share it with Jesus, that the cross transforms suffering into glory, that Good Friday leads to Easter Sunday. When we see our lives in a world charged with grace we can do what Jesus tells us because we understand that in God’s time all will be well.
Since the pandemic every day at Mass we say a prayer for a spiritual communion. Since not everyone could receive the sacrament in bodily form of bread and wine we ask that we might receive Jesus in our hearts. There is a line in the prayer that gives me pause every day. “My Jesus, I love you above all things.” Is that true? My prayers is that I’ll get over loving my plans, my desires, my dreams, my way and instead love what Jesus tells us to do for that is the path toward joy.
