Marriage is not a piece of cake. Those who marry do so full of hope. Sometimes the hope is within the range of the possible; sometimes it’s completely unreasonable. Sometimes hopes are met—even exceeded; and sometimes the desolation one feels in life comes from hopes dashed—not only unmet, but even thrown back in one’s face.
The image of marriage is one of the oldest used by the prophets to describe the covenant relationship between God and Israel. In the passage from Isaiah we heard today, Isaiah is trying to raise the hopes of a desolate people. They are exiled from their homeland, virtual slaves of the Babylonians. Why? Because they have abandoned their first love and chased after whoever made eyes at them. Now they find themselves alone, without a companion, forsaken. But through Isaiah, God speaks of a moment when his people will be back at home, their love renewed, their faith restored, their joy overflowing.
When John tells the story of the sign given at the wedding at Cana, he holds up for us the fulfillment—the beginning of the fulfillment, at least—of the prophecy here in Isaiah. The desolation expressed in Mary’s words: “They have no more wine!” is the desolation of Israel: once so joyful in their relationship with God, but lately, very short on joy. The wine-run-out of the wedding at Cana symbolizes the desolation of the people and their need for help to restore their joy. And Mary’s words are also the expression of the confidence of the first and greatest of the disciples: “Do whatever he tells you.”
So Jesus is not just at “a wedding” somewhere in Palestine. He is present as the reversal of the desolation of Israel. He is God, present as the life-companion and source of joy for the one who, forsaking God, felt so utterly forsaken.
But is this just another “fresh start,” like so many in the past? From the side of desolate Israel, the wine could be a great relief—such good wine, and in such abundance! But is it really the restoration of love?
The disciples who witness the first of Jesus’ “signs,” as John consistently calls them, “began to believe in him.” They form the nucleus of a new Israel, I will say, the “heart” of the bride of Christ. But even with them, the faithfulness during Jesus’ life and ministry, is unsteady: there are misunderstandings, betrayals, denial, infidelity; but also hanging on Jesus’ words with love, a growing trust in him, a confidence that makes reconciliation possible. And although it’s not their performance as disciples that mostly counts here, the greatest wonder of Cana is not the transformation of water into wine, but the changing of the disciples’ way of thinking about Jesus, Son of Mary, into faith in the Messiah of God.
Jesus, John says, takes the water intended for purification and converts it into wine. And it is wine which will become, in the Eucharist, the purifying blood of the new covenant marriage between God and humankind. In extending a gesture of saving kindness to a little couple and the guests at their wedding, Jesus is laying his life on the line, putting his own blood into the marriage. In the faith of the disciples, there gets to be an engagement between Jesus and them. From Jesus’ side, the commitment is absolute. He is in for the long haul: to win the confidence and love of the disciples of every age, and to give us joy in our life-companionship with him.
Our own path to joy is the same as that of Mary and the disciples: to believe in Jesus, to put our trust in his love and his power to restore us to joy. It is, increasingly, to live in that faith, and to allow our relationship with Jesus to make us like him.
The people of Haiti are experiencing total desolation right now—actually, most of the time that is true: just now their desolation is to be seen in our own homes. We have the power to help restore their joy, by helping them rebuild their country. Jesus’ work is ours to join in. It is ours to respond to the self-sacrificing love of Jesus with our own self-sacrifice. Mary’s words: “They have no more wine.” And “Do whatever he tells you.”