2nd Sunday of Ordinary Time

Since a wedding is mentioned in this gospel, the sacrament of marriage often comes to mind, but I am drawn instead to what happened quietly at the reception and the closing line of this gospel passage, “Jesus did this as the beginning of his signs at Cana in Galilee and so revealed his glory, and his disciples began to believe in him.”

Perhaps your attention was drawn to the short conversation between Jesus and his mother. When Mary tells her son that there is no wine, Jesus appears to snap at her by saying, “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.” Jesus isn’t being sassy to his mother.  That title was commonly used then just as we often say “ma’am” nowadays. Nor did Mary appear to be offended. Instead she quietly tells the waiters to do whatever Jesus tells them.

The dialogue wasn’t just about wine. John, the evangelist, is setting into motion the events that would lead to the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus. Once the apostles saw the glory of Jesus, they would boldly proclaim Jesus as Messiah. Mary did not respond to Jesus’ question for she knew who he was and knew that now was the time for her son to put his mission into motion.

What crossed my mind as I reflected on this passage is that John called this a sign, not a miracle: a revelation of things yet to come. Jesus transformed water into wine; by doing so he reveals that he would soon transform wine into his blood.  This passage invites us to take another look at the gift of his body and blood, made possible by both the crucifixion and the Eucharist.

The first line we heard this morning came from the prophet Isaiah, “For Zion’s sake, I will not be silent. For Jerusalem’s sake I will not be quiet.” When something wonderful happens, people talk about it, often times loudly. Or at least they should. Consider the world of sports. In case you are living in a cave somewhere and haven’t heard, the best game of the NFL season in the opinion of many will be played soon when the Seahawks meet the Panthers.

Oh yes, we can be very loud about some things which in the long run do not effect the vast majority of us, such as sports or the outcome of the Powerball lottery, but very quiet about the one event that really matters, which has an infinite effect on each of us; namely, the Christ event. We need to be proclaiming Jesus Christ to the world with our lives and our words. The passage from Paul reminds us that each of us have been uniquely gifted by the Holy Spirit so that we can and should be a sign of God’s power and glory to others.

Consider this. We celebrated Christmas weeks ago. There is hardly a sign of Christmas around, aside from a few hardy poinsettias.  Yet ponder what happened then: we received the Lord, the greatest present we could ask for, and we continue to receive him whenever the Mass is celebrated. This gift is not a one-time event; he keeps giving himself to us whenever we receive communion in a state of grace.

We ought to be shouting from the rooftops that Jesus is here in our midst in his body and blood. Instead we are often silent when it comes to the Eucharist. In our efforts to not offend our Protestant brothers and sisters, we barely mention what the Eucharist truly means to us Catholics. Even amongst ourselves, we speak about many aspects of Christianity, but tend to gloss over what makes us distinctly Catholic: the Body and Blood of Christ becoming real in the consecration. Perhaps we haven’t prayerfully considered the impact this awesome gift can have on us.
What is it about the Catholic Church that grips you? Is it the liturgy, the music, the pageantry? Is it the fact that Catholics know where to stand in areas of dogma, faith and morality? For me, the answer is simple. I believe in the Real Presence of the Lord in the Eucharist. That prompted me to become a priest and offer fellow Catholics the opportunity to also receive Jesus in the Eucharist.

To the outsider, this sign of Jesus’ presence may seem absurd. How can we claim that this bread and wine can become the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ and not be a symbolic presence instead? The simplest explanation I can offer is this. If God can create all that exists out of nothing, who are we to limit what God can do? And if God can create anything, I believe what Jesus said at the Last Supper when he said, “This is my body; this is my blood.” He, who once transformed water into wine, continues to transform wine into his blood whenever the Mass is celebrated to transform us.

“For Zion’s sake I will not be silent. For Jerusalem’s sake I will not be quiet.” In that line, Isaiah was not referring to a place but to the action of God in the world. The prophet shouts because he wants the world to realize what God is doing and wants others to join in transforming the world into the Kingdom of God.

Moved by the awareness that Jesus isn’t a recollection of the past but a living entity in our midst today, we proclaim the Eucharistic presence so that others will come to believe as we do and be motivated to make the Kingdom of God real. That begins by allowing ourselves to be transformed as well from silently witnessing what is happening to boldly claiming by what we say and do that God loves us beyond our deepest hopes and continually gives us the gift that is infinitely greater than our deepest needs: namely his Son.