Biblical meditation for the second mystery of the rosary of light (1st part)
P. Vojtěch Brož
Text of the Holy Scripture (John 2:1–11:)
1On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. 2Jesus was also invited to the wedding with his disciples. 3When the wine ran out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine." 4Jesus said to her, "Woman, what does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come." 5His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you." 6Now there were six stone water jars there for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. 7Jesus said to them, "Fill the jars with water." And they filled them up to the brim. 8And he said to them, "Now draw some out and take it to the master of the feast." So they took it. 9When the master of the feast tasted the water now become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the master of the feast called the bridegroom 10and said to him, "Everyone serves the good wine first, and when people have drunk freely, then the poor wine. But you have kept the good wine until now." 11This, the first of his signs, Jesus did at Cana in Galilee and manifested his glory. And his disciples believed in him.
The beginning of the sign: Let’s start from the end. The evangelist closes the whole event very solemnly: This, the first of his signs, Jesus did at Cana in Galilee and manifested his glory. And his disciples believed in him. Such a conclusion suggests that something much more significant happened here than that Jesus might have helped a presumably poor bridegroom in a predicament due to the lack of sufficient wine for the wedding feast. Yes, that would be great and touching in itself. Many have happily pointed out that Jesus performed his first miracle under these circumstances. Among these many, we can let F. M. Dostoevsky speak:1
Oh, this miracle, this sweet miracle! Jesus came to visit not sorrow but human joy when he first created a miracle, helping human joy. Who loves people loves their joy. The joy of some poor, very poor people. Of course, very poor, when they did not even have wine at the wedding. And the other great heart of another great being who was there, his mother, knew that he had not descended to earth just to perform his great, terrible deed and that his heart is accessible to even the heartwarming, foolish joy of some unlearned, uneducated, and simple little people who kindly invited him to their poor wedding. He is terrible in his greatness before us, he is dreadful in his nobility, but he is infinitely merciful, he became like us out of love and rejoices with us, changing water into wine, so that the joy of the guests may not cease, waiting for new guests, new guests, constantly inviting, to eternity. You see, they are bringing new wine, they are bringing jars.
But Jesus did not only show his compassion and generosity in Cana, but manifested his glory, he did not perform just one of his miracles, but made the beginning of the sign. This expression deserves a pause. If we realize that the entire Gospel of John is precisely about the revelation of Jesus’ glory and the faith of his disciples, we then begin to intuit the significance of the miracle at Cana. From the first conclusion of John's Gospel, we can understand the importance of signs for the revelation of Jesus’ identity and the faith of the disciples: Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name. (20:30-31). If signs have such fundamental importance in John, it is clear that the transformation of water into wine, by which Jesus made the beginning of the sign, is the beginning of Jesus' work of salvation according to John.
When we ask the question of when Christianity actually began, where to place its beginning, we may find various answers: in the incarnation, at Jesus’ public ministry, in the calling of his disciples, in his death on the cross, in the resurrection, at Pentecost. Different placements of the beginning correspond to various motifs emphasized in Jesus’ mission. John is primarily concerned with the revelation of the mystery of Jesus' person, his truth, glory, and divinity. "In John's Gospel, which is fundamentally a gospel of revelation, the beginning is identified with the sign at Cana, where Jesus first reveals his glory to his disciples and where they believe in him. The beginning is the initiation of Jesus' self-revelation, which then continues throughout the entire fourth gospel. For John, Christianity begins when Jesus begins to reveal himself."2
The word “sign,” one of the key concepts of John's Gospel, means something different than “sign” in common parlance. An ordinary sign is a fact that points to another fact, which is distinct from it, with the relationship between the two being purely conventional. Such signs are like traffic lights. People have agreed that they will go on green and stop on red. However, there is no intrinsic reason why the green color should mean "go!" and the red "stop!" Alongside such signs, there are symbols that also connect two distinct realities (“symbol” is derived from the verb symballein, which means to bring together), between which, however, there is an intrinsic relationship. A sword becomes a symbol of power for its destructive force, oil a symbol of abundance, as it is the result of a fruitful season, a shepherd becomes a symbol for a ruler due to the relationship his sheep have with him, a vineyard becomes a symbol for a woman or an entire nation to indicate their fertility, etc. A symbol in this sense is a reality that conceals another reality within itself and reveals it through itself. "A symbol is an epiphany of the present reality."
John's Gospel is full of symbols: water, bread, light, night, shepherd, etc., it is all based on symbolism. This corresponds to the logic of the incarnation: The Word became flesh. We have seen his glory (1:14). The Word becomes visible through the body. The “signs” in a Johannine sense are fundamentally symbols. They are not primarily miracles, but symbolic acts by which Jesus reveals himself as the Messiah and Son of God. Jesus performs signs, to which his explanatory word usually follows, which often contains a formula of self-revelation such as: "I am." For example, after the multiplication of loaves, there follows the eucharistic discourse with the statement: "I am the bread of life" (6:35). In both, in the sign and in the word, Jesus reveals himself. After the sign in Cana, there are six more signs in the Gospel, making a total of seven, which also has symbolic significance, as K. Stock points out:3
The seven signs recorded by the evangelist are meant to exemplify the fullness and multitude of the deeds Jesus performed to help and to reveal himself. Always, it is a situation of need, which Jesus saves and in which his actions restore or multiply life. After all, he came so that they may have life and have it abundantly (10:10). He continually gives more life and thus more joy. He constantly reveals that he is Christ, the Son of God, and that whoever believes in him has life in his name.
The multiplication of loaves was a sign that Jesus is the bread of life, the healing of the man born blind was a sign that Jesus is the light of the world. What is the sign of the transformation of water into wine? Let us seek the answer in the text. The eleventh verse begins (literally translated) like this: This, the first of his signs, Jesus did. The sentence emphasizes the pronoun 'this.' By this emphasized pronoun, the beginning of the sign that Jesus made is directly connected to what precedes this sentence, thus to verse 10. There the master of the feast tells the bridegroom: "You have kept the good wine until now." Then the evangelist continues: This Jesus did as the beginning of his signs. What the master of the feast attributes to the bridegroom, the evangelist attributes to Jesus. Jesus is therefore the true bridegroom at this wedding! The true bridegroom in the narrative is not the newlywed from Cana, but Jesus himself. Jesus kept the good wine, which the master of the feast attributes to the bridegroom, thus pointing to Jesus as the true bridegroom. And this is the beginning of the sign, the beginning of Jesus' self-revelation.
Such an interpretation of the wedding at Cana is supported by the following facts: At weddings, the main figures are typically the bridegroom and the bride. Here, however, the bridegroom is mentioned only in regards to the good wine given by Jesus, and not a single word is spoken about the bride! The evangelist's focus is entirely different. The main figures are not the bridegroom and the bride from Cana, but Jesus and his mother! Everyone present benefits from their presence. This is especially true for Jesus' disciples. They not only received full cups but also faith. It is also remarkable how Jesus behaves at the wedding: He, the invited guest, acts like the boss, unhesitatingly giving orders to the waiters. Jesus is the lord of the wedding.
We can therefore conclude that in Cana, the human wedding becomes an occasion for the revelation of another wedding mystery: the wedding in which Jesus is the bridegroom. The wedding at Cana becomes a symbol of Jesus' wedding. Certainly, it lacks Jesus’ interpretation and self-revelatory statement, such as: "I am the bridegroom!" or: "I am the new wine!" The messianic significance must be recognized on its own. That it was accomplished is evidenced in the evangelist's commentary (v. 11).
The beginning of the sign is “an archetype in which a whole series is prefigured and contained.4 The wedding at Cana is "the arche-sign," an archetype of signs, thus the beginning, source, and model for other signs, it foreshadows them. “The sign at Cana is the archetype of all those that will follow; it is the key that allows us to understand the continuation of the fourth Gospel.”5 It symbolizes the messianic wedding of Jesus with the new people of God. “Cana is the sign, the symbol of the New Covenant.”6 This shows what Jesus aims for throughout the entire Gospel, in all his words and actions. From this perspective, we can look at the entire scene.
Verse 1. On the third day, there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. It is the third day after the last time reference (1:43); from the beginning of the narration (1:19), it is already the seventh day, the Sabbath of the first week of Jesus’ activity. In this Sabbath, creation is fulfilled. The third day can also remind us of the third day when Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the place from afar (Gen 22:4), the place where the Lord sees and cares (v. 14) (in Cana, Mary saw and Jesus took care!). The third day is also well known from Joseph's story: On the third day, he (to his brothers) said, "Do this, and you will live. I fear God." (Gen 42:18). Perhaps even more significant is that the theophany on Sinai at the occasion of the conclusion of the Covenant also occurred on the third day: When the third day came, there was a morning, and there were thunder and lightning; there was a heavy cloud on the mountain, and a very loud trumpet sound was heard. (Ex 19:16). The mention of the third day in Hos 6:1–2 has been interpreted in Christian tradition since Tertullian's time († 250) to refer to the third day of Christ's resurrection. When John wrote his Gospel, the third day already signified primarily to Christians the resurrection of Jesus. There he definitively revealed his glory, which here at Cana was revealed in a preliminary manner. We can summarize that "on the third day," significant events occur in the history of salvation. Especially significant for the wedding at Cana is the connection of the third day with the formation of the people of the Sinai Covenant.
His mother was there: She is only present here and at the cross (19:25–27). In both cases, she is referred to as the mother of Jesus, not by her name.
V. 2. Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding. The verb is in the singular, the main subject is Jesus. The disciples are mentioned with him, dependent on him. Jesus is one with his disciples, unthinkable without them.
V. 3. And when the wine ran out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine." The first and only thing characterizing this wedding is the fact that there is no wine. The wine is missing—this basic and essential element for wedding joy. Mary is the first to notice this, or at least the first to bring it to attention. She behaves as a careful person, with open eyes and keen observation, capable of acting immediately, however discreetly, without making a scene. She wants to prompt Jesus to help the newlyweds in distress, so does she ask him for a miracle? She has not seen any yet; this will be the first. She simply states the absence of wine, which, however, includes a certain gentle suggestion. Her reminder may resonate as urgently as the message from Mary and Martha to Jesus: "Lord, he whom you love is ill!" (John 11:3). That too was actually a discreet and yet urgent plea for help. If Mary did not expect anything from Jesus, her subsequent instruction to the servants would be inexplicable. We can already see in Mary the image of a caring and intercessory Church.
V. 4. Jesus said to her, "Woman, what does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come." Jesus’ response to his mother's remark seems at first glance to be a harsh rejection. However, we must not remain at first impressions. The first part of the response is a question (literally): "What do I have to do with you, woman?" It is common in both the Semitic and Greco-Roman worlds. It has a dual meaning:
1) A manifestation of hostility and aggressiveness: "What do I have in common with you?" or: "What do you have against me?" (cf. Judges 11:12; Matt. 8:29);
2) A distancing due to misunderstanding (cf. 2 Kings 3:13).
We can safely exclude the first case from Jesus’ response to his mother. It pertains to the second case, of misunderstanding: Mary is operating on a different level of meaning than Jesus. She points to the simple lack of material wine. Jesus, with his response, shifts to another level: he has in mind another lack, another wine, another wedding, he has another hour. It is also possible to translate the question: "What is (the wine) to me and to you?" – in which case the question is rhetorical and means: "For me and for you, the word 'wine' does not have the same significance!"7 When Jesus hears the word “wine,” he immediately thinks of the sense the word has in the biblical tradition. There, wine is a symbol of messianic gifts, just like the wedding.
"Woman!" Thus, Jesus addresses his mother: "woman." In ancient literature, both Semitic and Greco-Roman, there is not a single example where a son addresses his mother in this manner. However, it is commonly used to address a foreign woman. Jesus does not reserve the title "woman" for his mother; he uses it even for the Samaritan woman (4:21), for Mary Magdalene after the resurrection (20:15), even for the adulterous woman (8:10). Used for his own mother, however, it sounds strange. Does it mean that Jesus treats her like a foreign woman, that he wants to have distance towards her? Perhaps so. Jesus appears as the Messiah. His relationship with his mother will not be as it was before: an ordinary relationship between mother and son. However, it is not only about denying what was, but also, positively, about establishing a new relationship: Mary becomes the Woman. What does this mean? Where does such an unusual title come from?
The word "woman" first appears in the Bible next to man just after her creation from his rib. Man rejoices when he sees the woman: "This is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh. She shall be called Woman (isha) because she was taken out of man (ish)!" (Gen 2:23). Mary is thus the New Eve, the Bride for the Bridegroom, a help for the man (cf. Gen 2:19), a close collaborator with Jesus in the preparation of good wine.
However, the woman also has another symbolic place in Scripture. The prophets depicted a female figure, whom they called "Daughter of Zion," "Mother Zion," "Virgin Israel." This female figure is the personified people of God, the human partner of the Covenant with the Lord, and therefore also the human partner of the new, eschatological covenant. The people of God will be the "mother" of the Messiah. By addressing his mother as "woman," Jesus points to this role of Mary. She becomes the embodiment of the messianic people in the eschatological time. Through her, the people of the Old Covenant also become the mother of Jesus. Saint Thomas Aquinas, in his commentary on the Gospel of John, writes: "Why 'woman'? She carries within herself the image of the Synagogue, which is the mother of Jesus."8 Thus, Mary symbolizes the Synagogue, Zion, the Daughter of Zion, the Mother of Zion. As the "woman," she becomes the embodiment and concrete realization of the prophetic symbolic partner of the eschatological Bridegroom in the wedding of the New Covenant. "Fundamental human relationships reveal themselves on two levels: on the level of human time is the relationship between Jesus and Mary as mother and son; on the level of the divine preeminence of the Word, the relationship is a betrothal between the 'man' and the 'woman'."9 In Cana, there is indeed an earthly wedding taking place. No one, however, knows that in the midst of it is hidden the presence of the eternal wedding between God and His people. "Through Jesus’ mother and in her, the transition from marriage, a symbol of the Covenant, to the ultimate result of marriage and the Covenant: to maternal fertility is realized. This fertility characterizes the new covenant. The new covenant births life in a surprising way, especially when it gives life to Jesus. It is the covenant itself. The new covenant presupposes the old. The mother presupposes the bride."10
The unusual address of Jesus to his mother, "woman," appears in John's Gospel only here and at Calvary. Both occasions are connected to Jesus' "hour."
Ugo Vanni11 develops Johannine Mariology based on the designation of Jesus' mother as "woman" and shows the gradual transition from fiancée to mother and at the same time the gradual identification of Jesus' physical mother with the mother of his mystical body. Jesus calls his mother "woman." His word is creative and authoritative. By addressing his mother in this way, he also makes her, establishes her as the "woman." Mary becomes something new through Jesus’ initiative. What? This remains a mystery. The question: "What is between me and you, woman?" opens new horizons. Jesus asks this question, and no one but he can answer it. Only Jesus will provide the right answer to the question of what mystery exists between him and Mary. When? Only when his hour comes. Then it will be possible to comprehend what is between him and his mother, the "woman." Even now, his mother is the "woman." How is this manifested? Through her: she mediates, facilitates contact between Jesus and the people, points to Jesus, and leads to obedience to him.
At the cross (19:25–27), "the mother of Jesus" again appears, who in Jesus' words is again the "woman." The hour of the cross means something entirely new for Mary. To her motherhood towards Jesus is added motherhood towards the disciple. Between these two maternities lies the mysterious word "woman." From Jesus’ mother, she becomes the woman (at Cana), and from the woman, she becomes the mother of the disciple (at the cross). Now "woman" receives its content and meaning through the new motherhood. She remains Jesus' mother and becomes the mother of the disciple. The disciple lives already. Jesus' mother is therefore no longer just his physical mother. It is a motherhood that concerns Jesus’ life in the disciple. Mary, "woman," becomes Jesus' mother in the disciples. Thus, she fulfills the old image of Mother Zion, who gives birth to the Messiah. Mary bore the Messiah physically; now, as Woman-Zion, embodied Israel, she gives birth to him in people. Through Jesus’ address to her as "woman," there occurs a kind of mystical identification of Mary, the mother of Jesus, and the Woman-God's people in her maternal function. To the "woman" from Cana and under the cross, we can add yet another woman from Johannine literature, namely the "woman clothed with the sun with the moon under her feet, / who was to give birth, / gave birth to a son, a boy, / fled into the wilderness / to her refuge, while the dragon made war against the rest of her offspring, who keep the commandments of God and bear witness to Jesus” (Rev 12). This woman evidently bears personal traits of Jesus’ mother, who bore the boy, and of the Woman Zion, who gives birth to the messianic people, the rest of the offspring. However, in John's view, these two mystically unify. Here is the answer to Jesus’ question in Cana: "What is between me and you, woman?" Between them lies the mystery of Mary's extended motherhood. Mary becomes the "woman," the embodied eschatological community, which has in Mary the prototype of its own fertility. In Jesus’ Hour, Mary’s motherhood is as it were absorbed into the fertility of the Church. Jesus’ mother becomes the "woman," the Church. The Church, "woman," following Mary's example—and with her in her heart (cf. Acts 1:14)—becomes increasingly the mother of Jesus. Jesus’ mother, called the "woman," inspires the Church in her understanding of herself. The Church is mysteriously what Mary is personally and physically: the mother of Jesus. Mary becomes the Church, and in her, she is and remains the Mother, and through her, the Church also becomes the Mother.
Here in Cana, however, Mary is still at the beginning of the development of this mystery. His mother was there. Mary is there where people are, on the human side, on the side of human lack; she is the first to realize it. She represents the Old Covenant, awaiting Israel who has not yet the fullness of messianic joy, the good wine, and therefore must wait for the Bridegroom-Messiah. He is invited to the wedding, expected from the outside, from the other side. Invited, literally "called," which some understand as a theological passive: he is called by God to become the bridegroom of the New Covenant.
The hour: Jesus continues in his response to his mother's remark with the second sentence: My hour has not yet come. How to translate and interpret this? Is it a statement or a question? What hour is he referring to? "This word about Jesus' hour is mysterious and controversial. A great part of the deeper interpretation of the miracle at Cana depends on it." 12 We can either understand the sentence as a statement: "My hour has not yet come!" Or it is possible to see the same sentence as a question (which is justified given that the original Greek text had no punctuation): "(Has) my hour not yet come?" Then the question is again rhetorical; and the implied answer states that the hour has already come. In this case, it would refer to the hour of Jesus’ revelation through the sign, and that hour has already come. It is as if Jesus were telling his mother with his response: "Don’t worry, my hour has already come, I am already thinking about it and I will act soon." In the first case, if it is not a question, Jesus states that his hour has not yet come. Such a response would then imply an implicit rejection of his mother's implicit request. However, Jesus ultimately performs the sign of transforming water into wine, which indicates that his response to his mother was not a rejection, at most only a reservation. Jesus' action cannot be directly derived from human requests. The only law governing Jesus’ actions is the will of the Father. He decides when the hour comes. If Jesus performs a miracle, it is only in relation to that hour. That hour has not yet come, but Jesus clearly symbolizes it with his "sign." The Father's hour is then that hour, which is mentioned multiple times in John's Gospel and to which the entire plot of the book leads. It is the hour of glory, which is the hour of Jesus' cross. That hour has not yet come, and giving people mere earthly happiness is not the goal of Jesus' mission. "Jesus, conscious that the only miracle imposed by the Father upon him will be his cross, does not want to be pressed into the role of miracle worker." 13
If Jesus performs signs, he does so to prefigure that hour. In a certain sense, Jesus' hour begins already now. In the following chapters, Jesus will say: "It is coming, yes, it is already here." (4:23; 5:25). Jesus' hour begins here; it is the hour of messianic revelation—the one awaited by Israel since the times of the prophets. Now it begins, but it will last throughout Jesus’ public life and reach its final fulfillment in the mystery of the cross and resurrection. The hour that came in Cana is therefore leaning towards another hour, the hour of the cross. Ignatius of La Potterie succinctly summarizes this:14
We must not forget that in Jesus’ life, the miracle at Cana is only "the beginning of the sign." Thus, a perspective is opened for extending a theme that starts here, but which will find fulfillment in the events of Jesus’ death and resurrection. In this sense, Jesus’ "hour," the hour of the revelation of his glory, already came in Cana, but as the first step on the way to the "hour" of the cross, to "his hour," which Jesus often alludes to in John's Gospel. Only then will what has already been symbolized at Cana in Galilee be fully revealed: the Covenant celebrated at Cana will be confirmed on the Cross. Mary will also be present there.
V. 5. His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you." In Jesus' apparent rejection, Mary refers the servants to his word. She does not let herself be discouraged. She does not interpret Jesus’ word as a rejection. Her urging of the servants does not go against Jesus, she does not bypass, nor precede him. Moreover, she believes in her Son even before the sign, just like the disciples after it (2:11). She gives the servants instructions as if Jesus had already promised her his help.
"Whatever he says to you, do it!" These words remind us of Pharaoh's instruction to his subjects to turn to Joseph, whom he entrusted with distributing grain during a time of famine: "Go to Joseph, and do what he tells you!" (Gen 41:55). Similar to that time when Pharaoh, here Mary directs people to someone who can help them in need. However, these words also remind us of another Old Testament phrase. It is almost a technical formula by which the people respond to the divine promise during the establishment of the Covenant. The first time those words are spoken at Sinai: Moses came, called the elders of the people, and presented to them all the words that the Lord had commanded him. And all the people answered together and said, "All that the Lord has spoken we will do!" (Ex 19:7–8; cf. Dt 5:27). Similarly, the people bind themselves during the renewal of the Covenant (Jos 24:24; Ezra 10:12; Neh 5:12). Likewise, the Moabite Ruth, who accepted the God of her mother-in-law Naomi, says to her: "I will do all that you tell me." (Ruth 3:5). Mary's instruction to the servants, therefore, contains words by which the people expressed their obedient consent to the offered Covenant. Mary embodies God's people Israel, the people of the Covenant. With her covenant formula, she encourages the servants to obedience toward Jesus. By urging the servants to take the stance of the Covenant, she becomes a mother to the new people of God. "Whatever he says to you, do it!" These are her last words in the Gospel and in Scripture altogether; this is her spiritual legacy. By fulfilling such a legacy, a person becomes a member of Jesus’ family: "Who are my mother, and who are my brothers?… My brother and sister and mother are those who do the will of God!" (Mt 12:46–50 and par.). Jesus’ spiritual family consists of those who do the will of God. Mary always leads in this.
