Some years back, long before I was ordained a priest, I would call my mother on the phone. When she answered, I got into the silly habit of saying, “Hellooooo, woman.” I’m not sure why. I think I saw an actor in an old movie say that to his wife.
One day I called home and after saying, “Hellooooo, woman,” my mother laid into me: “What are you calling me woman for? Who gave you the right to be calling me woman?” I stammered, “Well, Jesus . . . He called His mother woman.” There was silence on the other end of the line. Then, in a softened tone, my mother responded, “Oh. Well, that’s different.”
Some time went by, and I kept regularly calling home. One day when we were speaking, there was a pause in the conversation. My mother broke the silence, saying: “You never call me woman anymore.” Ha!
Why did Christ call His mother woman at the wedding at Cana? Was He being disrespectful to His mother? No. Scholars tell us that the word woman in Christ’s culture was used interchangeably with the words lady or madam. It was a formal salutation.
Christ turned 150 gallons of water into wine at that wedding. In Mediterranean cultures, they drank wine with almost every meal. They still do today. So, the drinking of wine was a healthy thing, it came naturally and was generally enjoyed, not abused. But 150 gallons? Why so much?
Before we answer the question about the quantity of wine, we should also understand that this wedding was a huge family affair. Cana was four miles down the road from Nazareth. And almost everyone in these villages were related. The Virgin Mary was no doubt related to the bride and groom, and most likely she was helping out a bit at the reception. If she was a non-family member, it would have been awkward—if not rude of her—to give orders, to show authority during the embarrassing situation.
What brought on the embarrassing situation? Either the host did not procure enough wine, or people crashed the wedding. Christ brought disciples with Him, perhaps more than had been invited. Perhaps these wedding crashers played a role in the wine “failing.”
“They have no wine,” the Virgin told her son. And then she just looked at Him. Isn’t that interesting? She didn’t explain the situation. She didn’t plead. She didn’t beg. She just stated a fact and then stared at her Son, as only a mother could. And so, Christ stared back and said, “Woman, what does that have to do with me? My hour has not yet arrived.” Take note: the Virgin never answered Christ’s question. She ignored it, and simply turned to the servants and said, “Do whatever He tells you.”
That was the Virgin Mary’s last line in the gospel. Her next appearance in John’s gospel was at another wedding feast, the one on Calvary, where Christ the Bridegroom married His bride, the Church. That was Christ’s “hour” that He had mentioned seven times in the gospel—the hour meaning His suffering, passion, and death.
It’s interesting: on Calvary, Christ and His mother once again stared at each other. From the cross, as Christ the High Priest offered the perfect sacrifice, He looked down at His mother. With tenderness, respect, and affection, He once again called her woman.
My friends, Cana and Calvary are connected. The first wedding put the second one in motion. That is why at Cana Christ seemed to balk at His Mother’s gentle nudging. Bishop Sheen wrote that when Christ said, “What does this have to do with me?” He was really saying, “Do you know what you are starting? You are putting me on the road to Calvary. You’re starting me on my death march.” After the public miracles, He would no longer be known just as the son of the carpenter, but the Son of God. And some people would not (and do not) tolerate that.
At the wedding in Cana, both Christ and His mother knew that Calvary was on the horizon. But the Virgin had such a great influence over her Son that she mediated His first sign, a miracle which involved a superabundance of wine. According to the Scriptures, abundance was a sign of the Messiah. The psalm states, “the threshing floors will be full of grain, the vats will overflow with wine and oil” (Ps. 85:12).
The end of the passage states that this sign manifested His glory, and His disciples believed in Him. But they did not yet understand the Messiah’s true mission, which was to ransom a fallen world doomed to death. The mission would have Him go to Calvary. And who wanted to go to Calvary? Christ was God, but He was also a man. Recall the night before He died: He showed reluctance in the Garden of Gethsemane when He asked His Father to take away the cup.
Bishop Sheen saw an interesting parallel between Christ’s Father bidding Him to His public death and His Mother bidding him to His public life: “Obedience triumphed in both cases; at Cana the water was changed into wine; at Calvary the wine was changed into blood.” When we go to Holy Mass, we go to Calvary, or rather Calvary comes to us. We stand under the cross and stare at the Divine Victim who bleeds a superabundance of Precious Blood to wash away our sins.
And who is found standing under the cross? The Blessed Virgin Mary, who Christ gave to us as our mother. There is nothing awkward or rude about her having authority or giving orders. It is only natural for her to gently nudge us, as only a mother could, when we are reluctant to carry our cross, or when, due to our sins, we get ourselves into embarrassing situations.
It is a good and fine thing to pray to the saints, but we need to remember something: they are just servants. The Virgin is God’s Mother. Her intercession is most especially effective. She can gently nudge her son as only a mother can. And when Christ looks at her, His heart melts. As Scripture states, He refuses her nothing.
So, with great confidence, let us always go to our Mother and follow her orders. In the silence at Mass, let us listen for the woman’s gentle voice when she says:
Do whatever He tells you.
Image from Wikimedia Commons
