This essay first appeared in our weekly Scripture reflection newsletter on January 18, 2025.
There is so much in today’s beautiful Gospel passage that we might focus on. Like the superabundance of wine made by Jesus, there is a superabundance of themes in the story of the Wedding Feast of Cana.
First, and most obviously, we could consider Jesus’ miraculous power to turn water into wine in what is traditionally referred to as his first miracle. Second, as I said, we could look at the sheer volume of the wine created. When you visit the chapel at Cana in Galilee today, a spot where married couples often renew their wedding vows, you’ll see in the basement a huge stone jar, about four feet tall, from Jesus’ time, which gives you a sense of the huge volume of wine. Or we could reflect on the comment that the best wine has been saved for last, an image of Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah. Or we could meditate on how Jesus’ first miracle was at one of the most joyful of all gatherings, a wedding banquet. What a vivid message about the reign of God: it’s about joy. Finally, we could talk about one rather humorous explanation of why they ran out of wine, which is that Jesus brought more disciples than the hosts expected.
But I’d like to focus on another important part of the story, which is Jesus’ relationship with his mother and their interchange. As we read today, when Mary recognizes that they have run out of wine, she tells Jesus. Her son’s response, however, sounds harsh. “Woman, how does this concern affect me?”
The same words shouted at Jesus by multiple demons are the ones he uses with his mother.
Now, not to be pedantic, but here is where it helps to return to the original language of the Gospels, Greek. Jesus and Mary would have spoken in Aramaic but the Gospels are in Greek. And his response in Greek is “Ti emoi kai soi, gunai?” Literally, it is “What to me and to you, woman?” It’s often translated, as today, somewhat gently: “How does this concern affect me, woman?” Or “What business is this of yours, woman?”
Leaving aside the fact that Jesus is calling his mother “woman,” I want to turn your attention to another place where these same words appear in the Gospel, to give you a sense of their bluntness. They are, believe it or not, the same words, but in the plural, that a demon-possessed man shouts at Jesus in the synagogue at Nazareth, in Luke’s Gospel: “Ti hemin kai soi?” (4:34). And in this case, these words are usually translated much more literally. In the New American Bible, the translation we use during Mass, they are translated as, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?” So, the same words shouted at Jesus by multiple demons are the ones he uses with his mother.
As Francis Moloney, S.D.B., a New Testament scholar, writes, “There have been many attempts to soften this retort but whatever one makes of it, it is not the type of response one expects from a son to his mother… Some element of harshness cannot be eliminated from these words.”
At the Annunciation, Mary was given a profound insight into who Jesus was: the Son of God. But that doesn’t mean that she understood how every stage of his ministry was going to unfold. Likewise, we don’t always understand those closest to us.
Why am I mentioning this? It’s not to suggest that Jesus didn’t love his mother or vice versa. They loved each other deeply, faithfully, abundantly. Mary was one of the few people to remain with Jesus during the crucifixion, and one of Jesus’ last actions on the cross was to entrust the care of his mother to the beloved disciple.
Rather, it is to say that even in Jesus’ family, there were misunderstandings. And this is not the only time. In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus’ “mother and brothers” come all the way from Nazareth to Capernaum, by the Sea of Galilee, to, depending on the translation, “arrest” or “seize” him, because people thought he was “out of his mind” (Mk 3:21, 31). When I once read that passage aloud in the place where it happened, in Capernaum, to a group of Holy Land pilgrims, a few said to me afterwards, “That’s in the Gospels?” Then, on top of that, when Jesus, who is inside a house with his disciples, is told that his mother and brothers have come and are outside waiting to see him, he says, “Who are my mother and brother and sisters? Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother” (Mk 3:33, 35).
At the Annunciation, Mary was given a profound insight into who Jesus was: the Son of God. But that doesn’t mean that she understood how every stage of his ministry was going to unfold. Likewise, we don’t always understand those closest to us.
Jesus seems to be growing in his understanding of his ministry, perhaps thanks to his mother.
But, ironically, at Cana, she seems to understand Jesus’ ministry better than he does. At least at this point. And she tells the wine steward, as she tells us, to do whatever—whatever—Jesus says. In this, she is completely obedient to his word.
At the same time, Jesus is asserting some independence here at Cana, as he does in Capernaum. But he also seems to be growing in his understanding of his ministry, perhaps thanks to his mother. When I was at Cana a few years ago, I was traveling with a pair of pilgrims, a mother and son. I mentioned this part of the story to the mother and she said, “Mothers sometimes understand their children better than they do themselves.”
Even among people who love one another, even among families who love one another, even among friends who love one another, there can be disagreements, misunderstandings and even arguments. It’s all part of the human experience, in which both Jesus and Mary participated. Nothing human is foreign to them. But in today’s Gospel in particular, we can look to them for models of listening, honesty, faithfulness, growth and love.
