Second Sunday in Ordinary Time [January 20, 2019] John 2:1-12
Mary who was once a bride and has passed through the tiny-gritty of a Jewish wedding can sense immediately something goes wrong. The wine is running out. In the Jewish context, wine is an essential ingredient in every joyous occasion, as it is ordained by God to “gladden men’s hearts” (Ps 104:15) The lack of it can spell a disastrous result. It is the source of shame, and even a family dispute.
Everyone knows that it is the responsibility of the bridegroom to provide the wine, yet Mary does something unexpected. Instead of notifying the groom, she approached Jesus and points to him the gravity of the looming disaster. However, instead of getting an immediate favorable response, the plot twists even more. In a surprising statement, Jesus says to his mother, “Woman, how does your concern affect me?” (Jn 2:4). This statement is a Semitic expression indicating that the issue at hand is not Jesus’ problem. In a sense, Jesus is right because it is the job of the groom to fix the problem, but in a much more profound sense, Mary is also right because Jesus is the true Bridegroom.
Jesus understands that He is the Bridegroom, but the hour is not at Cana, but at the Cross. Thus, He says, “My Hour has not yet come.” (Jn 2:4) Yet, Mary as a mother knows her Son best. She has faith in Jesus, that Jesus is not only the Bridegroom at the Cross who gives His life for His Bride, the Church, but Jesus is also the Bridegroom in every marriage, family, a community that reflects this Church. Thus, when Jesus transforms the water into wine, it does not happen in historical level, but in a more profoundly symbolical way. Yes, Jesus helps the couple from disaster, but more than that, He supplies what is fundamentally lacking in every marriage: the best wine, the true joy of married life.
One of my duties as a deacon is to check whether the particular couple is canonically fit for the Church’s marriage. To fulfill this, I need to interview the couple and ask some pertinent questions. Yet, I usually go beyond, and I remind them why the Church does not recognize civil marriage. The answer is plain yet very basic: Jesus, the true Bridegroom, is not there, or to be precise, we make a deliberate effort to exclude Him in our marriage. The union between man and woman is not just a human, social and cultural phenomena but a divine reality. When a man and a woman commit themselves into marriage, God Himself who wills to make them one. Therefore, marriage is primarily and fundamentally God’s grace working in the human relationship. And if God unites them together, He will be the one who sustains and brings into perfection. This is why marriage is elevated into the level of sacraments of the Church.
However, I continue reminding the couples that marriage in the Church does not only mean to celebrate the sacrament of matrimony but to stay within the Church, the Bride of Christ, throughout their lives: to attend the Eucharist as a family, to participate actively in the Church as a couple, to pray regularly together. As the wine is impossible without a jar of waters, God’s grace will not work in our marriages unless we open ourselves to this grace. Like Mary who points Jesus what is lacking in the wedding in Cana, so the Church asks Jesus to fulfill every marriage with the best wine.
Deacon Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP
One of the greatest joys of being a deacon is to baptize babies and little children. The joy is not simply springing from touching the cheeks of a cute little baby or be part of festive parents, but it is something deeper. In fact, my experiences with baptism are not always pleasant. I remember at my first baptism in Sto. Domingo Parish, Metro Manila, when I began pouring water upon the baby’s forehead, the little girl suddenly burst in tears and cried aloud. I realized the water has touched the baby girl’s eyes. I was shocked and almost paralyzed not knowing what to do next. The good thing is the parents were able to handle the situation well. As the little baby calmed down, I apologized and continued the rite. Traumatizing!
The third question Archbishop Socrates Villegas asked me during my ordination was “Are you afraid enough? Just like the first two questions, this one is also counterintuitive. One of my favorite phrases in the Bible is “Do not be afraid!” In many occasions in the Scriptures, this statement does not simply convey encouragement, but also a life-changing mission. When Abram was getting old and he was childless, he doubted to enter the convent with the Lord who promised him descendants like the stars in heaven, God said, “do not fear!” (Gen 15) Then, Abraham became the father of all nations. When God called Jeremiah to prophesy to Judah, he found an excuse in his young age, but God said, “do not be afraid!” (Jer 1:8) Then, Jeremiah became one of the greatest prophets of Israel. When Joseph felt betrayed and yet in his mercy, planned to divorce Mary in secret, the angel said to him, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home.” (Mat 1:20) Then, Joseph became the foster father of the Son of God. When Mary received the Good News from the angel Gabriel, she did not understand what was happening, Gabriel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.” (Luk. 1:30) Then, she became the Mother of God.
Some of us may wonder why the Church places the celebration of the solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God on January 1, or on the New Year. One may guess that the Church wants us to attend mass on the first day of the year, so as to start the year right. For those who wish to have a long holiday, it might be pretty a killjoy, but for some of us who wish to be blessed for the entire year, it is a nice thought. Yet, surely there is something deeper than that.
We are celebrating the feast of the Holy Family of Nazareth, the feast day of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. The last event in the Bible that presents the Homily Family together is the Finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple. After this event, Joseph no longer appeared in the Bible, and according to the tradition, he passed away even before he was able to see Jesus in His public ministry. Since this is the last episode where Joseph gets involved in the narrative, we shall reflect more about him.
Today’s Gospel is truly beautiful. We have two protagonists. They are women, and they are both pregnant. Who are they? Mary and Elizabeth. Yet, why is the story beautiful? It is just natural for women to get pregnant. Unless we need to go closer to the stories and place ourselves in the shoes of Mary and Elisabeth, we can never see the true beauty of their story.
The second question that Archbishop Socrates Villegas of Lingayen-Dagupan asked us during our ordination was, “Are you broken enough?” Once again his question raised eyebrows and was, indeed, counter-intuitive. We want to be flawless, whole and perfect. We desire to achieve more in life, to be wealthy, healthy and pretty. We wish to be socially accepted, respected and gain certain prominence. We want to become somebody, and not nobody. We like others to call us as the famous doctors, the creative entrepreneurs, or successful lawyers. Or for us, people in the Church, we like people to consider us well-sought preachers, generous and builder-priests, or skillful and well-educated sisters.
During my ordination, Archbishop Socrates Villegas of Lingayen-Dagupan asked this question to us who would receive the sacred order, “Are you weak enough?” The question was mind-blogging and unexpected because often we have strength, power, and talents as our favorite subjects, and even obsession. We like to show to the world that we are achievers and conquerors. We parade our good education, high-earning job, or a beautiful face. The ‘superior’ mentality does not only affect the lay people traversing in the ordinary world, but also people dressed in white walking through the corridors of the Church. The clergy, as well as religious men and women, are not immune to this hunger for approval and sense of worthiness.
I have been in the Dominican formation for more than 12 years, and if I add four years of my minor seminary formation in Indonesia, it stretches to 16 years! It is insanely long that it occupies a more than half of my life. If we believe that everything has a purpose, I can ask myself, “what is the point of this extremely lengthy formation?” Why should I stay through thick and thin of formation life, through hours of assiduous study, through various programs, through daily rigor of prayer life?
In Medio Ecclesiae 