Repeating Mary's Gift at Cana
By Victoria Mastrangelo,
I, like many people, find myself drawn into watching The Chosen, the new series on the life of Christ. Much can be said about what makes the show worth watching, but I want to focus on one particular scene in Season 1, Episode 5. This episode focuses on a story that we know well––the miracle of turning water into wine at the wedding feast in Cana. In the Gospel account we get very little information about why Jesus or his mother are at this feast or what prompts Mary to be so concerned about the lack of wine. Dallas Jenkins’ imaginative retelling in The Chosen provides a beautiful reflection on the way that the feminine genius of Mary prompted this first miracle of Jesus that set into motion the events that would lead to Calvary.
In the episode, the wedding is being hosted by Dinah, a friend of Mary, on behalf of her daughter. Dinah and her husband are trying to do their best to impress their daughter’s new wealthy and influential in-laws. They have poured all that they can afford into the decorations, the food, and especially the wine. As Mary helps the couple prepare for the festivities, she notices just how much her friend has sacrificed in order to keep up the appropriate appearances. Anything that goes wrong will reflect poorly on Dinah and her family and would ruin their already tenuous standing in their town. This context provides the impetus for Mary’s request of her son at the banquet. It is her sensitivity to her friend’s situation that alerts her to the crisis and its possibly devastating consequences and she takes that to the only person she knows who can help. She gains nothing for herself in asking for this miracle and seeks this help behind the scenes so that, in the end, the host couple receive the praise for their apparent generosity in serving the best wine last.
In reflecting on the feminine genius, Mary Jo Anderson points to sensitivity as one of its main characteristics. She writes that “a woman’s receptive nature is at the heart of her sensitivity. Having the capacity to welcome life within her own body makes her ever alert to the inner life of others…[it is] a gift that women have to see beyond the exterior and look into the deepest needs of the heart, never separating the inner person from his outward contribution.” Anderson goes on to say that this sensitivity fuels a woman’s generosity, making her more in tune with and available for the needs of her community. This sensitivity and generosity are perfectly modelled by Mary in Cana.
In a world that often feels like it’s crying out for a hero to fix its endless crises, it can be hard to imagine that we have any standout role to play. We can feel helpless in our inability to influence the powerful in order to make meaningful change. What the episode at Cana can show us is the true power of the feminine genius at play in the world. That sensitivity and generosity that we all as women have been gifted is the key to making meaningful changes in the world around us. We may not be called to be the leader in a movement, but we can tap into these gifts at the service of those around us. We can see into their lives and work to alleviate the wounds, suffering, and pain of those around us. We do this, most importantly, by centering the person and his or her dignity over their situation or circumstances. As we care for the needs of individuals, we can begin to challenge and move society toward caring for the needs of others more broadly.
St. John Paul II recognized these feminine gifts in the mission of Jesus stating, “from the beginning of Christ’s mission, women show to him and to his mystery a special sensitivity which is characteristic of their femininity” (Mulieris Dignitatem 16, emphasis in the original). He goes on to argue that it is precisely this sensitivity which allows them to be present in Christ’s most difficult moments and to be in the position to be the first to encounter His empty tomb. They are able to recognize the need to remain present to Him and walk with Him, to wipe His face, to lament His death, and to care for His body. We women today can also tap into this gift of sensitivity in order to enter into the suffering and needs of those around us. We, too, can stand by those we love as they suffer, wipe their face and clean their wounds, and continue to tend to them as they come back to life. In a world that often seeks to shout, shame, and be both powerful and right at the expense of others, women can step out of the fray and seek to enter into the experience of another and be moved to aid them generously. The success of science and technology, John Paul II continues, has made it possible to attain material well-being to a degree hitherto unknown. While this favours some, it pushes others to the edges of society. In this way, unilateral progress can also lead to a gradual loss of sensitivity for man, that is, for what is essentially human. In this sense, our time in particular awaits the manifestation of that “genius” which belongs to women, and which can ensure sensitivity for human beings in every circumstance ((Mulieris Dignitatem 30).
Women have a particular ability to “comprehend not merely with the intellect but also with the heart” which is a gift so desperately needed in our world that has shifted to valuing people based on what they can do rather than on their dignity for merely existing as human (Edith Stein, “Problems of Women’s Education” in Essays on Women). When Mary recognizes the need for more wine at her friend’s wedding feast it is a knowledge she derives from the heart. The reason that this is so important is not just an issue of hospitality but one of maintaining the dignity of her friend and her family within their social context.
Oftentimes, we tend to think of generosity as something that comes in the form of charity work or money or material donations. However, Mary shows us that our generosity is what we can offer that flows from the heart. We can use our sensitivity to truly see the suffering or need of another and to try to alleviate it as best as we can in the moment. We can follow Mary’s example primarily by taking that need to her son. We can serve as an intercessor for others by bringing their needs to prayer and laying them at the feet of Christ, especially at times when they find that they can’t pray or turn to Christ for themselves. We can also do what we can in the moment. We can bring a meal, offer to watch their kids, listen to their painful story, hold their hand through a difficult appointment, find the resource they need to take the next step in their recovery or job search. Taking these steps may not change the world or even the reasons that are causing so much suffering, but they can be redemptive.
Mary’s fiat usually gets the credit for her contribution to salvation history, and rightly so, however, this moment at Cana is arguably another moment in which Mary assists in putting Jesus’ ministry into motion. Jesus reminds her when she first asks Him for the favor that His time has not yet come. This first public act will change everything. With this simple request He will go from being the carpenter’s son in Nazareth to the fulfillment of all that has been promised that ultimately will lead to His “hour,” His death. When we follow Mary’s example and serve others from a place of true understanding, generosity, and love for them in their current predicament, we can possibly change the course of their history. Through simple gestures of time and presence, and sometimes material aid, we can be the one that helps a woman feel supported enough to keep her baby, that helps a young mother feel less isolated and alone with her newborn, that helps the elderly woman feel like she still has a purpose, or helps the homeless man once again feel like a person with dignity and worth.
Mary as a model can often feel lofty and unattainable. I often feel like I can never live up to the sinless Mother of God and calling her the perfect disciple feels unfair. It is moments like these, the wedding at Cana or the Visitation, in which Mary acts out of her natural feminine genius that impels her to respond in the maternal, sensitive, and generous way gifted to all women that I can finally see the way that I can follow in those often immeasurable footsteps. A true disciple, she acts from a place of selfless love for the good of another and seeks no glory for herself. This episode not only models what sensitivity and generosity can look like, but serves as a reminder that we are not called to carry out this work on our own, nor are we ever anyone’s savior. While we can help solve a personal crisis with small actions, the pivotal step should always be to give it over to Christ and to “do whatever He tells of you” (John 2:5).
