The Wedding at Cana and Black Lives Matter
July 01, 2020
When the wine ran short, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” Jesus said to her, “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.”
John 2:3-4 (NABRE)
This short exchange between Jesus and Mary can be puzzling at-a-glance. The first time I heard it explained, it was used as an example of Jesus rebuking his mother. Indeed, the way this line is commonly rendered in English makes it easy to interpret Jesus’ response to Mary as a curt rebuttal—as if he is saying “why are you bothering me about this?” I think this can be partly attributed to Jesus addressing Mary as “Woman.” Coloquially, it would be rude to refer to one’s mother in this manner. Far better minds have explored Jesus’ reason for addressing Mary in this way”—Dr. Scott Hahn and Dr. Edward Sri come to mind— but the short-version is that it is a callback to Genesis 2, when Adam first calls Eve “Woman.” For this reflection, I want to focus on the meaning of Jesus’ words that follow (or precede, in the original Greek).
Τί ἐμοὶ καὶ σοί γύναι
Ti emoi kai soi gynai
What [is this] to me and to you, woman?
biblehub.com
I find it odd that most, if not all, modern translations of this passage seem to remove Jesus’ inquiry into what this (whatever is being talked about) is to you (Mary). I have no knowledge of the Greek language, but a quick internet search reveals that the case of ἐμοὶ and σοί are identical (stressed, dative, singular). Thus, when the Bible translated seems to take for granted that the this (concern) being talked about inherently comes from Mary, it is possible to lose a portion of the meaning behind Jesus’ words. Is he asking what Mary’s concern has to do with him, or is he asking “what does this have to do with you and me?”
Mary tells Jesus that the wedding hosts have run out of wine. He replies asking if she knows what this means for the two of them—how it will affect them. Jesus asks this because he already knows how this is going to affect him and his mother. He knows that this first public miracle will be the inaugural step in his three-year mission of proclaiming the Kingdom of God. He is asking Mary if she knows this as well—that for Jesus to begin the work for which the Father has sent him, she will need to let her son go. Jesus will have to leave his home—where he had spent the first thirty years of his life with Mary—behind. Mary answers by telling the servants to obey whatever Jesus asks of them.
“Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will give you light.”
Ephesians 5:14
Sisters and brothers in Christ, as the country collectively wakes up to the injustices suffered by Black Americans for centuries, the Body of Christ is being asked: “What is this to me and to you?” We have the option to continue living in the comfort of the homes we have built, or we can take our first steps into the reality that our Black brothers and sisters face each day. Like Jesus, we will be launched into a new mission, a new calling in life. Once you acknowledge the racial inequalities experienced by Black Americans, there is no turning back as a Christian.
Thus says the LORD: Do what is right and just. Rescue the victims from the hand of their oppressors. Do not wrong or oppress the resident alien, the orphan, or the widow, and do not shed innocent blood in this place.
Jeremiah 22:3
To enter into this mission is to enter into Christ’s commandments to love our neighbors (Mt 22:39, Jn 13:34) and to make disciples of all nations (Mt 28:19). In some sense Jesus’ public ministry was a glorious display of his heavenly power as he performed miracles, healed the sick, and even raised the dead. In other ways it was a tragedy wherein he was abandoned and betrayed by his followers and disciples, and eventually was unjustly persecuted and executed by the powers that be. We are setting out on a divinely appointed task that may lead us to loss of friendship, family, security, and comfort. But in doing so we unite ourselves with those longing for justice, peace, and freedom; and we unite ourselves to the compassionate Christ who suffered out of love for people of all races.
Ultimately, as Christians, we believe that the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus paved the way for us to be free from sin, to live in communion with God and neighbor. Racism is deeply entrenched in America’s history, culture, and society. It is a sin that prevents us from seeing each other as brother and sister, as fellow children of God. It robs people of their dignity, their humanity, and in so many sad cases, their lives. If Jesus died for all of our sins, he died for an end to racism as much as he died for an end to theft, murder, and war. Is it not, then, our duty to confront racism with the same zeal, boldness, and righteous anger that we exert to thwart other sins against God and man?
Mary comes to Jesus to tell him that the bride and the bridegroom have run out of wine. How much wine do Black Americans have left? How much more blood must be spilt? Brothers and sisters, the hour has come.