It was my day off a day after this last Christmas Day, so a Nigerian family invited me to their home in Escondido, CA. When I got there, a family from Ghana was also there. We started talking about life in Africa, which led us to talk about how our African mothers would make us do things we would ordinarily not do. We were all surprised to realize the similarities between our mothers. For example, I go home on vacation, and before my arrival, my mom already has a list of relatives and friends I must greet during my short vacation. Or even while away from home, she calls to ask, “When last did you call your aunt, uncle, cousin, or friend on the phone?” I often protest, “Mom, do you realize how busy I am?” Other times, I ask, “These people you keep insisting on me visiting or calling on the phone; how often do their children visit or call you?” Then she replies, “I have no control over their children; I just want to be sure my own child does the right thing.” Whenever she calls me and says, “Father, please, do not be offended; I know you are very busy, but…” At that point, I know there must be somebody I need to visit, call, pray for, or help in one way or another. She always wins the argument, and truth be told, even when I hesitate, I always feel way better and fulfilled when I do what she asks me to do. Thanks, Mom!
After reading today’s Gospel passage, I think Jesus would have fit well into my conversation with my African friends regarding our mothers. After listening to us, Jesus would have said, “Guys, I know my mom is not from Africa; she is from Nazareth, but having listened to what you guys have been saying about your mothers, my mom would blend well with African Mothers. Let me give you just one example of an argument I had with my mom when I just turned thirty.”
Then he would have continued:
One of our distant relatives was getting married, and we both got invited to this wedding. I had just started recruiting men to help with the homework my Dad in Heaven gave me. So, after a long day’s work, I thought it was cool to take these men with me to the wedding. When we arrived, I took my new friends around to greet my extended family members; then, we found a quiet corner to debrief on all we did during the day. About halfway into the occasion, I noticed my mom at a distance looking worried, going from one of my uncles, aunts, or cousins to another, whispering into their ears and each of them shrugging their shoulders and opening their palms indicating they did not know the answer to whatever she was asking them about. Suddenly, one of my aunts tapped my mom on the shoulder and pointed to the direction of where I was with my new friends. Then Peter, one of my friends sitting between James and John, said, “It seems your mom needs your attention.” Just then, I saw Mom approaching us; she moved so fast that she hardly landed one foot on the ground before raising the next. As soon as we made eye contact, I recognized that look; I wondered what she wanted me to do this time. I just hoped she was not coming to get me from my friends to go greet another great-granduncle or aunt. Then she said, “Son, they have no wine.”
Those words reminded me of the many times I thought Mom was getting me into other people’s business. Without holding back, do you know what I told my mom? I said it in Aramaic, but let me tell you how it sounded in Greek: “Ti emoi kai soi, gune?” It is difficult to translate into English, but it is something like, “Woman, how is that our business? We are only guests here!” I then reminded her it was not yet my hour. Did you notice I did not call her “Mom” as usual? I called her “Woman.” I know it sounds rude, but I will explain.
So, after I said those words that sounded rude, she did not say anything to me. She just looked me straight in the eye, and I remembered all the times I thought she was wrong in getting me to do things for people, but I later felt good after I did what she asked me to do. She gave me another look and noticed how my heart melted for her. She did not say anything to me; she just turned to the servers and told them to follow my instructions. To cut a long story short, that was how I performed my first public miracle; I changed water into wine, sweeter than anyone ever tasted. Thanks, Mom!
So, was Jesus rude when he addressed his Mother as “Woman” in today’s gospel passage? Archbishop Fulton Sheen helps us understand this story by calling our attention to the fact that the wedding feast at Cana was a rehearsal for Calvary. There is a clear connection between this wedding feast and what will happen at Calvary. When Jesus used the title, “Woman” for his mother, he implied, “Are you ready for what you are getting me into? Do you realize that when I perform this miracle, it will reveal my divine identity to the world, and that will change my relationship with you forever? You will no longer be mother to only me, you will be Woman, the mother of all that I have come to save. Are you ready for that?”
When Jesus gets on the Cross on Calvary, he is going to call Mary by the same name, “Woman,” and he will say “Behold your son,” referring to John, who represents all of us, and then to John, he will say, “Behold your mother.” So, by Mary encouraging Jesus to perform this miracle at the wedding at Cana, she was letting go of that exclusive relationship she had with Jesus, and she was opening herself up to embracing the entire world and taking up the responsibility of becoming the New Eve, the Mother of all men and women. When Mary came to tell Jesus that there was no wine, there was some hesitation from the humanity of Jesus. He was trying to pull back; he did not seem ready for the battle. But Mary encouraged him to go on. Similarly, at Gethsemane, the humanity of Jesus will fight saying, “Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass me by,” but his Father will encourage him to carry on. Do you see how his earthly parent mirrors his heavenly parent? Both of them encouraged Jesus to carry on.
My dearly beloved in Christ, today’s passage shows Mary’s sacrifice to let go of Jesus for our salvation. At the age of twelve, she ran to the temple to get Jesus back home, but now, she is letting go of Jesus. It is good to understand and help our inner circle, but there is time to let go of that inner circle to realize our universal mission. We learn from Mary to help others realize their potential. This story teaches us that other people’s businesses are ours. Yes, human nature may always make us ask, “Is this my business?” The answer is, “Yes, it is; God created you for a moment like this one.” Finally, reflecting on the positive influences of mothers over their children, Archbishop Sheen adds, “Some of the greatest miracles of the world have similarly been done through the influence of a mother: The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.” Because she encouraged Jesus to perform his first public miracle, we turn to the Blessed Virgin Mary today and say, “Thanks, Mom!”
Homily for 2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C 2025
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