Whenever the Sabbath comes to an end it gives way to Sunday, and the stresses of the upcoming week. The Joy of the Day of rest often turns into a wrestlessness, and irritation, anger even fear at what's to come. Sometimes what's to come doesn't seem very far off. We greet the day that is ended, but are being pulled back into the mess of the world beyond. What is more, that mess seems all the more calling having come out of the place of rest.
The narthex service was full of joy, but the last two and the aftermath of the evening had an anxiety to them. When I went to do important paperwork which I thought I would get through quickly, I was stuck in a morass of nonsense, angered by how essential things were made difficult by a swollen systenm that offers help but reluctantly. The anger and anxiety was ramped up in me and the joy of the narthex that night began to fade. I could barely believe there would be joy in the morning.
I want to add to this the desperate desire to give up sometimes, have a lighter plate with one parent recently deceased and the other hospitalized and griping about wanting to go home. I want, I want, I want. I want shit to slow down and get a fuck of a lot easier. This last president was egregious but I have no signs that things will be better under a new one. The world seemed so mad and misguided before it was as if wonderful things might slip through the cracks. Now I am a little afraid of business as usual.I am, of course, not alone in my frustration, Across town, a close friend whose life looks the very picture of perfection is living in a house with an ever complaining elderly mother, furnaces broken, washer and dryer broken, car stolen, children stuggling through depression, and little time to breathe. Another friend is in the midst of legal battles with a soon to be ex wife, and a loss of focus in life while yet another is stuggling with being a single mother, dealing with the father of her child, and her employment stresses. And these are the ones who are standing. My troubles are barely exceptional.
And yet this is the Sunday on which I celebrate the second and third initiation into 1734, keep it up, don't give it up, recommit to it, and in recommiting to it, recommit to Him, for the celebration of the Wedding at Cana is the celebration of the mystery of the mystical marriage, my union to the Christ in this world, the thing called the Mystical Marriage, the Alchymical Wedding. Together, the Wedding at Cana and the Miracle of the Feeding the Five Thousand, water to wine and mutliplied loaves, are the epiphany of the Eucharist. That at the very beginning of this joint mystery I am at such a state, irritated, discombulated, a little troubled, should not be surprising.
The celebration of the Epiphanies has fallen out of favor because looking too deeply into a thing has fallen out of favor. The Wedding at Cana is, simply put, a story in the Gospel of John which is synoptically placed after the tempation and the gathering of he disciples and presumably before the rest of the ministry. But within John it is a story that actually REPLACES the Temptation as well as the opening stories about Jesus's first healings and the gathering of his disciples. They are invited to a weddning and Jesus's mother is there and the details are rather short except that wine runs out and Mary has Jesus make new wine. Jesus, in fact, does not want to. The new wine is better than the old, and the party goes on.
Within the story Jesus is one of the crowd and out of the way. Metaphorically, he is the Bridegroom. In the other gospels there is a parable of the bridegroom and bride. And John uses this imagery in Revelation. Here, John just tells the story of a wedding and Jesus transforms water used for purification into drinkable wine. There is no final lesson offered, just a list of characters, possibly interchangable, that we are given to make us contemplate
Jesus
His Mother
The Disciples.
The Unseen Bride
The Unseen Groom
The Caterer Who is Amazed
For me this is a night of asking, am I continuing on with this, am I joining myself to the Lord? There are many ways to pray, to worship, to believe, but the mystical marriage is the highest where we say, I am his and he is mine. After a while there is really no choice. Asking becomes a formality, and yet we keep it from being a formality. We come back to this again and again. Despite all the immense bullshit, we say, Lord to whom else can we go. For you have the words of everlasting life."
It is helpful to remember that this is a miracle of transformation, of leaving one thing to become another, of the power of the Wedded Jesus to do just that. It matters to remember that weddings were festivals and marriages were not romances. I do this thing grabbing joy from irritation, fear and frustration and it helps to remember that in all times, but especially in ancient times marriages were not the end of a happy story and the typing up of all lose ends, but the beginning of a united life in a difficult world and a union which tied not only to people, but a community together. The wedding at Cana and many weddings would have taken place in the midst of trouble and mourning. The celebration would not have been because everything was taken care, but inspite of the trouble around and the trouble ahead.
I had initially said that for me this is a night of asking, but perhaps it is better to say this is a night in which I begin asking.
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