2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (Am I, Your Mother, Not Here)

Fr. Jerry Burns and I celebrated Mass two days ago at the Basilica of Our lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City, as I do just about every year. If memory serves me correctly, it’s the second-most visited Christian site in the world. It’s positively vibrant with living faith.

 A Mass is celebrated every hour on the main altar of the basilica. One time we con-celebrated at one of those Masses. During the first reading, the principal-celebrant, a priest of the basilica, leaned over and asked me to proclaim the Gospel. I agreed, then said a quick prayer. The Alleluia music began, and I nervously processed to the ambo. The flood of lights obscured my ability to see the people in the pews, and the sound of my voice, echoing through the PA system was disorienting. I got through it fine, and there was a certain joy in it all, but ever since then, our preference has been to celebrate a private Mass in one of the many chapels that are in the balcony, above and behind the pews.

The chapels face toward the main altar, where hanging just above, is the beautiful image that appeared in 1531 on an apron made of cactus fibers, worn by an indigenous peasant named Juan Diego. Christian missionaries had come from the old world decades before, but had made little progress in drawing the people to Jesus. Inexplicably, after the apparition, everything changed: over the next seven years, eight million natives were drawn to life in Jesus through his mother[i].

In the humble image we know as Our Lady of Guadalupe, there are numerous mysterious and interesting details. One that tends to escape notice is the maternity band around the mid-section of Mary’s body: She appeared to the people of the New World, with the life of her Son within her. Mary never comes alone.

But back to the basilica: Outside, above the main doors, are the words:

No estoy aqui yo, que soy tu madre?”, meaning “Am I, your mother, not here?”

These are words Mary said to Juan Diego, to help him trust. By extension, they are words to us, inviting us in to come find her Son.

In today’s Gospel, she is the first person mentioned. At the wedding feast, a crisis has ensued, the wine has run dry. The mother of Jesus urges him to act and make it right. His response is curious, and might even seem a little bit jarring: “Woman, how does your concern affect me?”

While the title ‘woman’ was a common way of addressing women of that time, it was not used for one’s own mother. I’ve heard it suggested that Jesus calling her woman suggests a change in Mary’s role in God’s plan of salvation. It reveals that she went from being just his mother, to becoming also his first disciple. Unfazed by being called “woman” by her Son, Mary promptly acted as a disciple, immediately telling the servers, “Do whatever he tells you”. In obedience to Mary, the first disciple, the servers did what Jesus instructed, and from that, water became wine.

Wine was understood to be a symbol for joy. I remind you that, in the Gospel of John, this was Jesus’ first miracle. But St. John doesn’t call them miracles, he calls them signs, and there would be a total of seven. He calls them signs, because they are principally done to reveal Jesus’ identity. This sign was intended to reveal that Jesus came to bring joy through a marriage with humankind—or as he says it in another part of John’s Gospel: “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly” (Jn 10:10). The water symbolized the human condition, but Jesus came to divinize it, to elevate it, to change it into wine. And Mary says, Let him do it….”Do whatever he tells you”.

She is mentioned only twice in St. John’s Gospel, once at the beginning and once at the end, but never by name, only as “the mother of Jesus”. In this first mention, as we heard it today, she went from being Jesus’ mother to disciple. In the last mention, at the foot of the cross, where Jesus saw the Beloved Disciple, whom theologians suggest represents us all. To him—and by extension, us—Jesus said, “Behold, your mother” (Jn 19: 25-27). Mary went from being Jesus’ mother, to disciple, and now…..our mother.

I urge you, in whatever way you’ve cast aside our Blessed Mother, perhaps as a way to avoid what has sometimes been called Mary-olatry, or maybe believe it to be piety of a bygone era, reconsider. If you want to know Jesus, get to know his mom, the first disciple, our mother. Just as she interceded to Jesus on behalf of humanity, urging him to bring joy, to elevate us, so will she intercede for you. Yes, you can ask our Lord directly, but what would you also ask our mother, to urge her Son on your behalf? She says to you: “No estoy aqui yo, que soy tu madre?”….“Am I, your mother, not here?”

Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God….

….that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

 


[i] Elizondo, La Morenita: Evangelizer of the Americas, 50-86, 105-121.