Archived Homily: “The Wine of Transformation: How the Contemplation of Heaven Changes Us”

Brothers, there are some sermons over which I labor. There are some that the Lord shows me in an instant. And there are some that – well, there’s no other way to put it – bubble up within me. Sometimes the Lord will use a movie, a bumper-sticker, a song, or a funny story to show me how to preach the text at hand. This time he used a wonderful little novel, “The Enchanted April,” to show me an aspect of today’s Scripture lessons that I’d overlooked. One night last week, as I lay in bed reading that novel, it struck me – deep down – that it’s really okay to enjoy – even to get lost in – the beautiful things of God and his creation. I have to tell you, that simple, little notion took my breath away. How many of us forget – or have never heard – that it’s okay to enjoy God; that one of his deepest desires for us is the kind of fellowship that’s too deep for words and too profound for anything but awe and reverence. A couple of years ago Emily and I were given a copy of a movie based on Elizabeth von Arnim’s novel “The Enchanted April.” Though I don’t think the author was a believer, her story has a profound fixation on the transforming power of heaven. Picture, if you will, four souls trapped in the dreary drabness of late winter. One after another, they see an advertisement for a villa in southern Italy – a villa described as a little bit of heaven. One after another – each for their own reasons – they ponder an escape from the dreariness of winter and their daily lives. Unfortunately, their ponderings have more to do with escape from dreariness than with the beauty that awaits them. You see, just like so many of us – just like the Israelites of old, and just like the people of Jesus’ day – these four ladies can’t see the forest for the trees. There’s a profound difference between escaping from something and running to embrace something; between concern for meeting our needs and allowing ourselves to be surprised by beauty and joy. Contemplating the list of our needs and contemplating the One who lavishly meets those needs are not the same thing. The difference between the two is whether we wear God down with our lists or allow him to speak to us; whether, in the final analysis, we allow God to surprise us. These four ladies – as they contemplate their journey to Italy – aren’t focusing on the grand beauty and surprising joy that await them. No, they’re clawing at the edges of their dreary, boring, and loveless lives. In fact, they’ve made up their minds that they’ll each control as much of the villa and their time there as possible. Not only do they want their list of needs met, they know exactly how they want them met. What a shame that they’ve left no room for surprise, no room for beauty and joy and love! So – and I must ask this question – are most of us not in the same boat? Are we not so focused on our needs and how we want them met, that we’ve left no room for God to step in and surprise us? The truth of the matter is this: We’ve become so insulated, independent and self-sufficient that we’ve squeezed God and each other right out of the picture. At worst, we think, “Jesus is okay, as long as he meets my needs.” At best, we think, “Jesus, stand by until I need you.” Once our four ladies arrive at the Villa in Italy, they go about the business of staking out their territory and guarding it jealously. The walls of emotional protection are up in full force. There’s sneering, there’s building of barricades – literally! – and there are plenty of unspoken, nasty thoughts. It sounds like some days around here, doesn’t it! It wasn’t bound to last for long, though. Once the realization sets in with one of the four that they’ve landed themselves in a sort of heaven, she begins to change. As she contemplates the beauty of what she can only describe as heaven – the flowers, the sunshine, the azure blue of the sea, the singing of the birds – her heart begins to open. She undergoes a radical transformation of temperament and receives a willingness to share. She realizes – in her own way – what the Gospel commands of us: That we are to be light in the darkness and love to the unlovable. Within a day of arriving, this gentle soul drops her guard, takes on a saintly patience for her companions, and invites the partner of her loveless marriage to join her in Italy – all because she recognizes that ‘heaven’ has changed her and will change those around her. She insists on being patient as, one by one, they all watch her in her contemplation of beauty and joy. And, one by one, ‘heaven’ works on each of them as they are transformed – as they contemplate ‘heaven’s’ beauty and joy. As it is in this little villa, so it was in Cana of Galilee. Our Lord was born into the world of time and space – a world full of men and women as unchanging in their fallen human nature as he is steadfast in his love, beauty, and purity. In today’s Gospel lesson we see our Lord at a wedding feast. (By the way, I find it interesting that the beginning and ending of Jesus’ public ministry are both marked by a wedding feast. But more on that later.) We all know the story. In fact, we might know it a little too well. When we think we know things we miss the point, we overlook the beauty and the joy that are inherent. We’ve come to think of the happenings in Cana as being performed without any forethought – even done reluctantly and in haste – the only purpose being to save the reputation of the bridegroom. How little we know! How small our minds! How horribly attached to our lists of needs we must be to assume that our Lord’s only purpose was to re-supply wine for a wedding reception! But the picture changes radically when we allow ourselves to contemplate heaven, doesn’t it? We see the Lord of heaven and earth bringing forth beauty and joy as he surprises the servants, the steward, the bridegroom, and us! If the contemplation of beautiful flowers and sunshine in an Italian villa can radically transform a soul, how much more should the real transformation of water into wine jumpstart our own transformation? So let’s take a moment and contemplate the intervention of heaven into our world. Why turn water into wine? Why do it at a wedding feast? Come on, now, contemplate it with me! Look behind the words and our own neediness and see what’s really happening! Just as Jesus calls us to be salt that brings ‘flavor’ to the world around us – just as he calls us to be filled with the divine ‘flavor’ that was made bland and ordinary by human sin – so he takes the water that sustains ordinary human life and changes it into flavorful wine. And not only that, he does it in the context of a wedding feast – a feast celebrating the union of two becoming one. Now keep on contemplating with me! It’s no accident that Jesus does all of this at a wedding feast. We’re told in both Scripture and Tradition that when the body of Christ gathers to celebrate the Lord’s Supper it’s a foreshadowing of the Marriage Feast of the Lamb at the end of time – the consummation, if you will, of the marriage of the Church to her heavenly Groom. We’re also told in Scripture and Tradition that the first service of Holy Communion in the Church – the first foreshadowing of the Marriage Feast of the Lamb – takes place in the Upper Room as Jesus gives his precious Body and Blood to the disciples. Do you feel your eyes opening? Is there a feeling welling up in your souls reacting to this contemplation? I hope so, because there’s more to come. You see, the transformation of water into wine begun in Cana comes to its completion in the Upper Room when Jesus transforms the wine of the Passover meal – the Marriage Feast of the Lamb – into his most precious Blood. And that Blood is our new life in Christ. It’s the covenant of our forgiveness in him. Without it we are dead, ordinary, bland, and terminally self-centered. Without the precious Blood of Jesus – which we receive at every Mass, through the miracle that takes place in our midst – we’re utterly incapable of beauty and joy. Beneath the appearance of all that is ordinary, loathsome, and dreary is the hand of him who is extraordinary, beautiful, and loving. Beneath the appearance of water was wine; beneath the appearance of wine is the precious Blood of our Savior; and beneath the appearance of our desperate longings is the beauty, joy, and love of Jesus attempting to break through. Even beneath the appearance of punishment in this place is the grace of God’s love, transformation, and restoration. We have only to contemplate it, embrace it, and listen to it. How do I know this to be true? Because God has promised it. Speaking through the Prophet Isaiah, he tells us that he’s not going to rest until our contemplations are fruitful and his vision for us comes to pass. His relentless love is contemplating us as he makes this promise. He says: ‘For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest, until her vindication goes forth as brightness, and her salvation as a burning torch…You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God. You shall no more be termed “Forsaken,” and your land shall no more be termed “Desolate;” but you shall be called “My Delight Is in Her,” and your land [shall be called] “Married”…’ (selected verses from Isaiah, chapter 62, RSV) Talk about a vision to be contemplated! And yet, Jesus takes this deepest of desires and shows it to us in what – we wrongly assume – is a simple little miracle. We’ve taken a miraculous sign from him and – because of our sinful neediness – we’ve turned it into nothing more than a last-minute trip to the local liquor store. Jesus’ purpose in all this is to awaken within us his truth. He desperately wants his Bride next to him. He wants her to see what she can be and to experience and share it to the fullest. Just like the lady at the villa whose contemplation of ‘heaven’ caused her eyes to be opened, her list of needs to be dropped, and her heart to be opened for sharing, so we who have contemplated this miracle of Jesus must be very vigilant against the smallness and ordinariness of life trespassing on the beauty and joy of Jesus. The Blessed Mother said, “Do whatever he tells you.” I couldn’t agree more! When you feel the weight of your list of needs growing; when you look around and see only dreariness and sadness; when you open your eyes and fail to see, take a moment and do what he tells you. Take a moment and remember the beauty and joy beneath your burdens. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Father Todd Boyce, Vicar The Fellowship of Saint Joseph Sunday, January 17, 2010