There is a question that dogs the human spirit in all lands, all nations, all times…
Here at Madonna House in Missouri we have been in construction mode for the past couple of years. We are building a larger chapel to accommodate the growing scope of our apostolate and to open our house here in the Ozarks to larger groups and events.
Anyone who has engaged in building projects in recent years and who is working with contractors knows it is a matter fraught with difficulty. Labor shortages are the norm, with consequent long delays in the building process.
Along with that problem comes a phrase that strikes terror in the hearts of anyone trying to get work done these days: supply chain problems. Ah yes, that pesky matter, so common right now, of securing adequate materials in a timely fashion.
In recent years, the supply chain — the complex system which delivers goods from groceries to grommets, apples to Air conditioning units — seems to be somewhat fragile, to the consternation of many North Americans.
I realize that for many Restoration readers outside North America, this consternation is somewhat baffling. In many parts of the world, shortages of basic goods are rather normal. Those of us in the affluent West need to remember that what is a sporadic and mild issue for us is a pressing and constant problem for many of our brothers and sisters.
The phrase “supply chain problem” has lodged in my brain, though, with a deeper meaning. It is a question that dogs the human spirit in all lands, all nations, all times. Is there going to be enough? Enough to go around, enough for my family, enough for me…? These questions speak to a deep anxiety in the human spirit.
The Gospels pick up on the theme of shortages in a way that addresses the spiritual heart of the problem, no matter what our individual situation is: the wedding at Cana, the tragedy of running out of wine at a nuptial banquet.
We don’t know why the wine is all gone (some have suggested that Jesus showing up at the wedding accompanied by twelve of his closest friends might be a factor, but this is mere speculation). But the supply chain is broken, and the impact on the wedding feast is devastating.
Jewish wedding feasts of that time normally lasted for seven days. The family hosting the wedding was solemnly obliged to offer food and drink in abundance during the whole time. A failure in the wine provision would be a dishonor casting a shadow on the whole affair, a disgrace that would taint the reputation of the family and foretell unhappiness for the newly wedded couple.
Of course, this miracle, while operating at the level of the practical and the immediate, has meanings and implications well beyond the needs of the banquet and of that family. Its deeper meaning shines a bright light on the spiritual issues any shortage of material goods presents to us.
Wine, biblically speaking, is the great symbol of joy, of a life lived beyond the level of mere grim survival. Life that has room for a feast or two, once in a while. Such is the purpose of wine, to elevate life from endurance to celebration.
Biblically speaking, weddings are the great symbol of the delight of creation. Man and woman crying out in joy as they mutually recognize the bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh of the first wedded couple. And God’s ongoing delight in his creation, his ongoing choice to say “It is very good” to the world he made and to the human person he made in his image.
People are good and bring us joy, and we want more of them! Such is the sense of marriage, biblically — our own entry into and participation with God’s own creativity and love.
Well, is that supply chain broken, then? Not the one bringing gas for our cars, or lumber for our building, or even basic food stuffs (serious as all those matters are). But is the human race running out of joy?
Is awareness of the goodness of God’s creation and the goodness of the human person, the sheer delight in existence and from that, the affirmation that it is very good to exist and that life should go on; human life in particular should go on — is this running a bit dry in our world today? Are those shelves getting a bit bare?
Are we, as a human race, as a society, increasingly running on empty? That’s a big question and doesn’t admit of a simplistic yes or no answer, but it is worth posing and pondering.
Certainly, in the lives of individuals and families, there are times and seasons when “the wine runs out,” when the joy and enthusiasm of life yields to something else, something a bit barren and dry. When life seems to collapse to the level of mere survival, a grim endurance test. The wine is gone, so just try your best to stay hydrated, I guess.
In spiritual terms, this is known as acedia, the collapse of joy in the human project, the growing sense of profound futility, of failure, the conviction that life does not possess a happy ending in eternal bliss but ends in defeat and dissolution. Few are they whose lives are not touched by acedia, at least some of the time.
The miracle at Cana is a prophetic manifestation of the power and the will of God to make all things new — to restore the joy of our youth, to renew in us the certainty of the goodness of God and from that, the goodness of life and creation.
Beyond that, even, it is the manifestation (or epiphany) of God’s action to not only reaffirm his original word of judgment on creation — it is very good — but to bring that word to its completion.
You have kept the best wine until now — the joy Christ brings to the wedding feast, to creation, and to humanity is not simply a restoration of the joy of Eden but the fullness of joy which is essentially the life and communion of love of the Trinity.
This wine he brings to us is the love of the Father springing from the pierced heart of the Son and flowing upon us in the living waters springing up from within — the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on all mankind while supplies last. And last they will, unto eternity.
Supply chain problems in this world may resolve themselves or not. We of the prosperous nations of the West could join so many of our brothers and sisters throughout the world in experiencing genuine scarcity and want, not for the first time in our history, even if it is the first time in living memory for most of us. This may not be an entirely bad thing.
But what about the real supply chain problem, which is the tenuous, tentative grasp human beings have on joy, on goodness, on faith in the capacity of God and his good will to make all things new and to bring his beloved creature humanity to its final destination?
That problem is always with us, as is its resolution. Faith in Jesus Christ and constant recourse to him in prayer and trust, in abandonment and obedience to his Gospel — this is the way Joy comes to us, restocks the shelves of our hearts from its inexhaustible bounty, fills and refills our tanks to bear us along the road of life unto the journey’s end.
[image from the Codex Egberti, German 10th century illuminated manuscript.]
