Trusting Her Son

     Remember the story in the Bible about the wedding where Mary, so calmly, so matter-of-factly, told her Son that they had no wine? Hey, if you were at a wedding as a mere wedding guest, would you march up to your son and announce that they were out of wine? Seems to me, if you did, he would give you a quizzical look and say, “What’s that to me, Mom? That’s not my problem.” I mean, really, Jesus hadn’t done any miracles yet, so what was she expecting of him, anyways?

   I got to thinking about that lately, and let me paint you a word picture of what might have preceded those words. See that little tyke manfully struggling with a pail of goat’s milk that’s nearly scrapping the ground?

          “I’m helping you, Mama,” Jesus announced gleefully, heedless of all the milk sloshing out of the pail and on to his tunic.

Do you see him later struggling with an armload of leeks nearly as tall as him? Only yesterday Mama had brought in a couple, and not long before, another one. He would save her many trips to the garden by pulling them all at once.

           And there comes Joseph, all hot and weary from an on-the-spot repair of a cart that had broken down and he had to help unload before even beginning the repairs. Six year old Jesus knew instantly how to help, and rushed to one of the large earthenware vessels to get him a cup of cold water.

          Then there all the times one of his younger siblings fell and hurt themselves, or had some other minor ‘calamity’, and he helped the crying youngster, either by being a peacemaker, or bringing the hurting one to Mary so she could do whatever needed to be done.

          And there is Mary, lying on the sleeping bench, all feverish and headachy, and who is dipping a cloth into a bowl of cool water and soothing her brow?

  The list could probably go on and on. Is it any wonder she turned to him in this hour of need?
           “They have no wine,” she says so naturally, so trustingly, and I have a sneaking hunch a twinkle comes to Jesus’ eye when he says, “Woman, what have I to do with you?” He knows that she is thinking about all the times he had reached out in kindness to those he loved, which was everyone, actually, and has the confidence he would not want to let these worried people down, either.

          He hadn’t felt ready to start his ministry, but how do you say “no” to a mother’s trust and a friend’s need?