Since marriage and the use thereof are discussed so much in the Church these days, and the passage from vice to virtue so little, it might be profitable to read these excerpts from William Durandus’ commentary on today’s Mass (Rat. Div. Off. 6, 19, 5-8) , in which he explains the authentic mystical symbolism of the Gospel, John 2, 1-11, the miracle of the wine at the wedding in Cana, and of marriage in general. Qui legit, intelligat.
Cana” means “zeal”, and “Galilee” means “transmigration.” Therefore, the fact that a marriage took place in Cana of Galilee signifies that, in the heart of one who has zeal, that is to say, an ardent desire to pass over from the vices to the virtues, from the world to the Father, from earth to heaven, a marriage takes place, and Christ the Lord is there with His Mother. For this is the among the first reasons to rejoice in this heart, where the marriage takes place, that Christ was born from the Virgin. There is water turned into wine, that is, the dullness of works is turned into spiritual rejoicing.
The Marriage at Cana, 1308-11, by Duccio di Buoninsegna (1255-1319), part of the great altarpiece of the cathedral of Siena known as the Maestà. (Public domainimage from Wikimedia Commons.)
For in that place are set forth six jars, that it, there are established and perfectly practiced the six works of mercy, which are to feed the hungry, to give drink to the thirsty, to receive the stranger, to clothe the naked, to visit the sick, to go to the imprisoned, and to bury the dead.
In the Communio “The Lord said (‘Fill the jars with water…’)”, it is mystically shown that the Lord changes the water into wine for us, meaning that the water of fear is turned into the wine of divine love, the water of the letter is turned into the wine of spiritual understanding, and the water of mortality into the wine of immortality.
Communio Jo. 2 Dicit Dóminus: Implete hydrias aqua et ferte architriclíno. Cum gustasset architriclínus aquam vinum factam, dicit sponso: Servasti bonum vinum usque adhuc. Hoc signum fecit Jesus primum coram discípulis suis. (The Lord said, ‘Fill the jars with water and take them to the chief steward.’ When the chief steward had tasted the water that had become wine, he said to the bridegroom, ‘You have kept the good wine until now.’ This was the first miracle that Jesus worked in the presence of His disciples.)
(Like most medieval authors, Durandus is an inveterate digresser; in the original text, the following sections are mixed in with the parts given above, so I have here re-ordered them. The hospice to which he refers was established in the late 720s for pilgrims coming to Rome from England, and its church dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Its presence gave the region around it the name “Saxia - place of the Saxons” (“Sassia” in Italian), while the old English word “burg - neighborhood” became the Italian name of the whole region, “Borgo”. In the reign of Pope Innocent III (1198-1216), the hospice was turned into a hospital in the modern sense, a place to care for the sick, and dedicated to the Holy Spirit; a nearby modern hospital is still called the Hospital of the Holy Spirit.)
… to celebrate this wedding, Pope Innocent III established that on this day a station should be kept at the venerable hospice of the Holy Spirit, where, as it were, in Cana of Galilee, there is zeal to pass over from the vices to the virtues. And the mother of Jesus is there, since the church of that place is dedicated unto the honor of the most blessed Virgin Mary.
“Her son Jesus is invited with His disciples to this wedding”, since the image of Jesus Christ, which is called the facecloth, or “the Veronica” in the vernacular, is shown on this day to the faithful who come together there to celebrate this marriage of holiness and mercy, by the command of the same lord pope Innocent and the cardinals.
The main building of the Hospital of the Holy Spirit, which was rebuilt by a Pope Sixtus IV (1471-84) to prepare Rome for the Jubilee of 1475, after the prior structure was badly damaged by a fire. This engraving was made ca. 1690. (Public domain image from Wikimedia Commons.)
The Second Sunday after Epiphany is one of my favorite “green” Sundays of the year. The Church catches her breath after the grand merrymaking of Christmastide, but she continues the trajectory of Epiphany by contemplating the different ways in which Christ manifested (epiphainein) His divinity. After the epiphany to the Magi, the next stop is the epiphany of Christ’s divine glory during His first public miracle at the Wedding of Cana. In Drinking with the Saints, I recommend going to your wine rack or cellar and pulling out your best bottle of wine for Sunday dinner, because if you are anything like my wife and me, you have been saving such a bottle for a special occasion but you keep forgetting about it, and by the time you remember to use it, it has turned. By drinking it now, you pay homage to Christ’s making wine so fine that it even impressed the local sommelier (as we imagine the steward in the story to be).
The orations for this Sunday offer sober sentiments that mix well with this miracle. The Collect is the following:
Omnípotens sempiterne Deus, qui caelestia simul et terréna moderáris: supplicatiónes pópuli tui clementer exaudi; et pacem tuam nostris concéde tempóribus. Per Dóminum.
Which I translate as:
Almighty and everlasting God, who dost moderate things in heaven as well as on earth, mercifully hear the supplications of Thy people, and grant us Thy peace in our times. Through our Lord.
The use of “supplication” (a public petition) and “in our times” suggests that the peace being sought is a public peace. [1] Hence the Collect carries forth the Christmas theme of peace on earth and our New Year’s wish for a peaceful civic year, but reminds us that the peace we desire can only come from God. “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, do I give unto you.” (John 14, 27) The theme of peace also anticipates the Epistle reading (Rom. 12, 6-16), which portrays the Church in all her ministries united and at peace with herself.
But the Collect also subtly pairs well with the Gospel, for Jesus’ transubstantiation of water into wine proves that He too, like His heavenly Father, moderates and has power over the things of heaven and earth. And the use of the verb to moderate or regulate (moderari) calls to mind the virtue of moderation, a most important habit to have where wine is concerned: “Wine was created from the beginning to make men joyful, and not to make them drunk,” writes the divinely inspired Sirach. “Wine drunken with moderation is the joy of the soul and the heart.” [Ecclesiasticus (Sirach) 31, 35-36]
The Secret for this Sunday is:
Obláta, Dómine, múnera sanctífica: nosque a peccatórum nostrórum máculis emunda. Per Dóminum.
Which I translate as:
Sanctify, O Lord, the offerings, and cleanse us from the stains of our sins. Through our Lord.
The succinct wording mirrors the Secret for the third Mass of Christmas, and thus faintly reconnects us to the Christmas season. And the plea for cleansing forms a subtle contrast with the water in the six stone vases that the Jews used for purification and that Jesus used to make wine. But whereas the Jewish purification only concerned ritual impurity, the Secret prays for purification from moral stain.
Finally, the Postcommunion is:
Augeátur in nobis, quáesumus, Dómine, tuae virtútis operatio: ut divínis vegetáti sacramentis, ad eórum promissa capienda, tuo múnere praeparémur. Per Dóminum.
Which I translate as:
May the operation of Thy power be increased within us, we beseech Thee, O Lord: that being quickened by Thy divine sacraments, we may by this gift of Thine be ready to take possession of that which they promise. Through our Lord.
The Collect contains an image of restraint (God moderating or regulating the things of heaven and earth), but the Postcommunion contains images of acceleration: an increase of power and a quickening of soul. Intentionally or not, the prayer again forms an interesting contrast with the Gospel reading. An increase of physical inebriation leads not to a quickening but a slowing (a decline in motor control and mental alacrity), and it generally renders a person less ready to take possession of something promised. Being filled with the Holy Spirit instead of spirits, however, vivifies and delivers. Even though the lay communicant receives Holy Communion only under the species of bread in the traditional Roman Rite, he should meditate here on the inebriating Precious Blood that is present in the “divine sacraments” he has just received. For if water-made-wine cheers the heart of man (Psalm 103, 15), how much more does water-and-wine-made-the-Blood-of-Christ.
Notes
[1] Sr. Mary Gonzaga Haessly, Rhetoric in the Sunday Collects of the Roman Missal (Ursuline College for Women, 1938), 34.
