Grace upon Grace - August 7
Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; Judges 9:1-16,19-21; Acts 4:13-31; John 2:2-12
“Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee
And revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” -- John 2:11
I’ve made a new friend in San Antonio from my field education parish. This friend was the first person I spent time in deep conversation with during the small group portion of adult formation time. We make a point to say hello every week at church and we’ve even gone out for brunch a few times after church. The last time I saw him was March 8, during the “before times” when we used to go to church. He called me yesterday to share some great news that he’s getting married next month.
The most beautiful thing he said was, “neither of us ever thought we’d get married, and now we’re so happy that we’ll be able to get married in the church.” He said this because they’re gay and what they thought was impossible is now provided. They don’t care about the limited guests, physical distancing, or other restrictions caused by the pandemic because they’re focused on the joy and new life they’re receiving.
Their wedding story is quite different than the wedding scene from John’s gospel reading appointed for today. There is a huge gathering and celebration with a feast. In this context, your honor is at stake by running out of wine, and you might do just as well in the desert with no water. This is an emergency, and Jesus provides by turning the water to wine. It’s a good thing that Jesus provides wine, a physical need in the moment.
Jesus also provides a spiritual need which points to the wine as the sacrament received at Eucharist. It also has even richer depth. This is how the two wedding stories are similar. It reveals God’s glory in Christ as a gracious host, providing spiritual needs of joy, life, and abundance. Out of nothing, Jesus provides superabundantly, grace upon grace. At the Eucharist, I see a story behind every pair of hands receiving communion. Our empty hands reaching for Jesus represent the needs we have that only Christ can provide.
I have another friend who desperately wants to be a mother but has not been able to have children. Another friend who is Black has said that she’s tired of always being perceived as the one who’s underprivileged. I’ve encountered homeless people who are trying to collect money for their daily needs. During my mother’s death and dying, she said she doesn’t want to be defined by her illness or what she can’t do. We all come to communion with empty hands in need of something, and God provides.
My gay friend is getting married in the church. My childless friend is able to “mother” people in ways that give her life meaning and purpose. My Black friend is sharing her lived experience, working for justice, and loving people. One familiar homeless person from the urban area of my field ed parish shares eye contact when receiving communion and lingers at the rail for prayers. My mother learned to adapt to each loss along the way so that she could live fully during her life that remained. Out of our need, God provides superabundantly the joy, life, and grace upon grace, as a generous banquet host.
— Susan Oakes, Seminarian
Susan Oakes is a rising senior at the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas. This summer, she is serving as a seminarian intern at Saint Stephen's, her sponsoring parish for ordination.
Questions for Reflection:
What needs are you feeling lately? What needs do you perceive of those you encounter?
Challenge:
Look for grace upon grace in your own life and those around you, and try to notice God’s unconditional and superabundant love in places that seem empty.