Wine for the Jar

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My spiritual wine jar at the moment is full to the brim. It was down to the dregs before last weekend, when the Spirit began to pour out unexpected graces from every direction. Unexpected and undeserved, for I have been neglecting my prayer life. I would like to blame the two books of daily reflections that I have chosen for this year, which have seemed to provide more dross than solid ore, but a more honest assessment would be that my soul for some reason has chosen to cower behind a locked door for fear of encountering the risen Lord.  In that condition the soul offers nothing but barren ground to even the most profound reflection.

Yet the Spirit is patient, and finds many ways to work. Months ago, after I wrote about wandering in a desert of desolation, a lovely couple who read the column sent a copy of Saint Francis de Sales’ “Consoling Thoughts: On Trials of an Interior Life.” When it arrived I took a quick glance through it, then set it aside because I was busy with other things. Last week I picked it up again, and this quote snagged my soul: “We wish only for honey in the service of God, and do not look to Jesus prostrate on the earth, sweating blood through the effect of his interior desolation.”

Yes, even during Lent I was complaining that I had no sweetness in my service to God, and refused to shift my gaze to Jesus in agony in the garden, while carrying the cross, while dying for my sins.

Humbled, my soul cracked open the door and peeked out, just in time to meet with the solidarity of Catholic sisterhood that is the Diocesan Council of Catholic Women’s annual convention. There I received a warm welcome that made me realize I am not the only one seeking wisdom and companionship on this pilgrimage toward the Kingdom. We laughed, we learned, and I had a wonderful experience with this faith we profess. Prior to that weekend I had been feeling very much like a lone pea rattling in an empty pod, but after joining those at the convention, I realized that I am but one of hundreds of Catholic women in Utah, and all I need do is reach out to one to be reassured that I am in fertile ground, not the dry desert.

One reason for my spiritual dryness may be that I finally have completed my master’s degree in theology – the diploma arrived on Good Friday. In time all the knowledge I have gained from my studies over the past three years may bear fruit, but for now I just feel spent from the effort. Nevertheless, word of my accomplishment got around at the convention, and the numerous congratulations that I received offered plenty of refreshment for my weariness. They also reassured me that the work has been worth it.

Then came the speaker, Marge Steinhage Fenelon, who spoke about the Virgin Mary as a model for living our faith. She offered the image of a spiritual wine jar: In discussing the significant events of the Blessed Mother’s life, Fenelon mentioned that during the Wedding at Cana Mary was the one who sought to help alleviate the distress the married couple must have felt at the wine running out. It was Mary, not her son, who took the first step toward solving the problem. Of course, Mary turned to Jesus for help. His initial response was less than encouraging – “Woman, what does this have to do with me?” – but like every mother who knows she’s in the right, Mary persisted. Jesus acquiesced, and there was wine where before there was only water.

Encouraging those of us at the conference to pray to Mary, Fenelon suggested these words: “Mary, I have no wine.” This is a perfect encapsulation of how I feel in desolation – my world is depending on me to provide for the festivities, but I have run out and have no way of replenishing the fare. I must, then, remember to turn to the source of all good things, and what better way to do that than to plead to the mother who hears to our prayer, and the woman to whom her Son listens?

For today, though, my words are these: Thank you, Mary. I have received wine. Come, let us raise a cup together in praise and thanksgiving. Amen. Alleluia.

Marie Mischel is editor of the Intermountain Catholic. She can be reached at marie@icatholic.org.