For today’s homily, we are blessed to have a visual aid: our new window.

What’s illustrated here in our new stained glass is what might be called "the crucial moment of the wedding at Cana." In today’s Gospel text from John 2, the apostle recounts the events which immediately preceded this moment: the wine ran out; Mary interceded with Jesus on behalf of the newly married couple by telling our Lord, "They have no wine;" she instructed the stewards to obey Jesus—she said, "Do whatever he tells you;" our Lord commanded the stewards to fill six jars with water, and then he asked them to take the liquid to the head steward.

Which brings us to the so-called "crucial moment:" when the head steward tasted the water which had been changed into wine. This was the crucial moment because it was the moment of interpretation. You see, when that steward touched the wine to his lips, his fellow stewards were forced to interpret the event. They had to ask themselves the crucial, decisive question: Is this a miracle, or not? Is the existence of this wine an indication that Jesus of Nazareth has divine, supernatural power at his disposal, or is there some other explanation for what just happened?

We can figure out the answer they gave by what St. John tells us in verse 11 (which is the last line of the story). He writes, "Jesus did this as the beginning of his signs at Cana in Galilee and so revealed his glory, and his disciples began to believe in him." The disciples believed (and, of course, Mary believed because she initiated the miracle by going to Jesus in the first place); but the stewards, apparently, did not!—even though they were the ones who had filled the jars with water, and brought the new wine to the head steward! This we can discern from St. John’s silence on the matter. If they had believed, he certainly would have mentioned it.

Did they think it was magic, or some other type of human trickery?

We don’t know, because it seems they didn’t say anything to anybody! They certainly didn’t say anything to the head steward, because St. John tells us that immediately after he tasted the water-turned-into-wine he went to the bridegroom to commend him for saving the best wine for the end of the feast. He wouldn’t have done that, if his fellow stewards had told him the whole story. He would have known that this was new wine.

So, why didn’t they believe?

Probably for the very same reasons people today don’t believe, or have a weak faith: fear and/or doubt!

Fear and doubt always have been—and always will be—the two great enemies of faith. And this is probably the way it was for the stewards. Maybe they doubted that what they saw was real. They knew, of course, what they thought they saw—but maybe their eyes had played some kind of trick on them. Maybe this Jesus was an extremely clever magician.

Or perhaps they were afraid of what others would say about them if they did broadcast the story. They may have been worried that their friends and relatives would call them crazy or foolish or gullible—or all of the above!

Can you relate?

You see, these are the very same forces—fear and doubt—that threaten our faith every day, and keep us from living the full, Catholic Christian life God calls us to live.

We can become fearful, for example, of what the people at work will call us, if we let them know that we’re trying to take our Catholic faith seriously: "sanctimonious," "right-wing," "ultra-conservative," "narrow-minded," "rigid," "bigoted," "homophobic," "brainwashed," "fanatical"—or any of the other demonizing labels the world loves to toss at committed Christians these days. Consequently, out of fear of being called these things, we can be tempted to put our "light" under a bushel basket.

Or we may simply doubt some of the basic tenets of our Catholic faith: the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Holy Eucharist; the necessity of the sacrament of Penance for the forgiveness of serious sins committed after Baptism; the God-given authority of the Holy Father; the moral teaching of the Church (especially on certain issues of sexual morality), or something else. And some of these doubts may be self-inflicted, in the sense that we don’t believe because we don’t understand, and we haven’t made the effort to increase our understanding by prayer and study.

Which brings me to a final, practical suggestion: If we ever do find ourselves wavering in our faith, we should (among other things) increase our devotion to Mary! That’s a lesson I think we can draw from this story. I’ve speculated in this homily as to why the stewards did not believe in the miracle at Cana. But that doesn’t address the question of why the disciples did believe. Well—aside from the influence of Jesus himself—could it be that Mary had a decisive role in this regard? I think that’s a definite possibility. In fact, it might have been Mary who told the disciples the story in the first place! Remember, the only audience for this miracle had been the disbelieving stewards, and they said nothing to anyone about it. Besides these incredulous stewards and Jesus himself, who else knew what had happened? Only Mary did! So perhaps, through her testimony, the apostles were told the good news of what Jesus had done, and came to believe.

As Mary helped lead the apostles to faith, so she will help us in our weakness by her powerful prayers. And so, for all those in the world today who lack the gift of faith, and for those whose faith is wavering at the present time, we now pray together: