Hope unending

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, ‘They have no wine.’ And Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come’ (John 2:1-4).

So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull (John 19:17).

The time draws near. And Jesus knows, the hour for which he was born has come.

Long before and many times, he spoke of this hour in John’s gospel, starting with the day he turned water into wine at a wedding, pleasing his mother and the thirsty crowd. But this was not the hour on which hinges all hope and history.

That comes only now, as Jesus carries his cross to the place of execution. The meaning of his entire existence rests on whether he can embrace and endure this hour or whether he will recoil from the bitter brutality and pain to come.

Will he love and love to the end, or will the cruelty that kills him also kill the love that is in him, the Love he is?

All creation holds its breath. For if the hour of bitterness kills his love, then the hope of the ages is gone. If his love does not prevail, then darkness not light, death not life, despair not love is the final word over us and all that is, and all we know, all we are and all we love ends in the dust of the grave.

But, we are not a people without hope. We know … hope is never lost.

For he who turned water into wine transforms bitterness into a radiant beauty beyond any the world shall ever see. He is love and light and life and love, lifting us from every death we shall ever die

Pr. David L. Miller

We adore, O Christ, and we bless you.

By you holy cross you have redeemed the world