The Guest List - Cana of Galilee

The Guest List - Cana of Galilee

They have no wine, Mary said to her son
What is that to Me, He said.
My hour has not yet come
(His public life had not begun.)
The wedding host had run out of wine
He was pale as the wounded dead,
They have no wine, Mary said to her son
What is that to Me, He said.

The Mediterranean sun grew hot as it kissed
All but the host on the wedding list
In throngs they danced and they sang their songs
They cancelled their rights and their wrongs.
But the wedding host had run out of wine
And his eyes were wild with dread
They have no wine, Mary said to her Son
What is that to Me, Christ said.

She didn't take no, for an answer
'Do whatever He tells you', she said,
'Do whatever He tells you', she told the steward
And his eyes were wild with dread
As dazed he gazed at the empty jars
And the dancers danced and the singers sang.
And the night grew dark with stars.

I wasn't on the guest list,
But I watched from across the room
As the singers sang, and the dancers danced,
And the Bride kissed the Groom.
And I heard her words, Mary's words
How they split the gloom.
I watched it all from a distance, in antiquity.
And the music slowly burned itself into my memory.

She didn't take no, for an answer,
'Do whatever He tells you', she said
'Do whatever He tells you', she told the steward,
He was pale as the wounded dead,
As with water he filled the jars,
The empty cistern jars,
And the dancers danced at the wedding feast,
And the night grew dark with stars.

When the music ceased at the wedding feast
A hush fell on the crowd,
One man spoke for all of them,
When he spoke their thought aloud,
To slake the thirst for the noble grape
The best wine first, for Heaven’s sake,
Why serve the best wine last?
In wonderment He asked.

The music started up again
And swept them all away
But I treasured Mary’s words in my heart
And what I heard her say.
As I watched in awe at what I saw at Cana of Galilee
And I slipped away to wonder by the Mediterranean Sea
I watched it all from a distance
There in antiquity.

In moments of dread I hear her in modernity
Quietly, the gentle-strong voice of Mother Mary
In moments of terror I hear her
When the market is very tough,
When it’s gold and harsh and cruel in the North,
When there simply isn’t enough.
I do whatever He tells me,
Like the steward in antiquity.

And I’m strong as a song,
And Life is a feast
Faith is given a fighting chance at least
The water changes to fine old wine
A vintage of ageless gold
Just as it was-in vino veritas
I remember the words of Mary
In the little town of old.

I watch as the water of cruel circumstance
Changes to fine old wine
In the fire of an inner spark divine,
My spirit begins to dance and shine.
Just as it did in the little town of Cana of Galilee,
In the heat of the sun
And the night of stars
By the Mediterranean Sea.

....

Words & Music by: Anne Marie Wyse-Murray
Voice & Piano by: Anne Marie Wyse-Murray

© 2002


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