Memorial of Mary, Mother of the Church – Genesis 3:9-15,20; Psalm 87; Acts 1:12-14; John 2:1-11

Dancing, singing, toasts, joy, wedding noise, food being brought to the tables, guests talking to each other, servants passing among them. In the atmosphere filled with convivial atmosphere, you can see embarrassment, the discreet exchange of glances, whispers in the ear, the embarrassment of the servants, a faint streak of shame on the face, concealed fear. . .

Only the Mother’s sensitive eyes can see what is hidden, unnoticeable, non-obvious to others, which seems to be a game of love, a prologue to the drama. Only the sensitive heart of the Mother knows how to discreetly, subtly, even unnoticed by guests, ask for help, rescue and support.

To be the Mother Church with the eyes of a Mother. That is, to see. It’s not just what lies in the streets that catches her eye, the vaunting of poverty, hunger and misery. In fact, she calls out, screams, keeps us from sleeping at night, is the remorse of the conscience and – sometimes – the pain of our helplessness. Seeing what is hidden under the mask of a smile, understatement, wandering eyes, exaggerated showmanship, gallows humour. . .

To be a Mother Church with a Mother’s heart. That is, to act. Without shrugging indifferently, without waiting for others, without hiding behind helplessness, powerlessness, lack of resources and ideas. When someone shouts, “Where are you?”, do not answer, “I hid myself.” Simply: go and bring water, fill the jars, put them on the table. Leaving the rest to Him. He will turn water into wine, and He will reveal His glory and create faith.