We’ve all seen pictures like this, right? Tricks of the camera that give us pause, then shower delight, then invite further scrutiny. I've always enjoyed optical illusions (remember the "magic eye" trends or Escher's artwork?) because I like examining them to understand better what's happening. This week I have been pondering the power of this kind of examination. It's all about perspective, isn't it? Is the subject of the image here the Eiffel Tower, the joyful little girl, or the dog leaping into the fountain (take a closer look!) It's all about where we choose to focus. This weekend's gospel is the story of the Wedding of Cana. Of course, when I pray with this experience, I am in awe of the miracle, in solidarity with the disciples as they follow Jesus, enchanted by Mary's maternal nudge and quiet trust, and intrigued by the vibrancy of the wedding scene. But today, I am also realizing that for the vast majority of those wedding guests, they had no idea what had happened. They had no idea they were in the presence of the Son of God. They likely did not focus much on this man who had accompanied Mary to the wedding with his strange group of friends. They were likely just enjoying the wedding festivities and fellowship. And that was enough for them. But what was in their midst was so much more than good conversations and good wine.
The question that this reflection poses for me today--and maybe for you, too: when might I have missed out on recognizing the presence of God in my life this recently? Can I shift my focus just a tad to wonder where God might have been working miracles in the background (even if I might never notice them despite the fact that I enjoyed them just as much as the Cana guests enjoyed their wine!) or where he might have quietly acquiesced to his mother's request for him to help in my distress? And can I--can you--with Mary, agree to "do whatever he tells you," noticing a little more carefully not so much how good the wine is but how excellent is the one who prepared it?