Love Attends the Cana Wedding

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Sunday

Today’s Gospel reading, about the marriage in Cana, has led me to a fascinating lyric by Canadian poet Marjorie Pickthall (1883-1922). “The Bridegroom of Cana” tells the story from the point of view of the groom at the wedding, although “bridegroom” points two ways in that Jesus is sometimes called the bridegroom of the church.

It’s a strange poem in that the bridegroom appears to be having, if not second thoughts, at least a sense that consummation will not live up to the anticipation. In the first stanza he wishes his spouse to veil her eyes “lest in their light my life withdrawn/ Dies…as a star in the day,/ As a dream in the dawn.” His mention of two olive leaves “sighing apart” suggests that the reality cannot live up to the dream, and in fact he goes on to say, “Sweet, I have waked from a dream of thee.” Then he proceeds to talk about “the golden lure of this love [growing] dim.” When he says that her “lips are bright as the edge of a sword,” it’s not clear that this is a good thing.

What changes is the presence of Jesus at the wedding. Suddenly (if I am interpreting correctly) something more has entered the marriage ceremony, and that something more is Love. “Love, I looked awhile in His face/ And was still,” the speaker says.

So now, after these early bridegroom jitters, the speaker has a vision of a new foundation for his marriage, described powerfully in the final three stanzas. I particularly like the image of thrushes in a field while a third bird, a lark, pours down music from above: 

Down in the fields the thrushes sing
And the lark is lost in the light above,
Lost in the infinite, glowing whole,
As I in thy soul,
As I in thy soul.

I note, as an aside Percy Shelley’s description of the lark’s music in “To a Skylark”:

Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

In this case, Jesus is that blithe spirit, and the union of higher and lower continues on:

Turn to me, trust to me, mirror me
As the star in the pool, as the cloud in the sea.

And:

Hush my harp, for the day is begun,
And the lifting, shimmering flight of the swallow
Breaks in a curve on the brink of morn,
Over the sycamores, over the corn,
Cling to me, cleave to me, prison me
As the mote in the flame, as the shell in the sea…

Here’s the poem:

The Bridegroom of Cana
By Marjorie Pickthall

“There was a marriage in Cana of Galilee. . . . And both Jesus was called, and His disciples, to the marriage.”

VEIL thine eyes, O belovéd, my spouse,
Turn them away,
Lest in their light my life withdrawn
Dies as a star, as a star in the day,
As a dream in the dawn. 

Slenderly hang the olive leaves
Sighing apart;
The rose and silver doves in the eaves
With a murmur of music bind our house.
Honey and wine in thy words are stored,
Thy lips are bright as the edge of a sword
That hath found my heart,
That hath found my heart. 

Sweet, I have waked from a dream of thee,–
And of Him.
He who came when the songs were done.
From the net of thy smiles my heart went free
And the golden lure of thy love grew dim.
I turned to them asking, “Who is He,
Royal and sad, who comes to the feast
And sits Him down in the place of the least?”
And they said, “He is Jesus, the carpenter’s son.” 

Hear how my harp on a single string
Murmurs of love.
Down in the fields the thrushes sing
And the lark is lost in the light above,
Lost in the infinite, glowing whole,
As I in thy soul,
As I in thy soul. 

Love, I am fain for thy glowing grace
As the pool for the star, as the rain for the rill.
Turn to me, trust to me, mirror me
As the star in the pool, as the cloud in the sea.
Love, I looked awhile in His face
And was still. 

The shaft of the dawn strikes clear and sharp;
Hush, my harp.
Hush my harp, for the day is begun,
And the lifting, shimmering flight of the swallow
Breaks in a curve on the brink of morn,
Over the sycamores, over the corn,
Cling to me, cleave to me, prison me
As the mote in the flame, as the shell in the sea,
For the winds of the dawn say, “Follow, follow
Jesus Bar-Joseph, the carpenter’s son.”

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