sola gratia

Growing up, I had a very close relationship with the son of one of my sisters.  Frankly, we were more like brothers than uncle and nephew.  And part of this, I'm sure, was because there were only four years between our ages.  Still, me being older, I was typically "in charge" in the games we'd play, usually assuming a leadership role of sorts. For instance, when we pretended we were Ghostbusters, I was always Peter Venkman; my nephew was always Egon Spengler.  When we got older, and imagined we were Chicago Bulls, he was always the Scottie Pippen to my Michael Jordan.  But perhaps the way in which I exerted my leadership most came when we played Super Mario Bros.; I was, without fail, Mario.  For those who remember the original Nintendo console, you know how big a deal that is: the person playing as Mario essentially controlled the game as the only one who could pause or restart it.  (I admittedly used this ability to my nephew's detriment on more th...

In a letter written toward the end of the eighteenth century, Benjamin Franklin affirmed that wine is "a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy."  Aficionados of the fruit of the vine would likely concur.  What's often missed, however, are scriptural bases for a statement such as Franklin's. This week we'll be two Sundays removed from the Epiphany, and the gospel text from St. John is the story of the wedding in Cana: the one which features Jesus' miraculous transformation of water into wine.  A well-known tale, even to those who are barely familiar with Christian tradition, it's typically considered Jesus' first miracle (though only the fourth gospel includes the story). And it happens something like this: Jesus, his mother, and his disciples are all invited to a wedding.  Details about whose wedding this was aren't included.  But it was probably a pretty big celebration, as weddings in that time tended to be, with the fes...