Instruments of Peace at the Wine-Press of Life

Editor’s note: The following is Bishop Lucia’s homily from the 2026 Women’s Conference Mass held Oct. 24 at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ, again, welcome. We gather today under a beautiful, challenging theme: “Make me an instrument of your peace.” I would propose that this famous prayer, attributed to St. Francis, is easy to sing but radically difficult to live. What does it actually mean for you and me to be an instrument of peace today?

We find our answer in a surprising intersection: a chaotic wedding feast in Galilee, a radical friar from Assisi, and a hidden peasant girl from Lourdes. Today, the Gospel of the Wedding at Cana shows us the blueprint for peace, while St. Francis and St. Bernadette show us how to live it out.

1. The Disruption of Peace: “They Have No Wine”

Think of the scene at Cana. The simple phrase, “They have no wine,” is a disruption of the hoped for peace and bliss of a wedding day. A wedding is supposed to be a place of pure joy, but a hidden crisis strikes: the wine runs out. In first-century Jewish culture, this wasn’t just an embarrassing hiccup; it was a devastating social humiliation that would shadow this new couple and their families for years.

My sisters and brothers, do we have our own unexpected dry seasons or moments in life today? How often does the “wine” run out in our own lives? The wine of patience in our homes, the wine of joy in our marriages, the wine of energy in our ministries, or the wine of mental peace in our anxious world.

When peace in life is disrupted, our human instinct is to panic, blame, or try to fix it through sheer control. But in our Gospel reading, our mother Mary models a different way. She doesn’t cause a scene. She takes the empty space directly to Jesus!

2. St. Francis: Becoming Empty Instruments

This is where St. Francis enters our story. To be an instrument of peace, an instrument must first be empty. A trumpet or other brass instruments or woodwinds cannot play music if they are clogged with debris.

At Cana, Jesus didn’t create wine out of nothing; He used six stone water jars, meant for ceremonial washing. They had to be emptied of their old water and filled to the brim with new water.

When St. Francis responded to God’s call in his life to leave all things and follow him with the task of rebuilding His Church, Francis famously stripped himself of his wealth, his status, and his need for worldly approval. He emptied his “jar.” He realized that we cannot bring peace to others if our own hearts are cluttered with resentment, pride, or the suffocating need to be perfect.

Today, those gathered will have the opportunity to empty their jars through the Sacrament of Penance, or even before that, here and now as we offer ourselves to God in the Eucharistic sacrifice — where Christ’s blood is shed for the many, for the forgiveness of sins.

Sisters and brothers, St. Francis teaches us that a peacemaker doesn’t dominate a room; she or he empties oneself so that God can fill them. When we let go of our need to control the outcome and heed Mary’s instruction to “do whatever He tells you,” Christ fills our stone jars to the brim with the choicest of wines … the choicest of blessings.

3. St. Bernadette: “Do Whatever He Tells You”

Brothers and sisters, if Francis shows us the emptiness required of an instrument, St. Bernadette shows us the radical obedience of the instrument … of what it means to truly listen to God in our lives. Again, at Cana, Mary gives the servants the ultimate instruction manual for peace: “Do whatever He tells you.”

Imagine being one of those servants at the wedding feast. The hosts of the feast need wine, and this carpenter tells you to pour water into massive, heavy stone jars. It made no sense. It looked like foolishness.

Centuries later at Lourdes, the Blessed Mother told young Bernadette to dig in the dirt with her bare hands and drink the muddy water. The crowds mocked her. She looked foolish. But Bernadette obeyed blindly, out of pure love. Within hours, that muddy puddle became a crystal-clear spring of healing water that still flows today.

Sisters and brothers, Bernadette reminds us that being an instrument of peace requires doing what Jesus asks, even when it defies worldly logic — especially in this Sunday’s liturgy when you and I are told that the greatest thing we can do — the heart of the matter — is to love God and to love neighbor. It means choosing to forgive when we want to hold a grudge. It means choosing silence when we want to snap back. It means digging through the dirt of our daily trials because we trust a spring of grace is underneath.

4. The Miracle: Joy Restored

When the servants obeyed, the water became wine — and not just any wine, but the best wine, kept for last. Sisters and brothers, this is the final lesson of the Wedding at Cana and of the witness of St. Francis and St. Bernadette: Peace is not the absence of conflict; it is the presence of Christ in the midst of our scarcity. You and I do not have to manufacture peace on our own. We are not the source of the wine; we are simply the servants carrying the jars. We are simply the instruments.

Yet, sisters and brothers, peace in our hearts, our homes, our Church and our world is also a call to listen to one another so we can better accompany one another on the pilgrimage of life … of faith. There is such a fear among some in the Church of the word, “synodal.” Some see it as the enemy of the Catholic Church, when in its essence, it is all about becoming the stone water jar … the emptying of self so that we can truly hear one another and allow the Holy Spirit to renew not only the Church, but the face of the earth! Think about it — how much do you and I talk at each other rather than with each other?

Conclusion

As we approach the altar today, let us look at the gifts of bread and wine. They are simple, ordinary things that will become the extraordinary presence of God.

Let us bring our empty jars to this Mass. Bring the areas of our lives where the wine has run out. Let us turn to our mother Mary and hear her whisper, “Do whatever He tells you.” Turn to Francis and Bernadette and ask for the courage to be empty, humble, and obedient.

When you leave this conference, you will go back to a world running desperately short on peace. But I pray you will go back filled to the brim with the best wine, ready to pour His peace into every broken heart you meet.

St. Francis of Assisi, pray for us.
St. Bernadette of Lourdes, pray for us.
Our Lady of Cana, pray for us.
Amen.