"Woman," He says to her at Cana, " Woman, what is there between Me, the miracle-worker, and thee? " Yet when she pointed to the bystanders unconscious of His divinity and bade them do His bidding, He, for their sake, not hers, changed the water into wine. Not once thereafter was she present at a miracle; not once did He appear to her after the Resurrection. Why? Because she needed it not; her faith was perfect. Again, did you ever reflect why Christ's humanity is always brought out in the strongest, most human, aspect on the occasion of His greatest miracles? The star shines and the angels visibly and audibly hover over Bethlehem, but within is a helpless, poverty-stricken child. Angels guard Him, and yet He flees for His life into Egypt. He astonishes the doctors in the Temple, yet He goes down to Nazareth with the carpenter and his wife and is subject to them. The Father proclaims " Thou art My beloved Son" over a village stripling seeking the baptism of John. He is tempted by Satan, and angels minister to Him. Now He is asleep for very weariness and yet He stills the storm at sea; now He is hungry but marvellously feeds five thousand; now He ministers as a slave and institutes the Holy Eucharist. Again, His enemies fall before Him, but lead Him away captive. Again, Nature trembles and the dead rise at His cry, but He dies of pain and thirst on the cross. Ah, how careful He was never to do violence to man's freedom! How quick always, and especially in the moments of greatest exaltation, to present some phase of His personality
