For me, the wedding feast of Cana is a biblical narrative that launched Jesus’ public ministry. It’s a great story, but it never really hit me in the gut.

Until I prayed this Scripture passage using the Spiritual Exercises.

This method, begun by Ignatius of Loyola, encourages readers to immerse themselves in the biblical passage. That means imagining the scene using all the senses: sight, smell, taste and touch. It requires putting myself in the story so that I’m part of the action—not just a passive reader.

The Exercises then requires me to read through the narrative, paying attention to what people say and do. I also have to be aware of my own reactions. At some point, those reactions should become a foundation for a conversation with Jesus, “as one friend speaks to another,” writes Ignatius. Then I just need to listen carefully to Jesus’ response.

Equipped with these instructions, I read the Scripture passage several times and imagined the time of day. It is sunset, with just enough light to brush the olive trees orange.

The wedding is outside, the scent of new grass heralding spring. Music and laughter mingle as people dance and eat and drink. Everyone is celebrating new love and new life together.

In this scene, I am the bride’s best friend. We are sitting at table, reveling in the beauty of the occasion. Then my joy ends as I see my friend’s face. At first, she looks confused, then alarmed and concerned and finally, embarrassed.

“We have run out of wine,” she whispers to me. Just then, a kind woman—her name, I later learn is Mary—comes up to her and tells her not to worry. Her son will take care of the problem. My friend goes off with her as I watch.

Mary exchanges a few words with her son who shakes his head, no. She ignores his response and proceeds to tell the servants to follow his instructions. The son looks at his mother quizzically, as if to say, “Didn’t you hear me? I said, ‘no.’” Mary simply looks back at him. They exchange a glance, and he orders the servants to fill the jugs with water.

Suddenly, the water turns to wine, and the head of feast praises the bride’s husband for his elaborate display of generosity. The best wine is poured into everyone’s glasses and the celebration resumes. My friend is ecstatic, kisses Mary and runs to dance with her family.

I must thank this man. So I walk over to him. His back is to me as I approach.

“I just want to…”

As he hears my voice, he turns and looks at me. How can I describe that look? His eyes take me in—all of me—my strengths, fears, failures, weaknesses, wishes. They affirm me, strengthen me, restore me.

“…follow you,” I say. “I want to follow you.” The words tumble out with my realizing what I’ve said. But I know I do want to follow him, now and forever.

“Come,” he says, his eyes crinkling as he smiles. “My mother, brothers and disciples are going to Capernaum after this. Stay with us.”

As I ponder this passage, I speak to the Lord “as one friend speaks to another.” As we converse, the word “invite” comes to my mind. Then the words “deepen our relationship” percolate.

After a while, I realize that Christ is inviting me to deepen our relationship through Scripture. It’s not a mandate. Just an invitation.

Without a doubt, I’m taking him up on it.