Monday, January 28, 2013

Wedding Wine (Second Sunday after Epiphany)

John 2:1-11
1 On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. 2 Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. 3 When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine." 4 And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come." 5 His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you." 6 Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. 7 Jesus said to them, "Fill the jars with water." And they filled them up to the brim. 8 He said to them, "Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward." So they took it. 9 When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom 10 and said to him, "Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now." 11 Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.

            Chuck Rickman was taking his usual six-mile walk around Downtown San Diego last week when he spotted something a bit unusual. He was so struck by what he saw that he did what a lot of people do these days when they see something strange while walking down the street—he pulled out his cell phone and snapped a picture of it. He showed several of his friends the picture he had taken, and they all seemed to agree: there, in a steam-fogged window of a room in the Hard Rock Hotel of San Diego’s Gaslamp district, was the divine image of Jesus. While others have seen different images in the abstract window, Rickman is convinced it’s Jesus.[1]
            Some 2,300 miles east of San Diego, in Spartanburg, South Carolina, the small congregation at Care Baptist Church says they see Jesus every time they worship in their sanctuary—but they don’t mean that the way you might think they mean it. There in the sanctuary, to the left of the pulpit, is a door. Just a door like any other, except that in the wood grain pattern on the door parishioners swear they see the image of Jesus, hands folded in prayer, and (depending on who you ask) either surrounded by flowing robes, clouds, or a heavenly stairway leading on into eternity. Steve Wyatt, who attends Care Baptist, took this appearance of Christ’s image as a sign, so he contacted the local paper to get the word out. “God wanted me to get this out so people would come see it,” he said. “And if people come here to see the door, they might find God while they are here.”[2]
            Chuck Rickman and Steve Wyatt are not unique when it comes to seeing holy images in strange places. People see them all over the world in everything from grilled tortillas to stale Cheetos and rust stains on car fenders. In fact, in 2004 the online casino GoldenPalace.com placed the winning bid on eBay for a ten-year old, grilled cheese sandwich which bore the image of Jesus’ mother, Mary. Their winning bid, by the way, was $28,000![3] All this begs the question: why is Jesus (and his mother) always showing his face in these unusual places?! It may seem silly, but to someone who is listening for a word from God, seeking direction in life, or simply wanting some affirmation of something out there greater than him or herself, an apparent appearing of Christ’s face in something as mundane as a mustard stain can be a sign—a revelation of something greater. And who among us hasn’t, at some point in our lives, searched for a sign from God?
            In the first century people were looking for signs from God too. They were looking for signs in the heavens: remember the Magi, how they saw the star signaling the birth of a new King of the Jews? They were searching for signs in the Scriptures: passages like Joel 3:18 and Amos 9:13 spoke of the coming day of the Lord when there would be such abundance that the mountains would drip with sweet wine and the hills would flow with wine and milk. And of course there was that ever-present feeling that permeates all of human history, the feeling that something big was just around the corner: it’s that same sort of feeling that causes televangelists to proclaim the Lord’s return in their lifetime and it’s that same feeling that causes the masses to look to the Mayan calendar to predict the end of the world. Yes, the people of the first century were looking, waiting for a sign from God to signal the beginning of something new—a new age, the age of the Messiah. In this atmosphere of anticipation, people still went on with their lives and the usual events that mark the passing of time, events like weddings. And that’s where we find ourselves today, at a wedding in Cana.        
            The first two verses of our text today tell us, “On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding.” Now, a wedding in first century Cana was not what we might consider a run-of-the-mill afternoon event with flowers, cake, dancing, and punch. Oh no! A wedding in Cana would last at least a week, with people coming and going, food enough for a small army, wine that flowed freely, and even separate spaces for the bride and her party and the bridegroom and his party. Needless to say, a wedding in Cana was a party to which you hoped you were invited. This particular wedding in Cana may have been the wedding of a relative of Jesus’ mother (who is never named in John’s gospel), and Jesus and his newly gathered group of disciples were invited out of custom.[4] Now, one of the things that most every wedding seems to have in common is the fact that something is going to go wrong. Whether it’s an issue with the weather, a sick groomsman, or a photographer who forgot to load the camera with film, something is bound to disrupt the flow of hoped-for perfection. At this particular wedding, it was a wine shortage.
            In verse 3 we hear the panicked news: “When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, ‘They have no wine.’" This may sound like something trivial, but this would have been a great social faux pas since the host of the wedding was supposed to make sure that every guest had plenty to eat and drink,[5] and since Mary may have been a relative, she certainly didn’t want to bring any shame on her kinfolk. She turns to her oldest son, perhaps since she is now a widow, but Jesus’ words seem unnecessarily distant: "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come." Perhaps Mary thought Jesus would run down to the grocery store with his new friends and save the wedding from the impending catering crisis, or maybe she just wanted to let him know so he and his disciples would take it easy on the drink so there’d be more to go around. Either way, Jesus doesn’t seem to think the wine shortage is worth his worrying. Mary, however, has a mother’s intuition, so she says to the servants in verse 5, "Do whatever he tells you."
            Now, in the middle of this ordinary, cultural event, there is an ordinary, expected problem. Despite his initial protest, Jesus takes action to remedy the problem before it has a chance to come to light. Jesus said to the servants in verse 7, "Fill the jars with water." (these large, stone jars set aside for ritual purification) And they filled them up to the brim—to the very top, between all six of the jars about 120 and 180 gallons. Then, “he said to them” in verse 8, "Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward,” and they took it to him. The gospel writer doesn’t tell us how Jesus did it: there’s no mention of any words spoken, no laying on of hands, no prayer offered. The servants fill the jars, draw a bit out, and upon taking it to the chief steward we all find out that in fact the water has been turned into wine—and not just any wine, the best wine! In fact, the steward is so impressed that he “called the bridegroom and said to him, ‘Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.’" He gave credit to the bridegroom (and perhaps his caterer)! In fact, no one aside from the servants knew what had happened, but verse 11 tells us, “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” Jesus did it—he turned the water from the ceremonial jars into the best wine at the banquet. What a miracle! What a sign!
            That’s what the fourth gospel calls Jesus’ miracles—signs. People were watching, waiting, and hoping for a sign from God, some indication that the messianic age may be close, some signal that the Day of the Lord might be near. Then Jesus does this, the first of his signs, at a wedding in Cana, where only a few servants know what happened and only the few disciples he’s gathered believe in him. Isn’t that strange? The first sign signaling the Messiah’s arrival, the presence of God’s kingdom, happens in the all-too common event of a first-century Jewish wedding. The sky doesn’t split open. The sun’s light isn’t extinguished. There’s no earthquake, not even an appearance of a divine image in a grilled cheese sandwich! The first sign happens in a surprisingly reserved and quiet way, and only a few come away believing in the one who made it happen.
            But isn’t that how God works? We shout to the heavens in the midst of life’s deepest grief for God to give us a sign, something to prove we’re not alone, only to hear a deafeningly silent response. Then, when we least expect it, when no one else is paying attention, God gives us a sign. It could be something that happens in the midst of the ordinary rhythms of life, a divine wink that tells us we are not alone, a whisper on the wind that brings us comfort when we least expect that we most need it. God may not give us a sign when we want it, and he may not give us a sign that way we want it, but if we’re really listening, really tuning our hearts and our ears to the Spirit’s presence among us, we just might catch it—a sign from God.
            God speaks to us in the midst of the ordinary. Christ shows himself to us as we go about our lives and those events that mark the passing of time. Yet too often we look for some earth-shattering proof of God’s divine presence; we demand signs that prove unequivocally that God is real and hears us when we call. May we hear this story of the wedding in Cana, the story of the wedding wine, and see that Christ reveals himself to us even in the midst of the regular rhythms of life. May we who are looking for a sign from God see it even now, in this place, as we are gathered together for worship. May Christ reveal himself to you in the midst of the gathered people of God, and may we all be attentive to how God gives us signs of his presence in the everyday events of our lives.
Let us pray…

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