John 2:1-11
“Water, then Wine”
January 16, 2022
Go ahead, spend some time with John’s Gospel.
If you come away scratching your head and wondering if you really get it, please know that you are in the company of many scholars and students of the Bible, who have been equally puzzled by John’s take on Jesus for 2,000 years.
This one is so different from the three other Gospels.
In the other three, Jesus wants to keep his identity quiet while here in John he is constantly talking about himself.
Jesus’ teaching mostly happens with parables in the other three while in John we hear a lot of long speeches from him.
The Last Supper in Mark, Matthew and Luke all involve Jesus’ blessing and passing bread and wine to his disciples while John’s Jesus uses that night to wash their feet.
As we dive into Jesus’ ministry in this Epiphany season to get a feel for who he is we start with a fairly strange first miracle.
Jesus, with nudging from his mother, his first teacher, who had a sense of what he was capable of, quietly and without any fanfare took not just one but six huge stone jars filled with water that would have been used for purification and transformed them into almost 150 gallons of wine.
This sign pointing to God, the first one of Jesus’ transforming power, before he started teaching or offering a single healing touch is his debut –
and it’s at a wedding reception.
His mother, the disciples, some servants and the guy in charge of making sure there’s enough wine discover not just that there’s enough to get by but that what is served late in the party is the good stuff.
And this is probably after many of the guests have had quite a bit to drink already and wouldn’t be able to taste the difference.
Perhaps Jesus wanted folks to know that it is never too late for change.
Let’s remember just how important hospitality was during Jesus’ time.
This Mediterranean culture viewed hospitality as not just being polite but was a matter of survival.
It was vital to tend to the needs of others because in turn that would mean that one’s own needs would also be seen to.
The transformation of water to wine involved the efforts of other people – those who lugged in the stone jars filled with water got the chance to be a part of the miracle.
They got to see firsthand the abundance that Jesus was offering while they did much of the heavy lifting.
The wine steward is totally baffled by how the best wine, usually served when everyone was sober and could tell the difference, gives credit to the groom who gets to seem like this amazing host.
And yet Jesus is behind this wonder.
What moved Jesus here in this strange Gospel story?
Was it his mother Mary urging him to action, prodding him to obey and open himself up to others?
Was he being a dutiful son or was it more?
And what was Jesus holding back and waiting for?
Why not now?
Maybe he wanted to make a more dramatic impact because, after all, this is not feeding the five thousand or healing the ten lepers.
Most of the rest of the time when Jesus performs signs throughout the Gospel, he has something transformative to say that captures his identity.
After he fed the hungry masses he proclaimed, “I am the bread of life.”
When he was about to heal the man who was blind from birth he said, “I am the light of the world.”
What could he say about this sign?
“I am the life of the party?”
Let’s, though, not lose sight of the reason we devote a Sunday to this story.
It’s a miracle offered by Jesus.
I’d venture to say that I’m not the only one today who has ever prayed for a miracle.
Praying for a miracle cure or a miracle job or a miracle solution to a seemingly impossible situation.
And then there are the times we may have experienced a miracle and maybe were even hesitant to talk about it for fear of being poo-pooed or laughed at.
And there are those who do not believe that there is such a thing as a miracle and that everything can be explained using data or logic or science.
Barbara Brown Taylor talks about a colleague who explained miracles this way:
“The only purpose of a miracle is to remind you that you don’t know how things work.”
She goes on to ask, “Do you believe in miracles?” and then answers, “You still don’t know how they work.”
Or “Do you not believe in miracles?” Well then, “Maybe you don’t know how things work.” (Always a Guest, 208)
Much attention has been given to miracles – those who embrace them and those who write them off as so much hooey.
What is equally fascinating as the miracle of water becoming wine is the role of Jesus’ mother Mary in this story and maybe that’s because she, unlike Jesus, is fully human just like you and me.
Like many a mother, Mary doesn’t ask a question but rather states a fact, “They have no wine.”
She doesn’t plead with him but only lays out the issue and waits for Jesus’ response.
He responds with what business is this of his and any way this isn’t the right time for him to do something about it anyway.
This is not a life and death situation.
So what if the groom will be embarrassed?
Jesus is not ready for all eyes to be on him.
But then Mary lays the power back in Jesus’ lap when she instructs the servants to do whatever he says.
And it could go either way.
She is trusting him to do the right thing, whatever that may be.
And maybe this is more of the miracle, as any of us parents know from giving a choice to our child.
Jesus doesn’t want to do it, the timing is off, and yet he goes ahead and does it, giving a jumpstart to his ministry before he’s ready.
And his gentle prodding mother, and the amazed wine steward and the modest water haulers, and the face-saved groom are all part of the story.
And now, for having heard it, we are, too.
In our belief and doubt, hear then these words from Unfolding Light:
You could argue
about where
it came from,
how
he might have pulled it off,
if
it really happened
or is John’s artful opening
to a series of signs,
if
it’s a real miracle
or a metaphor for something
in your own life
and if so
of what, or
what it means
to believe,
and argue about whether
all or many or only one
of these is correct,
and in fact you could be correct, or.
or
you could
taste the wine.
Amen.