Sunday, January 20, 2013

January 20, 2013 - Epiphany 2C



In the name of God- Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
            Well, it’s been a while since I’ve been in this pulpit. Let’s hope that preaching is a bit like riding a bike and that I haven’t forgotten how to do it. Epiphany is one of those forgotten seasons of the Church year. It falls between Christmas and Lent and doesn’t get much attention. And that’s a shame, as the lessons of this season have something to teach us. Epiphany comes from a Greek word, meaning manifestation or appearing. It is the season in which we remember that God was made manifest in the flesh of Jesus of Nazareth. A season in which we recount the stories of the light coming into the darkness of our world. A season where we hope that this light will be found in the dark alleys of our world and in the dark corners of our soul. And if we allow these Epiphany readings to speak to us, they can enlighten our path through the upcoming year.
            This morning we’ll take a look at the first miracle found in the Gospel according to John, the turning of water into wine at the wedding in Cana of Galilee. Actually, “miracle” is the wrong word for it. John actually calls it a sign, not a miracle, and he does so intentionally. If it were a miracle, it would be a nice little story about Jesus the superhero with super powers. And while it would make for an amazing story, it really wouldn’t do much for our souls or our theology. But this is a sign, the turning of the water into wine points us towards a larger truth. And it is that larger truth that is worthy of our Epiphany focus this morning.
            The sign that we see in this wedding story is the transformation that God brings into our lives. Before we race ahead to the act that all wine lovers are drawn to, the turning of water into wine, let’s take a look at the setting. It is no coincidence that Jesus does this first public sign at a wedding. Now if you think weddings these days can get out of hand, what Jesus experienced would have taken it to a whole other level. Weddings in ancient Israel would have typically lasted a week, and they were truly public celebrations. The bridegroom would go through the streets in a parade to meet his bride and then the festivities would begin. The fact that Jesus starts his ministry at this wedding banquet is very incarnational.
            We are in chapter 2 of John, and remember the first chapter is John’s prologue about the Word becoming incarnate, starting with the well known “in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was God, and the Word was with God.” Some scholars suggest that John was writing, in part, against the Gnostic movement. And part of what the Gnostics said was that the body was evil. That the flesh was a prison for the soul and that enjoyment of the body was sinful. In a sense, they were anti-incarnational. They said that things of the flesh are to be avoided. Life is not something to be enjoyed. And we might not go that far, but how many of us have turned into boring adults who have forgotten how to have fun? I know that I’ve been guilty of that from time to time.
            How many of us are so stressed with work, so consumed with financial stress, so plagued by our pasts, that we don’t allow ourselves to enjoy the gift of the present. Many of you have told me that Ellie will teach me things, and you’re right. Though she’s only 2 months old, she’s already taught me about the idols of productivity and prestige. When I hold her, a very simple and incarnational act, life seems to be at its fullest, not when I’m received awards or having an inflated ego. Taking time to actually experience the gift of life is to embrace the reality of the Word becoming flesh.
            So to those Gnostics that were against these sorts of life-affirming experiences, Jesus shows up at a wedding and has a grand time. I don’t know if there was a DJ, I don’t know if there was dancing, but I know that a good time was had by all if they ran out of wine. Jesus begins his ministry at a party. Jesus begins with extravagance. He starts with joy. And remember, this story is a sign, pointing us to something larger and truer than this particular story. The Epiphany lesson is that the coming of God into our world in the person of Jesus is about God’s extravagant love. It ushers in a time of joy. After the water is changed into wine, the head waiter is shocked at the quality of the wine. He expected the cheap stuff since everyone was a few drinks in, but what Jesus provides is the crème de la crème. And so it is. What God provides isn’t simply the basics in Jesus, God gives all of Godself in Jesus. The first sign is that God startles us with the abundant love of taking on our flesh to be with us.
So let us move into exploring the transformation of this passage. And the transformation that we find here begins the way that much transformation does, with a crisis. Because a wedding was a public event, and the whole town of Cana was there, the family’s honor was at stake. A wedding was the one blow-out event of a lifetime. A family would pull out all the stops to make sure that everyone has a great time at the party. So to run out of wine not only would lead to a bad party, but it would have brought shame on the family. It was a crisis.
And before we go any further, it needs to be pointed out that, though it seems that Jesus is rather harsh to his mother, a lot of that is related to issues of translation. That could perhaps be the subject of another sermon, but not this one. But I just want to say, don’t let that trip you up.
And so the water is transformed into wine. The first thing to note is that the text says that the water that was changed was for the Jewish rite of purification. Before eating, the guests would have needed that water to be ritually clean. And Jesus takes that water and turns it into wine. The water which reminded us of our impurity, of our uncleanliness, of our sins, is transformed into the wine of joy and welcome to all. This aspect of the sign points to the fact that all are welcome to join Jesus at the party.
This sign points to the vision of Isaiah. Isaiah says that Israel will have a crown of beauty and a royal diadem in place of its grief and suffering. It will no longer be called Forsaken, or Desolate, but will go by the name Delight and Married. In the way that the bride and groom rejoice over each other, God will rejoice over us. As soon as he tastes it, the waiter knows that this is something grander and bigger than he expected. In Jesus, the old water has passed away in favor of this new, richer, more vibrant wine. In Jesus, a new age is ushered in, so it’s only fitting that this new age of joy and hope starts with a party. So the transformation of water into wine is a sign that the party has started, that the Kingdom of God is open for business. It is a sign that God’s glory abounds all around us.
I realize that mystery is tough for us moderns. Miracles make us raise an eyebrow. And I’m sure there are those of us that can’t help but wonder, “did Jesus really turn that water into wine?” “How else might we explain the sudden emergence of 150 gallons of wine?” You might ask me, “did the transformation really happen?” And I’d have to say, in all honesty, I don’t know. But I know stories of Jesus changing empty beer cans into furniture in a broken home, I know of Jesus turning hatred between bitter enemies into loving reconciliation, I know of stories of burned bridges being rebuilt, of wrongs becoming right. And that’s a miracle enough for me.
This story reminds us that when you invite Jesus to the party, in the way that this family invited him to the wedding banquet, Jesus will accept the invitation, and he will transform you. And this is Good News, but realize that as it has been said “God often comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable,” transformation isn’t always as nice as water becoming wine. If that’s what following Jesus was all about, then I think more people would be Christians instead of joining wine of the month clubs. If inviting Jesus to transform us was an easy process, we’d have less violence in our culture and less greed. The transformation that God will do in our lives is not always easy or as pleasant as getting free wine. Living for the Kingdom of God instead of our own kingdoms of power, prestige, and wealth means transforming the way we live.
I’ll share a bit of confession with you all. In my spare time, I enjoy playing video games. Mostly I play baseball or college football games, but I’ve enjoyed playing such titles as Modern Warfare and Grand Theft Auto. But after the recent surge in violence in our culture, I realized that inviting Jesus to transform me meant that I could no longer participate in those systems. Were those games turning me into a killer? No. Do I have a right to them as an American? Of course. But was I participating in a system that was leading to evil? Yes. And so I’ve given them up. It’s a rather simple example, but inviting Jesus to transform us means that we will need to consider hard how we live our lives. Do we really want to be transformed? If the answer is yes, we might start by taking a look at how we live our lives. What institutions do we participate in by our complicity? What evil is done on our behalf, or so that we can live the life that we desire? This part of the sign points us towards the total transformation of our lives, souls, and world that God calls us towards.
And finally, I’d like to do a little what-if exercise with this text. Jesus, at first, seems to refuse Mary’s plea to help with the situation of being out of wine. We proclaim that Jesus was both fully-human and fully-divine, maybe at first the human side won out. Whatever the reason was, Jesus was hesitant to do anything. Jesus was having a good time, and he was interrupted. He was distracted with the crisis. And his first reaction is one we all know- “it’s not my problem, let me enjoy what I’m doing.” A spiritual writer once said that he was annoyed with all the interruptions to his ministry, people calling or coming by the office. Then he realized that his ministry wasn’t his to-do list, it was the interruptions. In the interruptions, God breaks through the busyness of our lives.
The sign in this part of the story is that we live in God’s history. Everything we do is a part of the life of God. And so the question isn’t “do I want to be interrupted?” but “how will I handle this opportunity for ministry that is set before me?” What if Jesus had said no at Cana and it set the tone for his life and ministry? What if when he came upon the lepers who asked for healing he said, “you know, I’m busy right now, sorry.” What if when the crowd was ready to stone the adulterous woman to death he said “you know, it’s not really any of my concern?” But Jesus realized that his life was not his own, but was a part of God’s history. And when we are in God’s history, we cannot refuse to act, but instead only control how we will respond. Will it be with grace, or with indifference? Will it be by living for ourselves, or for others?
Henry Ford is reported to have once said “life is just one damned event after another.” Well, I couldn’t disagree more. Life is not just one damned event after another. Life is one opportunity to show the glory of God after another, one chance to show the world that we are a follower of Jesus by serving and loving. How we respond to the interruptions of life matters. Everything we do matters to someone, regardless of how big or small the event is.
This weekend, we of course remember the great Martin Luther King, Jr. What would our culture look life if he had responded differently to the interruptions of life? In 1954, at age 25, King moved to Montgomery, Alabama after finishing his studies at Boston University. He was busy. He had a young family, was the new pastor of a church, and was finishing up his doctoral dissertation. And then on December 1, 1955, Rosa Parks refused to move to the back of the bus. It was an event that King had nothing to do with. He had never met Parks before. But that event began a movement, and local leaders called on King to be the leader of this movement for justice.
What if King though had responded by saying “you know, I have a young family that needs me. And I’m working on this dissertation, and it really need to focus on that. And furthermore, I’m the pastor of a new congregation, and I should spend time getting to know them. Sorry that I can’t help you, but it just isn’t a good time for me, Rosa Parks isn’t my problem, I don’t have the energy for it?” What would our world look like if Martin Luther King had refused to respond to the breaking of God into our world in this interruption? Imagine how our world might be better if we never again said “you know, I’m just too busy right now, I just can’t afford to give more to charity, I’m not sure that I’m qualified to help in that way, I’m afraid I won’t do a good job, someone else will handle it.” Having healthy boundaries are a good and healthy thing and saying “yes” to everything can lead to other problems, but let us not forget that God comes to us in the distractions of life.
In a sermon entitled “The Drum Major Instinct,” King talked about our actions, and the price of inaction. And he concludes by saying that “I want to be at Jesus’ side in love and justice…so that we can make the old world a new world.” Or, if you’ll allow me a paraphrase- I want to work with Jesus to transform the old water into new wine.
Once the water is changed into wine, the head waiter doesn’t say “thank God we had a miracle-worker at this party!” Instead, he assumes the wine came from storage somewhere. This is our call: to be drum majors alongside Jesus and all of his followers like King. To bring out of our storage the love, justice, compassion, grace, and peace that will transform our world into a new one.
It’s a good message to start the new year with, and a good Epiphany lesson. When we invite Jesus to participate in our lives, when we see distractions not just as “damned events” but opportunities for grace, then we can experience Gospel transformation. The old waters of fear, injustice, oppression, vengeance, resentment, and sin can indeed be transformed into the new wine of love, peace, and justice. And in a few moments, we’ll be invited to gather around God’s Table to take a sip of that new wine. May it strengthen us for ministry. May it give us the courage to act and respond in the way that Martin Luther King did. And may it give us a foretaste of that heavenly banquet, inspiring us to work to bring about the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.