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.
