Be with us, O God, for if you are with us nothing else matters; and if you are not with us, nothing else matters. Amen.
Is Scripture about God or is it about us? That simple question greatly influences how you read the Bible and what conclusions you draw from the text. Of course, Scripture offers us insights about both God and all of Creation. But the question is about first impressions. Is the first thing we look for in a Biblical text a revelation into the character of God, or do we primarily read Scripture to find out what we are supposed to do?
I’ll confess that for many years, I tended to read the Bible as telling us how we are supposed to live, not in an overly legalistic way, but trusting that the Bible is to be our guiding light. And there’s nothing at all wrong with having Scripture teach or inspire us. But I have come to see that, first and foremost, the Bible tells us something about God more than it does about ourselves. In this season after the Epiphany, we realize that we, indeed, need epiphanies about God. If we always look the Bible to see what we can get out of it, then we might miss out on these revelations about God, and that is where the real grace is found.
Perhaps you’ve heard of the Bible study method where, after reading the text aloud, you ponder the question “What is God calling me to do?” There’s no heresy in that question, But when we turn our gaze inward, towards ourselves, we miss out on the more important question, “What does this tell me about God?” It’s the difference between “if-then” and “because-therefore.” If-then logic says “If the Bible says this, then I must do that.” But that’s the language of legalism because a “then” tells us what we must do. Instead, reading the Bible with an eye out for God leads us to because-therefore logic, which looks something like “Because God is this, therefore I am able to do that.” The “therefore” is all about the grace of God because it reminds us that all we do is a response to God’s graciousness, and it removes from us any burden of “oughts” and “shoulds.” So reading the Bible with an eye towards God not only is more enlightening, but also leads us closer to the grace of God.
For me, this transformation in how I approach Scripture began about 2 years ago when I encountered the work of Mockingbird Ministries. They call themselves that because they believe that the work of the Church is not to have a call of its own, but rather, like a mockingbird, is to repeat the call of grace that we have heard in Jesus Christ. One of their contributors, the Rev. Fleming Rutledge, often hammers home the point that God is the primary actor throughout history and Scripture. She cautions us that when we read Scripture as being about what we are supposed to be doing that we might fall into the trap of thinking that we are the source of salvation. But in focusing on what God is doing in and through Jesus Christ and by the Holy Spirit, we encounter the real and saving grace of God.
Take our Gospel text from John this morning as a case-in-point. There are many ways that we can read this as being a text that is all about us instead of being all about God. The last time I preached on this text was 2013, so this past week I read that sermon, just to see what I said about it six years ago. I’ll confess that I was a bit disappointed in myself because I approached it from the vantage of “what does this text tell us about how we should be Christians?”.
One way that this happens is related to water in the stone jars. You may have heard it said that when Jesus turns this water into wine, he is abolishing the laws of purity and boundaries. It is then often said that we, too, need to break down boundaries. But the text very likely isn’t about that – everyone at the party would have already washed when they arrived. It’s not that Jesus is saying “You don’t need to wash your hands anymore,” he’s simply using jars that have already served their purpose. Or another way it happens is when we think this is about transforming ourselves in the same way that the water was transformed into wine. Such a reading puts an incredible burden on us to better ourselves when that is simply beyond us. Or just as Jesus was interrupted and at first says “What concern is this to me,” sometimes this text is used to encourage us to interpret life’s interruptions not as problems but as invitations. But, again, do we really need Holy Scripture to give us such a simple lesson?
Now, this isn’t to say that any of those ideas are wrong or bad, it’s just that they’re secondary. Instead, what is primary in this text is the grace of God. In John’s epic prologue, we read “The Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory… from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” The rest of John gives us insights into this “grace upon grace.” Then, at the end of John’s writing, we read “Now Jesus did many other signs which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe and that through believing you may have life in Jesus’ name.” John is tipping us off to the point that the Gospel isn’t about how we are to act, but rather that this is all about us entering into the abundant life given to us in Jesus.
Even within today’s passage, we are told what the purpose of recording this story is – “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” It’s not about telling us what to do, it’s about revealing the glory of God in Christ to the end that we can put our faith, hope, and trust in God. And the fact that John uses the word “sign” instead of “miracle” to describe this event is telling. A miraculous event, as wonderful as it might be, only makes a chronological claim – God did something amazing. But a sign is different, a sign says, “God does amazing things.” The difference is subtle, but very real.
So, if we read this as a text about God and not ourselves, how else is this story a sign that points us to the glory of God? If we’ve tuned our vision towards reading about God, the first thing that pops out in this story is the exceeding abundance of God. John records that there were six stone water jars, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Some quick math means that Jesus produced the equivalent of no less than 600 bottles of wine. That’s an incredible amount of wine. Jesus does not provide enough wine, he provides a superabundance.
And there is also abundance in the quality. The steward notes that this is the “good wine.” This is the sort of wine that you want to make a first impression with – one that will impress the guests. Once they’ve had a few glasses, the host would normally switch to the cheap stuff, because, at that point, no one could tell the difference, and if they could, they wouldn’t care as long as the wine was flowing. But Jesus does not give the 1st century equivalent of Yellowtail or Sutter Homes, no, this is the sort of stuff that the master sommelier tastes and says “Wow!” Jesus provides not just an abundant extravagance in quantity, but also quality. What is provided is more than we need and better than is deserved.
This wine points to the celebratory and joyous nature of God’s kingdom. But this wine not only led to a robust party, it was also very much saving grace for the host. Weddings were once in a lifetime events in Israel, a real occasion to pull out all the stops. Wedding feasts then are nothing like wedding receptions today. Both in ancient and modern Israel, weddings typically are held on Tuesdays and the party lasts the rest of the week. A wedding was the chance to put on a show for the village, to be the host with the most. So to run out of wine was not only a faux-pas, but would bring shame on the household. This wedding wouldn’t be remembered because of the couple, but because it was the one where they ran out of wine.
Jesus, though, saves the host from this shame. Now the host may never have known that it was a saving act of Jesus that saved him from this predicament. John notes that only the servants knew where the wine came from. Sometimes God’s saving grace is known to us, and sometimes we are completely oblivious as to how God saves and sustains us. This, again, points to the gracious nature of God. As far as we know from what John has written, the host does not ask for help in procuring more wine, maybe the host isn’t even aware of the dire predicament that they are in. So it can’t be that the host deserves a miracle or has earned it. We can’t be sure why they ran out of wine – did more people show up than expected, did the host not have the money to buy more, were people drinking more than normal, was the host just trying to be cheap? We don’t know, but whether it was the host’s fault or not for this shortage, Jesus saves.
And notice how this salvation comes – through a transformation that comes entirely from God. The water did not choose to become wine, nor did it have the power to do so in itself. The servants had no role in this transformation, nor did any of the guests. Instead, the only actor is Jesus. Just as ordinary water is transformed into celebratory wine, we see the same thing happening in the Church. We are Baptized with water and transformed into citizens of God’s kingdom of grace. What we see here is that God is in the business of transformation.
As our nation remembers the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. this weekend, one of his lines from his Letter from Birmingham Jail resonates well with this idea of transformation. King suggests that faith is a thermostat, not a thermometer. And here we get back to the idea that Scripture is primarily about God. God does not give us the Bible to be a thermometer, telling us how to interpret life or read the times. Rather, God gives us the Bible as a thermostat. The trick, though, is to not fool ourselves into thinking that we are the one who moves the knob. God controls the thermostat and it is we who are changed. Our cold and sinful hearts are warmed by God’s loving grace.
But we would completely miss out on this if we read this, or any other, passage as being about what we are supposed to do. Instead, this passage tells us about who God is. And because we know God, we are therefore able to partake in the abundant life intended for us. God provides extravagantly for us, God saves us from the shame of sin and death, and God transforms us in the light of Jesus Christ. This is the epiphany that we encounter in this story about at wedding in Cana of Galilee.
Just as this abundant and outstanding wine was unexpected, in a move that is beyond our ability to comprehend, that very same wine that was enjoyed at Cana and at the heavenly banquet will be offered to you in just a few minutes. By the grace of God, you will receive the cup of salvation. The Eucharist is a reminder of and nourishment in the abundant, saving, and transforming grace of God. You thought you were just coming to Church today, but you’re getting the very best of God’s grace.
