The First Miracle

The First Miracle

2 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.

During my three years of seminary, I held two work-study jobs to help me pay for school. One was pretty boring--I sorted mail every morning into the boxes of students and faculty and staff members. But the other was a bit more interesting. Every Friday, as the seminary community gathered for our chapel service, I set up for our celebration of communion. I placed paraments on the table, placing the bread on the plates, and grape juice and wine in the cups. The fun part of the job, though, was buying the wine, bread, and grape juice—now this was before I realized the joys in different kinds of wines, and I was on a budget—so I usually just bought a jug of white wine at the store that would last for several weeks. I would inevitably walk down the hall in front of the Old Testament class carrying the jug of wine. Some folks would look at me funny, like: “Why is this crazy woman carrying a jug of wine down the hall in front of these Bible classes?” But other folks were more fun: “Where’s the party? What time should I be there?” I always smiled and said something witty like, “The blood of Christ given for you,” or, “Hey, it was the first miracle, after all!” And it was the first miracle, this gift of wine that Jesus gave the wedding goers, gave to all of us—this miracle of water turned into wine, this gift of grace, this sign of welcome at the banquet feast.

In those days, it was customary for wedding celebrations to last for seven days—no honeymooning as is typical today—but a lavish banquet for family and friends filled with purification rituals and food and drink and the best wines available. It was customary for the best wine to be served first, and then the not-so-good wines served as people drank more and wouldn’t necessarily care about quality. The groom’s family served as the hosts, and they cared greatly about hospitality—about making sure their guests were fed and welcomed and cared for.

Maybe the family during this wedding celebration was too busy to notice that the wine was running out, but Mary caught on, knowing that Jesus, the miracle maker, was the one who could do something about it, asking him to help. This is one of my favorite parts of the passage—Mary said to Jesus, “’They have no wine.” His response: “’Woman, what concern is that to you and me? My hour has not yet come.’” And, as Kathy pointed out to us a few weeks ago, Mary, who always lived in the tension that her Son was Lord—but still her child—completely ignored his response and said to the servants, “’Do whatever he tells you.’” They responded, and so did Jesus. He might’ve been the Savior, but he still obeyed his mom.

Jesus saw the jars used for purification and asked that they be filled with water, 6 jars of 20-30 gallons each—not small, and he turned the water into wine. It was his first miracle, according to John, the water turned into wine, the good wine of purification, the good wine that would keep the guests happy and filled, the good wine that would inevitably point them and all of us from the banquet table to the communion table. The party continued, and the guests were filled with joy, happy to be feasting at the table, enjoying life together as a community.

As I was preparing for this sermon this week, I read an interpretation of this wedding feast at Cana, this first miracle, that was so fascinating to me. In the Feasting on the Word series, Robert Brearley suggests that

Sometimes the church has forgotten that our Lord once attended a wedding feast and said yes to gladness and joy. Prompted by his earthly mother, Jesus turned water into wine to point us to his heavenly Father, a God who loves to hear the laughter of people celebrating people. Sometimes the church has forgotten to live the joy of such revelation…God does not want our religion to be too holy to be happy in. Throughout his life and ministry, Jesus of Nazareth celebrated people—people getting married, people being healed of disease and deformity, people enjoying meals together. He carried a spirit of celebration with him wherever he went as he proclaimed a God of mercy and peace and joy. This joyous feast at Cana is still a sign to the church that we are to rejoice in the people of God and to toast the world with the amazing good news of grace.

In talking about this kind of grace, Brearley quotes another pastor, David Steele, who refers to this kind of grace as a spirit of celebration, a spirit called “’Cana-grace,’ the knack for throwing parties that combine food, decorations, music, and laughter to create an atmosphere of welcome, of well-being, and love.”

Cana-grace. I love that—the kind of grace where lavish feasts are set and where people are welcomed, where doors are opened, where food and drink are shared with everyone and there is always enough to go around, for everyone to be fed, for everyone to be filled. Friends, we live in a world, especially in a country, where Christians are often known more for what we’re against than what we’re for, where we are known more for who we’re against than who we’re for, where we commonly live in fear of the other instead of living in the joy of our neighbor, where we are more commonly called “judgmental” than “welcoming,” where folks are turned away from our church doors because of who they are or how they live or who they are called to be. Wouldn’t it be incredible to be known instead as people of Cana-grace, as followers who have been welcomed to the table and invited to the feast? Wouldn’t it be incredible to be known as folks who extend incredible grace and welcome to others because it has first been given to us? Wouldn’t it be incredible to be known as people who have been given liberty from fear and given the gift of life? Wouldn’t it be incredible to truly embody the name by which we are called—CHRISTIANS—to embody the welcome, joy, and love of Christ in all that we say and all that we do?

We so often tend to live in fear, in judgment, in apprehension of the world and its people around us—but through this first miracle, we are called to remember and follow a Christ who, from the beginning of his ministry, said no to fear and darkness, and instead said yes to gladness and joy. We are called to revel in that joy because we have been created by God and redeemed by Christ who lived in joy for all of us. This Cana banquet points us ultimately to Christ’s table, a table of community, a table of welcome, a table of grace, a table where we are reminded of Christ’s life-giving sacrifice for us all. This Cana feast inspires us to live as people of Cana grace, people who revel in a Christ who welcomed and provided for us—and took joy in us. This Cana celebration reminds us to live as people who respond to that welcome and provision by providing welcome and provision for every other single one of God’s children. This first miracle was given for all of those who were invited to that week-long wedding celebration, and this first miracle is given for all of us, who are always invited to the feast of Christ. Thanks be to God. Amen.