Second Sunday after Epiphany
Gifts
Rev. Brent Gundlah
First Reading (1 Corinthians 12:1-11/NRSVUE)
Gospel Reading (John 2:1-11/NRSVUE)
As you might imagine, during my time as a pastor, I’ve had the privilege of officiating a few weddings. While I might not have done as many of them as some pastors have, I’ve done enough of them to notice that they have things in common, one of which is this: something — large or small — inevitably goes wrong.
On a late summer Saturday a few years ago, I was part of a wedding that I will never forget. It was outdoors under a gazebo at a country club and, luckily, the weather was fine — kind of hot and humid, but otherwise fine.
The couple had, for some unknown reason, decided not to have a rehearsal, which dialed up the stress level a little bit because, until about an hour before the ceremony, no one actually knew what they were supposed to do. So we gathered hastily to figure out who needed to be where and when they needed to be there. Thankfully, none of this was too complicated.
The bride was set to arrive at the head of the path leading up to the gazebo in a 1970s muscle car, which wasn’t necessarily a choice that I would have made for several reasons, but mostly because introducing more moving parts to this process markedly increased the degree of difficulty. At least the incredibly loud engine gave us all the advantage of knowing exactly when the bride was on the move — literally, from a mile away; the was no way she was sneaking up on anyone in that thing.
The groom had one thing to do — well, other than standing there looking stressed out, that is. When his soon-to-be spouse emerged from her Camaro, that was his signal to start the processional music. He’d hidden a wireless speaker inside the gazebo behind some flowers and linked it to his phone; he’d turned it up pretty high because we were outside and the song was kind of a quiet one. All he had to do was cue it up (which he did) and push the play button, which seemed simple enough — or so he thought, anyway.
You see, when the time finally came for the groom to spring into action, his nerves apparently got the better of him and, instead of pushing the play button, he opened the last app he’d used; so rather than hearing the bride’s entrance song, we heard this instead: “IT’S TIME FOR COLLEGE FOOTBALL!” I guess somebody had planned on listening to the pregame podcast for that afternoon’s Ohio State game at some point. And while it was, in fact, time for college football for a lot of folks that day, it definitely wasn’t for us.
The groom was absolutely mortified, which makes sense, I suppose — he did have only one job to do and managed to mess it up. But he quickly righted the ship and got the song that was supposed to be playing to play. Thankfully, the bride was none the wiser because she was still pretty far away at that point (and that Camaro was really loud), but the groom’s mother shot him a look that I wouldn’t have wanted to be on the receiving end of. Everyone else (including me) got a really good laugh out of the whole situation, and it sure took a lot of the pre-wedding tension out of the air.
By mid-afternoon this nice couple was married, people were having a great time at the reception, and I think Ohio State won, so it was a pretty good day all around for those involved (well, except for me because I’m not an Ohio State fan). But there sure is a lot of pressure on people for weddings to be perfect in every way, even though they never are. And the really unfortunate result of this is that what’s supposed to be a joyous occasion often ends up being stressful and way too serious.
Things seem like they’re about to go of the rails at this wedding in Cana too — you know, the one that John tells us about in today’s Gospel reading. Jesus and his disciples had been invited to attend, as had Jesus’s mother (for reasons unknown, Mary is never referred to by name in John’s Gospel).
In those days, you didn’t have a reception after the wedding ceremony and send everyone home a few hours later so you could head of on your honeymoon; no, you threw a giant banquet for everyone that lasted seven full days. But there seems to be a little problem here. Jesus’s mother — let’s just call her Mary, even though John doesn’t, shall we? — Mary notices that they’ve run out of wine, which is a big faux pas in a culture like this one where hospitality is incredibly important.
You see, people expected weddings to be perfect way back then too, and this one was about to become far less than perfect. The hosts are going to look inept and inhospitable, and sending everyone home early wasn’t an option. The steward who was responsible for ensuring that there was enough wine on hand is also going to have some explaining to do.
Mary, notices the situation, but not wanting to embarrass anyone, chooses to have quiet word with Jesus. Was she expecting him to do something about it or was she just making an observation? It’s hard to say for sure; but, if Jesus’s response is any indication, it seems like he thought she was asking him to do something.
And his answer seems, to be frank, a little rude. I mean, it’s bad enough to say “no” when your mom asks you to do something, but to begin your refusal by addressing her as “woman” is a risky choice. Let’s just say that if I had ever done this to my mother, I probably wouldn’t be standing here right now. The text doesn’t tell us much about Mary’s reaction, but I imagine she probably gave Jesus a mom look that I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of. All we’re told is that she says to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”
Jesus apparently has a change of heart about helping because he suddenly tells the servants to take the “six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons” and fill them with water. He then orders them to draw a sample off the top and take it to the steward who is surprised to find out that it is wine (for those of you keeping score at home, those jars that Mary discovered were empty are now filled with 120 to 180 gallons of wine). And, to be clear, this wasn’t the cheap stuff; as the shocked steward points out to the groom, this is “the good wine.”
The only people who seem to know what actually happened here — that Jesus somehow turned this water into a whole lot of wine — are the servants, Mary, the disciples and, of course, us. The disciples are really impressed by this first of Jesus’s signs (there will be six more of them in John’s Gospel).
Because of what Jesus does here, the disciples see his glory revealed and believe in him, which is a pretty big deal. In addition, the newly-married couple, their families and their guests didn’t ever notice there was anything amiss, and the steward, who was about to be in a whole heap of trouble, is off the hook too. And so this also ended up being a pretty good day all around for everyone involved.
This is one of the most familiar stories in the Gospels, and for good reason (though, interestingly, John is the only one of the four who shares it): There’s the tension of the wedding banquet that’s about to go awry, there’s Jesus’s strange treatment of his mother, and there’s the extravagant abundance that Jesus is at first reluctant to provide but then chooses to share though this wild miracle that not only saves the day, but also inspires the disciples to believe in him.
And yet, amidst all of this high drama, we have the chance to observe something important about Jesus that all of that other stuff might cause us to overlook, which is this: He definitely appreciated the value of having a good time. As Robert Brearley, an author and Presbyterian pastor, explains it: “The sign at Cana tells us that Jesus served a God who puts joy into life, who thinks it’s worth a miracle to keep the party going as we celebrate people.”
All of this got me to thinking about the things we do as a church. For example I, as your pastor, would love for everything that happens when we worship in this sanctuary to be perfect. But, like a wedding, it never is; and sometimes, I must confess, I take that kind of hard.
And amidst of all society’s problems, amidst all of the world’s injustice and oppression and sadness and pain, amidst all the fear of what the future may be like, it always feels like we need to be doing more than we’re doing, to be doing better than we’re doing, to be trying harder than we’re trying, in order to help make things right. Don’t get me wrong, this is essential work — the kind of work that God’s calls upon us to do. And it’s obvious that we still have a long way to go before we reach the promised land that Dr. King saw. That’s a lot of pressure.
Then again, maybe we’re not supposed to be perfect — indeed, as the saying goes, the perfect is often the enemy of the good; and in this case, maybe the good is allowing ourselves to lighten up and experience some joy in here and out there, to laugh every once in a while — yes, even at ourselves — yes, in here and definitely, out there. Once again, Reverend Brearley puts it well: “God does not want our religion to be too holy to be happy in.”
May we always strive to live into all that God is calling us towards;
may we always work for justice and feed the hungry and care for those in need;
may we always be grateful for all of the blessings that God has shared with us and for all that Jesus gave for us;
and may we always remember to celebrate — with joy and with laughter — our relationships to God and one another.