The Good News: John 2:1-11 CEB
On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and 2 Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the celebration. 3 When the wine ran out, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They don’t have any wine.”
4 Jesus replied, “Woman, what does that have to do with me? My time hasn’t come yet.”
5 His mother told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” 6 Nearby were six stone water jars used for the Jewish cleansing ritual, each able to hold about twenty or thirty gallons.
7 Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water,” and they filled them to the brim. 8 Then he told them, “Now draw some from them and take it to the headwaiter,” and they did. 9 The headwaiter tasted the water that had become wine. He didn’t know where it came from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew.
The headwaiter called the groom 10 and said, “Everyone serves the good wine first. They bring out the second-rate wine only when the guests are drinking freely. You kept the good wine until now.” 11 This was the first miraculous sign that Jesus did in Cana of Galilee. He revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in him.
Reflection: “Wine and Warm Slippers”
One of my favourite Facebook pages likes to take a somewhat light-hearted, tongue-in-cheek look at the Christian story. Recently, they asked, “What if the wedding at Cana had been the wedding at Canada?” Since most of their followers are American, they trotted out a lot of Canadian stereotypes, many of them having to do with beer, poutine, maple syrup or hockey. But here’s my definite favourite: “His mother would have said, “Jesus, they have run out of home-made slippers in the basket by the door and it’s NOT COZY. DO SOMETHING!”
Nothing spoils a good party in Canada like cold feet, and nothing spoiled a good party in Jesus’ time like running out of wine.
A wedding was a big deal in the Palestine of Jesus’ time, a seven-day feast at the home of the groom’s family with lavish hospitality and a good supply of wine to fuel the celebration. The wedding party at Cana has been going swimmingly until disaster strikes – the wine runs out. Imagine the happy crowd of people talking, laughing, eating, maybe a few are dancing. Someone calls for another cup of wine and a servant scurries over to the wine jars. He tips one, but only a few drops come out. He tries another, then another, growing increasingly anxious, and finally, reluctantly, goes to whisper in the ear of the host. Social disaster is about to strike, the host’s social standing is at risk and it does not bode well for the young couple’s future happiness. The wine in this story is not just the social lubricant that keeps the party going, it is a central symbol for the hospitality being offered to the guests at the wedding, like slippers at the door of a Canadian home.
Mary, the mother of Jesus, notices the problem and points it out to her son. Jesus’ first reaction is strange, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” His mother does not answer him directly, but tells the servants to do whatever Jesus tells them.
Well, you’ve probably noticed that the world isn’t feeling very cozy of late. Fear seems to be an increasingly big part of our lives. We are afraid that the developed world’s tenuous hold on democracy is about to break. We are afraid that the ever-so-fragile ceasefire in Gaza will not hold. We are afraid that the death rate from toxic drugs will continue to increase, and so will the numbers of people forced to live in refugee camps in war-torn lands or here in our own parks and streets. We are afraid that our world is burning up.
We look around at the party, where the guests are blissfully or determinedly unaware that the wine has run out, and we wonder, why can’t they see that the jars are empty, that the world has run out of civility and goodwill? Only Mary sees clearly and says to Jesus, “They have no wine.”
Let’s take a few moments to focus on this strange little dialogue and the two people involved in it. I imagine Jesus and his mother slightly removed from the festivities, a little island with the party swirling around them. It’s where introverts like me often find ourselves, quietly observing, occasionally commenting, sometimes finding ourselves in an intense conversation with one other person. It’s that little bit of distance that allows Mary to notice that the wine has run out and mention it to Jesus.
But it’s not just a passing comment. Mary sees a need and compassionately identifies it. She is aware of how a seemingly small problem will affect all the people celebrating around her. Her simple statement, “They have no wine”, shows us Mary’s prophetic gift for speaking out on behalf of others, especially those who have nothing.
When Mary makes that simple statement and Jesus answers her concern with seeming indifference, everything in this moment screams “Pay attention!”
What does Jesus mean when he says, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” What is the writer of this gospel trying to tell us about who Jesus is and his relationship to his mother, to the guests at the party, to us?
The first thing that I notice in his reply is his humanity. Like many of us, when confronted with the needs of others, his first response is not to get involved. He distances himself from his mother, calling her simply “Woman”, and he distances both of them from the problem, What has that to do with us? Jesus clearly understands and shares our frequent reaction to the expectation that we should be doing something about the need all around us: It’s not my problem, and I’m not ready to do something about it. We get cold feet, in the metaphorical sense.
Thank goodness that Jesus’ first response is not the end of this story, but only the beginning. Thank goodness that Mary’s sensitivity to the need around her and her clarity of vision about Jesus’ role encourages her to tell him about the need she sees. Thank goodness that in her wisdom, Mary doesn’t argue with Jesus but calmly instructs the servants to do what Jesus tells them, inviting him into action.
Because when the servants fill the ceremonial water jars with water, as Jesus instructs them, they witness the miracle of God’s abundance. The huge jars, each holding twenty or thirty gallons, are filled to the brim. And not with just any old wine, the kind that you might serve near the end of the party when no one can tell the difference. No, this is the best wine of all.
Not the thin, sour wine that fuels our self-indulgent lifestyles but never satisfies, but a rich, full wine born of holy water, held in jars of earth, poured out but still brimming over, filling us with divine love. With this wine, we are asked to trust in God’s extravagant abundance, even, especially, when it seems that God is not responding to the needs that seem so obvious to us.
In providing this good wine, Jesus not only revives the party but invites us to celebrate with him. We are invited to rejoice in just being, to rejoice in our relationships with each other and with God, to give thanks for God’s abundant gifts and to share them with others. The mother of Jesus urges us to notice and name the needs of those around us, and to call attention to them. We bring them to God’s attention in our prayers, and to the attention of the world in our work for social justice. Mary calls us to be persistent in this noticing and interceding.
Everything that Jesus says and does points us towards a deeper understanding of God. If Jesus could respond to Mary’s nudging by changing his mind to meet the human need she persistently shows him, God will also listen to our persistent prayers on behalf of others. God’s ways can change in response to our expressed needs.
The story of the wedding at Cana inspires us to celebrate God’s abundance in our lives and in our world. We are called to name the evil in the world, the many places of need, but we are also called to trust in God’s plan for us and creation.
We are called to hold up hope against fear, to clearly see both the scarcity and abundance in our world, and to work for redistribution so that everyone has enough to live gladly and with dignity.
Let us praise and thank God with generous hearts. Let us also accept the call to be God’s partners in building a new world, a world where the good wine of God’s love overflows and no one has cold feet.
Let us pray:
God of the wedding feast, Holy One of abundant joy and overflowing grace, open us to you. Open us to trust in love that never runs out. Encourage us to persist in naming the places where your love is needed and sharing your gifts fairly in those places of need. Strengthen us to follow the path that Jesus shows us, and to work with you to build your Kingdom here on earth. Amen.
For Reflection: How do you stay open to God’s power to surprise, to continue to show up in unexpected locations, and to delight? How does this help you to hold onto hope in frightening times?
