Gospel: John 2:1-11
I love that this morning’s Gospel reading, one relating the first of the seven Signs demonstrated by Jesus in John, is set at a party. The passage gives us a rich mix of tradition, culture, and echoes of the Old Testament, and it brings to life a gift of great abundance during a time of great exuberance.
Let’s begin with the setting. The exact location of Cana is unknown, but a best guess by scholars has it set somewhere between three and nine miles north of Nazareth. Jesus and his disciples have arrived at a large wedding celebration, likely on its seventh day. Think about that for a moment: a kickoff procession during which the bride is brought to the groom’s house by his friends; a wedding supper; the wedding ceremony, likely held on Wednesday to allow for the approach of the Sabbath; and then five more days of guests coming and going and a party that doesn’t end.
The first sign of abundance: the scope and duration of the festivities.
Next, we consider that there’s no sign in the text of how well Jesus knew or was known by the wedding party, if at all. Tradition at that time held that planning the lengthy wedding celebration would have entailed the host inviting as many people as possible. The wealthier the host, the more people could be invited – even up to the population of an entire city or town. With that in mind, we can’t say with any certainty that Jesus, Mary, and the disciples knew the host. Possible, yes, but who knows. That sort of detail isn’t important, however; what is important is that they’re at the celebration.
The second sign of abundance: the number of people celebrating with the bride and groom.
We then arrive at the moment when Mary approaches Jesus to say the supply of wine is exhausted. Perhaps she was being mindful of the fact the banquet host faced a long period of embarrassment and social stigma for not having enough for all the guests. Perhaps she sensed – on a deeper level – something else needed to happen. Regardless, Jesus answers with seeming disinterest: “What concern is that to you and to me?” It’s none of my business; why are you telling me about it? And yet Mary persists. She listens to Jesus and then appears to disregard him, turning instead to those working the party to say, “Do whatever he says.” It didn’t matter what she heard; what matters is what she seems to know.
The third sign of abundance: Mary’s hope for what was to come.
Then we have the Sign. Despite what he’s just said, Jesus first directs the servants to fill the stone jars with water, and they do – to the brim. He then instructs the steward to draw from the water – which has somehow become wine. From nothing, they now have before them something between 120 and 180 gallons of the best wine. From a scarcity that would have ended the banquet, there’s now more than enough to keep the celebration going.
The fourth sign of abundance: enough of the finest wine to save the party and the host’s reputation.
But these are only surface signs, reflections of the culture and traditions of the day. There are also meanings below the surface, echoes of the past woven into the wonder of that present moment. In Old Testament times, for instance, mention of a wedding banquet was the symbol of a future messianic age. Then we have the old jars filled with water suddenly being changed to jars filled with the best new wine, a reflection of what we find in the earliest Gospel (Mark): “And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins.” This is the new wine of Jesus’ teaching filling (and then breaking) the old customs of the Pharisees. Finally, the wording “you have kept the good wine until now” also has ties to a proclamation of the coming of the messianic age.
In the abundance seen throughout this passage, we find the arrival of that messianic age. The presence and actions of Jesus – the person of Jesus – together are that arrival. In that arrival, we witness the start of an age that offers not enough for some but instead an abundance for all. At the wedding banquet the newest, finest wine isn’t shared with the finest of the guests; the good host would have ensured it was shared with all. That is the key message here: Jesus gives abundantly, not just to some, but to all. Jesus doesn’t give out of something that’s not full; we don’t receive from half-empty jars. Jesus gives from abundance; we receive from something filled to the brim. What Mary, the steward, the banquet guests, and all of us witness is, in the words of Fleming Rutledge, “the overflowing nature of God’s generosity.”
There’s also one final important point here. In his answer to Mary’s alert about the wine having run out, Jesus seems disengaged or disinterested. As we see, of course, that perception of a disinterested messiah wasn’t reflected in what happened next. The same can be said for each of us. In the moments when life is off-kilter, when things appear out of balance, when we’re feeling half-empty, when we think God is disinterested, fear not – for it’s in the moments when things are about to run out for us that we may very well receive the blessings of greatest abundance.
The emptiness of our jars will be filled with the newest and best wine. The old, worn-out wineskins we insist on carrying around will be made new.
We will be made new.
Amen.