Judging a Book By Its Cover

Scripture

John 2:1-11

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what concern is that to me and to you? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”

Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the person in charge of the banquet.” So they took it. When the person in charge tasted the water that had become wine and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), that person called the bridegroom 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.” Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee and revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in him.

Sermon

Today’s sermon needs a preface: Jesus is not trying to get you inebriated. And though it’s a funny thing to say, I think it needs to be said. Historically, the theology of the Church has not been friendly to people in recovery, especially when it comes to sacraments. Far too often, priests and pastors who drink can start glorifying wine, pretending it has some mystic power during Communion, or let their personal biases fuel religious nonsense.

I’ll do my best to steer us clear of that. Fortunately, and interestingly, the Gospel might be suggesting that wine and alcohol are somewhat immaterial to what happens before our eyes this morning.

In the Gospel accounts, we are accustomed to hearing about “miracles.” The Greek word typically used is δύναμις (dunamis), and it’s translated in a few different ways. The NRSV, the translation in the pew Bibles, often translates it as “deeds of power.” The ESV says “mighty works.”

In three of the Gospels, there is often a common point being made: Jesus is not just a human being, but fully God, too. Only God can perform a miraculous deed. But in today’s Gospel of John, we don’t hear the word dunamis a single time. We hear the word σημεῖον (sēmeion).

The word sēmeion is a “sign.” Though Jesus might be doing something miraculous in a sense, John isn’t describing a deed. John is recounting a sign, which testifies or speaks to something far greater and more profound than the act itself. Think about Epiphany. Yes, there was a remarkable, mighty deed taking place, but it testified and confirmed the birth of Christ. In the Gospel of John, Jesus heals the sick, casts out demons, and feeds thousands, but that’s only the surface. It’s more than the deed; it’s way more than the wine. The wine is only a sign of a truth that is so much bigger. As we see these things take place before our eyes in John’s Gospel, we have to ask a question: What is this a sign of?

We don’t need to make this more complicated than it is. Jesus is here, as a guest invited to a wedding with his disciples. Weddings in the ancient world and the modern world have something in common: they’re a good time. Picture it - dancing and celebration, cheering and laughter, good food and drink and hospitality. And for the wedding Jesus was at, the celebrations lasted days. We meet Jesus in the middle of it all, after a few days of celebrations, and instead of opening the cheapo boxed wine, he provides the finest wine.

So what is this a sign of? Jesus is drawing forth joy, celebration, and connectedness from ordinary jars and whatever is around. He took these stone jars, laying around for normal, daily purposes, and transformed them for the good of his neighbors. Jesus intervenes, not to broadcast any dramatic message, but to sustain the joy of those around him. Through the incarnation of Christ, God brings grace into our lives that isn’t heady and cerebral; through the incarnation, God instead brings grace that we can taste and see and know in real and special ways.

This miraculous deed is a sign that God is not content with our mere survival; God is determined to bring about joy and celebration within our deepest souls, for the whole human race.

Through the incarnation of Christ, God brings grace into our lives that isn’t heady and cerebral; through the incarnation, God instead brings grace that we can taste and see and know in real and special ways.

But there’s another dimension of this sign in Cana. 

Mary, the mother of Jesus, makes two appearances in the Gospel of John, and this passage is the first. The relationship between her and Jesus in this passage is almost humorous, with Jesus asking her, “Mom, why does this concern me? Figure it out.”

There is only one other occasion we see Mary with her son. It’s while he is being crucified. That time, Jesus drinks not of good, celebratory wine, but drinks instead of sour wine, meant to prolong his suffering. Mary and Jesus are together one final time, at a funeral instead of a wedding.

For those who were not disciples, those two incidents are the beginning and end of Jesus’ public ministry. Mary inaugurates the beginning of his public teaching and healing and signs, and Mary is a witness to the conclusion of it on the cross.

That makes this wedding at Cana the front cover of Jesus’ ministry.

Jesus will have good days and bad days, days when he is energetic and days when he is exhausted. But Cana is what sets the tone for what’s inside the living Word of his existence among us: joy, celebration, connectedness. Jesus’ disciples see on this front cover what Jesus is really about: grace that never runs dry, and hopeful people who never go thirsty. Jesus and his disciples dine together and laugh together, because it will fix their eyes on what truly matters, and will surely sustain their ministry together on difficult days.

This miraculous deed is a sign that God is not content with our mere survival; God is determined to bring about joy and celebration within our deepest souls, for the whole human race.

Thanks to the wedding at Cana, Jesus’ incarnate life and ministry is a book we can judge by its cover.

On this front cover in Cana, Jesus gives us a spoiler alert: Jesus gives us not only grace, but is concerned with it being good, meaningful grace. Jesus didn’t turn the water at Cana into a box of Franzia; he turned it into the finest wine, good wine that surprises all who taste it. We know that God has been faithful to this congregation in remarkable, overflowing ways. God has given us the finest wine. The goodness of God in our grandparents’ lives, our parents’ lives, our lives, our children’s lives, our grandchildrens’ lives is not bland or superficial. It is deep, full-bodied, and profoundly satisfying, if only we let it.

When I was serving a small congregation in Baltimore after their pastor left, long story short, they had to learn a few things, including that they had to provide Communion bread. And the first week I presided at the table, out came the wafers. You might know those wafers - the paper-thin, flavorless, plastic-textured wafers. And I don’t know about you, but I would rather skip Communion than down the hatch on those.

The next time Communion was scheduled, I made them get challah bread. You know - soft, braided challah bread. Pillowy, airy, lightly sweet from honey. Then, after I broke the bread, I administered it by intinction, where people came forward, and dipped bread in the cup. But! I didn’t let congregants rip their own bread - I did it for them. And for a congregation of 15, with a full loaf of challah bread, I was determined we were going to polish it off. As people came forward, chhck, a huge chunk of bread. Chhck, a huge chunk of bread.

Not only did it get people to stop talking, it was also fun, full of laughter, and delicious. That was the most lively Communion I had seen in the congregation, some sparks that flew after a season of pain.

At the wedding at Cana, plastered on this front cover of Jesus’ ministry, is a simple truth embodied in that moment of Communion. A colleague says it this way: “Take as much bread as you need; take as much grace as you want.”

The incarnation and goodness of Christ brings us huge chunks of challah bread and huge chunks of grace. Water is turned into the finest wine; the most hopeless become friends of God; the lowly are lifted up; the hungry and thirsty are satisfied.

This front cover of Jesus’ life and ministry shows us images of people eating delicious, free, hot meals rather than canned beans or austere, watery soup.

The front cover of Jesus’ life and ministry shows us images of people learning to read for the first time, practicing their English, and gaining stability because of it.

The front cover of Jesus’ life and ministry shows us homebound members with chunks of challah in their hands and cards arriving in their mailboxes.

We envision a community of Newton and a community in Sussex County that is more connected, more alive, more stable, more enfranchised in every way. We see the thirst of ourselves, our neighbors, and our children being satisfied not with inebriation and drunkenness, but living water of Christ that quenches their thirsts and brings joy and celebration and laughter to a fevered pitch.

That is what’s on the front cover of Jesus’ ministry thanks to the incarnation, and that’s what’s rooted in this wedding at Cana.

[In Christ,] we envision a community of Newton and a community in Sussex County that is more connected, more alive, more stable, more enfranchised in every way.

Henri Nouwen wrote this: "Do you know the incarnate God? In our world of loneliness and despair, there is an enormous need for people who know the heart of God, a heart that forgives, that cares, that reaches out and wants to heal."

Jesus gives us this front cover at Cana. But we have to keep writing new pages in the story of God’s grace. Nouwen suggests a starting place: hearts that forgive, that care, that reaches out, that heals.

This week, I saw a few new pages. Deacons came together for a meeting that was full of laughter and commitment. I sat with the Discipleship and Nurture Committee as they thought intentionally and carefully about what we need to live our faith. I spent time at the Manna House spaghetti dinner, where neighbors met neighbors, and where people of every background enjoyed connection with one another.

Committee meetings, shared meals, and mid-week service are places where we join Jesus at the wedding in Cana and write ourselves onto the story of Jesus’ incarnate ministry. Those seemingly mundane moments are where connectedness takes root and becomes alive, growing hands and feet and moving us to live as people of faith marked by joy.

Friends, let this wedding at Cana be a sign to you, this day. Find an organization to serve. Join a committee here. Get dinner with friends, or plan a party. But whatever you may be stirred to do, please—please!—take however much grace you want. Taste and see the goodness of God, and take as much as you can.

Sources

Karoline Lewis, “Commentary on John 2:1-11,” 20 January 2013, Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-john-21-11-4

Henri Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership (Spring Valley NY: Crossroad Publishing Company 1989).

Michael Cuppett

Michael is a Minister of Word and Sacrament in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) and the installed pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Newton. He holds Master of Divinity (M.Div.) and Master of Arts in Christian Education and Formation (M.A.C.E.F.) degrees from Princeton Theological Seminary.

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