Weddings—I love weddings. In my younger days weddings of friends
were big, fancy parties where we renewed high school and college acquaintances.
Family weddings, then and now, are opportunities to re-live memories, to get a
glimpse into the history of family relationships, and to make new memories. Weddings are celebrations that I eagerly
await and remember fondly later.
Are weddings like that for you?
Just last Sunday we all clapped when we heard of DN and AS’s
engagement. I suspect some of us
were thinking ahead . . . to an upcoming wedding . . . a celebration to look
forward to.
Last
June, my family traveled to Texas for the wedding of my older nephew. Arriving in the small south Texas town early
Friday afternoon, we were invited to the reception site to meet the bride’s Jeannie’s
family. Her mom, sisters, best
friend, and dad were there—completing the decorating. Her grandmother was putting the finishing touches on the
wedding cake. She’s baked and
decorated the wedding cakes of all her grandchildren. And Virginia, the grandmother’s
best friend was there, too. She
was making a list of how things would be set out the next day and noting where “extras”
were being stored. Since she is
not family, she planned to come to the reception hall right after the wedding—and
be an unofficial hostess as guests made their way from the church while the
after-wedding pictures were being taken.
Virginia would keep an eye out during the reception so that Jeannie’s
family could truly enjoy Steve and Jeannie’s special day.
Weddings—I
love weddings. I have such high
expectations—of a beaming bride and groom, of a lovely ceremony, of a happy
celebration—I have such high expectations of weddings, but often something goes
wrong. Has that ever happened at a
wedding you attended or planned?
Did something go wrong?
Like widespread flooding on the day of your beautiful outdoor wedding or
the groom, delayed in a traffic accident, arriving hours later, hobbling in
sporting a still-damp cast?
Something goes wrong at the wedding in Cana—the drinks run dry. And like Virginia at Steve and Jeannie’s
reception, Jesus’ mother, close friend of the family, steps in to avert
disaster. She turns to Jesus and places
the situation in his hands. She
sets the stage for the miracle this text relates—the miracle of turning water
into wine.
The
evangelist, John, offers this miracle at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry for
theological reasons. In the
miracle, Jesus changes water into wine.
In his ministry, Jesus will re-introduce hospitality and vigor to what
had become a closed-off religion.
It is a theology of inclusion rather than exclusion. The miracle sets the stage for Jesus’
ministry of celebrating “people—people getting married, people being healed of
disease and deformity, people enjoying meals together.”[1] It is a theology of joy rather than drudgery.
At
the wedding, the drinks run dry.
In the miracle Jesus changes water into wine—150 gallons of water into
150 gallons of wine! It is a
theology of abundance rather than
scarcity.
The steward praises it as the best wine. It is a theology of quality—God offers the best rather than
just making do. In the miracle,
Jesus changes water into wine—using the stone jars on hand and easily
accessible water. It is a theology
that from the resources at hand, God will provide.
The
gospel-writer, John, calls this miracle a sign, drawing our attention away from
the water-turned-into-wine and re-focusing us on the one who brought the
abundance—the one whose ministry would be a celebration of God’s ever-flowing
grace. The miracle is a sign,
focusing on Jesus, pointing out who Jesus is—the one from whose fullness we
have all received grace upon grace.”[2]
While
Jesus performed this miraculous sign, it is a miracle that depended on the
servers. Instructed by Mary to do whatever Jesus tells them, they obey.
The drink has run dry. They don’t
second-guess Jesus about the ceremonial hand-washing jars when it’s the wine casks that are empty. The servers
don’t question Jesus about using water
when it’s wine we’ve been drinking.
Jesus says fill the hand-washing jars with water. And the servers fill the jars to the
brim. Jesus says fill the drink
pitchers from the hand-washing jar.
And the servers dip the pitchers in the stone jars. Jesus says take this to the steward. And the servers carry water? for wine?? to the table . . . And the steward, who was probably
thinking, I just love weddings, but something always seems to go wrong, and I
think they’re running out of wine here—the steward takes a sip, and it’s the best
wine he’s tasted in years!It was a miracle—a miracle of abundance—and a miracle
of faithfulness, a miracle of obedience.
We
often experience abundance at weddings—the abundance of good wishes and support
offered by family and friends, the abundance of memory-making and
memory-reliving, the abundance of hope and expectation for the couple’s future,
the abundance of food and drink, of noise and laughter.
As
at the wedding in Cana, I believe we have experienced a miracle of abundance
here at First Presbyterian Church, Paola, KS. The occasion of our annual congregational meeting is an
appropriate time to look back on the previous year. We celebrate a miracle of abundance—of quantity and
quality. In 2012, we had more opportunities to serve, study, worship, and
play together. In 2012 we
grew deeper in faith—some of us in small group Bible study, some of us in private
daily devotionals, some of us in re-newed mission work, some of us at camp.
On
this occasion, we celebrate a miracle of generosity. Heeding God’s call to share in
abundance, through our gifts to a matching grant—“Kids for Camp”—we sent 3 of
our children to Heartland Summer Camp and 3 of our “tweens” to the fall Tween
retreat—the first of our children to attend overnight camps in several
years. On this occasion, we
celebrate miracles of abundance and
obedience. It was determined
our exterior needed a major, unplanned restoration—tuck-pointing.
God provided through the generosity of 3
designated gifts and an unexpected inheritance.
We
began 2012 with a budget deficit and a determination to be faithful to God’s
call to mission and ministry in this community—regardless. And God provided. Guiding us in using
our resources wisely, giving us faith to continue the work God calls us to do here,
and working through various individuals in the congregation who responded to
God’s generosity in their lives with extra gifts, God provided. We celebrate a miracle of
abundance. We began the year with
a budget deficit, and God provided
so that we ended the year with an actual
surplus.
The
steward thought the host had brought out a cache of quality wine that he had
hidden until mid-way through the reception. But the servers recognized the miracle with which they had
conspired. And the disciples accepted
the miracle to which they were privy. Like the disciples, may our eyes be
opened to see the miracles God will work in 2013. Like the servers, may we respond to Jesus’ commands—and be
agents of miracle-making. May we
place ourselves in the context of a wedding feast, celebrating what God has already done and expecting that God will do even more. May we be freed from the perception of “running out” and may
we live in the reality of God’s abundance. Amen.
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