SERMON FOR JANUARY 16, 2022    THE WEDDING AT CANA                TEXT: JOHN 2:1-11

          Today marks the 103rd anniversary of the ratification of the 18th Amendment, which prohibited “the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors within, the importation thereof into, or the exportation thereof from the United States and all territory subject to the jurisdiction thereof for beverage purposes.” It did not bar the actual consumption of alcohol, but it’s difficult to consume what the supply chain is no longer legally able to deliver. The ratification of the 21st Amendment on December 3, 1933, repealed the 18th, ending “the increasingly unpopular nationwide prohibition of alcohol.” It returned the control of liquor laws back to the states, which could legally bar alcohol sales across an entire state or allow counties and municipalities to decide whether to be “wet,” “dry,” or “moist.” Today 33 states, including all of New England, allow localities to go “dry.”    As this history shows, the consumption of alcoholic beverages has long been a fraught issue in our society, and for good reason. It precipitates physical addiction in some people. It encourages self-medication in others, masking deeper problems at best and more often exacerbating them. Demon drink is the ready enabler to the demons that lurk within — self-destructive impulses, rage and violence.           

          On the face of it Jesus’ action in this story seems trivial. When we think of his mighty acts recorded in the Gospels, what comes to mind is his feeding the hungry, healing the blind, the lame and the demon-possessed, even raising the dead. There is no immediate danger to anyone’s health or life at the Cana event. Indeed, given what we know, one could argue that fueling the alcoholic flames may well cause a problem. There must have been some guests at that wedding in Cana who for their own good should have been cut off long before the wine ran out. From that perspective, Jesus’ action seems ill-advised rather than simply frivolous.

          But Jesus is addressing a different dilemma, one that would have serious consequences for these first-century revelers. Their community ties were woven and sustained by the practices of hospitality, the respect shown and shared in table fellowship. Given the marriage customs of the time, it is clear that the couple and their families were in danger of losing face and giving offense. The celebration would last several days, and although the hosts weren’t expected to offer a top-of-the-line product throughout, they were expected to have stores enough to keep the wine flowing for the duration of the gathering. “[T]he mother of Jesus said to him, ‘They have no wine.’” There is something straightforwardly neighborly and kind about Jesus’ response to the situation. He nips the problem in the bud, before it can cause his hosts any public embarrassment or give offense to members of their community.    His action proves to be no small thing after all.   

          John calls the extraordinary works Jesus performs signs rather than miracles. The second part of John’s Gospel is constructed around seven of them; the changing of water into wine during the wedding at Cana is the first, the raising of Lazarus from the dead is the last. Usually the sign is followed by a discourse, a kind of commentary from Jesus putting the sign in context and drawing out its deeper meaning for his audience, but that is not the case with the changing of water into wine. So what does this sign point to? What does it tell us about Jesus? There is the Lord’s remarkable generosity. With the amount of water in jars of that size, Jesus provided the equivalent of 1,000 bottles of the finest wine to celebrate the marriage. He does not simply give, he gives in abundance. As John writes, “From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace” (1:16). This also resonates with the biblical imagery for the coming of the kingdom of God, often portrayed as a sumptuous feast. On All Saints Day we heard this passage from Isaiah: “On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all people a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear. . . . [H]e will swallow up death forever. Then the Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth . . . .” (25:6-8).

          Today’s reading from Isaiah uses marriage as an image for God’s redemption of the people: “For Zion's sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem's sake I will not rest, until her vindication shines out like the dawn, and her salvation like a burning torch. The nations shall see your vindication, and all the kings your glory; and you shall be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will give. You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God. You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate; but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land Married; for the Lord delights in you, and your land shall be married. For as a young man marries a young woman, so shall your builder marry you, and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you” (62:1-5).    When Jesus provides the good wine for the celebration of a marriage, he identifies himself with God’s promise. Moreover, he performs this sign on the third day of the wedding, turning the action into a foreshadowing, pointing, as do all the signs in John’s Gospel, to his death and resurrection, when God turns the common stuff of mortal humanity into the finest gift of eternal life.

          Through all this the exchange between Jesus and his mother is intriguing. She is the one who picks up on the wine problem and brings it to her son’s attention. At first he doesn’t regard this as their concern. He tells her, “My hour has not yet come.” Apparently it was not his intention to get the ball rolling at this moment, to perform the first sign that would lead inexorably to his death. But Mary knows her son; she is confident that Jesus will do the right thing. She doesn’t argue with him. She simply turns to the servants and advises them to do whatever he tells them. He does not disappoint her. He adjusts his plan and changes his timetable to accommodate her wishes and the wedding couple’s situation. It is a small gesture that reveals both the quality of Jesus’ humanity and God’s openness to us and our often untimely need. There is something reassuring about the setting of this first sign. According to John, Jesus inaugurates his public ministry in the midst of a celebration with family, friends and neighbors, and he does so by attending to their joy. Amen.