First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell
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 you and to me? 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 chief steward.” So they took it. When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward 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.
I grew up in a very dry household. But not all my relatives were abstainers. This created a certain tension in the family, that sometimes bubbled over into conflict.
Like the day when I was 10 years old, and my grandmother drove me to my aunt and uncle’s house while they were at work. Her express purpose that day was to rid their home of all alcohol. And so, without a moment’s hesitation, my grandmother poured over 20 bottles of wine and spirits down the drain. And then she carefully rinsed all those bottles and lined them up on the counter, with a prominent note, taking full responsibility for what she had done. You can imagine the reaction. But until the day she died, my grandmother believed she had done her son and daughter-in-law a great favor.
Now lest you think that my grandmother’s actions were just some fundamentalist obsession, I remind you that the 19th century temperance movement in America had a very strong ally in the Congregational churches. For us, it was a social justice issue. The reformers of the day looked at the conditions of women and children, often abused and neglected by drunken husbands and fathers, and decided that the demon rum had to go.
They would quote bible verses like Ephesians 5:18: “Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit…” But here’s the thing: for every verse like that one, there are three more about wine as a source of joy and gladness. In Scripture, wine is often a metaphor for the blessings of God and for the new life we are given in Jesus Christ. And then there’s this: our Lord’s public ministry began with a veritable baptism in wine!
Jesus and Mary and the disciples had been invited to a wedding in Cana of Galilee, about 9 miles northwest of their home in Nazareth. We don’t know any of the particulars of who was getting married that day and why Jesus and company were invited. But we do know something about weddings in first century Palestine.
First of all, unlike today’s affairs, in which guest lists are endlessly fretted over, in Jesus’ day there was no guest list because the whole village was invited. No one was excluded. And because no one was excluded, people you didn’t like would be there. And that’s why wedding feasts were seen as prime time to make peace with your enemies. No doubt the wine helped.
Additionally, these wedding celebrations went on for days to the delight of all who attended them. You see, people in the first century worked very hard and died very young and sometimes were very hungry. So, when they had a chance to celebrate with plenty of good food and wine, it was a respite from their daily lives.
But at this particular wedding, disaster struck. The wine ran out. This was a huge embarrassment to the hosts, a bad omen for the couple, and spelled the end of the party for everyone else. And so, Blessed Mary intervened. She leaned over to her son and in a tense whisper said: “The wine has run out.”
But the response she got from Jesus seems a little cheeky to me: “Woman, what is that to you and to me? My hour has not come.” The implication is that Jesus had a carefully laid ministry plan, and supplying hooch to a wedding was not part of it. But his mother was undeterred. She ignored his protests and said to the servants: “Just do whatever he tells you.”
In the house there were six stone water jars – huge things that held 20-30 gallons each. They were used for the customary Jewish ritual of purification. Jesus told the servants to be sure that each one was filled right up to the brim. And then he said: “Now, take some of this to the chief steward and ask him to taste it.” When the steward took a sip, he dashed off to find the groom. “Sir,” he said, “I just don’t get it. Most people serve the very best wine first, and put out the cheap stuff when everyone is drunk. But not you! You saved the best for last!”
And John concludes the story like this: “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.”
Isn’t that wonderful? The very first sign, the first miracle that Jesus ever did was to make people merry; to bring joy and gladness to everyday folks. And if that was his first sign, then what might that say about the mission of his Body, the church?
Making people merry… Do you imagine that that the first thing that comes to people’s minds when they hear the word “church?” Or do they think of words like “guilt” or “obligation” or “irrelevant” or “boring?”
University of Chicago theologian Robert Hotchkins argues that making merry is a primary mission of the church. “Christians ought to be celebrating constantly. We ought to be preoccupied with parties, banquets, feasts, and merriment. We ought to give ourselves to veritable orgies of joy because we have been liberated from the fear of life and the fear of death.”[1]
So, how do we do that? Well, I think a good place to start is with this story.
The most obvious take-away for the church is that the whole village was invited to the wedding. There were no exclusions, spoken or unspoken. That meant that the grumpy old man and the village prostitute and the tax collector and the pious and the skeptics and the foreigners were all on the guest list; all at the table together.
In this world of increasing tribalism and divisions and anger and scapegoating, that is still a very powerful message. The church is that one place where the unity and equality of the whole human family are proclaimed without equivocation. This particular congregation has made a covenant - the highest of all agreements - to explicitly welcome all. Being Open and Affirming is nice thing to say about ourselves, but it’s up to us to put flesh and bone to it every day.
Second, the wedding banquet was a place for enemies to put aside their differences and to make peace. And so is the church. The church is that place where we purposefully leave our animosity at the door. We leave our loud opinions at home. And we practice listening to the stories of those who do not see the world like we do. And we are not afraid of honest conversations. And we sing together and pray together and we drink from the same cup together. And we do all of this with people so different from us that, if we do it right, the rest of the world will think we’re crazy.
Finally, church is where we practice radical abundance and generosity. When Jesus made the wine, there was no scarcity. Do you honestly think that wine ever gave out for the rest of the party? And it was the very best. But these qualities are not dominant in our world. Instead, what we hear again and again and again is that the wine will run out; that the wone has already run out, that we must fearfully protect what it ours.
But that is a lie. Because when Jesus makes the wine of gladness, and the wine of love, and the wine of peace, and the wine of forgiveness, and the wine of humility - the more you drink it, the more you have.
And if that doesn’t make us merry, nothing will.
[1] Robert M. Brearley, “John 2:1-11, Pastoral Perspective.” Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 260.


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