The sign of Jesus glory.

John 2:1-12:
St Peter’s Lutheran Church, Port Macquarie

Organising major events is not easy. Just over three years ago our family was organising the wedding of our daughter Chelsea. The fact that it was taking place in the midst of Covid chaos, not knowing if it would be cancelled at the last moment, did not help. In the end we had restrictions on the number attending, had to have special approval to have a reception on private property (our home) and had to ensure everyone remained 1.5 metres apart. If this was not challenging enough, both the wedding and the reception were to be held outdoors. As the wedding was in early December, the chances of warm, dry weather were very good. In the end, it turned out to be one of coldest, wettest and windiest December days on record. Almost nothing that had been organised was able to proceed as planned.

Now spare a thought for those organising the wedding held in Cana in Galilee, a small village visible from Nazareth. Jewish wedding celebrations of the time, especially those held in small towns and villages, often ran for several days. Food wine and musicians were organized well in advance. There was no local Coles or Foodland to run off to if anything was forgotten or found to be in short supply. At these weddings one of the most important aspects was the provision of wine. This often came out in courses and it was such an important part of the celebrations that a chief steward was appointed, something like a master of ceremonies, whose job was to check the quality of each new batch of wine, propose a toast, and see that it was distributed. To run short of wine was a tremendous social embarrassment. It would have been seen as a failure of hospitality, held to be a sacred duty in the ancient Near-East. It was the kind of mistake that no one in such a small community would ever forget. But that is exactly what happened in the story of the wedding at Cana.

How did this disaster occur? We do not know all the facts, but one thing we do know. One of the wedding guests had just made at least five new disciples in the three or four days preceding the wedding and showed up with them all in tow. There were no mobile phones or emails so of course Jesus could not call ahead as he made his way from Bethany beyond the Jordan and then to Bethsaida before heading home to Nazareth and the wedding in the nearby village of Cana. When Jesus showed up with the group, with his mother either a close relative or friend of the family, they would have had little choice but to invite and welcomes them all. Of course, the disaster was not entirely the fault of Jesus and his disciples. If five extra people showing up at a wedding caused the wine to run out early, then the organisers were clearly cutting things a bit too fine in their calculations.

However the situation came about, it was a major disaster for the bride and groom. Mary, who was clearly part of the wedding planning group, was one of the few to learn of the problem. Not even the master of ceremonies had yet been told. And Mary goes straight to her son Jesus. Does she do this because his bringing along so many extra guests had contributed to the problem? Does she do this because, even though Jesus had not yet used his divine power in any miraculous way, she knew he was the only one who could intervene? Perhaps a bit of both elements were in play.

What we do know is that Mary goes to her son and says simply, ‘They have no wine.’ The problem could not be more pointedly or clearly stated.

At this point the exchange between Mary and Jesus becomes a little perplexing – at least for the modern reader. Jesus responds to his mother by saying, ‘Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.’

Firstly, we need to deal with the fact Jesus seems to be speaking a bit rudely here to his mother. But this is not the case. The problem is more one of translation. There are many examples from the ancient world of people addressing their mother in this way. Josephus tells of a man who was very fond of his wife calling her ‘Woman,’ Odysseus in Homer’s Odessy calls his wife Penelope ‘Woman’, and Caesar addresses Cleopatra as ‘Woman.’ It is also a word Jesus uses once more in John’s Gospel when he speaks to his mother from the cross. Because we do not speak this way in modern English, there is no good way to translate this. The meaning and tone of what Jesus says here is probably best preserved if we simply leave off the word ‘Woman.’

The next difficulty is that Jesus now uses another phrase that does not translate well. Literally, he says ‘What do you have to do with me?’, but all would agree that it means something like, ‘What does this have to do with us?’ or ‘What concern is that ours?’ And some even that it means something like, ‘Why worry about this. I will take care of it.’

The second part of Jesus’ response to his mother is also somewhat perplexing. He says, ‘My hour has not yet come.’  Jesus often uses this phrase to speak of his coming death. But he also uses it to denote the beginning of his public ministry. Mary simply told Jesus they were out of wine. Is he assuming that she is implying that he should use his divine power, which he has not previously used, at this time? Is he explaining why he is not going to intervene at this point? Most would agree that with only five of his disciples chosen, and none of them with him for even a week, it is too early to launch into signs and wonders. This will start rumours, draw crowds, and accelerate the timetable for his ministry.

In summary, almost everything Jesus says to his mother in response to her informing him of the seriously embarrassing problem with the wedding celebrations, is a bit perplexing. But none of it is as perplexing as Mary’s response. She simply turns to the servants, who likely followed her to the table where Jesus was sitting, and says to them, ‘Do whatever he asks you to do.’

So Jesus basically tells his mother that the shortage of wine is not their concern, then explains why he is not in a position to do anything about it, as it is not yet his time to begin to reveal who he is. And Mary seems to ignore everything he has just said, indeed, acts as if he had just said, ‘Thanks for letting me know about this problem, Mum. I will take care of it.’ And she simply tells the servants to follow his instructions.

Well, you have heard the rest of the story. Jesus asks them to fill with water six large stone jars used to hold the water for ritual washing of hands, feet and dishes as required by Jewish law. Significantly, he did not ask them to fill the empty wine flasks with water. There certainly would have been plenty laying around. The servants do as they are asked. Then Jesus asks them to draw off some of what is in the jars and take it to master of ceremonies. He tastes it, becomes quite excited, and stops the celebrations to make a little speech commending the bridegroom for saving the very highest quality of wine for last, when the guests wouldn’t be likely to notice or care if cheaper wine were brought out.

So what is the significance of this miracle?

First, John, unlike the other gospels, does not call these actions of Jesus miracles, but rather signs, highlighting what they point to. Second, we are told that this was the very first of the signs or miracles of Jesus. And looking at the chronology of miracles in the other gospels, this would precede any recorded in them as well. So it is a very important miracle.

Also, there is clear baptismal and Lord’s supper imagery with the focus on water and wine. It is the first of a series of stories featuring water. And the six jars used to fulfil the ritual washing required by Jewish law clearly are meant to be a contrast to the approach of grace that Jesus brings,> Jesus uses vessels meant to fulfil the law to bring life and joy.

As to what the primary significance of this miracle is, the text itself points us in the right direction. John concludes his account by telling us that in performing this sign Jesus ‘revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in him.’  When John speaks of the glory of Jesus in his gospel he refers to his deity. So something about this miracle must have prompted Jesus’ first disciples, who had already come to believe Jesus was the promised Messiah, to now believe he was far more than this.

But how could this particular, seemingly mundane miracle have led them to this conclusion? In the history of New Testament studies this miracle has often come in for some heavy criticism. In many circles it was common to call it a luxury miracle because it didn’t seem to be necessary, didn’t heal anyone, didn’t show power over the devil, didn’t feed the multitudes. It simply helped a gathering of wedding guests in a small town in Galilee extend their celebrations. How much better it would have been, many suggested, if Jesus’ first miracle had been to heal someone who was lame, or give sight to a blind person, or cure someone of leprosy, or even to resuscitate someone who had died. This would have not only shown Jesus’ power in a more spectacular way, it is argued, but would have also set the tone for the compassionate nature of his ministry.

So was this a missed opportunity? A pointless miracle?

Hardly.

The Jews at Jesus’ time distinguished different categories of miracles, as seen in various Old Testament stories. First, there were miracles of healing. Second, there were miracles that showed control of nature, like the parting the Red Sea or making water flow out of stone. Third there were miracles of extension, for instance multiplying the oil and meal of the widow of Zarephath so that in never ran out. Jesus did all these kinds of miracles in his ministry. He healed the sick and even raised the dead. He walked on water and calmed the storm. And he caused few fish and loaves of bread to not run out, even for a crowd of several thousand. Every miracle that Jesus performed had a close parallel to a miracle performed by Moses or one of the prophets. Every miracle, that is, but one. This one.

This first miracle does not fit into any of these categories according the traditional Jewish understanding.  It is not a healing miracle. It is not a miracle of mere extension. If Jesus had had the empty wine vessels filled with water it might have been argued that the remaining traces of wine had been extended. By using stone water containers, this is not possible. And it is not showing simple control or nature, that is, power over elements that already exist.

But there was a final category of miracle that the Jews knew of. But they did not often consider it in their list of types of miracles because it only happened once, and is only something God himself can do. And that is a miracle of creation. Jesus creates something out of something that was not. He creates wine where there was not wine. This sign of Jesus could only be considered a miracle of creation. And in the traditional Jewish understanding, only God creates and this only happened in the account of creation recorded at the beginning of Genesis. An account John has strongly alluded to in his opening words of the gospel. So the association of God and the act of creation would be at the top of readers’ minds.

By performing this miracle first, Jesus begins his ministry not with a mundane or pointless miracle. He begins it with a miracle that shows that he is God. It is the only such miracle of creation Jesus performs. Every other miracle performed by Jesus is done to help those in need or distress. But this first miracle is different. It fits with an overarching theme of John’s gospel, which begins with the claim that the Word, or Jesus, is God. The gospel of John makes the claim the Jesus is God more often and more explicitly than any of the other gospels. It is only fitting that the first miracle, or sign, performed by Jesus and recorded by John should underscore who Jesus is. Jesus begins his ministry with a seemingly small act. But it is one that shows who he is. The creator, God himself come to us on earth.

Imagine that. The Creator of the universe cared enough to save a wedding celebration in a village in Galilee. One wonders what a God like that will do next. A God like that is a God we can believe in, like the disciples did. He is a God who cares for us in our ordinary concerns of life, both the joys and sorrows. He is a God who reveals his glory in Christ. A God who reveals his glory, his deity, in ordinary things. A God who reveals his glory and care for us, finally and indelibly, on the cross. This a God that we, too, can believe in.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.