Lectionary Readings
Isaiah 62: 3-5; I Corinthians 12: 4-11; John 2: 1-11
On this inauguration day, the
lectionary offers scriptures that remind us of times we figuratively raise our
right hands to make promises. Two
readings speak of marriage. A third emphasizes the way the church holds diverse
people together in a covenant of unity without uniformity. Whether we raise our
right hand in reciting an oath of office, or hold another’s hand in speaking
vows of love, or utter words of covenantal commitment within a church setting,
we are part of what Martin Luther King, Jr. called “an inescapable network of
mutuality.”
Our Gospel reading for today
will outline our guided meditation. As I read aloud this passage, I’ll interject
commentary every few verses—and occasional pauses for silent reflection. But
let me set up this familiar story of the wedding at Cana by saying what this story
is NOT about. This is not a story that
upholds “traditional” marriage. The Johannine community which passed down this
story did not share our values and traditions about marriage. It’s always amusing to hear people calling for
a return to biblical family values, which, of course, would include polygamy,
incest, sex slaves, temple prostitution, fratricide, patricide, arranged
marriages, women as property, execution of disobedient children, and all manner
of deceit and dysfunction. This story, sometimes read at weddings to suggest
that Jesus endorsed our marriage traditions, actually puts the institution of
marriage way in the background. This is not a story specifically about marriage;
it is about covenant relationships in general.
Listen for the ordinariness within this story, maybe even some
humor. Listen for themes of human
relatedness and responsibility. And
follow with me as I take this passage a few verses at a time:
1On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of
Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. 2Jesus and his disciples
had also been invited to the wedding.
Did you notice that Jesus and
his mother are named in separate sentences?
The story does not say, “The mother of Jesus, and Jesus, and his
disciples attended a wedding.” It says Jesus’s mother was at the wedding. Jesus and his disciples were also
invited. That almost sounds as if the
bride sent one invitation addressed to “The Mother of Jesus” and sent another
invitation addressed to “Jesus—and up to twelve guests.” This story about relationships puts some
grammatical distance between mother and son at the start. (By the way, this is the first of only two
times Mary will be mentioned in John’s Gospel, the second time being at the
foot of the cross. And John never
mentions her by name.)
Take a moment to picture
Jesus arriving at the wedding feast with his friends. Picture Jesus enjoying the food, the wine,
the interactions.
3When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to
him, “They have no wine.”
With what tone do you imagine
Mary said this simple sentence? Is she
distressed and shaking Jesus by the lapels of his . . . robe? Is she complaining . . . as she lifts her
empty wine glass disapprovingly? Is she
using the universal mother code to order a child to do something while seeming
to make a simple observation? “Son . . .
they have no wine . . . . Well?”
After you hear Jesus’s reply,
you might agree with me she’s probably telling him to do something.
4And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what concern is that to
you and to me? My hour has not yet come.”
“Mother, why should WE get
involved?” he says. “It’s my day off.” Indeed, why would wedding guests have to
find more wine for the other guests?
Besides, isn’t this kind of problem too small for the Son of God? “My hour has not yet come” might even mean
that he’s not sure the timing or situation is right for offering what John will
term the first of many signs and wonders.
But ready or not, Jesus’s hand is forced. He’s about to do something that will make
people sit up and take notice. Mary apparently perceived his change of heart
because she tells the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” His mother had faith that her son would
help—and now tells the servants they, too, should trust him and thus should do
what he tells them to do.
On the surface, Mary may seem
to us to be “overfunctioning.” But in that culture, friends of the family often
helped host a week-long wedding feast, so maybe Mary did bear responsibility.
On the surface, Mary may seem concerned with superficial social approval.
But in the ancient Near East culture, failure to extend customary hospitality
would bring shame upon the extended family and all associated with them. This is a story about shared
responsibility. This is a story about
covenant.
The backdrop to the story is
the covenant a bride and groom made to one another three days earlier with
their wedding vows. But the heart of the
story is about the implicit covenant that binds together a family and that
family’s network of friends. In that
culture, the honor of one extends to all in that group; the shame of one is
shared by the others. There are implicit
responsibilities one has to one’s group.
Consider what responsibilities
you feel toward the network of relationships that is this faith community.
We return to the story:
5His
mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” 6Now
standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification,
each holding twenty or thirty gallons. 7Jesus said to them, “Fill
the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. 8He said
to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it.
9When 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 10and 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.”
I think there’s more humor
here. We’re in on the joke. The
water-turned-wine not only passes as wine—it’s better than the wine first
served, which customarily is the best.
If I were dramatizing this scene, I’d have the servants, who know this
wine was water minutes ago, laughing behind their hands to hear the
steward’s--a wine connoisseur’s--naive praise.
Lest we think Jesus is
launching a ministry to protect social and religious conventions, we note that
the water he used was intended for religious purification rites—for ascetic
purposes. But it has been converted to wine intended for celebratory purposes.
This is Jesus reforming a religious system that had focused on delineating who
is in and who is out, who is pure and who is not. Jesus fills the jars that once held purifying
waters with celebratory wine, a wine of finest quality and of extravagant
abundance. No one will go without.
What Jesus offers is rooted
in his culture’s traditions, is consistent with ancient covenants between the
God of Israel and the descendants. But
John’s Jesus will preach and teach that God’s lavish love extends to the whole
world. (He’ll say that explicitly in the next chapter. John 3:16 says God loves
the WORLD). The purification jars now
hold the best wine. The extravagant
covenant that other Gospel writers will have Jesus saying is written his blood,
symbolized by wine, is a covenant made for and with all peoples, is for the
common good.
Back to the passage in
John for the final verse.
11Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of
Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.
The gospel writer says
Jesus’s “glory” was revealed in wine-that-once-was-water. Strange to find glory in even the best of
wines. But this wine is a foil for the
soured wine he’ll be offered as he hangs on the cross. And this wine reminds us that Luke describes
the wine Jesus blesses at his last meal as the cup of “the new covenant.”
This story might seem to
reveal God at work in silly social obligations.
But the writer may be saying God’s glory is revealed in the mundane,
especially in the ordinary but powerful web of human relationships—lover and
lover, parent and child, neighbor to neighbor.
We are most fully human (and thus closest to the divine) when we are
responsibly connected, caring for one another, helping out, upholding one
another in covenantal love across our many differences and throughout life’s
difficulties. As the American hero whose
birthday we celebrate tomorrow said, “We are caught in an inescapable network
of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. What affects one directly
affects all indirectly.”
Pause now to give thanks for
relationships that connect you to God, that call forth your own selflessness,
that support you.
The passage concludes: “And
Jesus’s disciples believed in him.” Meaning simply they, like his mother, felt
assured that he would be faithful to his commitments.
We say words of commitment to
one another as a faith community from time to time. But what does it really mean to be in
covenant relationship with one another, we who are so imperfect? We’ve hurt others in the past—and have been
hurt by others in our past who have broken promises to us. We’ve perhaps even felt God has reneged on
promises of care of protection. We know
that sometimes well-intentioned people of faith can fail us, can behave badly,
might not come through for us when we need them most. Can we, like the disciples, trust that the
love of Jesus will be there for us? We
pause now for reflection:
Can we trust that the love of
God as witnessed in the life of Jesus always be there for us?
Words of assurance are found
in the song we sing together now:
Nothing in height
or in depth which befriends or befalls us,
Nothing in life
or in death which forbids or forestalls us,
Nothing can
limit the love of our savior, Jesus Christ.
(by John Bell, from There
is One Among Us)
PRAYER STATIONS
1. PRAYING AS WE GIVE OUR OFFERINGS
We express our thanks to God and join in
God’s work in the world by giving to our congregation’s and denomination’s
ministries. Giving is part of our covenantal commitment to care for
others. At Open Table we suggest making
regular gifts that reflect a percentage of your income and consider this year
increasing your giving 1% over whatever percent you gave last year. The early
church learned from Jesus and from the Jewish tradition that joy and
fulfillment come from giving and serving, and we trust in that same generosity
today.
2. PRAYING AS WE RECEIVE THE BREAD
AND CUP
We root our lives in and deepen our
commitments to the compassionate ways of Jesus when we recall his life and
death and enduring life in God through this symbolic meal. Jesus began his ministry by turning water
into wine at a celebrative wedding feast with his family and disciples. Jesus
ended his ministry by blessing wine that would foreshadow the passion of his
death. The meals we share in this community bind us together in life’s
celebrations and sorrows. The cup Jesus
shares with us now holds all of life and blesses all who come.
3. WRITING AND SHARING COVENANTAL WORDS
We make explicit and implicit pledges to
one another. In your own words, write a
brief statement on a card provided that captures at least part of a covenant
you have made to God or to this particular faith community.
I covenant with God to . . . .
I covenant with this faith community to
. . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment