John 2:1-11
Rev. Dr. Deborah L. Clark
November 14, 2021
There was a lot going on. A lot of pain. A lot of greed and injustice. A lot of rage and despair. Rome, an overwhelmingly powerful occupying force, was brutal in the way it put down any challenge to its authority. Some people figured out how to ally with Rome and gained prestige and wealth from the occupation. Others fought back, with horrifying consequences. The occupation intensified existing social divisions—the gap between rich and poor, between those who were included and those who were ostracized. All that on top of the pain that’s just part of being human—illness, loss, disappointment, death.
Into this time of distress, Jesus came to do God’s work. He healed the sick. He fed hungry people. He called out greed and injustice and hypocrisy. He broke down barriers and created a new kind of community.
Each of our gospel writers tells the story of Jesus’ ministry in their own way, reflecting what they believed their community most needed to hear. John’s gospel stands out as significantly different from the other three. What unique perspective was John trying to convey by the way he told the story of Jesus?
While the other three gospels include dozens of miracles, John limits himself to seven—each one carefully chosen to convey a truth about Jesus, a truth about the nature of God. Today’s reading—the miracle of water transformed into wine—is the first of the seven John chooses. The very first act of Jesus’ ministry, as John tells the story, is a miracle that enables a party—a celebration of the joy and the power of love.
Jesus takes something basic—water—and transforms it into something extravagant—wine. It’s not really about the wine, and it might be helpful to re-imagine this story with a different drink that also evokes a sense of celebration. Imagine Jesus turning water into sparkling cider or pumpkin latte, or how about into a giant chocolate fountain. …..
With his choice of this miracle as the first story he tells, John is saying something fundamental about our faith. Our faith, at its core, is a celebration of the power of love, God’s love reflected in our love. God’s love is not just enough to keep us going; it is over-the-top, extravagant, more than we could ever imagine. John put this story first because he wanted his congregation members to read the other stories—stories of conflict and struggle, illness, suffering and death—through the lens of a faith rooted in joy. He put it first because he understood that in the fractured world in which they lived, it was hard to claim the power of love. It was hard to start from joy. He knew his community needed a dramatic re-orientation of their perspective.
It seems to me that almost every week I preach, I say something like, “It feels as though this scripture was written especially for us in this time.” Today I say it again. This story is for us, now. It is an invitation—a challenge—to shift our perspective, to awaken to a new starting point for our lives and our faith. It calls us to start from joy, to start with a celebration of love.
That’s not easy to do these days. We are so acutely aware of injustice and suffering, of our society’s divisiveness, our planet’s vulnerability, our human brokenness. It’s all we hear about, and it is all very real. Sometimes it leads us to frantic desperation: we can’t figure out what to do, so we run in circles until we collapse in exhaustion. Other times we give up, falling into despair or trying to narrow our vision so we don’t see what we don’t know how to fix.
Amidst the pain and injustice and uncertainty that surround us, what does it mean to ground our faith in joyous celebration of love?
It’s tempting to settle for easy answers to this question. “Don’t worry; be happy.” “Look on the bright side of life.” “Accentuate the positive.” “Eat, drink and be merry.” No. That’s not what this water-into-wine story is about. Jesus joined in a party. Then he healed a leper. Then he railed at injustice. Then he wept. Then he faced execution for refusing to compromise his message of the power of God’s love. Then he rose, love’s ultimate victory.
The joy Jesus calls us to is not a denial of the reality of pain and struggle; it is a choice to trust in the promise that God’s love is at work. This joy emerges as we dare to claim that even the smallest act of compassion is part of something bigger, something more wondrous than we can ever comprehend. This joy breaks through when we recognize our capacity to love—as imperfect as it is—as a precious gift from God, cause for celebration.
After church this morning, we will gather back in the sanctuary—or in our zoom room—for a congregational meeting. The Stewardship Team, with Nicola’s support, has put together a slide show in celebration of the ways we experience and share God’s love. As the team put it together, we kept remembering more things to include, and we kept adding more slides. A picture took shape in my mind, from my favorite baptism children’s sermon. Remember back in August, when we had the children pour water into a pitcher resting on the ground? They filled it up. “Keep going,” I said. They did. The water overflowed, pouring out to nourish the Rousseau-Tanner grass. This, we all proclaimed, is what God’s love is like.
Today’s scripture invites us to take that image a step further. It’s not just water poured out to quench the thirst of our parched world; it’s wine—or sparkling cider, or chocolate—poured out to bring joy to our world. The slides you will see today are an expression of God’s love overflowing in this church—an abundance of compassion shared with the world, healing balm flowing, passion for justice bursting forth, cookies and music and love spilling over in celebration.
Next Sunday, Thanksgiving Sunday, we will dedicate the pledges we make to support the mission of our church in the coming year. This week, we ask you to think and pray, to talk with your loved ones and ponder how you can support our church. Then I invite you to let your thinking and praying, your talking and pondering be a celebration of love. Make your decision, your commitment, in celebration of the ways you have experienced God’s love through the love of this church, in celebration of the promise that the love in this church overflows to bring hope, healing and joy to our world. Thanks be to God. Amen.