“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.” (John 2:10)
So of all the ways Jesus could reveal his glory, he chooses to make 180 gallons of wine? I guess for some wine connoisseurs that might be pretty darn glorious, but for the rest of us, doesn’t it seem a little trivial? I mean, couldn’t he have started out with feeding the 5,000 or making a blind beggar see or casting out a demon? Alleviating hunger, sickness, or poverty seems to be much more in keeping with the Christian mission than just letting some party-goers continue to have a good time.
Elisabeth Johnson, a professor at the Lutheran Institute of Theology in Meiganga, Cameroon, asked this question in her article for this week’s Working Preacher website where she discussed the gospel lesson appointed in the RCL for Epiphany 2, Year C (John 2: 1-11). I trust Professor Johnson will allow me to paraphrase her thoughts a bit when I say she characterizes this act as not so much of a “miracle” but as a “sign.” The word John uses in verse 11 is semeion (shmeiwn is the way it looks in Greek in case you’re interested[i]) which could literally translate as “sign” like a stop sign. It’s something which identifies something else. Turning water to wine was not in itself the big deal. Even Jesus didn’t seem to think the beverage situation was all that crucial. The real point is the action of transformation identified Jesus as the one who does the transforming. Of course, nobody in this story seems to pick up on this except the disciples and few of the caterer’s staff who bring the wine to the sommelier.
Professor Johnson also points out that wine in scripture has been used as a symbol for joy and celebration.[ii] I guess there’s nothing wrong with Jesus’ first awe-inspiring act being one which brings joy instead of one which brings relief from suffering. It’s pretty easy for some Christians—even us pastors—to get all hung up on incarnational ministry and forget that the joy of the Lord is our strength.[iii] Sometimes you just have to cut loose and party.
But what if you’re all partied out? What if there’s no earthly reason to celebrate? What if you’re sick and frickin’ tired of COVID, you’re broke, you’re bored, and your health is in the toilet? What if the party’s over?
Yeah, it’s pretty easy to look at the world and wonder as Merle Haggard did, “Are the good times really over for good?”[iv] If we are willing to surrender all faith, all hope in the transformative power of God, then I’d guess the good times are over. If we wish to pine for what is lost instead of being grateful for what we have, then we can shut off the lights and go home. If we revel in our misery, make fault-finding our hobby, and judge every situation by our own standards while forgetting that God’s view is larger and grander than our puny imaginations, then we’re stuck drinking sour wine.
Joy, true joy, doesn’t come from either us or our circumstances. It comes from God. Our challenge is always to learn to demand less yet expect more. I encourage you to pray for irrational joy and the faith to believe that what lies ahead may be just as wonderful as or even more wonderful than that which you’ve already experienced.
In anticipation of how God is changing and transforming us in to wiser, more grateful, and more insightful servants of his grace, we’re throwing a small party this Sunday. Wine will be served.
May God’s joy flow though you abundantly!
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