When the Wine Runs Out

Isaiah 62:1-5; Psalm 36:5-10; 1 Corinthians 12:1-11; John 2:1-11

Paul writes to the Corinthians: “There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord, and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God that activates them in everyone.”

Paul reminds the church in Corinth that everybody is different, that God works differently in different people – and that these are unique gifts that each of us are given for the common good of the whole.  We all have different abilities, we each have our own unique way of looking at the world, and this diversity is a gift from God for the sake of everyone.

The gospel passage today is like the church – it has many characters, many perspectives, and shows us many ways of relating to Jesus and what Jesus once did at wedding reception a very long time ago. Especially with rich and complex gospel narratives like this one, one of the tools I have found helpful in reflecting on a Biblical story is to consider and name all the different characters and perspectives in the story. To ask myself, who in this story do I relate to? Which one reflects my situation, my gifts, my role in the story?

So in this passage – do you feel an affinity with the couple that is getting married? Whose wedding was way better than what they had planned, because they remembered to invite Jesus. Because they opened wide the doors of their party and their relationship and received from their hospitality so much more than they gave.

Or perhaps you can relate to the parents of the groom – who were about to be embarrassed and shamed in front of all their family and friends and their whole community, for not having enough wine to keep the party going. Whether it was an oversight on their part, or carelessness, or some accident, or maybe just their lack of resources – they just didn’t have what they wanted to have to give their child the best start in life. And then, someone came in and rescued them from the shame and embarrassment and guilt they must have felt. What a relief it must have been for them!

Or maybe you can see yourself as the wedding planner. Who, maybe, didn’t even realize there was a problem, but the problem fixed itself. Life is good, I don’t know how, but everything is good and let the show continue!

Or perhaps there are days when you have the experience of the wedding guests – hey, this wine is pretty good! I wonder where they got it. Maybe you enjoy your good fortune and never stop to wonder how it happened.

Or then there are the servers, the working stiffs who get the job of filling up thirty-gallon jugs of water and hauling them around. Who actually know what’s going on, but nobody pays enough attention to them to ask them about it. If you’ve ever felt overworked and underappreciated, you know what it’s like.

Of course there are the disciples of Jesus. Who have not been following Jesus very long, here at the start of his public ministry. They have never seen anything like this before. And they probably don’t really understand what happened – wait, weren’t those jars just filled with water? What’s going on here? What have we stumbled across? What am I being asked to be part of here? Being amazed, and wanting to know and to understand and to see more – but also being a little dazed and confused by what they’ve just witnessed.

And let’s not forget Jesus himself. Who in a very human way expresses his feeling that it’s not time yet, he’s not ready to take this thing public yet. He is being pushed by his family and the needs of others beyond what he feels ready to do, and although he eventually gives in and responds, there is a hesitancy and a questioning about Jesus here that feels very relatable to me.

And then there is the mother of Jesus, who plays such a central role in this story. There are several things about her that are worth paying attention to.

For one thing, she’s the one who notices that the wine is running out. Not everyone had noticed the problem – Jesus doesn’t seem to have noticed, probably lots of others too. Everybody else still had a glass in their hands, most people have not yet realized that the party is going to come to a crashing halt, that disappointment and embarrassment are just around the corner – but Mary sees it. And she’s worried.

Have you ever felt like you can sense that the wine has run out? The party is still going on, and maybe other people don’t see it yet, but you do.

Maybe the light has gone out of a marriage, a job, a friendship. You and everybody else are still going through the motions but you know something is missing, and you wonder if it’s safe to say something. How will people react if you name and bring out into the open what you’re feeling? Are you ready for their reaction? If you’ve ever been in a situation like that, you know how much anxiety and worry it can cause – if I say that I think the wine has run out, what next?

Or if you take our country, our society in general. We tell ourselves we live in the best country in the world, and in some ways this is an amazing and wonderful place that many people still long to come and be part of. And yet when you look at the number of people who are ready to resort to political violence, how so much of what we take for granted is threatened by climate change, by how hard it has been for us to cope with the disruptions caused by Covid. On this Martin Luther King weekend, we can see how real have been the advances in civil rights and equality in this country, and how both insufficient and fragile those advances have been. A lot of people worry today that the wine has run out and the party is going to turn ugly.

And even in the church, one can ask whether our wine has run out. It’s no secret that people today don’t have the same relationship to the church that they used to. Even in our own families we know people who just don’t find anything useful in participating in the church any more. And people can ask, did our wine run out? When did we stop providing something a lot of our neighbors wanted? And where can we get more?

On any of these questions, perhaps all of them, we can relate to Mary, the one who noticed the wine had run out, the one who sees that there are problems. What does she do?

Well, first, she brings the problem to Jesus. She knows that even if she sees a problem nobody else sees yet, it’s not her responsibility to fix the problem all by herself. She names the problem before the One she knows has the ability to help. It might seem like a formality, something that goes without saying – but identifying the problem and placing it in God’s hands is worth doing.

Next, she doesn’t try to tell Jesus what to do. Maybe she has an idea about what Jesus can do, maybe his solution to the problem surprised even her. But she knew it wasn’t her role to tell God how to fix the problem. Her spiritual gift was to sense and name the problem, and this is enough. She didn’t try to take on what wasn’t hers to do – and not having to have all the answers seems to have freed her to do what was her gift and calling to do.

And finally, she has faith that Jesus will solve the problem. I mean, when she tells Jesus that the wine has run out, he basically tells her “No.” But she knows her son better than that. So she turns to the servers and says to them, “Do whatever he tells you.” She knows he’s going to do something and she knows that, whatever he’s going to do, he’s not going to do it by himself – he is going to get people involved in the process. And she not only has faith in Jesus herself, she invites others to have faith and get involved too.

What Jesus accomplishes during the wedding at Cana is pretty cool, actually. His coming out party as the Messiah is to give everybody a good time. Unlimited quantities of high-quality wine, to keep people celebrating and enjoying themselves and each other. An occasion to bring families together, to make new friends, to generally enhance our joy as individuals and the whole community – Jesus embraces this occasion and makes it even better and more delightful. It’s a beautiful and amazing picture of what the reign of God is like – it’s not about complying with laws, or getting let off the hook for sins, or giving up all the fun things in life. It’s about being invited into a delightful celebration of community. I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely down for this kind of religion, for this kind of God.

Every wedding embodies the hope of a wonderful and delightful celebration, on that day and all days to come, the hope of abundant joy and festive hospitality and people coming together – not just at the wedding party but for the whole married life of the couple that is about to begin. This hope is present at every wedding, at every Sunday morning church service, at the beginning of each new day. The hope for a joyful and delightful community filled with new and unexpected blessings.

And when our hope is frayed because it looks like the wine is running out – this is the moment to name our fear and bring it to Jesus. This is the moment to do what we’ve been asked to do, even if we don’t understand how God is going to use it or bring it all together. This is the moment to have faith that the joyful celebration we long for is something Jesus can deliver – and that whatever opportunity we’ve been given to participate in the work of Jesus will give us a taste of the truly excellent wine to come.