Sermon - Epiphany 2 - John 2:1-12

 

For years Messiah has, like many faithful Christian churches, observed an annual “Life Sunday”.  Although a primary focus has been the battle against abortion, we’ve also highlighted the broader idea that all of life is a gift from God and is to be treasured, supported, and nurtured.  It’s also a big reason why Messiah operates a Swaddling Clothes ministry, and supports a local crisis pregnancy center. 

And while the issue of defending life remains, and in some form or fashion probably always will, today let’s broaden the scope of this emphasis even a little more to include another gift of God that has been under assault in our world, the family.  After all, marriage and family are the framework in which God desires to bring forth new life.  From a father and mother, united in marriage, God establishes the family, and through their one-flesh union continues to bless us with children.

Now, I don’t need to tell you that the family is under duress these days.  Marriage, as an institution, has been devalued and deconstructed for decades among us.  Divorce has become increasingly acceptable and easier to obtain.  Marriage has also been re-defined, less a sacred union of a man and a woman, but now a simple contract between two consenting adults, or maybe more, no matter their sex or gender. 

Even the foolish gender ideology that has run rampant these days, especially among many young people, is a twisting up and confusion of God’s intention for our life – that we are created male and female, that we are blessed to be fruitful and multiply in the bounds a sacred marriage union.

But sermons are not meant to be preached for us to feel morally superior to all those bad people out in the culture and the world.  Let’s not get on our collective high horse and just say, we love babies and families and marriage and shame on those who don’t.  We’re not here today to wag our collective finger at others.  Rather, let’s consider our own sin and how God deals with us graciously in Jesus Christ.

We come, today, to the wedding at Cana.  Here our Lord performs his first sign, turning water into wine.  The messianic implications of this are pretty clear.  John calls it a “sign” not just a miracle, to indicate it’s meant to point us to Jesus, a calling card or indication of who he truly is.

And the backdrop of a wedding for this first sign also implies a deep truth – that he, Jesus, is the true bridegroom, come to woo and win his bride.  He is the true host of the celebration, the one who invites others to the party.  He is the one who provides the best wine, without cost to the partiers. 

We aren’t told much about this occasion, who the people are getting married, or why Jesus and his mother and disciples are invited.  We know a little about the wedding customs of the day, but not much.  And we don’t know why they ran out of wine, although we know enough to know this was more than a minor problem.  A social gaffe of a pretty large scale on the most important day in someone’s life, the embarrassment before family and friends and the awkward position – well it’s not the end of the world, but it is a problem.

Mary somehow finds out, and reaction teaches us by example.  What do we do when there’s a problem, big or small?  Bring it to Jesus.  She simply reports the situation, the need, to her son, and seems to trust that he will know what to do. 

Do we bring our problems to Jesus in prayer?  Or do we try to handle everything ourselves?  Do we, mistakenly, think we shouldn’t bother Jesus with trivial matters, and only lean on him when the going gets really tough?  Ah, but the old hymn says it well, “what a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer.”

Some problems seem too small, but he is not bothered by our requests.  Even his gentle pushback to Mary doesn’t stop him from hearing her, and helping out.  It reminds us of when he seemed, at first, to turn away the Syrophoenician woman, “it isn’t right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs…” and yet he ended up helping her, too.  Perhaps he’s giving Mary an opportunity to exercise her faith here.

And some problems seem too big for us, with no possible solution or fix.  These, too, we must always bring to Jesus.  Like Mary, we can trust that he knows best, and will deal with us according to his love and kindness.

Mary then gives the servants the best advice, and it stands for us as well, “Do whatever he tells you.”  If only we could.

This is the same Jesus who summarized the entire law with two commands:  Love God, and love your neighbor.  If only we could do what he tells us.

We have a hard enough time loving even our own family members as we should, let alone loving God with all of our heart, soul and strength.  The commandments give us particular trouble, too, don’t they?  For who really can say that she honors her father and mother as she ought?  And who can really say he hasn’t committed adultery, if not in deed, then in word or thought? 

There’s plenty of evil out there in the world – disregard for life, and despising of marriage and family. But, no, we don’t do whatever he tells us, either.  According to his law, we are sinners.  We are like disobedient children or an unfaithful spouse – and God uses both of those pictures throughout Scripture to teach us. 

But our disobedience to his law is only part of the story. He is our ever-loving Father.  He is the faithful husband to his people.  For his word creates faith in us, and we are baptized into him. We are crucified with Christ.  We are buried and raised with Christ.  We are not only the sinner, but also the saint.  We therefore receive his instructions with gladness.  We joyfully do whatever he tells us.

He tells us to trust him, to believe in him.  To come to him for rest.  To abide in his word.  To hear his voice and follow him.  Faith comes by hearing his word, and that faith, itself, a gift from him, by his Spirit.

He tells us, also, to receive the blessed Sacrament.  “Do this,” he says, “in remembrance of me.”  Not so much a command but a gracious invitation, for these, his body and blood, are given and shed for you.  And here, my dear brothers and sisters, the wine he provides is far greater than that of Cana.  It is the best wine, saved for you, flowing freely, and forgiving your sins.

And thus he receives you, again and again, like the prodigal son.  Thus he reconciles you to himself, again and again, as part of his beloved bride.  Thus he gives you life, abundant life, rooted in him and bearing the fruits of faith – love for God, and love for neighbor.

“Do whatever he tells you,” Mary tells them, and for us, forgiven in Christ our true bridegroom, it’s a joy so to do.