What Concern is that to You and Me?

The Gospel of John rushes headlong into the story of Jesus’ ministry.  Here we are, at the beginning of Chapter 2 of John.  There has been no birth story in John, no baptism story either.  John testifies about Jesus being with God from the beginning, then John the Baptizer talks about Jesus being the Lamb of God and spirit of God filling Jesus.  Finally, Jesus calls the first disciples as chapter one concludes.  Here at the beginning of Chapter 2, Jesus and his mom are suddenly at a wedding in Cana, just a few miles north of Nazareth.  And Jesus’ mom (never named in John, by the way) starts to realize things are not quite right at the wedding.  Wedding feasts in ancient Israel lasted seven glorious days.  The wedding feast was an enormous party of joyous celebration.  And Jesus’ mom realizes in horror that “they have no wine.”  This is a social disaster.  The hosts have failed at a fundamental duty of wedding hospitality.  And Jesus responds to her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and me?”  First, a compassionate observation by Jesus’ mom, and then a quick answer from Jesus denying any responsibility.  What just happened?  Does Jesus’ mom see the problem and Jesus does not?  Did Jesus just say, “I’m not my brother’s wine keeper”?  Or is something else going on at this wedding in Cana?

Will you join me in prayer?  “Dear God of celebration and joy, we thank you for the glorious abundance of your grace, a joyous wedding feast forever!  And we thank you that you listen and respond to us, your guests at your feast.  Hear our prayers, O Lord.  Amen.”

After Jesus says that the lack of wine does not concern him and his mother, his mother seems to ignore Jesus, and turning to the servants, tells them to obey Jesus—she directly says by her actions, oh yes, this lack of wine does concern us, and yes Jesus, your hour begins now.  She does not ask Jesus what he is going to do.  She just directs folks to get with the program and listen to Jesus and to do what he says.  We are going to be concerned about this, she insists.  So, Jesus directs some folks fetch six very large ceremonial purification jars—about 25 gallons each.  The presence of these jugs means this wedding is being thrown by observant Jews, who had jugs of water for ceremonial washing before eating and worship.  Jesus tells the people to fill them to the brim.  And then, Jesus tells them to give some of the contents to the wine steward.  Now imagine the servants carrying this liquid to the wine steward.  The servants do not know what has happened.  They are still in the water dark.  And then the steward pronounces the drink  excellent wine, the best wine!, and wonders why it is brought out last.  And we are told this wine miracle revealed Jesus’ glory, and the disciples came to trust Jesus.

Many commentators say that the water here is a symbol for the purification of the Jewish Law, and that the new wine represents Jesus’ new ministry that replaces the Law, the six jars representing the six miracles in the Gospel of John.  Other commentators say the sign shows the failure of the old way of the temple and Israel, and the miracle of the new way of Jesus.  Either way, I am still troubled that Jesus’ mom had to ask Jesus to act.  Does this mean that we are at God‘s wedding party, but God does not help us unless we ask first?  Or does God only act when we point out the need first to God? 

I am troubled that Jesus was initially a reluctant participant here.  He had to be coaxed by his mother into action.  Jesus initially denied any responsibility for action, but in community of the servants and disciples, his actions finally provided for the need.  And it seems the wedding guests had no idea what was going on, except the disciples and Jesus’ mom.  The bridegroom probably wondered what the heck the wine steward was talking about when he spoke of this best wine being served last, and partied on with abandon.  This is really a great wedding party, he must have thought, completely unaware of the everyday miracle in his midst.  Isn’t that how our lives go oftentimes?  We live completely unaware of the miracles that constantly surround us.  The best wine suddenly appears in our lives, and we hardly even notice God’s grace provision.

As I struggled with what Jesus was doing and thinking in this passage this week, I began to wonder what this passage teaches us about what God was doing during Newtown.  I wondered where God was during the Twin Towers.  I know where God was at the Red Sea as the Jews escaped Egypt, and I know where God was at the empty tomb on Easter morning, but where is God when disaster strikes us, now?  Is God here, today in our struggles and aches and suffering?  Does God look at our life now and say, “What concern is that to me?”  Or, is our life more like the bridegroom who all of a sudden has phenomenal wine at his party and seems completely unaware?  How can God seemingly not respond sometimes and then respond like this wine quietly appearing at this wedding?  Which is it?  Is God here, paying attention to us, or not?  Why is God always present, but sometimes does not act?

This is perhaps the most difficult question of our faith.  How can a loving God stand by and watch children be murdered in Newtown?  Where was God that day?  Atheists scoff and say this proves there is no God.  And people of faith struggle to make sense of all of the suffering in the world.

I think there are two deeply poisonous myths of religion.  The first myth is that if we are suffering, that we must have done something wrong, so God is punishing us.  Jesus completely denies this myth when he asks if the blind man is suffering for his sins or the sins of his parents.  Jesus completely refutes this myth and says this is not punishment, it is just the way of the world.   We do not suffer because we are being punished, Jesus says.  The second poisonous myth is that if we are successful that God is on our side.  This is wrong because bad people are successful all the time.  This myth is called the Prosperity Gospel, and it is absolutely wrong.  Just because someone is rich, you cannot assume they are blessed by God.  And just because someone is poor, you cannot assume they are being punished by God.  This problem is known as theodicy, which is Greek for God-justice.  If God loves justice, then why does evil exist in the world?

Entire libraries have been written on why some evil people prosper and why some good people suffer in the world.  Today, in a short sermon, we can’t fully address the historical, philosophical and ethical arguments that have been brought since humans began thinking about this fundamental God-justice problem.  The Book of Job was written to address this question, but I also believe we have a very practical way of thinking about this problem of theodicy right here in our passage today in John.

In the Gospel of John, there are only six signs, or miracles, with Jesus’ resurrection becoming the seventh sacred sign.  Each sign has a very specific lesson to teach us about Jesus and his ministry.  Each sign shows a very specific intersection of human interaction with God.  Here, Jesus’ mother engages Jesus to transform old ways of water into a new ways of wine.  The miracle of the transformation was quiet, hidden in huge jars, and unseen by most – even though the miracle was experienced by all at the banquet.  Maybe this miracle stands as a sign for our interactive relationship with God.  Our asking, our seeking, our knocking interacts with God to transform the world.  Our prayer changes the world as we become the compassion, the hands and feet, and the open heart of God, as Jesus’ mom had, sensing that the world “has no wine.”  Maybe the reason that God brought us into the world is to pray for what we see the world needs.  Maybe God is not concerned to act unless we are.  That is actually terrifying, because it means that the Holocaust might have been prevented if the people of the world had opened their eyes to see what was happening rather than turning away.  Maybe Newtown could have been prevented if the people of America demanded that the gun violence in our culture stop.  Maybe, God is waiting for our prayers and action, just like Jesus waited for his mother to speak and act.

So what does this mean for us, here, today, when it comes to things like the Newtown tragedy?  Maybe America has become blind to the violence that rages all around us.  Once every two weeks on average there is a mass murder of four or more people in America.  Once every two weeks!  And we are numb to the horror.  The news falls on numb hearts and deaf ears.  There is just too much pain and suffering.  Maybe God sits and waits, like Jesus did at Cana, waiting for one of us with the spiritual gift of prayer to rise up in compassion and love and demand that the world change.  And maybe the miracle of change occurs quietly, but to benefit all of us the wedding banquet.  Maybe hearts and minds are changed by prayer, and then the world is changed by all of us acting through prayer together.  Maybe, together, we are the heart and action of God in the world.

Perhaps our place in God’s Kingdom on earth is to be the eyes and heart of God, to be Jesus’ mother and say to God, “My God, they have no wine.”  My God, they have no food.  My God, they have no medical care.  My God, they are unjustly imprisoned.  My God, they are being discriminated against.  My God, we have too many weapons.  Maybe, if we live lives of our spiritual gifts of prayer and compassion and good works together, our compassion together becomes the very embodiment of God, changing the water of our world into the wine of God’s love. 

Because then, we, together with the wine of God’s love, together we can continue the wedding feast, joyously celebrating God’s Kingdom on earth together.  Together, as God’s people, we become the incarnated heart and hands and feet of God, changing the plain water of life into the spiritual gift of wine at God’s eternal wedding banquet.  Amen.