Sermon: Six Stone Water Jars
Scripture: The Wedding at Cana (John 2:1-12)
I did not choose today’s story, the Wedding at Cana, just because of Becca and Karl’s wedding next Saturday (Smile); nor do I wish that this great couple goes through the same challenge of running out of wine too quickly at their wedding reception!
Becca and Karl, we are thrilled to celebrate and extend our blessings to you. What a delight for all of us. Thank you for inviting us all to attend your wedding.
Today’s story, the wedding at Cana, is the one where Jesus’ disciples witnessed the first sign of Jesus being divine: the transformation of water into wine. What that means — water being changed to wine — is left up to us, how we reflect on it in our own context. It is said, “Scripture changes with the world.” Stories in scripture are like “living” stones used to build the new sign of God’s abundance in new context. So, we are encouraged to move away from a “narrow” scripture reading, where the meaning was set many years ago, to allow “generous” reading, which means that something can be interpreted and understood in different ways. Broad View does that. Generous reading. Generous preaching.
In the wedding story in Cana, the wine ran out too quickly. Jesus’ mother nudges him. “Child, they have no wine.” Jesus resists. “Mother, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not come.” The translation in The Message tells the story this way: Jesus’ mother, Jesus, and his disciples, were all guests at the wedding. When they started running low on wine at the wedding banquet, Jesus’ mother told him, “They’re just about out of wine.” Jesus said, “Is that any of our business, Mother — yours or mine? This isn’t my time. Don’t push me.” Mary went ahead anyway, telling the servants, “Whatever he tells you, do it.” Six stoneware water pots were there. Each could hold twenty to thirty gallons of water. Jesus ordered the servants, “Fill the pots with water.” And they filled them to the brim.
Now, move beyond the tension between Jesus and his mother - in the dialogue’s rapid sequence: the wine has run out. My hour has not come. Whatever he tells you, do it. Fill the pots with water – now, imagine what the rest of the wedding party is doing. They’re not paying attention to Jesus; they have their own lives, their own dramas, that take precedence in this moment. The master of ceremonies and chief steward panic as the wine runs out, while relatives and elders who haven't met in a long time create spaces, placing their hands on each other's shoulders, asking each other to sit, to converse, to greet, to drink, to eat food. The children tease their cousins, running and playing amongst themselves, creating rippling streams of laughter. Look around at this eternal moment that will continue for several days, with the bride and groom receiving grand, heartfelt congratulations. No one wants to break this banquet. It’s a wonderful occasion for the whole town. In the end, gallons of premium wine are served. The party continues its wave of excitement.
So, in the story, what is the sign? Where is the miracle? Water being changed to wine? The party being saved, thanks to quick thinking and swift responses, and no one noticing what has happened?
Let us quickly think about another miracle story of feeding five thousand people with the two loaves of bread and five fishes a child came to offer. We know that the miracle or the sign is not really about the quantity: The two loaves of bread being multiplied, like puffed rice expands and popcorn pops. Since one loaf of bread weighs about one pound, and let’s say 10 people share one loaf, this miracle deals with 500 pounds of bread, which is about 250 kilograms of bread. When we think about God’s abundance, multiplying from 2 pounds to 500 pounds at the voicing of Jesus’ prayer does not only sound impossible; it diminishes the generous volume of the event’s meaning. Why, then, should we think that the miracle in today’s story, the Wedding at Cana, is about the material change from water to wine? Let’s look for the generous wisdom of the alternative understanding of the story.
What if we notice that Jesus still stayed in playful resistance, when his mother pushed him and said “They have no wine.”? We have clearly heard Jesus’ direct response: Wine is not my concern. It is not my business. Then, Mary, regardless of his clearly expressed position, “Mom, it’s not our business!”, went away and said to the servants, “Whatever he tells you, do it.” After all, Jesus did have the six stoneware jars filled with water. But, please note this. After he had the jar filled with water, Jesus did not say, “Let it be wine!” Instead, he said to one servant, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” In fact, in the story, he never mentioned “wine”, not one single time.
While everyone is absorbed in the excitement of the party and the frantic organization of ensuring everything moves according to expectations (and rightfully so, for the newlyweds and their families), I want to focus on the fact that Jesus quietly instructed the servants to pour water into six stone jars (each holding twenty or thirty gallons which is about 110 kilograms; so total 660 kilograms of water.) Well, we cannot assume that they had a modern water supply system like ours, where water pours out when the tap is opened, and water could be poured into the stone jars with a hose, filling them to the brim within a short time. However, really, how fast and effectively each jar can be filled and the changes of material composition — Wine is composed of water (86 %) and ethanol (12 %) — cannot fill the generous volume of the meaning of this story. It seems that filling those tall jars with water to the brim in such a short time is already a near-impossible act. It’s daunting to imagine how the servants had to spring into action, like firemen with a bucket brigade, to carry that 660-kilogram volume of water, so quickly, with no break.
Today, I would like to invite us to the generous reading and generous curiosity of this story, fully enjoying Jesus’ delightful and playful stubbornness. Water is water. Did Jesus make wine? Didn’t he make it clear from the start of the story that he had no interest in wine? He filled the jars with water and let others taste whatever they wanted to taste. His first sign was not “Let the wine flow.” It was “Let water fill the jars and taste it.” I want to imagine that it is an invitation for us to come to the sanity and identity of water from the fuzzy-headed intoxication of wine. (By the way, I love wine.) I think Jesus deluded the high officer (the chief steward; the governor/the ruler of the feast (KJV)). He deluded the townspeople. He didn’t defraud them; he just let them think what they wanted to think. But the servants, who filled the jars with water upon Jesus’ request, knew what it was and what they were serving. These servants who were at the bottom rung of the party ladder and whose position it was to serve, not be served, to work, not rest, were Jesus’ disciples that day. Jesus’ first sign at the wedding was the subversive stubbornness that continues to call his disciples and us to ask questions… asking who we are and what we are called to serve. When everyone else was firmly of the belief that there must be wine to sustain the party, Jesus and the servants distributed two-thirds of a metric ton of water and supplied it to the party. Water completely replaced the wine and everyone was still fully able to enjoy the party. If some child accidentally drank the wine, (I once drank my father’s beer accidentally when I was young at a busy party) there would be no problem.
Let’s continue this generous reading, generous curiosity. What if we were called to be like the servants who filled the water in the six stoneware jars, asking who we are and what we are called to serve, as if our worship and meetings hinge on those questions, not wine. Jesus does not ask us to break up the party but to distribute the living water into it, for us and all guests to taste. Can it be the start of an enduring change… The first sign to become a prophetic community, expressing playful stubbornness and resistance, taking a break from wine (capitalism-driven goals) and tasting the difference; taking a break and experimenting with rest from the compulsions and forces of extreme capitalism in which the rich become richer and the poor become poorer. Taking a break to care for creation in a wider sense, not just our own gardens. Too many precious forests have been consumed by the rage of wildfires. Radically placing ourselves in today’s context, the context of here and now in this intoxicatingly affluent and beautiful city, Victoria. I hope that Broad View, and whoever joins us, can be the water-carrying servants for deep spirituality, bold discipleship and daring justice. Then, filling and carrying 660 kilograms of water within an hour sounds heavy, doesn’t it? We cannot do it alone. We need to engage family and friends; invite neighbours to infuse life-sharing water into the city and into the world, together. Find the emerging, justice-oriented leaders who hope to build a new generous vision for plenty and abundance, and ask them to lead. By uniting and being united, by inviting and being invited, by engaging and being engaged, we are the new generation, new-context water stewards that work to keep the ‘good wine’ of faith and justice flowing freely.
(Before the service, I took an empty wine bottle and filled it with water and placed on the pulpit. Then, right after the sermon, I poured the water from the bottle into a wine glass, a little dramatically, and said “Cheers!”)
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