The Second Sunday after the Epiphany
John 2:1–11
In the Gospel of John, things are never as they seem. The story is never as simple as it appears on first reading. Every detail seems to hold a hidden and metaphorical meaning. John always seems to be operating at two different levels, the story on the surface that is just ordinary details of the narrative, and the deeper story that holds the real, symbolic meaning, which sometimes has very little to do with the surface story.
If we are interested in the story on the surface, we would ask different questions of the text than if we are interested in the deeper, symbolic story. And we can take it detail by detail.
The passage starts out, “On the third day.” That is, it’s been three days since Jesus was down with John the Baptist by the Jordan River in the south. If we’re reading on the surface, the level of the narrative, we might ask, “How did Jesus make it all the way from the south up to this wedding in the north so quickly?” And we could try to explain the large geographic shift. But if we’re trying to read at the deeper level, the symbolic level, we would ask a different question: “What does three days symbolize?” On the third day, that sounds like Easter morning. John must want us to be thinking about Jesus’s resurrection while we’re hearing this story. Three days. Does it have to do with three actual days, or does it have to do with the symbolic value of three days?
Next we have the detail that Jesus’s mother (who is never named in the Gospel of John), and Jesus, and his disciples are invited to a wedding? If we are reading on the surface, we might ask, Why are they invited to this wedding? Are they family? Maybe they are, since Mary seems to feel some responsibility when the wine runs out. But if we are trying to read below the surface, at the metaphorical level, we might ask, When else do we see Jesus gathered together with his mother and disciples? Oh, it happens again while Jesus is on the cross and he connects his mother with his beloved disciple. Maybe John wants us to think about Jesus crucifixion while we hear this story. Is there anything similar between Jesus’s crucifixion and a wedding? Yes, for John there is. For John, the crucifixion is when Jesus is glorified, when his glory is revealed, just as the bride and groom are in their moment of greatest glory at a wedding.
Next we hear that the wine has run out. If we’re reading on the surface, we want to know why. Wedding parties in the ancient middle east usually lasted seven days. Running out of wine would mean a loss of honor for the hosts. It would be a failure of hospitality, and it might indicate that the family was short on friends. Usually friends and extended family would send the family gifts of things like wine that would help them with the party. If they’ve run out, it might mean they don’t have many friends. But if we’re reading below the surface, we would ask different questions. We would want to know what wine symbolizes. Does this have something to do with communion? Are we supposed to be reminded of Jesus’s blood? Probably.
Next we have that very strange interaction between Jesus and his mother. She tells him the wine has run out. He, very snippily says, “Woman, what does that have to do with you and me? My hour hasn’t come yet.” And then she tells the servants, “Do whatever he tells you to do.” What is going on there? If we’re reading on the surface, we want to know about the relationship between Jesus and his mother. Why are they talking to each other this way? Is Jesus being rude? Is Mary being nosy? Are they just engaging in some kind of silly, familial banter? But if we’re trying to read below the surface, we are drawn to a very different question. What does it mean that Jesus hour has not yet come? Is he talking about his crucifixion and resurrection? We’ve had lots of signs so far that he might be. What is John trying to say here about Jesus’s identity, about his glory and his role as Son of God and savior?
Then we move to the six giant stone jars that are used for the Jewish purification ritual. Again, if we’re reading on the level of the narrative, we want to understand the hard details. That’s a lot of stone jars. Usually a family would only have one. Have they borrowed from their neighbors? And that’s an awful lot of water that they hold. When Jesus turns it into wine, how much wine are we talking about? I did the calculations. In standard 750 ml wine bottles, it would be between 640 and 800 bottles of wine. That’s quite a lot. But if we’re trying to read on the metaphorical level, we don’t care about those hard details. What we want to know is how the stone jars function symbolically. Is there some connection to baptism? Or is John going to use these stone jars to make some kind of comparison between Jesus and the Jewish tradition that he comes from? Probably.
Then Jesus tells the servants to fill the jars with water and to take some to the head waiter. And the headwaiter doesn’t know where the water that has turned to wine came from, but the servants do know. If we are reading on the surface, we might think, didn’t that take an awfully long time for the servants to fill the jars with water? How could the head waiter not have noticed that? How exactly does Jesus turn the water into wine? Does it happen in the jars? Does it happen as the water is dipped out of the jars? But if we are trying to read below the surface, then differ details seem important. John is talking about insiders and outsiders. There are some people who understand, and there are other people who don’t understand. Maybe John is warning us not to stay on the surface. Maybe John is telling us that we need to read below the surface. Because we don’t want to be like the head waiter who doesn’t understand what’s really going on. We want to be like Mary and the servants who know exactly what’s going on. We want to know the hidden meaning. Is John trying to give us a wink and say, “If you’re reading below the surface, then you’re understanding my hidden meaning”?
Then we get the reaction of the head waiter, as he calls the groom over and says, “Everyone serves the good wine first. They bring out the inferior wine only when the guests are good and drunk. You kept the good wine until now.” If we’re reading on the surface, we might think, hey, that’s kind of cool. Jesus can make really good wine. Of course he can. He’s really powerful. And he also seems to like a good party. But if we’re trying to read below the surface, we want to know how the wine functions symbolically. Is John trying to compare Jesus with Judaism? Is he saying that Jesus’s wine of the new covenant is better than the rituals of the old covenant? Again, are we talking about Jesus’s blood, is this supposed to be connected with Jesus glorified on the cross?
Finally, we get a closing note from the narrator: “This was the first miraculous sign that Jesus did in Cana of Galilee. He revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in him.” If we’re reading on the surface, this part is a little confusing. Sure, Jesus turned water into wine. That’s a cool trick. But did he really reveal his glory? That seems like a little much. But if we’re reading below the surface, this is where the story really makes sense. Yes, this is primarily a symbolic sign. It is the way that Jesus begins to reveal his glory. His real hour hasn’t come yet, when he will be lifted up on the cross and truly reveal his glory. But here in this sign we have all of the right pieces. We have the third day, that reminds us of Jesus’s death and resurrection. We have allusions to the last supper and to Jesus being lifted up on the cross. This sign tells us about Jesus’s identity. He is the creator and savior of the world. This sign reveals it. But only to the insiders, only to those who understand the secret signs.
So there you have it. Just one story, but two very different ways of understanding it. They almost aren’t even the same story anymore. One story is about a wedding, and a work of power that changed water into wine. The other one is about Jesus’s glory, his self-revelation as the Incarnate Word of God, and divisions between those who understand and those who don’t.
I will be honest with you. I struggle with John. The Wedding at Cana is a really familiar story. But in twenty-three years of study and ministry, I’ve only preached on it once before.. And it’s not just this particular story. I tend to avoid John in general. I have a hard time with it. It seems to me like Jesus is always running around, acting like a jerk, and constantly saying, “I’m the Son of God!”
I know that there are supposed to be levels of meaning in John, and I struggle with both of them. This story is no different. Take it on the surface level first. Sure, Jesus shows his power, but to what end? It’s not like he’s healing someone or doing something else to eliminate suffering. He’s basically showing up at the end of a party with six extra kegs. If we try to find meaning in this story on the surface level, we end up talking about weddings or wine at communion. At just about every Christian wedding you’ll hear some reference to this story. Jesus graced the wedding at Cana with his presence. It’s because Jesus never actually says anything positive about marriage. It’s surprising to think about, but it’s true. In all four gospels, Jesus doesn’t ever suggest that people should get married. But remember, he did go to that wedding that one time. That’s something, isn’t it? It seems a bit silly to me.
Or we could talk about communion. Jesus turned water into wine, so we know he drank wine. But when Methodists and other prohibitionists argued against using wine in communion, they came to this story for justification. They were worried about the scourges of rampant alcoholism. So they cleverly argued that since Jesus turned water into wine, there’s no reason that water could not be used instead of wine in communion. They just reversed the process. Eventually a Methodist dentist and preacher applied the theories of Louis Pasteur to the vineyard and invented grape juice as a substitute for sacramental wine. That Methodist pioneer: Dr. Thomas Bramwell Welch. In any case, that also seems to me like kind of a silly use for this bible story.
So what about the deeper, under the surface, symbolic meaning. Well, in that case, this story is all about Jesus’s glory. At the beginning of John, Jesus is introduced as the Word of God, that was there in the beginning, and created the universe, and then took on human form in Jesus. At the end of John, Jesus is crucified, but it has nothing to do with suffering. For John, Jesus’s crucifixion is like a coronation. He is lifted up with a crown and a purple robe. He reveals his glory. Here, early in the story, Jesus gives a first glimpse of that glory. The water turned to wine is a secret sign, that only some can see, that reveals Jesus to be the creator and savior of the world, nothing less than God, the only way to God, superior to all other revelations of God.
And I can see how that message could be very important. Especially thinking about when John is writing. The church is a relatively small sect, spread out across the empire. They are often the target of vicious persecution. They are seen as deviants and traitors. But John and his church know a secret. They know something the rest of the world can’t see. They know that Jesus wasn’t a failed Messiah who was executed on a Roman cross. They know that Jesus was actually the creator the world, the Son of God, actually and truly God, the only way to God. They know a secret that even though they are persecuted outcasts, in reality they are the only ones who have access to God. Everyone else is doomed to hell.
And that makes me uncomfortable. And it’s one thing to say that when the church is small and persecuted. It’s another thing to say it when the church is big and powerful. When Christian society became dominant, Christians started to become the persecutors. And Christians have been responsible for some great atrocities, often justifying themselves by saying that Christ is superior to all others, so Christians can treat all others however they please. And that causes me great concern. I believe wholeheartedly that Jesus is the Incarnate Word of God, the source of wisdom and truth. And at the very same moment, it makes me uncomfortable, because I do not want to stumble into a Christian arrogance in which I devalue the lives of those who aren’t Christian.
Maybe some of you struggle with the same kinds of questions. And probably some of you think that I’ve gotten it all wrong. And probably I have. I have a tendency to look right past much of the beauty in the Bible because I’m busy investigating the minutia.
But I’ll tell you this: I think the Bible is worthy of our struggle. Luther and the other reformers taught us that the Bible is open to the interpretation of every Christian believer, that we are all meant to read it and think about it for ourselves. And that means that sometimes we won’t understand it. And sometimes parts of it will make us uncomfortable. And sometimes we will struggle with how to make sense of the contradictions that we find there. But it is worthy of our struggle.
And Jesus is worthy of our worship and discipleship. The one who offers us adoption into God’s family through the ordinary element of water, the mystery of baptism. The one who offers us grace and forgiveness, his very body and blood, through the ordinary elements of bread and wine, the mystery of the eucharist. The one who reveals the glory of God in the ordinary elements of a human life, the mystery of the incarnation.
John is right. Things are not always as they seem. It is often in the ordinary things that God’s extraordinary glory is revealed. May God grant us all the eyes of faith, so that, like those servants at the wedding in Cana, we may see the glory of our Lord, hidden in plain sight, all around us, just waiting to be revealed.