"Grace for Running Low and Wearing Out"
The bible text for this week’s sermon can be found at https://bible.oremus.org/?ql=508822256
On the third day of creation, the waters are gathered together and a new form called land emerges. The scene is set.
On the third day of this telling, there is community and celebration, transformation and revelation. The story unfolds.
On the third day he rose again - the dead and destroyed are resurrected and restored. Salvation overflows.
In this new year, we’re following our sacred story through the Gospel of John, whose style of writing can be a bit mysterious and sound confusing and often hits as a little larger than life. It’s part of why I believe this writer to be a storyteller with a poet’s heart. Cards on the table, this is also probably why I love/hate them. I love the transcendent power of the poetic, but I can also get frustrated by its refusal to give a straight answer. What helps me to let go of this demand and expectation for clarity and certainty, what gives me a bit more grace for the mystery of scripture, is this reminder that such wonder is actually part of the point.
In this Gospel, the words are never just words - meaning is made not only from what is said, but what it echoes and mirrors and how it moves. So it is not mere coincidence that marking the third day creates a bookend of beginnings…from Jesus’ ministry on earth to the fulfillment of God’s promise in resurrection. Time and timing itself has something to say about what’s happening.
This story is told not only scene by scene but by symbols and signs. There’s what is said and what it says about what God is up to in our midst.
This wedding, this feast of celebration where we see Jesus gathered with family and friends, off to the side in the pantry with the waiters, is where we see the first of his signs. The gospel of John uses the language of signs rather than miracles. Perhaps they are called signs because they point to something. Signs mark a place, a moment, while also pointing beyond themselves to the larger road they are a part of, because they take the deeply human earthy experience and point to the divine glory it reveals, unveils.
The sign may be a bright star in the sky for all the world to see, pointing Magi to the place where a new kind of king is born. It might be the sign of epiphany blessing we put on our doorways today, pointing us to a reminder of holy hospitality. It might be going to your pantry and finding enough. Today is a day that invites us to pay attention, to be on the lookout for wonder and joy, even and especially in times that feel scarce. And perhaps, to reflect on what we might know of God through that thing.
I wonder…what signs do we miss because we think they’re too small? Too mundane? Too messy? Or because they happen in out of the way places or feel foolish?
I’ve never quite figured out the Steward reaction in this text. Getting ready to serve the next round, they call the host over saying “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.” Is he impressed? That there’s so much goodness to go around that the host can afford to give it out even until the end? Or does he think it’s a waste to use the good stuff when most people won’t notice how good it is? Does he think the host is an idiot and a poor party planner?
And yet neither of them even knows the full extent of the grace that filled these jars.
See, here’s a little ancient party etiquette that I guess really hasn’t changed all that much over time. A good host makes sure that they won’t run out of food or drink so the community can enjoy the full freedom of celebration. Everyone takes turns hosting and everyone has done their part when it was their turn to bless the community with a good party. So now when the wine is gone, it would be a huge embarrassment and a scandalous shame for the host.
In simple and poetic turning upside of the story, what would produce scandal and shame through scarcity, Jesus assumes through generosity. Jesus takes on and transforms an ending into a new beginning. God takes the elements of purity and celebration, often presented as opposing forces, and brings them to overlap for the sake of full bellies and happy hearts, for the sake of shared and abundant joy.
We live in a society that still shouts “shame” for running low and wearing out. Jesus says, “bring the empty vessels to me. Let them be filled with the most simple and basic of human needs for life”
…and through some mystery along the way it becomes enough to keep going.
In fact, Christ creates more than enough, more than the bare minimum. God gives the best even when I would have been happy to settle for the basic. God gives away the good stuff even past when it can be impressive and whether or not it can be fully appreciated. Jesus does this without drawing attention to themselves or making sure that everyone gives them credit. And this gift is not kept for himself, but given in community.
THIS is what the writer of the gospel calls glorious.
THIS is the way God’s glory is revealed.
This sign points to a God who somehow, somewhere along the way, among the day to day happenings of our lives…turns mourning into dancing.
Within the ordinary and wondrous rhythms of place and gathering and celebration and hospitality - THIS is where God’s glory dwells and is known and experienced.
What’s something curious or joyful you’ve experienced lately?
How do you imagine God might be reflected in that thing?