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January 14, 2007
The Rev. Canon Tina Campbell, Deacon
Proper 2 - Year C
In this season of Epiphany the Church invites us to remember and reflect on the manifestation of Christ in the world. Each of the Sunday Eucharists includes a gospel reading that depicts Christ’s power, his role as Messiah, being shown to the world. Indeed, the word, Epiphany, comes to us from the Greek, meaning “to show upon”, to “manifest”.
Last week, it was the Baptism of Jesus, with the voice from above declaring, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” This week, as you just heard, it’s the Wedding Feast at Cana, Christ’s first public miracle. Next week we will hear the lesson in which Jesus stands in the synagogue, reads the passage from Isaiah about proclaiming good news to the oppressed and declaring the Year of the Lord’ favor, and then announcing that, “ Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” And so it will continue, through Jesus preaching the Beatitudes, and a number of powerful healing stories until we arrive at the last Sunday before Ash Wednesday when we will hear of Jesus’ Transfiguration on the mountain; the voice announcing,” This is my Son, the Chosen, listen to him.”
The Church invites us, after the celebration of Jesus’ incarnation, his coming into the world to live among us, invites us to appreciate the ways in which Jesus’ ministry developed, the ways in which his reputation as healer and teacher grew, the ways in which it became clear that he was God’s anointed, sent into the world for the salvation of all.
Let’s look at the way in which this manifestation is portrayed in John’s Gospel this morning. If you know John’s writing you know that he was very fond of symbolism. Details in his work are there for a reason; they are not happenstance. So the fact that John places this miracle in the context of a wedding feast says something. For millennia in biblical times the wedding feast has been a metaphor for the presence of God with God’s people. Jesus, God-made-man, is present among us. This is what we heard today in that passage from Isaiah.
Then there is the opening phrase, “On the third day.” The third day of what? Since what? The Baptism in the Jordan? The calling of the apostles? Christians recognize the phrase. “On the third day” is clear resurrection language.
There are six empty water jugs standing there. Why six? Well, it is understood that the number seven has a particular place in Jewish thinking. It is the number for perfection, for fulfillment. Six is less that seven. Jesus brings that fulfillment. He brings the perfection. These jars are used for the rite of Purification, when they are filled with water. But now, Jesus in his life, death, and resurrection brings a new Purification. At the wedding feast the water is transformed into wine, into something richer, fuller and incredibly abundant. One hundred eighty gallons of wine is pretty abundant! Jesus is more than the Old Covenant; Jesus is the fulfillment of the Old Covenant. The purification, the new life we enjoy in Jesus Christ is richer, fuller and more abundant than anything offered by any prophet or teacher before or since.
Those of you who have known me over the years know that one of my favorite preachers and writers is Herbert O’Driscoll. He was dean of the Cathedral in Vancouver, BC when I lived there and attended Christchurch Cathedral. He is well known in North America and particularly in the Anglican Church of Canada. I often turn to his work in studying scripture and he did not disappoint me.
John’s story of the Wedding Feast is a wonderful story, appropriate for the liturgical season of Epiphany, but like so many fine stories it can be looked at from many perspectives. The Gospel stories are like beautiful jewels that one can look at in the light and turn them around to view them through their many facets. When I looked at O’Driscoll’s writing on this set of lessons I was offered another facet for viewing. O’Driscoll invites us to look at this jewel of a story through the perspective of Mary the Mother of Jesus. Now, as I mentioned earlier, no detail is coincidental in John. The fact that she is mentioned here at all means something. We are told first that Mary was present. Then that Jesus and his disciples were also invited. Mary is sort of the “primary invitee”. Mary appears in only two places in John’s gospel—here and at the foot of the cross. So it bears taking some time and looking a Mary here. O’Driscoll uses these words to discuss Mary:
When disaster strikes—because to run out of wine was a social disaster at a wedding—our Lord’s mother is once again the main figure. The mother of Jesus said to him,” They have no wine.”…
O’ Driscoll then poses the question:
Is this moment a kind of test, subtly put to him by the woman who knows him better than any living soul, an invitation to discover who and what he is? In the end of the day, is it to Mary that we must give our thanks for the wine he brings? Every indication points to the fact that there would not have been any wine had she not applied her gentle pressure.
…this scripture seems to be offering a truth about a certain aspect of our lives. All of us can be grateful to others—perhaps not even remembered—who at various moments in our lives drew us further than we were prepared to go, and thereby helped us to discover gifts and powers that otherwise we would not have known. Mary knew her son. Perhaps she intuitively knew the wondrous reality that was in him, even as someone who loved us knew the lesser but nevertheless precious reality hidden in us.
O’Driscoll is using this story and this aspect of the story to invite us to think, with a grateful heart, on those who have acted as Mary for us.
Tomorrow, I don’t go to work; your children have no school. We have this holiday in memory of Martin Luther King, Jr. All week my First Graders have been working on a booklet that honors the work and witness and “ministry” (although I didn’t use that word in public school) of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
His was a voice, not as subtle as Mary’s, for sure, but still a voice calling to all who would listen. “They have no liberty.” Announcing the disaster. “We have no liberty. We have no equality.” He cried out for his own people and for others to go farther than they were prepared to go, to go public, to be poured out, to be transformed.
So, I invite you this week to engage the “Mary aspect” of today’s Gospel in a couple of ways. First see Mary standing there, saying, ” They have no wine.” Who in our Church now, who in our community now is pointing out the scarcities?
They have no job.
They have no shelter.
They have no health care.
They have no living wage.
They have no liberty.
They have no justice.
They have no peace.
Who is calling us to go farther than we intended to go in our concern and compassion?
Who is it that actually loves us enough to recognize the precious reality, the capacity for love and generosity of spirit that is hidden within us?
And then, flip that around again and let us remember the Mary-like person who was there when our own resources ran low. For all of us there have been times when the wine of joy has run out, the wine of employment has run out, the wine of relationship, partnership has run low. Who was there to rally our own community’s resources to help us get through that hard time and to help us consider a rich, full, abundant alternative?
This week let us remember with gratitude those who have challenged us to recognize and use our gifts for the common good, for those who have been healers and rescuers to us when we needed them, and then, having given thanks, let us emulate their actions. Amen.
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