Jesus 4 Everybody: Water into Wine

Alright. We're going to be looking at a story about Jesus in John chapter two. This is our custom—we're going to read it together. It's going to be right up there on the screen, and it's also in your bulletin. I'd ask that you read this along with me. This is God's word.

On the third day, there was a wedding at Cana in Galilee and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus also was invited to the wedding with his disciples. When the wine ran out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine." And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come." His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you." Now there were six stone water jars there for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding 20 or 30 gallons. Jesus said to the servants, "Fill the jars with water." And they filled them up to the brim. And he said to them, "Now draw some out and take it to the master of the feast." So they took it out. When the master of the feast tasted the water, now become wine, and did not know where it came from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew, the master of the feast called the bridegroom and said to him, "Everyone serves the good wine first, and when the people have drunk freely, then the poor wine. But you have kept the good wine until now." This the first of his signs Jesus did at Cana in Galilee and manifested his glory, and his disciples believed in him.

— John 2:1-11

This is God's word. Thanks be to God.

I was getting a haircut last week and the television was on at the barber shop playing a morning news show. There was a segment where they were showing and talking about a viral video. As it started, one of the customers who had already seen the video said to the rest of us, "You've got to see this." So we stopped and watched this heartwarming video, and it was fine. Not life changing, but it was fine. You've got to see this though, right? I mean, he built it up. Now why? Because it did something for him and he wants us to experience what it did for him as well.

As John starts his gospel, one of the phrases related to Jesus that gets repeated again and again is "come and see." It's most often said in the context of one of Jesus' followers telling someone else what Jesus has done. And something in their retelling gets the interest of the other. Usually, after hearing the story about Jesus, a question follows like this: "Is he the one that's gonna make sense of my crazy life?" And the response is not overpromising. It's just, "Come and see."

The phrase gets repeated enough that it's almost as if John expects us to come with our questions and our uncertainties about who Jesus really is. See, the one God promised? Can he save me? Can he change me or my situation? Is he the answer to my deepest longings, desires, and needs? Is he the one I've been looking for?

And the way John answers those questions is by inviting us to join him on a "come and see" journey as we read these stories about Jesus. He invites us to come and see so we can discover what John did: that Jesus is the one we've been looking for and longing for. He's the one God promised. He's God in the flesh, come to earth out of love for us to save us.

So as you look at this story in John two, no matter where you find yourself in your spiritual journey, I invite you to respond to John's invitation to come and see who Jesus is, what he does, and consider what that means for you this morning.

This is the story of Jesus' first miracle—changing water to wine at a wedding. And in and of itself, it's an interesting first miracle. If you're going to come on the scene and start your public ministry, it's kind of an interesting way to start—by changing water to wine at this small wedding in a kind of small town. But it's more than just a trick or a show of power to impress or draw a crowd.

It's what John in verse 11 calls "the first of Jesus' signs." Signs is a word that John uses throughout his gospel for Jesus' miracles. And in using that word, John reminds us that miracles aren't simply an end in themselves. They point to something greater. They point to God at work in a meaningful way. For those who look at them with the eyes of faith, they see not only the water changed to wine, but also in a sense a foretaste of things to come. A reminder that the best is yet to come, that the bad news is not the last news.

I don't know about you, but I could use a sign that the bad news is not the last news. I could use a reminder that the bad news is not going to have the final say. And this story in John two does just that.

Jesus and some of his disciples and his mother Mary are at a wedding celebration. In that day, a wedding celebration was a multi-day event that could last even as long as a week.

Often the whole town was invited, as were family and friends. The assumption is that Mary and Jesus were there because they're close friends with either the bride or the groom, and the city, Cana in Galilee, was fairly close to Jesus' hometown.

Anyway, it's up to the groom's family, not the bride's family, to throw this multi-day party. And throwing a good party reflected well on them. Throwing a party that failed was shameful for them and, by extension, the couple. And in a shame culture in a small town, well, you can imagine how significant an important party was. But there's more.

A wedding celebration was so important that if the groom and his family threw a less than stellar party, the bride's family had the legal right to sue and collect money for this egregious party foul. So this is a big deal. It has the potential to set the couple up well, but it also has the potential to cause family, social, and financial challenges. And now they're out of wine. And that's not a small deal. It's a big deal.

Wine wasn't just an expected part of the celebration. In many ways, it was a central symbolic part.

Wine makes our heart glad — Psalm 104

Ancient rabbis said there's no rejoicing save with wine. Now they aren't saying get drunk to get joy, but they are saying that wine is symbolic. A celebration with wine is a joyful one. To run out of wine symbolizes more than just shame and liability; it also symbolizes running out of joy.

Running out of wine at a wedding party is the kind of mistake that can cost you or others dearly. You haven't done something sinful, but you have done something foolish. It was a mistake. Maybe the kind that makes others cringe when they think about what's gonna happen here. It's the kind of foolish mistake that causes you to say to yourself something like, "How can I be so stupid? I'm such a failure." And then you cycle down into shame and despair. "How am I ever gonna make this right?" That's the problem that's on Mary's mind, probably for her friends, in verse three when she says to Jesus, "They have no wine."

The discussion that follows is a bit abrupt, and we'll get to that in a moment, but notice what happens. In verse seven, Jesus tells the servants to fill the twenty to thirty gallon jugs to the brim with water and tells them to draw what was water but is now wine out of the jugs and take it to the master of the feast—kind of the paid host to the party.

The master of the feast tastes it and calls the bridegroom over to congratulate him on his taste in wine, not knowing they were out of wine or that the wine he tasted was water a minute prior. He says in verse ten:

Everyone serves the good wine first, and then when people have drunk freely, the poor wine, but you have kept the good wine until now.

So here's what we've got. Jesus turns water into wine. But he doesn't just turn it into any wine; he turns it into fine wine. And not just one bottle—we're talking somewhere between five hundred and seven hundred and fifty bottles of wine. What that means is he drops somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred thousand dollar gift on this couple just at the start of their marriage. But it's more than that. It's the way he does it.

Look at verse nine: when the master of the feast tasted the water now become wine and did not know where it came from, he does it quietly. Nobody knows. He didn't stand up and say, "Hey, DJ, hold on a second. As some of you know, we're out of wine. Don't worry. I've got it. Servants, bring in those jars. Bring me a glass. No, bring everybody a glass. Everybody, let's swirl, sniff, and taste some of the finest wine in all of Galilee." No. No. No. He steps in and does it quietly, removing the couple's shame before they even feel it.

The monetary value of the wine is huge. The value of letting their marriage start without this shame is priceless. And so as we come and see Jesus in this story, we find that he offers us a way out of our failure and shame—one that doesn't require us to deal with it on our own, but instead lets him deal with it.

What do I mean by that? Well, maybe actually Taylor Swift can help me explain it. She's got this song, "Anti-Hero." In the song, she's at her most vulnerable. She delves into self-loathing, her own self-loathing, even talking about specifics about some of the things that keep her up at night. It's uncomfortably honest, a pretty sad song all set to a catchy tune, as one of the greatest songwriters of our generation does. But anyway, in the song, she admits her own fault: "It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me."

And then also talks about the kind of dehumanizing reality that comes with being a female celebrity:

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby and I'm a monster on the hill. Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city, pierced through the heart but never killed.

And as she tries to deal with the seemingly impossible life she's both made for herself and others have in a way given her, it seems like she might wanna be the tragic hero, but is too far gone to do that. She does the best she can. She endures the worst of what people send her way, and as long as it doesn't require her to deal with herself, she can endure everything. I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror.

It must be exhausting, always rooting for the anti-hero. That's enough shade at her. It's actually kinda sad. She knows she's never gonna quite be enough to please everyone, especially herself. And as best she can see, this is as good as it's gonna get.

Contrast that with a perspective on a similar life put forth by Bear Rinehardt, lead singer of the band Need to Breathe, in this song "Who Am I?" You're right, sometimes my bad decisions define my false suspicions. No one should ever love me like you do.

Similar to Taylor, Barrett says that sometimes his mistakes confirm the worst he believes about himself. Not only is he never gonna be enough, he's really truly unlovable. But rather than trying to distract himself, talk himself out of it, or resign himself to "hey, this is as good as it's gonna get," he looks outside himself to God to reset his reality and rehumanize him with divine love. Here's what he explains: While I'm on this road, you take my hand. Somehow you really love who I really am. I push you away, still you won't let go. You grow your roses on my barren soul.

Do you hear the difference? The problems are at their core quite similar. The solutions are different.

Dealing with Failure and Shame

For those of us who can't write songs, our quick and dirty way of dealing with their failure and shame is either trying to cover it one of two ways: either by getting out in front of it—look what I did, LOL—or trying to hide or make up for it by lying, or trying to ignore it. And as Taylor so brilliantly and vulnerably explains, it gets exhausting trying to cheer on the anti-hero. The one who does incredibly heroic things, maybe to make up for what they know they lack, but in the quiet moments struggles to find anything good enough about themselves to celebrate.

Believe me, I know. It's exhausting always trying to root for the anti-hero. No amount of achievement, no amount of self-talk will provide any lasting solution to the feeling of being less than, especially in those moments where I'm more familiar with my failure and the ways that I lack, where my bad decisions define my dehumanizing false suspicions, and I'm certain that I'm unlovable.

It's interesting. The scriptures are full of stories of outcasts. Those who feel like worthless failures, certainly don't belong because of something about them, something they've done, or something done to them. For example, in Isaiah 54, we read this word to those overwhelmed with shame, which is all of us at times:

Fear not, for you will not be ashamed. You will not be disgraced. You will forget the shame of your youth. — Isaiah 54

That begs the question, why or how? And the answer there is given in Isaiah 54: Your maker is your husband. You aren't unloved. God has stepped forward and said, I wanna be with you forever.

In Hebrews 2, we see this further emphasized when we read that Jesus is not ashamed to be our brother. What that means is it's not just that God's cool with you from a distance. No. He sees you in the middle of your shame and he says, "You. You there. I wanna be with you forever. I want you to be forever linked to me. I want to be yours. I want you to be mine."

And Jesus says the same. He said, "You, you there. I know it all. All the failures, all the mistakes, all the reasons you felt shame, the reasons that you feel shame, and the reasons you will feel shame. And I wanna forever be known as your friend and brother."

Shame is real. We all feel it, unless maybe we're a sociopath. And Jesus comes alongside me and you when we're feeling it and says, not only that he wants to be with us in the middle of it, but he wants to offer us some release and relief from it. Again: While I'm on this road, you take my hand. Somehow you really love who I really am. I push you away, still you won't let go. You grow your roses on my barren soul.

His love gives us a new permanent identity, not one defined by mistakes, failure, shame, but by divine love. We don't have to find the energy to cheer for the anti-hero. Jesus offers another way. He calls us beloved, friend of God.

And that's what we see in the story. Jesus removes the shame from this young couple before they experience it. But he doesn't stop there. He gives them something in the place of the shame that they deserve to feel. He gives them his glory.

Again, verses 9 and 10:

When the master of the feast tasted the water now become wine, he did not know where it came from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. — John 2:9-10

The master of the feast called the bridegroom and said to him, everyone serves the good wine first when the people have drunk freely, and then the poor wine. But you have kept the good wine until now.

Now, who gets praised? The dumb groom. The one who screwed up. The one who doesn't deserve it. He didn't plan well. He can't throw a good party. He's the fool in the story. Jesus is the hero. So what has Jesus given for his foolishness? Everything that Jesus rightly deserved. Come and see. Not just what kind of person Jesus is. Come and see what kind of savior he is and what kind of salvation he offers. Come and see what God himself is like and how God relates to those he loves.

Again, John calls this a sign because it points to something greater. Look again at verse 11.

This is the first of his signs Jesus did at Cana in Galilee and manifested his glory and the disciples believed in him. — John 2:11

Manifested his glory. This is John's way of saying that by this miracle, Jesus is revealing something about God to us. The first of his signs—there's more to this than changing water to wine. Through this, God himself and the person of Jesus wants to show us more. And we actually get that sense from this initial somewhat uncomfortable conversation with his mother.

Again, in verse three, Mary says to Jesus, "They have no wine." And now she's probably coming to him as her eldest son. Her husband Joseph is probably dead, and so there's been a period of time where Mary has to rely on Jesus for a whole lot. But look at Jesus' response in verse four.

They have no wine, she says. And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what does this have to do with me?" — John 2:3-4

It's abrupt. But I don't think it's because he's annoyed with her. It's because his mind is elsewhere. We know this because he ends it by saying, "My hour has not yet come." That's a phrase that's loaded with meaning that Jesus uses again and again as a way to talk about his death on the cross and resurrection from the dead. So here at the beginning of his public ministry, he's already thinking about the end. The reason he came, which was to live, die, and rise from the dead for sinners like you and like me.

So he takes this simple problem of no wine and rather than simply providing more wine, he gives us a sign, a living parable so to speak, that points us to something greater than all that fine wine.

What Wine Symbolizes

See, wine doesn't just symbolize joy. Throughout the Old Testament, we read of this promised new age when God takes a world that doesn't work like it's supposed to and recreates it into something perfect—a world forever without sin, suffering, evil, and death. And one thing that's true of this world is that we'll experience everlasting joy and abundance.

Forever ours, the scriptures tell us, is that the mountains will drip with wine. And the new age is going to start with this giant wedding feast. It's Jesus' feast. He's the host. He's going to provide the food and he's going to provide the wine.

And in the story—the one we just read—he's at a wedding feast. His mother said there's no more wine. She's asking him to help find some more wine, and he's thinking about his future wedding feast. When he's going to sit around a table and eat the food and drink the wine that he provides.

And again, with the "my hour has not yet come" comment, he knows it's going to take suffering and death—his suffering and death—to get sinners like you and like me around that table. And that is a way of showing what life there is going to be like. As a way of giving us a foretaste of that feast that is to come, he gives us a sign. He makes an overabundance of really fine wine.

And again, the way he does it matters. Look at verse six.

Now there are six stone water jars there for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding 20 or 30 gallons. — John 2:6

He uses specific jars, pure jars with water that guests would use to rinse their hands off as a sign they needed to be washed from both the sin in their lives and the sin in the world. It's a custom that reminded them that they and the world are full of sin and something needs to be done about it. But the washing was ceremonial and really only temporary. It's not an end in itself.

Like wine provides temporary joy, water symbolized temporary cleansing. It pointed to a need for something greater and lasting.

We all need this cleansing because of things we've done and things we haven't done. We haven't loved as we should, we haven't given as we should. We've envied the success of others. We've lusted for things we cannot have. And in our anger, we've said and done things for which we should rightly feel shame.

This water—or the purification—is talking about more than just foolish mistakes. It's talking about willfully doing what God says not to do and willfully not doing what he says to do. And God says that death is the punishment for our sin.

And that actually gets us back to the wine. See, at the end of his time on earth, when his hour had actually come, Jesus has a meal with his disciples.

He serves them wine, which he says is like his blood poured out for them. And drinking that wine, they are reminded that it will be his blood shed for them. He will die for their sins so God can forgive their sins. To put it another way, this sign of changing the water to wine kind of points to this: that Jesus is going to provide a new permanent cleansing that the old ceremonial water said that we all need. And he's gonna do it by what the wine symbolizes, his blood poured out for the forgiveness of their sins. And he's gonna do this freely out of love for them, for you and for me, just like he did giving the wine to that couple. So that one day, we can sit with him at this wedding feast, having been forever cleansed, not by water but by his very own blood. We can sit and drink the best wine with Jesus himself, being freed forever, not just from our shame but also our sin.

And as he did at the wedding feast, he gives us actually a foretaste of all this, which we're gonna get a chance to experience in a minute when we partake of the Lord's Supper. He gives us a meal with bread and wine. Remember that he has given himself for us. His death gives us the forgiveness of our sins. And in this meal, we're reminded that Jesus takes our sin and shame and in exchange, we get his glory. That's amazing love and grace.

But there's even more. See, we take this meal, this supper, we do it together. Well, what does that do? We eat the bread and drink the wine. We not only proclaim that we're forgiven and Jesus isn't ashamed to have us part of his family. We also proclaim that we've all sinned and continue to sin and we need God's ongoing forgiveness. So we come to the table together as a group of forgiven sinners. It's the togetherness, the community of forgiven sinners that helps us fight our shame. We come forward, we individually together let everybody in this room know our little secret. We're in need of God's love, forgiveness, and acceptance. And as we come forward, God reminds us of this reality. He's given us what we need. Therefore, we belong here in this room, with this group, at this table, because Jesus has made us belong here.

As we come and see this story of Jesus changing the water to wine, as we come and see Jesus manifesting his glory by showing us who God is and how much he loves us. Well, we can respond like the master of the feast. Good. Excellent. Pleasant surprise. We can respond like the groom probably did when he found out what happened. What a kind loving man. We're gonna respond like Jesus' disciples. We might not know everything, but we do know this. Jesus is the one we've been longing for. Through this sign, Jesus invites us to respond like the disciples, to believe in him as the answer to our deepest longings.

Three Responses to Jesus' Invitation

Three responses all related to belief I wanna highlight. One is general for all of us and then two are applications of this belief. So the first is that the right response to Jesus' invitation is demonstrated by his disciples. It's to believe in him.

His disciples believed in him. — John 2:11

Prior to this story, Jesus invited his disciples to follow him and they did. And after this sign they believed in him and there can be a difference between those two things. It's possible to follow and not believe. You see throughout the gospels, people follow for a time. When Jesus doesn't do or say what they want, they ghost him. Followers like Jesus. They're cool with him. They may be fascinated by him like the master of the feast, amazed at what he's provided or like the groom, thankful for his loving gift. And they're all—it's all good things to feel, but that's not where it ends. If Jesus is to be your savior, it doesn't mean you follow him or are cool with him, it means you believe in him. It's a belief that he is who he says he is, the Son of God and the savior of sinners and the belief that you are who he says you are, a sinner in need of a savior. And even further, it's a belief in him as your savior.

If you're not yet a believer in Jesus, but want what Jesus is offering, then come talk to me after the service. I'd love to talk to you and tell you about what it means for Jesus to love you and claim you as his own. And if you are a believer in Jesus, I think Jesus is inviting you today to respond with faith in two other ways, to trust his timing and to trust his goodness.

It's interesting, when Mary first approaches Jesus, she does so as his mother. And his response, especially to his mother, seems a little harsh. Some commentators suggest that she may be trying to force his hand. Kind of, after all I've done for you as your mother, make something special happen. I know you're special, do something special. And I don't think that's the case here, but it is a common way that we approach Jesus. We can almost bargain with him trying to trade in on all we've done, hoping we can make him do something.

And one thing that's clear in this passage is that no one, not even Jesus' own mother has special access to him. No one, not even his own mother can force a miracle. That's pretty significant. Think about that for a second.

I don't think Mary's trying to do that, but instead I think Mary approaches Jesus in dependence on him and with faith in him, even if she doesn't quite know what he's gonna do. Which is the way Jesus invites us to approach him in prayer. We ask and then in faith, we respond as she does with kind of a hopeful faith even when he doesn't immediately respond like we want him to. The faith is in his timing and his control and our obedience.

And it's seen in her words to the servants: do whatever he tells you to do. And it's not just to trust in his timing, it's also trust in his goodness. It's a willing submission to his will and his way, believing that whatever he does is both right and good.

Look, I get it. That's often easier to say than it is to do. There are things that I've been persistently asking Jesus to do, and he hasn't, at least not as I hoped he would or in the time that he would. But sometimes I can get to the point where I know and believe that that's right. From trusting in the one who loves me and I'm trusting in the one who gave his life for me. And I'm trusting in the one who might not always make sense, but knows so much more than I do. And so that means he's not always gonna make sense. Even so he's always with me. He'll always be with me. He'll never leave me. He'll never forsake me. He'll always love me.

So the invitation here is to come and see. Come and see that Jesus is inviting you to believe in him, to trust his timing and to trust his goodness.

Two Ways to See Evidence of Belief in Jesus

As we close, let me give you two ways you can see evidence of belief in Jesus in your life. First, it's how you engage with Jesus' gifts and second, what you do with them.

When I was in seminary, my friends and I were fascinated by verse 10:

Everyone serves the good wine first, and when the people have drunk freely, then the poor wine. But you've kept the good wine until now. — John 2:10

Why does Jesus provide so much, like 500 to 750 bottles worth? Why does Jesus provide so much wine when many of the guests have already had all they can handle? It's a legitimate question, and I think the answer works actually for all the good things God gives us.

Yeah, there are probably over 500 bottles of good wine there. But neither the quantity nor the quality of the gift dictate how we engage with it. So maybe a good question to ask as you think about engaging with any of the good gifts God gives you is this: Am I reaching or am I receiving?

Here's what I mean by that. Am I reaching for this to give me something I lack? Or am I receiving it as a gift from God for my joy that points me to and makes me long for a fuller, more complete eternal joy in the age to come?

When you reach, you put your faith in the gift. When you receive, you put your faith in the giver. And so your belief is seen—or your faith is seen—in how you engage with these gifts.

And it's also seen in what you do with them. Look, we don't know what the couple did with all the wine. One would hope that the generosity received resulted in generosity shown. But that's not always the case.

I remember fifteen years ago, I was pastoring a church and someone offered me a truck. My first response wasn't thanks, but instead revealed something ugly on the inside and it came out like this: "That's nice, but yeah, if you give me a truck, everyone in the church is gonna ask to borrow it." I know, kind of ugly, isn't it? Which resulted in him rescinding the gift, rightly. It's kind of an ugly, selfish thing that kinda makes you cringe.

Look, as one who has received more than we could ask or imagine, we should be the most generous. Out of love, Jesus has provided for us in abundance, just as he did for the couple at the wedding. Part of that gift is an invitation to generously share with others even when they've been foolish, out of the abundance that Jesus has given to us.

I don't know what that is for you. Maybe it's money, maybe it's possessions, maybe it's your truck if you have one. Maybe it's your expertise. Maybe it's your time, either in giving it or being patient with those who—I don't know—for example, your kids, seem to only thanklessly take it.

Regardless, when you realize that all of life is a gift of grace, you can be free with what you have knowing you have something greater waiting for you in eternity. And look, it doesn't have to be extravagant to be done in love and faith and with a generous heart.

I'll end with this story. I have a pastor friend in New Orleans who was preaching this passage a couple of years ago on the last Sunday before Mardi Gras. COVID canceled all the fun. Parades were canceled. Even porch parties were canceled.

Porch parties are a gathering, kind of an informal gathering, spontaneous gathering of friends and strangers on your front porch to listen to the band that you've hired and have playing in your front yard or sidewalk or wherever. Having lived in New Orleans, I can affirm the truthfulness of what they say about the people who live there. They're either at a party, recovering from a party, planning for the next party. So parties are a big deal. So in addition to everything else that is going on then, the cancellation of the annual celebrations, including the porch parties, crushed the people who lived there.

So he's walking home after church having preached a sermon on this story and he's feeling conviction. He, like the young couple, realized he had received more from Jesus than he could ever ask or imagine. In response, he wanted to give in a way that reflected Jesus' generosity. So he's walking home, he sees the people gathered on their porches without music and without a ton of happiness or much to look forward to, and he feels their collective sense of loss. And it seems to him, he says, it seems like the parties are never gonna start up again.

So he heads to the liquor store, and he buys all the minis of good whiskey that they have. And he walks the streets, still in his collar, handing out minis to people on their porches.

Now look, don't miss the point, but wonder if you did the right thing. But instead consider, where can my abundance match the needs that I see? And then go in faith and do likewise.

Prayer

Jesus, we thank you for your generosity, many gifts to us. We pray that we would see and receive them with a thankful heart, recognizing that you love us, that you're forever for us, and that you take great pleasure. We demonstrate that love and generosity to others. It's in your name that we pray, Jesus. Amen.