A sermon for the Second Sunday after Epiphany
Annual Meeting Sunday
January 19, 2025 at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR
Readings: John 2:1-11
“They have no wine.” Our gospel today is Jesus’s first sign, or miracle, in the gospel of John. It takes place at a wedding, and the mother of Jesus tells him of the problem. The wine has run dry. In Jesus’s time and place, where honor and shame were a currency, this was a serious problem with serious consequences. The wine’s run out; do something about it. And Jesus, backed into a corner by his mother, does exactly that. The servants fill the jars with the water they have, water that may have been dirty and far from potable. They draw some water out, give it to the steward, and it becomes a wine.
The gospel of John is a strange little book compared to the synoptic gospels. The first part of it is organized around seven signs, or miracles. John is not saying that Jesus only did seven miracles. Instead, John is saying that these seven miracles are especially important to understanding who Jesus is and who Jesus calls the Church to be. The signs build in intensity. We go from water to wine, which is sometimes portrayed as an advanced parlor trick, to the raising of Lazarus. Each sign shows that the kingdom of God is among us and breaking out into the world in the life of Jesus Christ. That is the purpose of the miracles in the gospels; they point beyond themselves to tell us God is here to bring promised wholeness and restoration.
Of all the signs in John, I may identify with this first sign, water into wine, the most. Not because I am accustomed to throwing seven-day parties that require barrels of wine. But rather because I know what it’s like to worry about running out, to think–to know–that what I have to offer is not enough to solve the problem. I know what it is for my barrel to run dry at the worst moment, and to be left trying to figure out how to solve it. And I know what it’s like to go to Jesus, like Mary, and to say, “Well, Lord, I’ve done run out.”
Our world is a world of abundance, but we are too often acquainted with scarcity. We have more than enough food to feed the world over, but we run out. The earth is covered in water, but fires rage and droughts scourge. Modern medicine is full of miracles, but there is still suffering and pain. We are more connected than ever; and loneliness silently plagues. The truth is we know scarcity all too well.
Of all the parties he could go to, that’s the one Jesus shows up for–the party where we aren’t sure we are going to get by, we aren’t sure there’s enough, we aren’t sure we can make it because we are already scraping the bottom of our barrels. Jesus shows up with the abundance of the kingdom of God and asks us: “What do you got?” And then he uses the barrels lying around and the water of our lives to work wonders.
In this story, there are several points where everything could have been derailed. Consider, Mary could have just ignored the problem. They have no wine–and she didn’t bring any wine with her. But, instead, she goes to Jesus. The servants could have scoffed when Jesus said to fill the jars. After all, the jars were big, and the water was dirty. But they fill the jars anyway. They could have laughed and mocked when Jesus says to draw the water out. They could have rolled their eyes and just told the host the bad news. But they draw the water out anyway. Instead of giving in to what they think is true, instead of giving into scarcity, instead of throwing up their hands, they go to Jesus and follow. They dare to do the crazy thing. That’s what faith is.
In my life, and maybe in yours, I run out of wine. I run out of answers, out of strength, out of resolve, even out of faith. And the story can stop there if I want it to. That can be the end. Or I can just offer what I have to Jesus. Instead of giving into the narrative of scarcity, the story of loss, I can go to the One who proclaims abundance with the little I have and ask him to do something with it.
I think this is the perfect gospel to have on this annual meeting Sunday. As a church, we have the same choice. I wonder if we stop when the wine runs out, or if we turn the page and see what Jesus has in store?
Consider the story of the tornado. 100 years ago a tornado destroyed the previous building. We have pictures of the destruction downstairs. Do we stop there? Or do we turn the page? Our forebearers certainly turned the page. They rebuilt and gave us this beautiful place. Let’s turn the page with them.
More recently, we tell the story of a building project gone bad. If you are newer to our community, you may not know this story. But a couple of decades ago, a capital project took a bad turn and left us with a extraordinary amount of debt and shame. Our wine ran out. There was nothing left. Too often our story stops there, ashamed about the debt, embarrassed about the circumstances, afraid that the building could fall down, worried about what comes next.
My friends, the wine ran out, but that’s not the end of the story. It’s time to turn the page. It’s time to tell the rest of the story, the story about how Jesus took what we did have and made a miracle. The story of how a community came together and welcomed all through its doors. The story of how a church flung open the doors of that new building to those without shelter. The story of how we kept praying, we kept persevering, we kept serving, and we never gave up. Jesus used what we had–our hearts and our hands–and made wine out of our dirty water. And that wine–the wine that Jesus makes when we throw our hands up–it’s better than anything we could make on our own.
The stories of our scarcity are not the end. For Christ has come into the world with the abundance of God–of love, of grace, of hope restored. Christ has come here, even to our party with only water, to proclaim that something new is coming into the world. And our job? Our job is to dip the water in faith. Follow where he leads. And just watch it turn to wine. The second act is better than the first.
Storied Grace 