There are two ways to know when a party is over: one is that the
music stops. The other is when they run out of refreshments…and in the world of
adults…I’m talking about the wine.
And that’s what’s at stake here in the scene from our Gospel.
There’s a wedding in the village of Cana in Galilee. Back in those
days, weddings were big “to-do’s.” We’re talking a seven-day blow out
celebration, a party ‘til you drop affair. So to have the wine run out…and it’s
only day three…that would throw cold water on the jubilant and festive mood and
be the height of embarrassment for the bridegroom’s family, the hosts of this
happy occasion.
Mary…Jesus’ mother…sees this social catastrophe on the horizon and
turns to Jesus to let him know that the wine is running out. And Jesus looks at
his mother and says, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has
not yet come.”
This isn’t the only time in the Scriptures where we hear Jesus say
something to a woman that might make us think, “Ouch!”
Remember the Syrophoenician woman in Mark with the sick daughter?
She seeks out Jesus for help and he tells her that his food is for the children
of Israel and not the dogs? And we know how she responds to that…not backing
down from her ask and pointing out to Jesus that “even the dogs under the
children’s table eat the crumbs” (Mark7:28).
Mary is also undaunted. Even as Jesus is asserting that his “hour
has not come,” she knows from everything she’s been pondering in her heart that
if anyone can respond and keep this party going, it is Jesus. John doesn’t tell
us how she responded to his remark, but clearly she had full faith and
confidence that Jesus would not sit idly by.
She tells the servants to follow his directions. And Jesus proceeds
to do his first miracle…turning water into wine.
And the party continued.
Jesus heard and understood what needed to happen…even if he seemed
at first to be reluctant or unwilling to intervene.
His hour may not have come…but this party was going to fall apart
if he didn’t act.
The prophet Isaiah is in a similar situation. The Babylonians had
wrecked Zion and Jerusalem. Those who had been in exile are now coming back.
Those who had been left behind were traumatized and resentful. Joy is nowhere
to be found. And Isaiah turns to God in this time of an uncertain future:
“For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem’s sake I
will not rest, until her vindication shines out like the dawn and her salvation
like a burning torch.” (Isaiah 62:1)
In the same way that Mary can see that something is awry and needs
Jesus’ attention now…Isaiah isn’t going to let God forget the promises made to
rescue Israel and restore its dwelling place of Zion and Jerusalem. Isaiah
envisions a time when not only will Israel be in right relationship with God;
the relationship will be made new…a new name…and the Lord will delight and
rejoice as a bridegroom seeing his bride.
And here we are back at the image of weddings…high times…and
festive occasions…and lots of joy!
In both these stories…there is an action to get God’s attention.
Whether it is Isaiah crying out for the restoration of Israel…or Mary seeking
the key element needed to keep a party going strong…someone seeks…and finds God
is listening.
I’m wondering how many times each one of us has found ourselves in
a situation where we stand in the middle of a dilemma and call out…in
exasperation or tears or deep heavy sighs…we seek to get God’s attention to our
plight?
This is the weekend where we remember Georgia’s native son the
Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and his place in our country’s history in
the struggle for civil rights for people of color.
There is a story about the night of January 27th
1956…almost sixty-six years ago…when Dr. King took a phone call that shook him
to his core. *
King and his young family were living in the parsonage of Dexter Avenue
Baptist Church in Montgomery Alabama. He was involved in the bus boycott at the
time and had become accustomed to receiving death threats by mail and phone.
But this call apparently rattled his nerves.
It was about midnight…and the caller growled a threat…laced with
racial epithets…that King better leave town in three days or the caller was going
to “blow up your house and blow your brains out!”
Dr. King went to the stove, made himself a cup of coffee, and then
sat at his kitchen table. After a short while, he put his head in his hands and
began to pray aloud:
“Lord, I’m down here trying to do
what’s right … But … I must confess … I’m losing my courage.”
It’s not surprising he’d have made a prayer like that. Challenging
the status quo and being regarded as an outsider in every way and knowing the
history of violence against people of color must have been terrifying.
King says the response he got back was an inner voice that said to
him:
“Martin Luther, stand up for truth. Stand up for justice. Stand up
for righteousness.”
In that moment, he felt a sense of calm wash over his body. He
gained assurance…and knew he had to keep going.
God listened. God heard. And God responded.
God met King in his place of fear and desire to retreat. In that
moment, King became aware that what he was doing was important and necessary,
and no threat could stop him. He was calling a nation to come into right
relationship. He was pressing on us to treat everybody right, rejecting the sin
of exclusion and racist hatred and fear, and lean into the joy of beloved
community.
We’re still working toward that dream of beloved community, when we
can all live in harmony and joy.
Income and health care disparities still exist…and we’re still wrangling
over access to the ballot box. Indeed…sometimes it feels as if the promised
land is still many miles away.
Or are we so pre-occupied with seeking a pre-determined answer that
we don’t see the ways God is working God’s purpose out? That’s another part of
our Gospel lesson.
The steward at the wedding in Cana couldn’t understand how it came
to be that the wine the bridegroom was serving on day three was of
the top shelf variety. The steward was thinking that should’ve been served
first and then once the guests can’t tell the difference anymore, the
bridegroom can pull out the Manischewitz (apologies to anyone who likes Manischewitz
).
The steward’s attention was on the task at hand, and he was
oblivious to what Jesus had done, this miracle of changing ritual water into
wine. He was too focused on the details to experience the joy.
We, too, can get so wrapped up in the mundane or our disagreements and
division in the nation that we fail to see how God’s purpose is getting worked
out day to day in our lives to bring us to the party.
We see it here in our diocese with the Racial Justice and Healing Commission,
a group dedicated to working through the troubled history of the past…one
relationship at a time…and realizing a hopeful path to a future. The evil that
was the murder of Ahmaud Arbery has made this work take on even more importance.
As I mentioned in a sermon during Advent, the clergy in Brunswick
pulled together across denominational and faith boundaries to begin the process
of addressing injustice not with shouting…but with praying, sharing, listening,
and learning.
My hope is that we will see in the next several months
opportunities for us in Georgia to do some exploration of the past that leads
to something that looks more like the joy of God’s dream of beloved community.
That dream of a beloved community…where all people…no matter our
age, color, gender, orientation, status, or identity… can drink the sweet wine of God’s love…and
respect the dignity of every human being.
What a festive wedding banquet that would be!
In name of God…Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
*Story related here: Martin
Luther King’s defining moment: A kitchen, in Montgomery, Alabama, past midnight
- Lisa Singh
No comments:
Post a Comment