2nd Sunday after Epiphany: January 20, 2013
John 2:1-11
PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
On February 24, 1969, Johnny Cash recorded a live album at San Quentin State Prison, one year after performing a similar concert at Folsom prison. Both albums became hits, despite the fact that record executives put little money or backing into the projects. The San Quentin concert was also released as an hour long documentary, and if you’ve never seen it—please add it to your Netflix queue when you get home. It’s well worth watching!
Near the end of the show, Johnny tells the audience of prisoners about his trip to the Holy Land. He shares how he visited the town of Cana, and saw the church that is built over the very spot where Jesus was said to have performed his first miracle. As he tells it, he was so overwhelmed with emotion at being in the place, that when he walked out he started singing to himself:
“He turned the water into wine.
He turned the water into wine.
In the little Cana town, the word went all around
that he turned the water into wine.”
In the documentary video, you see the prisoners lined up, row by row, staring intently at the man with the guitar. They’re hanging on every word—hungry for entertainment, perhaps, but also hungry and thirsty for something else. These are men who know what it means to need a miracle. At the wedding in Cana, Jesus performed his first miracle because the wine had run out and the guests were thirsty. For the men at San Quentin, it is their freedom that has run out. The chaos and consequences in their lives have caught up to them, and now their supply of choices, liberties, and opportunity—which once seemed so bountiful—are bone dry. These men need nothing short of a miracle, and Johnny is there to give them Good News. He sings to them of the One who not only turned water into wine, but who also walked on water, healed the sick, raised the dead and sets the captives free. The love of God we have through Jesus is the miracle for which we all hunger and thirst. Amen?
Sisters and brothers, let’s talk about miracles. Miracles, by their very nature, are pretty hard to pin down. By definition, a miracle is an event that is unexplainable or falls outside of the laws of nature. St. Augustine once retorted, however, that “Miracles are not contrary to nature, but only contrary to what we know about nature.” And the great Christian author C.S. Lewis expounded, “Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.” Well, that about clears it up!
What can we say about miracles? We seem to know when we need one. “It will take a miracle for the Cubs to win the World Series”, for example. Getting Democrats and Republicans to work together and get something done in the next four years will also certainly take a miracle.
We also seem to know one when we see one. We wax poetic about the “miracle of birth” all the time, in spite of what any woman who has been in labor will tell you. And when we’re in particularly good moods, we are apt to call any number of things “miraculous”: rainbows, sunsets, grandchildren, or even a really amazing touchdown in the playoff game.
Still, we’re never exactly sure when or how a miracle happens. Even miracles we experience on a regular basis remain a mystery. In just a few minutes, we will all come to the table and receive bread and wine that is, at the same time, in defiance of the laws of nature and beyond all explanation, also the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. When exactly does that miracle occur? Does the miracle happen when the pastor prays the appropriate words, or holds her hands in the correct shape and her arms in the perfect angle? Does it happen when the congregation sings the “Holy Holy” loudly, and in tune, even when it’s a new setting that we don’t know and don’t particularly like? Does the miracle of communion happen when Martin Luther said it did: at that very moment when one sanctified sinner says to the other: “This is the body of Christ, given for you”?
Or did the miracle of Holy Communion happen when you walked in the door of the church this morning, hungry and thirsty for God?
What if the answer is simply “Yes” or even “All of the above?” Perhaps miracles are not just a moment in time, but are events that develop and unfold, through the grace of God, in unexplainable ways.
At the wedding in Cana, one could say that Jesus’ first miracle happened when the chief steward tasted the water that had become wine and declared it to be a spectacular vintage, better than they had been served at the beginning of the feast. But it was also taking place when Jesus ordered the workers to fill the stone jars with water and they did so obediently and in faith, with no idea of what Jesus was up to. And the miracle was taking shape at the moment when Mary trusted that her son could handle the problem. The miracle continued to unfold as the party went on, as the guests had more than enough to drink, as the bridegroom’s reputation was saved from certain disgrace, and especially as the disciples came to understand who this Jesus really was. For “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” John 2:11
I believe in miracles. I believe the love of God that we have seen in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ works wondrous things in the lives of the people around me. And I also believe that we have a part in the miraculous unfolding and multiplication of grace and love that happens when Jesus shows up and sets those miracles in motion.
Tomorrow morning leaders and members of several faith communities will gather to honor the life and legacy of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. We will sing and pray and remember his powerful witness and prophetic preaching. We’ll celebrate the victories of the civil rights movement in our country—miracles, really—and how we’ve come this far by faith, not in Dr. King, but in God.
But I’ll also be mindful of the many others who were part of the unfolding of this miracle in our country. Dr. King has a holiday in his honor; Rosa Parks has books written about her; but there were so many others who sat on busses, who crossed boundaries, prayed, walked, spoke out, endured ridicule, participated in boycotts, were fired, arrested, imprisoned or lynched. And there were those who quietly went about their daily business, like the workers at the wedding at Cana. The chief steward gave the credit to the bridegroom for bringing out the good wine, but it was the workers who hauled the empty jars to the well, filled them with water, and hauled them back to the wedding, hoping beyond hope that their small effort would be part of a miracle.
The truth is, we need a few miracles today, don’t we? We need the massacres of our children to stop. We need people to put more energy into caring for each other than in preserving their privileges. We need leaders who will put aside talking points and start talking to each other, in the interest of the common good. We need some people who, like Dr. King, will remember that the “time is always ripe to do what is right.”
Dear people, we can sit around forever and wait for a miracle to happen—or we can see ourselves as being part of the one, great, always unfolding, ever-increasing miracle that is the love God has shown the world through Christ Jesus.
As Christians, we proclaim that Jesus died on the cross, once and for all, and three days later was raised to new life, giving hope to the whole world. Amen! And yet, as we live out our baptismal covenants, we become part of the story as it unfolds in our lives, in our families, and in our world.
We become part of that ongoing miracle as we live among God’s faithful people, hear the word of God and share in the Lord’s supper, proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed, serve all people, following the example of Jesus, and strive for justice and peace in all the earth.
On this day, we have heard once again the story of Jesus’ first miracle. In a few moments, we will gather at the table and will be fed once again with his body and blood, freely given to us in love. And when we go out from this place, I pray that we will commit to being a part of the ongoing miracle of God’s love for all of humankind: red and yellow, black and white, gay and straight, liberal and conservative, young and old, rich and poor, prisoner and free. And let us always remember:
We've come this far by faith, leaning on the Lord; trusting in his holy word…and He's never failed us yet. Amen.
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