Hidden Glory
John 2:1-11
I have often found myself wishing that God was a bit flashier. I mean it would make our lives so much easier if God blasted on the scene in a white Cadillac with beautifully polished rims, one of those special sounding horns and some kind of entourage in tow. It would be easier if God had a band, maybe even a tambourine band that shook in praise when God entered a room. It would be so much easier if we had no doubt when God was in our midst. But in my experience, God seems to prefer a more toned down appearance. God seems to be partial to sneaking into our lives, silently opening us, or gently whispering in our ears or waiting for us to wake up. God tends to move among us in the back of the room instead of demanding the center stage.
I guess God doesn’t struggle with the kinds of insecurities with which we human beings wrestle. God doesn’t need affirmation or attention or reassurance that what She is doing is right. God will do what He will do whether or not we notice.
So it shouldn’t surprise us all that much, to learn that Jesus’ first public event in the Gospel of John, his first miracle, his debut to the world as someone to watch, someone to follow, someone who could change everything, happens at a small family wedding. Now remember that the Gospel of John tells the story of Jesus healing an official's son (4:46-54) and a sick man (5:1-9). The Gospel of John tells the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand (6:1-14); and the story of him walking on water (6:15-21). John tells us of Jesus healing a man born blind (9:1-34) and the story of Lazarus being raised from the dead (12:1-11, 18). But Jesus’ very first display as the one to watch happens at a wedding in Cana.
From what was prophesied in Isaiah, from what was forecast in the stars, from what we heard from the mountains crying out, we might expect a grander affair for such a debut, but then again God tends to move among us in the back of the room instead of demanding the center stage.
The Gospel of John tells us to pay attention to this story, especially since the wedding occurred in Cana. The intended audience for this scripture would have known well that Cana is no Cotuit or Osterville. Cana is no Back Bay or Wellesley, no Bellevue or Brentwood. Cana is in Galilee. Cana is in Jesus’ home region, the same region in which his hometown of Nazareth is located; the same area that invited this question earlier in the Gospel of John, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” Can anything good be found in this dump of a place? Galilee was known for its thieves and its rebels, its outsiders and Gentiles. And yet this is the very place in which Jesus demonstrates for the first time that he is someone to watch.
Now, I don’t know about you, but where I come from, most folks would say that a wedding is not a wedding without a lot of wine. Sometimes wine is required for the mother of the bride to keep her mouth shut or for the groom to have enough courage to walk down the aisle or for great aunt Mildred to tell her best stories and I assume it was the same at Cana. We don’t know if the wedding had just begun or if it had been going for hours when the Gospel tells us in a matter of fact, the party is over kind of way that, “the wine gave out.”
And of course, at a wedding such as this, it would have been just a little short of a tragedy to have no wine left. It would have ended the celebration and sent everyone home, it would have sent all of the guests shouting to the night that it was such a shame to have the party end so soon. And perhaps other questions would ensue, questions like, “Is the family struggling financially that they couldn’t provide enough wine?” “Do you think the couple will be doomed because they have such bad luck?” So when word comes that “the wine gave out,” Jesus’ mom rushes to him with the news.
And without hesitation, he says, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” If he were my son, I might have a few choice words, but his response clearly tells us that he wasn’t ready to be on duty, his hour had not yet come. Maybe he wasn’t ready for his debut to the world as someone to watch, he wasn’t ready to announce himself as someone to follow, he wasn’t ready to be the One who could change everything, but he gets to work anyway.
He grabs water jars, really big jars and asks that they be filled to the brim with water. Then, he asks that the jars be brought to the chief steward, who in Jesus’ time, would have been something like the caterer or at the very least the trustworthy relative or the sober friend selected to make sure that the wine does not run out, a job most likely reserved for the person who would vow not to drink it all himself.
The Gospel doesn’t tell us why Jesus decided to act or exactly when the water becomes wine; we don’t know whether he wanted to do what was asked of him and we don’t know why it all unfolded the way it did, but when the steward takes a drink, he grabs the groom and tells him that the good wine is supposed to come first before everyone is drunk and cannot tell the difference, but in this case, today on this special occasion, he won’t send it away to save for later, the good wine is available now.
Very few people knew what happened, but the crowd knew that for some reason, the good stuff was saved until now, the good wine was provided for this small family wedding, among these everyday folks, in this backwater of a town called Cana. And I wonder why?
Why would this be the place for Jesus to begin to tell the world who he was? Why would this be the people to whom God would reveal the truth? Why would this be the time in which hearts were turned to the One for whom they had been waiting? God tends to move among us in the back of the room instead of demanding the center stage. God tends to do what God does without much flash or flare, without any big “to do.”
In the words of Roy Harrisville, “…sometimes God does His work without taking out an ad in the paper,” but that’s because God doesn’t need the attention. And yet why would God show up through Jesus at a small family wedding, likely a group of little influence in a town not likely to hold a lot of power?
God’s presence, God’s glory, God’s work in the world is never according to our expectations. God’s glory is not for display, not just so the world remembers who is the real keeper of our days; but God’s glory is hidden, revealed in day in and day out small and steady faithfulness to us. And often we take the good wine, the good stuff and forget the One who offered it.
So why would the wedding in Cana be the place for Jesus to begin to tell the world who he was? Why would this be the people to whom God would reveal the truth? Why would this be the time in which hearts were turned to the One for whom they had been waiting? And as people who long to follow Jesus, maybe the real question is why not?
God is always turning the world upside down, changing the center of power, reversing what other gods tell us and offering another way. So, maybe Jesus made his debut on that day in that town, among those people, to remind us that God isn’t flashy or formal, God doesn’t need a special occasion or a fabulous debut, instead God tends to move among us in the back of the room instead of demanding the center stage. God’s glory is hidden, revealed in faithfulness to us, wherever we are, just as we are. Amen.