Either way, the story of the first miracle is awesome for two reasons: one, Jesus makes wine so that a party doesn't have to end early and poorly; and two, Mary, mother of Jesus totally outs him.
Read this:
John 2:1-11
New International Version (NIV)
Jesus Changes Water Into Wine
2 On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, 2 and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. 3 When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.”
4 “Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.”5 His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”
6 Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons.
7 Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water”; so they filled them to the brim.
8 Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.”
They did so, 9 and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside 10 and said, “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.”
11 What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.
Awesomely, my Bible footnotes tell me that the word 'woman' in verse 4 does not denote any disrespect. Just the part where he says to his mother, "Why do you involve me?" This is so great to me.
Jesus at this point is what, 30 years old? Bachelor, living close to home, maybe building some stuff in his dad's shop? He's gone out and made some new friends all of a sudden and now they're all at a wedding together. One can't help but wonder if the extra 12 guys had anything to do with the hosts running out of wine. Clearly Mary thinks so, because when she realizes the wine is gone, she goes straight to Jesus. Being in full-blown delayed adolescence apparently, Jesus rolls his eyes (it's in the greek, I'm sure) and says, "It's not my time yet" and is probably already walking back towards his friends when he hears his mother say to the caterers, "Just do what he says."
This is a woman, who 30 years earlier had been visited by an angel of the Lord, who had heard that the child she was carrying was The Son Of The Most High and that he would inherit the throne of David. She had been visited by Magi and shepherds and a chorus of angels had sung Hallelujahs over his manger beginnings. To be sure, he had shown some moments of brilliance over the years, but at 30, he had no throne, no armies, no wife, not even a miracle to show for all that hoopla at the beginning.
She was done. Tired of him saying "it's not yet my time". Tired of him not being who she so believed he should be. So she outed him, forced his hand. Forced him to prove to her, his own mother, that he was indeed who he had been promised to be.
This dynamic - his reluctance, her impatience - this is Being Human, fully human. I don't know all about why John is so weird, but if you read the whole book, he is just a strange dude with a strange take on things. But he holds the balance of our God fully God and being fully human just right.
The Hebrews passage today visits this idea too, that Jesus understands our pain and suffering because he too suffered as all our fleshly selves do. He was tempted, and suffered physical pain, and had a pushy mother. He knows how you feel.
I guess this is on my list of reasons for loving the God I love: our God chose to be with us and not just above us or better than us or greater than us or the boss of us. Our God chose to suffer with us, the spiritual equivalent of a parent getting down on their knees to look a crying child in the eyes and pull them in close. Our God is that God, and it leaves me full of love.
As I make sense of my broken, sinful heart this week, and try to give some of it up for Lent, it is good to remember that these 40 days are my own small way of saying to God, I noticed that time you suffered with us, and this hint o' suffering I've taken on in this fast is reminding me of that, and leaving me thankful all over again.
I have indeed taken on a small fast this Lent, but as I think about how fully Jesus became human and the extent of his suffering, my own tiny giving up seems like the cheapest kind of solidarity.
Huh. Now what?
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