1/20/19 “It’s Not About the Wine” by Nancy Petty
Text: John 2:1-11
It would appear that at the outset of one’s ministry there is a wine test. Mine came shortly after I arrived at Pullen. I had known Donna Steely, former Pullen member, before I came to Pullen. She was the wife of my Church History professor at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary, Dr. John Steely a beloved member of this church. I had spent some time with Dr. Steely and Donna during my seminary days, having played on the same softball team with Dr. Steely. When I arrived at Pullen in 1992, Donna was among the first to welcome me. (For those of you newer to Pullen, Dr. Steely had died suddenly on Good Friday 1989 of a heart attack.) After a time of reconnecting, always around Donna’s breakfast table in Wake Forest, she invited me to her cabin on the Blue Ridge Parkway in Meadows of Dan. The weekend of our planned trip was absolutely beautiful. Donna had taken great care, as she always did, to make sure our time would be enjoyable. And one of the things she planned for us was a visit to and wine tasting at the local winery, the Château Morrisette Winery.
Now there are a couple things you need to know about this story. I was 28 years old at the time. I did not grow up around wine and to my memory I had never really had a glass of wine. (Wine was not the choice of drink in college.) I have a few memories of my parents having a glass of wine while out to eat or at a party but we did not keep wine in our home. The reason was not religiously or morally motivated. It just wasn’t a part of my parent’s culture or that of their friends. Whiskey on the other hand…No, I’m kidding. Back to the story. At this point in my life, I had had very little exposure to wine drinking or tasting. So while I was excited about our adventure to a winery and the promise of a wine tasting experience which sounded like a very grown-up thing, I was also a little nervous. Going in, I had decided I would just take Donna’s lead and do whatever she did. In hindsight, that may not have been my best decision.
After a tour of the winery, Donna and I, along with about six other people cozied up to the wine counter to begin our wine tasting experience. Now those of you who are experienced in this kind of thing know how this works. The person behind the bar pours these tiny glasses of wine for you to taste and as you taste they tell you about each wine – what kind of grape it is made from, how long it stayed in its barrel, its acidity using words like tart and zesty and fruity, whether it is bright, buttery, or floral.
As we went through this exercise, I noticed some people would take a sip of wine from the small glass, swish it around in their mouth and then spit it out in a small bucket that had been given to each of us. But as I observed Donna’s technique, she would swirl the wine around, smell it and then drink it. So, I did as Donna did. And guess what, after about 20 times of doing that Donna and I got to laughing, loudly. And I began feeling a tingling sense in my hands and feet. And I noticed Donna was acting a bit different than usual. And it was then that I realized, unlike Jesus, our hour had come and we would need to sit a bit after our wine tasting before driving the short distance back to the cabin.
That would not be my last experience with Pullenites and wine and my ministry among you. There was the memorable dinner with the retired couple, the once every five year conversation with the deacons about wine verses grape juice for communion, the infamous grocery store moment where Mahan halted how many bottles of wine could be purchased for staff retreat and my more recent experience with Malkhaz at Cameron Village Fresh Market as he argued with the cashier about purchasing a bottle of wine for communion on a Sunday morning. Her explanation of no wine buying on Sunday before a certain time did not compute for the Georgian.
And speaking of Georgia…A trip to the Republic of Georgia is like going back to a vineyard Garden of Eden. Archaeological sites show that Georgian began making wine at least 5,000 years before the French. “Wine was being produced south of Tbilisi, Georgia’s capital, as early as 8,000 years ago. Throughout its history and its oppression, Georgia always had wine to fall back on. It became a form of expression when Georgians had none.” Wine in Georgia is sacred and holy. I experienced, in great abundance, this expression when I visited my friend Malkhaz in the Republic of Georgia some years ago. It was obvious that wine was the symbol not only of hospitality and generosity but of identity. I did my best to drink what was offered to me but poor Jack McKinney, my traveling partner, had to drink his share and at least half of mine.
Why all this talk about wine? Because wine was at the center of Jesus’ first miracle as he began his public ministry. You know the story. There was a wedding taking place in Cana of Galilee. We don’t know whose wedding it was. John doesn’t tell us. Some scholars have suggested it was someone close to Nathaniel, one of Jesus’ disciples, who was from Cana. But we don’t know. What John does tell us is that Jesus and his disciples were invited guests. As for other important guests, John tells us that Mary, Jesus’ mother, was in attendance. At some point during the wedding festivities that likely had been going on for days, the steward realizes that the wine has run out – an embarrassment that would have followed the newlyweds for life had the guests found out. As Mary becomes aware of the crisis she goes to Jesus and says, “They have no wine.” Notice she doesn’t say, “They’ve run out of wine. Now do your thing and make wine appear.” But something else was said that we are not privy to. Because the next thing that John writes is Jesus saying to his mother, “Woman, what concern is that to you and me? My hour has not yet come.”
Now in lectionary group, when reading the gospels, we are always trying to discern what sounds like Jesus and what doesn’t. When I read this line, of what Jesus says to Mary, my first reaction is, “That really doesn’t sound like Jesus.” My guess is that it is John shaping his Christology. He is trying to make a point about Jesus’ identity at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. And that’s okay. Each of the gospels offers to us a theological statement about Jesus, and each is important. Editing in their theology is just part of their narrative.
I, though, imagine Jesus saying something like this to his mother’s request. “So, they’re out of wine. I’m not sure what I can do about that but let me go talk to the servants and see what we can come up with.” And with that, a miracle happened. Not only did wine appear, the best wine appeared, and in abundance – over 150 gallons of the best wine. And although the wedding couple was spared a lifetime of embarrassment and the guests had plenty of spirits to drink, this story is not about the wine. For all the talk about Jesus’ first miracle being turning the water into wine, it’s really not about water becoming wine.
The miracle in this story, just like in the story where Jesus feeds a crowd of people with just two fish and five loaves of bread, is about asking people to share their resources. Did you catch the parenthetical in the story along about verse 9. Verse 9 begins: “When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from – and then John adds this parenthetical (though the servants who had drawn the water knew). Can’t you just imagine Jesus going to the back room with the servants where he’s more comfortable anyway and saying to them, “O Lord, they’ve run out of wine! We’ve got to find some wine! Do y’all know where can we find some?” (This is the Jesus from Shelby. And those servants, just like those responsible for serving others always do, started scurrying around and finding the resources needed. Now herein lies a deeply theological point. Have you ever noticed how it’s often the poor who provide what is needed for miracles to happen? The wine wasn’t the miracle. The miracle was people working together to make a miracle happen.
The narrative in this story is about taking something common and making it holy. There is nothing more common than water. And, we know all too well in the 21st century, there is not another resource more precious than water. Jesus takes this common and precious resource and makes it holy. The metaphor is profound – what we need, in this case, wine for the wedding guests, is right here, in the form of what we have, water. Jesus’ message is one of abundance – all you need is here! And the sacraments of life are as simple as the water we drink and bathe in and grow our crops with. If we weren’t so worried about the wine, could we see that Jesus is teaching us that the miracle is that the everyday is the holy?
There is at least one more take away from this familiar story. And it is this: doing the small acts of kindness and compassion are just as important as fighting the big battles of injustice. Jesus helping out at the wedding in Cana may seem like a big deal. After all, turning water into wine is impressive. But think about it. The battles he was fighting, the injustices he was speaking out about, the political powers trying to silence him. Maybe in a moment of frustration he did say to Mary, “What concern is this wine issue to you and to me?” We have bigger issues to deal with, mother. But in that conversation between mother and son something was said, (something John kept hidden) wisdom came from a woman who knew something of the extraordinary within the ordinary, and something happened that reoriented Jesus to paying attention to a small act of kindness and compassion. How often do we neglect the small acts of kindness and compassion because we think they are not as important as the miracles? But what if those small acts of kindness and compassion are the miracles?
Contained in the first eleven verses of John chapter two are about a thousand sermons. I’ve given you at least four to choose from today. You can decide which one, if any of these, feels most relevant to you. The sermon I didn’t preach on John’s Christology and his construction of Jesus’ identity as the Christ working off that line attributed to Jesus, “My hour had not yet come.” Or the lesson found in the parenthetical – the lesson about sharing resources and acknowledging that it is often the poorest among us who are the most generous in providing the resources needed to build God’s kingdom here on earth. Maybe you needed to hear today the word about taking something common and making it holy – finding something extraordinary in the ordinary. Or maybe you connected to the idea that the small acts of kindness and compassion are as equally important as fighting the big battles of injustice.
I don’t have a nice neat deeply theological ending to wrap up this sermon. All I can think about is how that common outing with Donna Steely 26 years ago at Château Morrisette tasting wine and both of us going a little beyond our capacity now seems like a holy moment. And so, I leave you with this blessing. In the days ahead, may you find what is holy in all that is common in your life. For that is the work of miracles.
