Encountering the Messiah: Abundant Life

We’re going to begin today as we did last week. With a little game. This is a game of seeking and finding. Behind me, throughout the space in my apartment that should be visible to you, you’ll find several crosses. I invite you to look for them and to count them as you look. I’ll give you just a minute to do that.

So, who found at least four crosses? You can give me a real thumbs up or use the “thumbs up” on Zoom. Who found five crosses? Six? Seven? There are seven paper crosses!

The reason there are seven different crosses is because in the Gospel of John there are seven signs or miracles that Jesus performs. Remember last week? When Jesus promised Nathaniel that he would see “even greater things?” These signs and miracles are part of the greater things that Jesus promised. In today’s lesson, we will see Jesus’ first sign.

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the celebration. When the wine ran out, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They don’t have any wine.”

Jesus replied, “Woman, what does that have to do with me? My time hasn’t come yet.”

His mother told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Nearby were six stone water jars used for the Jewish cleansing ritual, each able to hold about twenty or thirty gallons

Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water,” and they filled them to the brim. Then he told them, “Now draw some from them and take it to the headwaiter,” and they did. The headwaiter tasted the water that had become wine. He didn’t know where it came from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew.

The headwaiter called the groom and said, “Everyone serves the good wine first. They bring out the second-rate wine only when the guests are drinking freely. You kept the good wine until now.” This was the first miraculous sign that Jesus did in Cana of Galilee. He revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in him. --John 2:1-11 (CEB)

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

We might ask why the beginning of Jesus’ ministry begins at a wedding. Does anyone have any idea?

Let’s be honest - Jesus liked parties. He liked people. As we will see in the gospel of John, he especially liked sinners. The Jesus captured in John is a relational Jesus. Always in conversation with people. So, it makes sense that this first sign - this first miracle - should be at a celebration of relationships. The joining of two people in relationship. And their families, too. 

Weddings in Jesus’ day were a big deal. They lasted for days. Running out of wine was a huge problem for this wedding feast. The host had invited everyone to come and to celebrate. Many people probably traveled far to get there. And, now, there is nothing left for them to drink. They wouldn’t have been able to just go to the store or to make a quick run to Total Wine to get some more. Jesus’ mother - and notice that she is not named and, in fact, this is the last time we will see her until we meet her at the foot of the cross - Jesus’ mother notices that they have run out of wine. She knows that he can do something about this. So she encourages Jesus to help. Gives him a little nudge. “Come on, Jesus. It’s time for you to show the world who you are.”

But, Jesus’ response to her seems a little harsh. “Woman, what does that have to do with me?” A female clergy group I’m online with had a real problem with Jesus speaking to his mother in this way. It seems so impersonal, even unfriendly. And, while there may be many other theological reasons for this, I asked them online if any of them had a 33-year-old son. Because if you do, you know the comments that they will make to you, accompanied by the eye-rolls, right? Like, “Geez, Mom, gimme a break!” Or even “Woman, what are you talking about?” So, even with Jesus’ mother knowing his divinity, there’s something here, too, about his humanity. That he is both. Which also includes being a 33-year-old son.

But, Jesus listens to her. And then he takes these six large clay vessels. Each of them with a capacity of 20-30 gallons. And he transforms the water in them - water that was likely meant for washing and not drinking. He transforms this water into the best wine of all! But, it wasn’t just that it was the best wine of all. But, it was the amount of it. The abundance of the wine Jesus made. I did the math this week. We’re talking anywhere from 140-180 gallons of wine. That’s the equivalent of 700-900 bottles of wine. At 12 bottles per case, that’s anywhere from 58 to 75 cases of wine. So this wasn’t only the best wine. It was a huge amount - an abundant amount - of the best wine. 

The chief steward is blown away. He wonders where this wine came from. I bet the bridegroom was wondering, too. But Jesus’ mother knew. So did the servants, too. 

In the opening words of this gospel of John, what we call the prologue, we heard this witness of John: “‘He who comes after me is greater than me because he existed before me.’ From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace.” From his fullness we have all received grace upon grace.

I mentioned at the beginning that this is the first of seven signs. These signs that point the disciples and others (and us) to understand who this Jesus is and why he has come. If we continue in John’s witness we read that it is through him - God’s only Son, that God is made known to us. It is this God - revealed to us in Christ - that we learn desires only life for us. Abundant life. Bottles and cases and gallons of life for us.

I recognize that in these past couple of years and, especially, in these past few weeks it’s been hard to see that. Maybe even hard to believe this - that God desires only the most abundant life for us, a life that overflows with all of the goodness and relationships and love that you and I can imagine. 

But, as we work our way through John and through the remaining six signs it will be the last sign that will make all the difference. For Jesus’ mother. For Jesus’ disciples. And for us. That sign - the cross - will take the most hopeless of moments and transform it into the most abundant, life-giving, “grace upon grace upon grace” moment of all. For us.

May we recognize these signs that point us to God. And may we hold fast to the promise of abundant life that God promises for us, through Jesus. Amen.

Preached January 16, 2022, online with Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.

Epiphany 2

Readings: John 2:1-11, Psalm 104:14-16

 

God's Greatest Promise: Known At the Table

On the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Where do you want us to make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?” He said, “Go into the city to a certain man, and say to him, ‘The Teacher says, My time is near; I will keep the Passover at your house with my disciples.’” So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them, and they prepared the Passover meal.

When it was evening, he took his place with the twelve; and while they were eating, he said, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me.” And they became greatly distressed and began to say to him one after another, “Surely not I, Lord?” He answered, “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. The Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that one by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that one not to have been born.” Judas, who betrayed him, said, “Surely not I, Rabbi?” He replied, “You have said so.”

While they were eating, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I will never again drink of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” Matthew 26:17-30 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from God, our Creator, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

I don’t know about your families, but in mine, the best place to hear things was at our dinner table. Whether it was at the end of a day, catching up on what was going on in our lives. Whether it was in our weekly Sunday dinner at the home of either my grandparents or my great aunt and uncle. Whether it was lingering at the table after a meal at our family reunion. It was at the table where we heard the news. Where we listened to the stories of our family. Where we learned who we were.

I’m sure it was not that different with Jesus and his disciples that Passover evening. After all, they’d been living closely with each other for three years. They’d traveled together throughout the rural areas of Galilee and, then, Judea. Learning from each other. Watching Jesus interact with people. Healing them. Granting forgiveness. Feeding thousands. They’d eaten many meals together. They’d also eaten the Passover meal together. Twice.

I wonder, though, if this meal didn’t feel a little different for them. This was the first time they were celebrating the Passover meal in Jerusalem. They came to Jesus and asked him where they should make preparations for this meal. I wonder how surprised they must have been when Jesus told them that everything was already prepared. And that, as they followed Jesus’ instruction, everything simply fell into place. 

I wonder, too, how distressing it must have felt to all the disciples when they heard Jesus’ prediction of how one of them would betray them. (The word in Greek really means “hand him over.”) Did they know then that it would be Judas who would hand Jesus over to the authorities? Did they know also know then that, by the end of the Passover celebration, all of them would have denied their relationship with Jesus?

I wonder if they knew the significance of that meal. When Jesus took the loaf of bread into his hands and blessed it, were they reminded of the thousands that had been fed that day with just a few loaves of bread and a few fish? Did it remind them of God’s promise to care for them, to give them their daily bread? To give them everything they needed to live?

When Jesus gave it to them (the Greek uses the same word here as that used to describe Judas’ betrayal - to “hand over”). When Jesus handed over the bread and wine to them, did they also know that Jesus was handing over his body? And his blood? 

And, then, when Jesus used the word “covenant,” were they reminded of the blood covenant that God had made with Israel at the base of Mount Sinai? How Moses had taken sacrificial blood and sprinkled it on the people as a reminder of their mutual covenant with God? A covenant that they broke time and time again? A covenant that was never broken by God? Did the disciples understand that, in this meal, Jesus was initiating a new covenant? A new promise that would be not only for Israel, but for the Gentiles? The ethnos, in Greek? For all the nations?

As they sat around the table that Passover night, reliving a tradition maintained over centuries, a tradition that was intended to remind them of God’s action in freeing them from bondage, did they fully know what was soon to happen and how it would change everything? I wonder.

Sisters and brothers, tonight, we, too, sit around a table, some 2,000 years after that first meal. We, however, have the benefit of hindsight. We know the ending to the story. How even though we, just like those first disciples, have betrayed Jesus in one way or another in our lives, how we have “handed him over” in much the same way. Yet, how, in this meal, Jesus hands over to us his body. And his blood. In this bread and wine. Given for you. For me. For all people. 

It is here, around the table, where we learn who we are as God’s children. What depth of love God must have for us that God would hand God’s only son over? For us? 

One can only wonder. Amen.

Preached April 18, 2019, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Maundy Thursday
Readings: Matthew 26:17-30, Psalm 116:12-15.

Encountering the Messiah: Abundance

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it. When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.” Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him. John 2:1-11 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, the Messiah, Jesus Christ, the Lord. Amen.

Directly north of San Antonio, Texas, is a geographic region located in the Edwards Plateau. This area, which is called the Texas Hill Country, is located at the crossroads of West Texas, Central Texas, and South Texas. It’s also often considered the entry to the American Southwest or the American Southeast, depending on which direction one is traveling.

According to Wikipedia, it’s an area that is known for its karst topography, formed from the dissolution of soluble rocks such as limestone, dolomite, and gypsum. The terrain has a thin layer of topsoil and a large number of exposed rocks and boulders, which makes it very dry and very prone to flash flooding. It’s a scrub landscape with native vegetation that includes the yucca plant, prickly pear cactus, the ashe juniper, the Texas live oak, and wildflowers--oh, the wildflowers! In the spring, the wildflowers--particularly, the Texas bluebonnet--are everywhere.

It was settled by German immigrants in the mid-1800’s, most of whom were farmers. Today, though, this area is known mostly for tourism. And more recently, it has emerged as the center of the Texas wine industry.

I moved to Texas in the summer of 2010. That fall, as the heat of summer began to fade, my brother and sister-in-law and I decided to head to the Hill Country to taste some of that Texas wine. We decided to try out a couple of wineries in an area that was just beginning to develop--northwest of Austin, near Lake Buchanan. As we were at our last stop, our host suggested and highly recommended that we check out a brand new winery that had just opened, a few miles away off a hilly, winding, back-country road. So, we went to visit Perisso’s Vineyard and Winery.

The winery consisted of one building. On the first floor was a big open room that contained huge metal wine vats, dozens of barrels, and a few picnic tables set up for tasting. It was a pretty bare-bones operation. We soon learned that the second floor was occupied by the owners of this boutique winery--Seth and Laura Martin, and their five children. And two dogs--one a Lab and the other a huge, furry Newfoundland, named Bear. We settled at one of the picnic tables. And then we began to taste. To taste--as one of their hosts called it--to taste this “life-changing” wine.  

Over time, Perisso’s became our favorite winery. We’d stop in several times a year. We got to know Seth and Laura and their family well. In fact, we became good friends. We’d get up early in the hot August heat and help them harvest. We’d drop in on Sunday afternoons and sit under one of the huge oak trees, tasting their newest varietal and finding out which child it was named after. And each time we visited, we’d get caught up on what was happening in their family, Bear would come and hang out with us, and, yes, we’d taste wine. Some of the best wine, in fact, that I’ve ever tasted.

Over time the winery grew. They added two more buildings, an event center and another for processing and storage. Their wine club list grew from under a hundred into the thousands. And several of their wines began to win awards. First in Texas. Then, across the U.S., including at the San Francisco International Wine Competition, one of the most prestigious in the world.  They truly lived into their name, Perisso’s, which in Greek means “abundance.” 

Like the story of Perisso’s Vineyard, wine and extraordinary abundance are at the center of our story today. 

But it didn’t begin so extraordinarily. In fact, it began with something pretty ordinary--a wedding. Yet, in the opening verse of our text, we already get a signal that this story may not be so ordinary. “On the third day,” we read. Does that bring something to mind? “On the third day.” When we hear these words, we know that something new is about to happen. They signal resurrection, a new and abundant life. The extraordinary. But it all begins in the ordinary. With a wedding.

Weddings in ancient Palestine lasted approximately a week, with an abundance of wine expected throughout the celebration. Jesus is a guest at the wedding in our story, along with his mother and his disciples. This is the first time in John that we are introduced to Jesus’ mother, who is never called by name in this fourth Gospel. She is simply called the “mother of Jesus.” We will see her only twice in this Gospel. Here, in this story, and at the foot of the cross with the beloved disciple. She is here at the start of Jesus’ public ministry. She will be at the end of his life. She is witness to the first revelation of Jesus’ glory and his last. In John, there is an implied shared parenthood between the earthly mother of Jesus and the heavenly Father. There is no separation or compartmentalization of Jesus’ humanity and divinity. There is no either/or. There is simply a both/and. 

Jesus’ mother comes to him to report that the wine has run out. Such an occurrence would be a major hospitality blunder. So, she approaches Jesus and says, “They ran out of wine.” Why? What does she see in that moment? What has she seen in her life with him this far that would cause her to believe that there was something he might be able to do about it? 

And how does Jesus respond? We can’t miss some of the humor here. “Well, mom, it’s really not my problem. Perhaps they should have hired a better wedding planner.” So, Jesus’ mother walks away. But, as she leaves, she stops to speak to one of the servants. “Do whatever he tells you.” She knows what will happen if he does what Jesus tells him to do. She believes in Jesus.

Something does happen. The miracle, the sign. The first sign pointing to who Jesus is and to the meaning of the phrase “grace upon grace” happens.  And it happens in an over-the-top way. Six jars. Twenty to thirty gallons per jar, filled to the brim. In today’s production standards, that would be a thousand bottles of wine. Not the cheapest, but the best wine. And at the end of the celebration. Extraordinary.

What I have figured out in these years since my family and I first visited Perisso’s Vineyard is that, while we first came for the wine, we have continued to come for the relationships. It is in the ordinariness of our friendship, our relationship with Seth and Laura and my family, that we have experienced deep abundance--the extraordinary in the midst of the ordinary. 

It’s the same for us here. We might come seeking the extraordinary. We might come seeking the miracles. Yet, we find it in the ordinary. In the grace of our day-to-day lives. In the grace of our day-to-day relationship with Jesus and one another. In the grace of Jesus’ death and resurrection and ascension and the promise of ours. Grace upon grace upon grace. Abundantly. In an over-the-top way.

Come. 

Come and see. 

Experience the extraordinary in the midst of the ordinary. The divine in the midst of the human. The grace upon grace upon grace. Abundantly. For you and for me and for everyone. In Jesus.

Amen.

Preached January 14, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
2nd Sunday after the Epiphany
Readings: Psalm 104:14-16; John 2:1-11

Chocolate and Bread and Wine

The believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the community, to their shared meals, and to their prayers. A sense of awe came over everyone. God performed many wonders and signs through the apostles. All the believers were united and shared everything. They would sell pieces of property and possessions and distribute the proceeds to everyone who needed them. Every day, they met together in the temple and ate in their homes. They shared food with gladness and simplicity. They praised God and demonstrated God’s goodness to everyone. The Lord added daily to the community those who were being saved. (Acts 2:42-47 CEB)

Holy Communion.  This is our topic tonight. 

When I talk about Holy Communion, what comes to mind for you?  Perhaps you think of the words of Jesus that are spoken each time we receive communion, the words that promise that Christ is present in the bread and wine…”This IS my body given for you” or “This IS my blood shed for you.”  

Or, perhaps, it’s the “for you.”  The understanding that Christ’s sacrifice was made for each of us and for people everywhere.  

Or perhaps, it's the words, “Do this in remembrance of me.” This meal was, after all, instituted during Passover, the festival that Israel celebrated as a remembrance of how God had fulfilled his promise to lead them from slavery into freedom, and which the earliest Christians celebrated as a remembrance of Christ’s own passover from death to life.

Or, maybe the words “Shed for you and for all people for the forgiveness of sins” are most meaningful--the knowledge that, in this meal as in our baptism, we receive forgiveness of sins and, as Luther writes, that with this forgiveness comes “life and salvation.”

So, when I mention Holy Communion, what comes to mind?  

The movie, Chocolat, is set in a quiet village in France.  It is fifteen years after the end of the second World War.  Led by its mayor, the village closely adheres to tradition.  If you lived in this village, you knew what was expected of you, you knew your place.  And, if you happened to forget, someone would be there to remind you.  

As the movie begins, they are just beginning their somber observance of the forty days of Lent.  At the same time, a newcomer, Vianne Rocher, and her daughter, Anouk, arrive in the village and begin preparations to open a shop.

Vianne is different. She wears much more colorful clothing than the village women.  She is warm and welcoming.  She is friendly and alluring.  She is very different from the townspeople and does not seem to fit in well.  Yet, one-by-one, she begins to win people over.  One-by-one, the villagers seem to fall under the mysterious spell of Vianne and her confections. One of these is her eccentric landlady, Armande.  

One by one, the villagers come, each with their own brokenness.  Armande, who is estranged from her daughter and separated from her grandson.  One a widow.  Another, a woman abused by her husband.  A couple who have grown apart from each other.  An old man seeking love and companionship.  One by one, they come.  And, soon the chocolaterie becomes a place of gathering, a place of laughter and hope, of warmth and friendship.

Yet, all of this is much to the dismay of the mayor, who begins to speak out publicly against Vianne for tempting the people during Lent, which he believes is to be a time of abstinence and denial. 

As the struggle between Vianne and the mayor intensifies, a band of river gypsies arrives and makes camp on the outskirts of the village.  While most of the town object to their presence, Vianne embraces and welcomes them and their leader, Roux, into the fold.

It is through the power of chocolate that this group of people who would not otherwise associate with each other, come to know and to love one another.  And, as we see in these clips, they celebrate.  Boy, do they celebrate!

What happens in this wonderful movie is a perfect metaphor for what happens for us in holy communion.  

Just as the chocolate was the means by which people were drawn in together, so in this bread and in this wine we are drawn into the presence of Christ and formed into community by the Holy Spirit.  

In this meal, yes, there is forgiveness, there is remembrance, there is promise, there is thanksgiving, there is joy, there is life and there is freedom.  

But, it is especially in this meal that we are transformed.  In our brokenness, we are transformed into the body of Christ and, then, sent into the world to welcome others to the feast, especially those who live on the fringes of our world.   

In our Acts reading tonight, we heard how the early believers lived after Christ rose and ascended to heaven.  They devoted themselves to the apostle’s teaching, they prayed together, they shared meals, they sold their possessions, distributing the proceeds to those in need.  

In this text, I’ve always been struck by verse 43...that as they ate together and lived fully into their lives as the body of Christ, “A sense of awe came over everyone.”

THIS is what I hope you think of and feel each time you participate in communion: awe. Awe. Awe in the wonder and mystery of this meal and it’s power to transform us. 

Eat and drink, then, with awe.  And may God perform many signs and wonders through you! 

Amen.