It was just an ordinary wedding. Friends and family gathered to celebrate the happy couple. Food and wine, laughter and dancing - it was just an ordinary wedding, until the wine ran out. I wonder who else noticed, besides Mary. Did any other guests hear the servants’ strained whispers, see the horror-filled glances across the room, notice the flurry of activity as all available helpers slid out of sight to frantically discuss the options?
Mary noticed, and she knew who to talk to. I wonder how she pulled Jesus aside, wonder what tone of voice she used to say those simple words - “They have no wine.” Was it frantic? Strained? Matter-of-fact? Something else?
I love those moments when we catch sight of the clear humanity of Jesus - his frustration when the disciples still don’t understand what he’s telling them, all the times he desperately sneaks off for some time alone, his grief and tears when his friend Lazarus dies.
It seems like this opening exchange is another such moment - perhaps Jesus wants to be normal for just a bit longer. Perhaps he’s annoyed and embarrassed that his mom won’t leave him alone when he’s just trying to have a good time with his friends. Perhaps he’s not sure how his ministry will begin, but he’s fairly certain that it will be with something slightly more important than replenishing the wine at a wedding celebration.
And so he tells his mother, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” Not my party, not my problem.
[As an aside, my imagination runs wild with this scene and I secretly wish that the exchange went like this: Mary notices that the wine has run out, and awkwardly pulls Jesus away from the dancing or the buffet line or a group of friends right before the punchline of a story. He looks annoyed, is clearly distracted, and tries to wave off her statement. “No wine. And? What do you want me to do about it?” He is not understanding the gravity of the situation, so Mary goes into full-on mom-mode (sounding very suspiciously like Sheldon’s mom in The Big Bang Theory): “Now you listen up, Jesus. God may be your Father, but I am your mother, and these people need your help. Don’t think I haven’t seen your little ‘experiments’. I know you can do something about this. So do it!” But, back to the story - ]
Despite Jesus' reluctance, Mary does not take “no” for an answer. She instructs the servants to “Do whatever he tells you” and presumably leaves them to it.
I love what Mary does here. And I love what it reminds us about ourselves and about God.
First, I think it reminds us of how sometimes we need the people who know us best to give us a nudge toward sharing our gifts for the sake of our neighbors. It can be scary to put ourselves out there. Perhaps we don’t think our gifts are all that good. Perhaps we aren’t sure we even have any gifts. Perhaps we don’t want to seem like we’re bragging or showing off. Perhaps we don’t see how our particular gifts could be put to use. Perhaps we haven’t even noticed that there is a need.
In those moments, we are blessed by the “Marys” in our life who, knowing our unique gifts and abilities, come alongside us and give an accounting of the situation: They have no wine. There are no teachers. A visitor just walked in. They have no food. They have no ride. Implied is the nudge - and you can do something about it.
As we heard in First Corinthians: “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” You are a gifted Child of God. You are an indispensable part of the Body of Christ. You have been given the Holy Spirit which empowers you to serve.
And also - these gifts you have? They are for the common good. They are not to be squirreled away, hidden under a bushel, or selfishly held until you yourself have use of them. Instead, they are to be signs that point others to God’s generosity and abundance and care.
There is a little-remembered part of our congregation Constitution that outlines the council’s responsibility to look for and encourage individuals in their discernment of a call to rostered ministry as a pastor or deacon in our Church. Together, we notice gifts in one another, name these gifts, and provide opportunities for them to be explored and practiced.
And then, when the individuals who decide to follow this path come before the Candidacy Committee, we ask them about both their internal sense of call and their external sense of call. It is not enough to feel personally that you have been gifted and called. These gifts and this call must also have been noticed, prodded, and encouraged by those around you.
I wonder - who are the “Marys” who have asked, encouraged, or demanded that you share your gifts with the world? For whom have you been a “Mary”, nudging, inviting, and making space for others to share their unique and important gifts?
Mary nudges and Jesus acts. Behind the scenes, in partnership with the servants, water becomes wine - really good wine. For however simple or unimportant this act seems - replenishing the wine for a wedding celebration for people who are already too drunk to appreciate how good it is - it is a sign that reveals the glory, generosity, and abundance of God.
We, too, are called to point to the glory of God. We are charged in baptism to “let our light so shine before others that they may see our good works and glorify our father in heaven.” We point to God’s generosity and abundance with our own words and actions that show love for our neighbors.
And, perhaps more importantly, we do so with our failings. God forbid that anyone look at us and think that it is our goodness or kindness or perfection that has made us right in God’s eyes. Instead, let us tell again and again how it is God’s grace, and God’s grace alone, that brings us to each new day, empowers us to serve, and compels us to love. Let us tell, again and again, that when we are selfish, spiteful, or mean, God’s grace envelops us and works to soften our heart and sweeten our tongue. Let us tell, again and again, of the forgiveness and mercy from God that bring us wholeness and life.
What is more generous than a God who put on flesh to dwell with us? What is more generous than a God who offers God’s own body to strengthen and nourish us? What is more abundant than the grace that is extravagantly and freely given to all?
Mary noticed, and she knew who to talk to. I wonder how she pulled Jesus aside, wonder what tone of voice she used to say those simple words - “They have no wine.” Was it frantic? Strained? Matter-of-fact? Something else?
I love those moments when we catch sight of the clear humanity of Jesus - his frustration when the disciples still don’t understand what he’s telling them, all the times he desperately sneaks off for some time alone, his grief and tears when his friend Lazarus dies.
It seems like this opening exchange is another such moment - perhaps Jesus wants to be normal for just a bit longer. Perhaps he’s annoyed and embarrassed that his mom won’t leave him alone when he’s just trying to have a good time with his friends. Perhaps he’s not sure how his ministry will begin, but he’s fairly certain that it will be with something slightly more important than replenishing the wine at a wedding celebration.
And so he tells his mother, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” Not my party, not my problem.
[As an aside, my imagination runs wild with this scene and I secretly wish that the exchange went like this: Mary notices that the wine has run out, and awkwardly pulls Jesus away from the dancing or the buffet line or a group of friends right before the punchline of a story. He looks annoyed, is clearly distracted, and tries to wave off her statement. “No wine. And? What do you want me to do about it?” He is not understanding the gravity of the situation, so Mary goes into full-on mom-mode (sounding very suspiciously like Sheldon’s mom in The Big Bang Theory): “Now you listen up, Jesus. God may be your Father, but I am your mother, and these people need your help. Don’t think I haven’t seen your little ‘experiments’. I know you can do something about this. So do it!” But, back to the story - ]
Despite Jesus' reluctance, Mary does not take “no” for an answer. She instructs the servants to “Do whatever he tells you” and presumably leaves them to it.
I love what Mary does here. And I love what it reminds us about ourselves and about God.
First, I think it reminds us of how sometimes we need the people who know us best to give us a nudge toward sharing our gifts for the sake of our neighbors. It can be scary to put ourselves out there. Perhaps we don’t think our gifts are all that good. Perhaps we aren’t sure we even have any gifts. Perhaps we don’t want to seem like we’re bragging or showing off. Perhaps we don’t see how our particular gifts could be put to use. Perhaps we haven’t even noticed that there is a need.
In those moments, we are blessed by the “Marys” in our life who, knowing our unique gifts and abilities, come alongside us and give an accounting of the situation: They have no wine. There are no teachers. A visitor just walked in. They have no food. They have no ride. Implied is the nudge - and you can do something about it.
As we heard in First Corinthians: “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” You are a gifted Child of God. You are an indispensable part of the Body of Christ. You have been given the Holy Spirit which empowers you to serve.
And also - these gifts you have? They are for the common good. They are not to be squirreled away, hidden under a bushel, or selfishly held until you yourself have use of them. Instead, they are to be signs that point others to God’s generosity and abundance and care.
There is a little-remembered part of our congregation Constitution that outlines the council’s responsibility to look for and encourage individuals in their discernment of a call to rostered ministry as a pastor or deacon in our Church. Together, we notice gifts in one another, name these gifts, and provide opportunities for them to be explored and practiced.
And then, when the individuals who decide to follow this path come before the Candidacy Committee, we ask them about both their internal sense of call and their external sense of call. It is not enough to feel personally that you have been gifted and called. These gifts and this call must also have been noticed, prodded, and encouraged by those around you.
I wonder - who are the “Marys” who have asked, encouraged, or demanded that you share your gifts with the world? For whom have you been a “Mary”, nudging, inviting, and making space for others to share their unique and important gifts?
Mary nudges and Jesus acts. Behind the scenes, in partnership with the servants, water becomes wine - really good wine. For however simple or unimportant this act seems - replenishing the wine for a wedding celebration for people who are already too drunk to appreciate how good it is - it is a sign that reveals the glory, generosity, and abundance of God.
We, too, are called to point to the glory of God. We are charged in baptism to “let our light so shine before others that they may see our good works and glorify our father in heaven.” We point to God’s generosity and abundance with our own words and actions that show love for our neighbors.
And, perhaps more importantly, we do so with our failings. God forbid that anyone look at us and think that it is our goodness or kindness or perfection that has made us right in God’s eyes. Instead, let us tell again and again how it is God’s grace, and God’s grace alone, that brings us to each new day, empowers us to serve, and compels us to love. Let us tell, again and again, that when we are selfish, spiteful, or mean, God’s grace envelops us and works to soften our heart and sweeten our tongue. Let us tell, again and again, of the forgiveness and mercy from God that bring us wholeness and life.
What is more generous than a God who put on flesh to dwell with us? What is more generous than a God who offers God’s own body to strengthen and nourish us? What is more abundant than the grace that is extravagantly and freely given to all?
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