When the Wine runs out
Text: John 2:1-11
While this may seem hard to believe, I have periodically suffered from writer’s block. I sit down in front of a computer screen, or take a notepad and pen in hand and simply stare at the blank page. Nothing comes at all. It seems that every last creative drop has simply evaporated, and I have nothing left to give. Admittedly, that can be a real problem in my profession, given that part of the work that I do is to write a sermon every week… to try and draw out that “something” that helps us to connect our own individual stories to the Biblical story… to find our own way of connecting with God. What happens when the ideas run out? What happens when we have no energy left? What happens when we are burnt, spent, like a candle wick that has run out of wax? To borrow from the story in John’s Gospel, what happens when the wine runs out?
It doesn’t just have to be writer’s block. It can simply be that sense of being burnt out… that our job doesn’t seem to have the same appeal that it once did… that something we’re doing that we once enjoyed has become more of a chore than a pleasure. Those moments when the wine runs out, and we find ourselves running on empty, and have nothing left to give.
It is to this feeling of weariness, at least on some level, that makes the story of the Wedding at Cana so powerful. As a whole the Gospel of John is told on many different levels. Easily the most artistic of the four Biblical gospels, John takes these “sign stories,” weaves in a number of theological elements to give it a depth well beyond remembering a series of events. The story is familiar enough, and is close enough to the beginning of the Gospel of John that even the most cursory of readers will have encountered it.
The wine ran out, just when the party was about to kick into high gear. There wasn’t a whole lot to celebrate in the impoverished region of Nazareth, so everyone looked forward to a wedding. It was the one time when no expense was spared – the best food, wine and musicians were always there. And the love which passed between the bride and the groom was infectious. Young boys were dancing with the old ladies; boys and girls were flirting with one another. The wine was flowing freely.
And then the wine ran out. This is not only a tragedy in terms of the party itself. It’s humiliating for the bride and groom to not have enough for their guests. Mary comes up to her son holding an empty wine glass, obviously having made an unsuccessful trip for a refill. She whispers to him, “The wine ran out.” It would just be a matter of time before the music died down, and the dancing stopped, and the bride and groom would be looking helplessly at each other and their parents who would be mortified.
Has that ever happened to you? Life’s going along just fine, and then, without warning, the wine runs out. The life, the vitality, the joy that was your life runs out. I know all too well what that feeling is like. Last year, our daughter Megan was diagnosed with cellulitis, a bacterial skin infection for which she had to be hospitalized… This happened not once, but twice…. As a parent, it was a frightening and very anxious time, in which we felt completely helpless and drained.
Our experience certainly isn’t unique. All of us have been there at some point or another. We all know what it’s like when the wine runs out. Sometimes it’s a case of receiving a note that your boss wants to see you. You can’t remember all the details, but you do remember something about how the company was ‘right-sizing’, not even ‘down-sizing’. All ‘right-sizing’ means as far as you are concerned is that you have to go home and tell the kids you won’t be taking that trip to Disney World after all. In fact, you may even have to sell the house. It happens. Out of the blue, the wine runs out.
It can happen to any of us at any time, and with any situation of life – the death of a loved one, the diagnosis of a serious illness, encountering prejudice, or a relationship falling to pieces. When our wine runs out, we don’t know where to turn. It feels like the life has drained out of us. Our name, to use the prophet Isaiah’s apt metaphor, is “Forsaken”. We’re not at all sure at that moment if there really is any life on the other side of desolation.
Yet is it at that moment, when the wine runs out that we get a glimpse of something more. As John tells the story, he drops hints... The wine runs out… and this happens on the Third Day. Jesus tells his mother, my hour has not yet come. Yet quietly, on the sly, we get this glimpse of resurrection hope, this foretaste of Easter right at the beginning of the story. We are told that, at the word of Jesus, the jars of water are filled up to the brim and when the water is tasted, it has become wine. Not just some wine, but 180 gallons of wine! Not only that, it’s the best wine they’ve ever tasted! It’s a brief glimpse, an Epiphany, in the truest sense, that at the moment the wine runs out something new and wonderful happens from the most unexpected of places.
Right at the very beginning of the Gospel of John, we have this Easter story, of abundance overflowing when everyone else sees nothing. Where once there was shortage, scarcity and lack, there is now overflowing abundance. Despite bad planning of the wine steward, suddenly the party can continue… John is tells us when Jesus Christ sets foot on earth, when he comes among us, there is an abundance of love, an abundance of glory, remarkable epiphany.
Maybe we need to hear this story as an Easter story, a story of abundance, a story of overflowing extravagance. Where once there was shortage, scarcity and lack, there is now overflowing abundance. Think of this story from John's Gospel as a sort of parable of abundance, a promise that God will give you what you need to be a faithful, resourceful disciple.
It’s not what we do, but what God does for us. That we find the energy, the enthusiasm, the ability to do what we’re called to do from the most unexpected of places… often at those moments when we feel the most worn out and weary. Remember what I was saying about writer’s block? Something that I learned along the way is that when I am staring at a blank page. The best thing to do is start writing. Something… anything… it doesn’t matter what words hit the page, as long as something does. Even if the only words that hit the page is “I can’t think of anything” over and over and over again, it’s something. Through that process, eventually ideas begin to flow, and that incoherent typing gives way to more meaningful content. Sometimes I don’t even realize it’s happening, and then “bang” there it is… The typing of “just anything” is like filling those jars in Cana with water… and then trusting and letting God transform it into fine wine. Fill the vessels with water, and trust that God will do something wonderful with it.
It’s not a “sit and wait for it” kind of thing, but being active… After all, it was only in the tasting of the water that they discover that it had become wine. God calls us to be an actively engaged in our faith, rather than it being a passive, intellectual exercise. Moravian missionary Peter Bohler once said to Methodism founder John Wesley, “Preach faith until you have it, then, because you have it, you will preach faith.” Maybe what we learn from Cana is something like it… live faith until you have it, then, because you have it, you will live faith. It’s trusting that God is there when the wine runs out, and then suddenly, unexpectedly; we discover that there is so much more.
Amen.
While this may seem hard to believe, I have periodically suffered from writer’s block. I sit down in front of a computer screen, or take a notepad and pen in hand and simply stare at the blank page. Nothing comes at all. It seems that every last creative drop has simply evaporated, and I have nothing left to give. Admittedly, that can be a real problem in my profession, given that part of the work that I do is to write a sermon every week… to try and draw out that “something” that helps us to connect our own individual stories to the Biblical story… to find our own way of connecting with God. What happens when the ideas run out? What happens when we have no energy left? What happens when we are burnt, spent, like a candle wick that has run out of wax? To borrow from the story in John’s Gospel, what happens when the wine runs out?
It doesn’t just have to be writer’s block. It can simply be that sense of being burnt out… that our job doesn’t seem to have the same appeal that it once did… that something we’re doing that we once enjoyed has become more of a chore than a pleasure. Those moments when the wine runs out, and we find ourselves running on empty, and have nothing left to give.
It is to this feeling of weariness, at least on some level, that makes the story of the Wedding at Cana so powerful. As a whole the Gospel of John is told on many different levels. Easily the most artistic of the four Biblical gospels, John takes these “sign stories,” weaves in a number of theological elements to give it a depth well beyond remembering a series of events. The story is familiar enough, and is close enough to the beginning of the Gospel of John that even the most cursory of readers will have encountered it.
The wine ran out, just when the party was about to kick into high gear. There wasn’t a whole lot to celebrate in the impoverished region of Nazareth, so everyone looked forward to a wedding. It was the one time when no expense was spared – the best food, wine and musicians were always there. And the love which passed between the bride and the groom was infectious. Young boys were dancing with the old ladies; boys and girls were flirting with one another. The wine was flowing freely.
And then the wine ran out. This is not only a tragedy in terms of the party itself. It’s humiliating for the bride and groom to not have enough for their guests. Mary comes up to her son holding an empty wine glass, obviously having made an unsuccessful trip for a refill. She whispers to him, “The wine ran out.” It would just be a matter of time before the music died down, and the dancing stopped, and the bride and groom would be looking helplessly at each other and their parents who would be mortified.
Has that ever happened to you? Life’s going along just fine, and then, without warning, the wine runs out. The life, the vitality, the joy that was your life runs out. I know all too well what that feeling is like. Last year, our daughter Megan was diagnosed with cellulitis, a bacterial skin infection for which she had to be hospitalized… This happened not once, but twice…. As a parent, it was a frightening and very anxious time, in which we felt completely helpless and drained.
Our experience certainly isn’t unique. All of us have been there at some point or another. We all know what it’s like when the wine runs out. Sometimes it’s a case of receiving a note that your boss wants to see you. You can’t remember all the details, but you do remember something about how the company was ‘right-sizing’, not even ‘down-sizing’. All ‘right-sizing’ means as far as you are concerned is that you have to go home and tell the kids you won’t be taking that trip to Disney World after all. In fact, you may even have to sell the house. It happens. Out of the blue, the wine runs out.
It can happen to any of us at any time, and with any situation of life – the death of a loved one, the diagnosis of a serious illness, encountering prejudice, or a relationship falling to pieces. When our wine runs out, we don’t know where to turn. It feels like the life has drained out of us. Our name, to use the prophet Isaiah’s apt metaphor, is “Forsaken”. We’re not at all sure at that moment if there really is any life on the other side of desolation.
Yet is it at that moment, when the wine runs out that we get a glimpse of something more. As John tells the story, he drops hints... The wine runs out… and this happens on the Third Day. Jesus tells his mother, my hour has not yet come. Yet quietly, on the sly, we get this glimpse of resurrection hope, this foretaste of Easter right at the beginning of the story. We are told that, at the word of Jesus, the jars of water are filled up to the brim and when the water is tasted, it has become wine. Not just some wine, but 180 gallons of wine! Not only that, it’s the best wine they’ve ever tasted! It’s a brief glimpse, an Epiphany, in the truest sense, that at the moment the wine runs out something new and wonderful happens from the most unexpected of places.
Right at the very beginning of the Gospel of John, we have this Easter story, of abundance overflowing when everyone else sees nothing. Where once there was shortage, scarcity and lack, there is now overflowing abundance. Despite bad planning of the wine steward, suddenly the party can continue… John is tells us when Jesus Christ sets foot on earth, when he comes among us, there is an abundance of love, an abundance of glory, remarkable epiphany.
Maybe we need to hear this story as an Easter story, a story of abundance, a story of overflowing extravagance. Where once there was shortage, scarcity and lack, there is now overflowing abundance. Think of this story from John's Gospel as a sort of parable of abundance, a promise that God will give you what you need to be a faithful, resourceful disciple.
It’s not what we do, but what God does for us. That we find the energy, the enthusiasm, the ability to do what we’re called to do from the most unexpected of places… often at those moments when we feel the most worn out and weary. Remember what I was saying about writer’s block? Something that I learned along the way is that when I am staring at a blank page. The best thing to do is start writing. Something… anything… it doesn’t matter what words hit the page, as long as something does. Even if the only words that hit the page is “I can’t think of anything” over and over and over again, it’s something. Through that process, eventually ideas begin to flow, and that incoherent typing gives way to more meaningful content. Sometimes I don’t even realize it’s happening, and then “bang” there it is… The typing of “just anything” is like filling those jars in Cana with water… and then trusting and letting God transform it into fine wine. Fill the vessels with water, and trust that God will do something wonderful with it.
It’s not a “sit and wait for it” kind of thing, but being active… After all, it was only in the tasting of the water that they discover that it had become wine. God calls us to be an actively engaged in our faith, rather than it being a passive, intellectual exercise. Moravian missionary Peter Bohler once said to Methodism founder John Wesley, “Preach faith until you have it, then, because you have it, you will preach faith.” Maybe what we learn from Cana is something like it… live faith until you have it, then, because you have it, you will live faith. It’s trusting that God is there when the wine runs out, and then suddenly, unexpectedly; we discover that there is so much more.
Amen.
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