January 17, 2010

Clay Nelson

Epiphany 2     
John 2:1-11


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When I was still a “baby” priest, a curate in my first parish near Buffalo, New York, either the Vicar or I did a children’s homily each Sunday. So it must have been the Second Sunday in Epiphany in 1983 when I had to do a homily on the Wedding at Cana. I came up with what I thought was a clever idea. I got two pitchers. One I filled with water and in the second I put cherry Kool-Aid, what Kiwis call Raro, in the bottom. As I told the children the story I poured the water into the second. The clear water turned red. All was going well with lots of “oohs” and “aahs,” but then one little wide-eyed three-year old exclaimed, “Turn it back.” 

What is the difference between my story and the story of Jesus’ first miracle at Cana? Mine really happened. While there may be a metaphor or two to be found in it, it is historically factual. There is no historical truth in John’s account. It is a metaphorical story that John uses superbly in his Gospel to make his theological point. It is an excellent literary device. As a result we don’t have to get tangled up in questions about whether or not Jesus could turn water into wine. It never happened before or since, so it didn’t happen this time either. We don’t even have to worry about where Cana is. On my two trips to Israel I have been shown three places the tour guides swore were Cana. Since it is a mythical place it can be anywhere we want it to be. It can be anywhere transformation occurs. But don’t be distressed. The meaning of the story doesn’t depend on it having happened. It is a signpost saying Jesus was a radical change agent. It does not say following Jesus will mean we will have a cellar full of fine wine.

I don’t think what I’m saying is too shocking. Earlier this year we had another billboard that showed a famous painting of the Wedding at Cana. There was a magnifying glass over it showing the guests sneaking in bottles of wine. The caption was a question, “Gospel Truth?” Couldn’t have been too controversial, no one painted over it or tore it down.

But the metaphorical truth John is telling in his story is that controversial. He is saying that Jesus’ radical call for change, for transformation comes with a warning. It has a direct connection to his crucifixion. John connects Jesus’ first miracle, a miracle of transformation, and his crucifixion with a conversation he has with his mother on both occasions. John uses the phrase “the mother of Jesus” instead of her name on both occasions. And on both occasions Jesus addresses his mum as “woman.” The only difference in the exchange is at the wedding he tells her his hour has not yet come. In the second, he speaks from the cross – his hour has now come.

The story is full of signs and symbols the church has pointed out over the centuries: Jewish water for purification pointing to the sin-cleansing water of baptism; wine for the feast pointing to the communion cup; the marriage pointing to the intimacy of the divine-human relationship (Jesus the bridegroom and the church the bride); the wedding feast pointing to the bountiful nature of God’s reign. It is hard to say if John intended all of this in his metaphor. The nature of metaphorical language is that it often conveys more meaning than the author intended. But it is clear John intended to say that the story of Jesus is about a wedding feast where the wine never runs out.

What did this mean to John? Being a mystic he could not explain without poetic language the nature of the abundant life Jesus would have us live. But a party that never runs out of good wine comes close. What would make up an abundant life besides having a hangover? Looking at Jesus’ life it would seem to include living a life of integrity that is true to the divine image residing within us. It would mean living in the moment where guilt and dread cannot drag us down. It would involve enjoying and appreciating others and treating them with respect. It would be a life lived fearlessly. As I believe fear is the opposite of love. It would be a life where love permeated all our actions.

So the question becomes how do we join in the feast? How do we make the Jesus story our story?

Leo Tolstoy once observed, “everyone one thinks about changing the world, but no one thinks about changing him or herself.” He seems to be suggesting, that where change is concerned people prefer to behave like an ostrich. When we do it might be good to ask, if our head is in the sand, what’s up?

One of my favourite past-times on the internet is reading the comments after news reports and blogs. Some I find amusing, some intelligent, some informative but a lot of the time I see “what’s up.” These are the comments that tell others how to make the world more to the blogger’s liking. They are not offering a vision of a more perfect world for all, but blaming others with disdain for their personal dissatisfaction with the way the world is. There is no suggestion that they might take personal responsibility for making a difference or more importantly, that they are part of the problem. When I read their comments, I ask, what’s up? But it is not just bloggers who do this.

This week in response to the horrible tragedy in Haiti, a televangelist who once ran for president in the US, Pat Robertson, chose to use his popular forum to blame the victims for their tragedy. He said that the people of this island nation, one of the poorest in the world, were being afflicted because their ancestors made a pact with the devil. The supposed pact was made in the late 18th century when the slaves of this French colony rose up against their masters and threw them out. They then established the second oldest democracy in the world. What he was doing was blaming poor, black people so he wouldn’t have to look at himself. A slave revolt is a threat to anyone who holds or desires to hold power. What’s up Pat? Why not use your forum to invite people to contribute to Oxfam or some other agency trying to help? Better yet, why not contribute a significant portion of your millions to helping them? It beat’s making Christianity even harder to swallow than it already is for many.

Of course if I spend my time complaining about the likes of Pat, rather than focusing on how I change myself, I have to ask, what’s up Clay?

For if I want to be part of the transformational story of Jesus, if I want to participate in the feast that he is, I have to look at how I can be part of that story. How can I be more like him, the human face of God?

Let’s look at the Epiphany story up to now for some insight. In John’s prologue we learn that the early church saw Jesus as filled with such grace that he had to be of God. That understanding led to the recognition that the divine is fully a part of all creation. That includes us. Transformation begins in our acceptance of being one with the divine. That doesn’t make us more special than anyone else, for it is true of all of us. But it does unite us with one another. So how we treat others is how we are treating ourselves. When a child grieves for his dead parents in Haiti, it is we who are weeping. Accepting this underlying unity is the RSVP to the invitation to the wedding feast. In an abundant life there is no sense of otherness, only oneness. When we accept this we are transformed. Like Kool Aid we can’t turn back.

Last week at Jesus’ baptism we remembered that what empowered Jesus was not his belief in God but his experience of God. Jesus was open to God’s presence in both the extraordinary and ordinary aspects of life. He expected the unexpected presence of God. In the wilderness or in downtown Jerusalem he knew God is there. At a party with friends or alone in prayer, God is there. When his friends were hailing his feeding of the multitudes or when they had scattered after his arrest, God is there. At sunrise or sunset, God is there. Living an abundant life is being open in a disciplined way to experiencing God’s presence in all things. Once we experience God we are transformed. Like Kool Aid, we can’t turn back.

Once we come to the party we can’t turn back. Next week, we will hear what happened to Jesus after beginning his ministry by preaching in his hometown, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,” he said, “because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” I don’t want to be a spoil the ending, but his neighbours weren’t impressed. But he did not turn back. He went on to show us that ultimately transformation leads us to giving ourselves a way to those in need like free flowing wine at a wedding feast. His life assures us that the love within us that we call God will never be depleted.

If we really want the world to reflect the wedding feast, we must become the wine. When we do there is no turning back.