Lent 2: When Your Mom Makes You Party

Scripture John 2:1-11

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.’ 

When Your Mom Makes You Party 

This scripture is one of my favorites. In every gospel, Jesus gathers folks, shares wine and breaks bread, and invites people to the table, even the ones frowned upon in society. Jesus makes a ministry and life out of gathering, feasting, and sharing good food and wine. He parties, celebrates, and teaches folks to do the same. Jesus loves a party so much that haters call him a “drunkard and a glutton.” He loves parties. Except maybe this party…

Jesus is at a family wedding when the caterer runs out of wine. While Jesus could not care less about this faux pas, hi mom cares a lot. And when she asks him to help, saying, “They have no wine,” Jesus responds, “Woman, what concern is that to you and me?”

I imagine him huddled up with a few friends in the corner, a little bothered at having to attend. I do not know if it is horror at his uncle's dance moves or how one of his aunties is giving a toast that gets longer with every sip of wine, or if this is perhaps his least favorite cousin. But no matter the reason, his presence is, well, lacking enthusiasm. It is giving sulky, salty teen vibes, even though Jesus is a 30-year-old man and should feel a little more comfortable and confident in his own skin.

A Language of Miracles

The Gospel of John begins with a party and ends with one, too: a sunrise beach barbecue with Jesus’ closest friends. The Gospel of John is unique among the early voices sharing the Good News of Jesus. Every Gospel shares the language of miracles. It is the language of the ancient world; stories of divinities and demigods, spirited encounters, flashes of divine intervention, and astonishing healing. It is a way ancient people shared the impact and power of someone they loved or some moment that mattered in a powerful way, and it is not uniquely Christian. It is a language shared by many, and it may not be the exact language we are fluent in these days, but it is important to understand scripture in context.

Every Gospel shares these wonders and sacred moments, but John offers a unique voice. It’s the second chapter, Jesus is 30, and turning water into wine at a family wedding, mostly because his mom gave him a look and made him. In the second chapter of Luke, shepherds are keeping watch in the fields and Caesar is demanding a pregnant woman show up for a census. In the second chapter of Matthew, the Magi are following a star with astonishing gifts and King Herod’s ego is about to rain violence on every baby boy. But here in the Gospel of John, Jesus is a fully grown adult man, baptized by John the Baptist, lining up his disciples and, I guess, still hanging out with his mom at a family wedding. And his first act, his first miracle, is at a party.

Every gospel, even the ones excluded from our canon, shares signs and wonders, but John is the only one to kick things off with a party. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all share a story of healing and contain a note about Jesus returning from the wilderness to read a scroll in his hometown synagogue. But in John, the first sign and wonder is really domestic; it centers wine at a family wedding.

That’s a real Shame or Honor

Jesus’ first miracle in John is domestic, and maybe that is why his mom has to force him to do something, because she lives in the real, the everyday stuff of life. Running out of wine at a feast in the ancient world is not just a little party foul, but a real shame. The Roman Empire runs on shame and honor, like an invisible ledger. And your behavior does not just impact your account with the neighbors; any blessing or blunder is passed along to your entire family.

Like Bridgerton or Downton Abbey or Disney’s Mulan, honor is life. In Luke 14, Jesus is at the table sharing a Sabbath meal with religious and political leaders, including Pharisees, who are not always bad guys. He goes from participant to observer, noting how folks want the seat of honor, which you should know comes with better meat and better wine, and maybe better chats with the host. Jesus shares a story asking everyone to choose a different set of table manners. It is his way of rejecting Roman imperial domination at the very tables where folks gather. It is ordinary and domestic and apparently, shocking.

Just Say No!

As a young adult, this scripture was sort of a thorn in the side of the fundamentalists I encountered at FCA and the Navigators. They loved easy lists, and absence from sex, drugs, and alcohol were the topics on frequent rotation in para-church ministry settings for teens. And Jesus turning water into wine made it really hard to suggest a glass of wine might be a sin. These leaders explained that wine was obviously safer to drink than water before treatment plants, and then shifted focus to Jesus blessing a wedding between one man and one woman, though this is not clear in the text.

Of course this was not the only place to get your abstinence message. It was the 90s, the war on drugs was as present as the Orange Julius in the shopping mall food court. Nancy Reagan told us to “just say no!” There was a PSA comparing your teenage brain to an egg just before they cracked it into a sizzling hot frying pan to say, “This is your brain on drugs.” The commercial may have ended with “Any questions?” but it certainly did not feel like an invitation to chat about how to take care of my precious egg-brain.

Any talk of drugs and alcohol, let alone actually trying them, seemed to certainly be a sin, at least if you were reading the Apostle Paul and hanging out with the FCA youth group leaders who suggested kids needed to go to AA if they partied more than once with the college marching band. True story, not mine, but still a true story.

I, of course, was a DARE role model, even if I had never been invited to the kind of party where I would have actually given such dangerous living a try. Even as I left these high control religious groups, their lessons were so ingrained it was hard to let go. I watched my aunties order a glass of wine or my mom enjoy one margarita at a Mexican restaurant and feared for their mortal souls. Maybe that is why Jesus, coming out of his time with John the Baptist, is a little timid at his mom’s request to turn water into wine. They shared the same values but different ways to get there.

Really, we passed Prohibition!?!?

American Christianity is unique in taking passions for temperance and abstinence from alcohol to an extreme. Europeans looked at America’s trial run with Prohibition and considered it, at best, a misguided attempt at social engineering. The temperance movement starts alongside the abolition and suffrage movements. The Industrial Revolution and waves of new Americans were flooding the East Coast cities. And immigrants often brought more dreams than resources, leaving them exceptionally vulnerable to predatory practices and abject poverty. Reformers saw the struggles, the injustices, and the danger of social and individual choices on families. Mechanized distillation made alcohol stronger than ever, and male income earners often spent their wages at the pub. Domestic violence and family poverty were made even worse by men drinking. So reform-minded Americans worked for temperance.

Their intentions may have been good, but the anti-immigrant undercurrent did not really mind the righteous people looking to hinder immigrant businesses and culture. Waves of immigrants from Germany, Ireland, Bohemia, Italy, Scandinavia and eastern Europe made their way to America. They were Lutheran and Catholic rather than English Protestants with Puritan roots. They brought their religion, their music and holidays, and they brewed new beers and distilled spirits. Prohibition challenged their culture, eliminated immigrant businesses, and many Americans experienced it as an invasion of their rights. That certainly did not stop the social ills and harm of addiction that reformers were focused on changing.

The thing is, absolutes should be a sign to us that something is not quite right. Because just saying no may not always be faithful. Faith requires wonder and challenge and real reflection on what is life giving.

And it is not just Christian theology of the past. Even as fundamentalists soften their edges, there is still a preference for absolutes. Knowing Jesus Ministries, which seems to really be one guy with a website, will tell you today that drinking may not be a sin, reminding everyone that Jesus turned water into wine, but he says drinking too much is definitely a sin. And this may be worth some personal reflection, but giving a range on a Blood Alcohol Content scale to identify if you are a sinner or not seems to be missing the point.

Making Resistance Irresitable 

Jesus turns water into wine. It was domestic and everyday, and it really has almost nothing to do with Jesus blessing weddings or the consumption of wine. Jesus invites people to the table and mixes up the seating chart and challenges us to do the same. He reminds people of the power they have, the power to reject the empire's values at their very own dinners and parties and weddings and feasts. He breaks bread, shares the cup, and picks up the basin and towel to wash feet like a servant. And this is the important part. He invites his followers to do the same. Because resisting the systems of power and domination is hard work, arduous work, and here Jesus makes resistance irresistible.

Resistance becomes irresistible when it is filled with joy, when there is plenty, when the folks gathered share life together and love with action. The Gospel of John ends with Jesus hosting a beach barbecue and it starts with a party. Maybe he was a little unsure, but when his mom gives him the look he turns water into wine. Just when folks thought the party was over, the catering was looking sparse, and the DJ was about to pack up, there was more wine. And it is the best wine.

Love and justice are hard work. They can leave us feeling tired and sad and angry, and joy can feel far away. Abundance is hard in a world of scarcity. Joy is hard in a world of fear and domination. But Jesus spends his entire ministry reminding people it is not. You get to set the table and extend the invitations.

And it all started because his mama gave him a look at a family wedding. Amen.