You Matter
The next
day there was a wedding celebration in the village of Cana in Galilee. Jesus’
mother was there and Jesus and his disciples were also
invited to the celebration. The wine supply ran out during the festivities, so
Jesus’ mother told him, “They have no more wine.” “Dear woman, that’s not our problem,” Jesus replied. “My time has not yet come.” But his mother told the servants, “Do
whatever he tells you.”
Standing
nearby were six stone water jars, used for Jewish ceremonial washing. Each could
hold twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus told the servants, “Fill the jars with water.” When the jars had been filled, he
said, “Now dip
some out, and take it to the master of ceremonies.” So the servants followed his
instructions. When the master of ceremonies tasted the water that was now wine,
not knowing where it had come from (though, of course, the servants knew), he
called the bridegroom over. “A host always serves the best wine first,” he
said. “Then, when everyone has had a lot to drink, he brings out the less
expensive wine. But you have kept the best until now!”
This miraculous sign at Cana in
Galilee was the first time Jesus revealed his glory. And his disciples believed
in him. (John 2:1-11)
There’s no
do-over’s when it comes to making a first impression. And our first impression of
Jesus’ glory leaves some of us wondering whether he kind of missed the mark by
not going big. You know, like raising the dead, or vacating an entire cemetery
for that matter. Because first impressions are crucial, and this was Jesus’ first
miracle; it was supposed to be a harbinger of things to come. And changing
water to wine … well, it just seems like a nifty chemistry experiment.
The plot
is almost too simple. Jesus and his disciples are at a wedding. The host runs
out of wine. All the stores are closed, so Jesus, at his mother’s encouragement,
transforms six jugs of water into six jugs of wine. That’s it. That’s the
lead-off hit. Pretty low key, it seems. Certainly doesn’t have the punch of
calling a person back from the dead, or the flair of straightening a crippled
leg. Or does it? It was the equivalent of producing some 600 to 900 bottles of
wine; a veritable boutique winery. But the content and the quantity of the
miracle is not the key. So, maybe there’s more to this than first meets the eye.
You see, a
wedding in the day of Christ was no small event. It usually began with a Wednesday
sundown ceremony at the synagogue. People would then leave the church and begin
a long, candlelight procession through the city, winding their way through the
soft evening sunlight of the city streets. The couple would be escorted past as
many homes as possible so that everyone could wish them well. But after the
processional, the couple didn’t go on a honeymoon; the honeymoon came to them.
The new
couple came home to a party. And for several days there would be gift-giving,
speechmaking, food-eating and, yes, wine drinking. Food and wine were taken
very seriously. The host honored the guests by keeping their plates full and
their cups overflowing. It was considered an insult to the guests if the host
ran out of food, or wine. In fact, hospitality at a wedding was a sacred duty.
So serious were these customs that, if not properly observed, the host could
get sued. “Without wine,” said the rabbis, “there is no joy.” So, wine was
crucial, not for drunkenness (which was considered a disgrace), but for what it
demonstrated. The presence of wine acknowledged that this was a special day,
and that all of the guests were special guests. The absence of wine, then, was
a social embarrassment.
Mary,
Jesus’ mother, is one of the first to notice that the wine’s run out. So, she
goes to her son and points out the problem: “They have no more wine.” And Jesus’
response? “Dear woman, that’s not our problem. My time has not yet come.” (John
2:4) It’s almost as though Mary said, “Jesus, they’re out of wine, and we really need to do something,” to
which Jesus responds, “What do you mean ‘we,’ mom”? Kind of like the time when
the Lone Ranger and Tonto were surrounded by an entire tribe of Indians.
Turning to his Indian companion, the Lone Ranger says, “Tonto, I think we’re in
trouble.” Tonto looks back at the Lone Ranger and responds, “What do you mean, ‘we,’ kemosabe?” Now was not the time for
Jesus’ first miracle.
Jesus was very
conscious of time, and he spoke of it often throughout his ministry. “The right
time for me has not yet come.” (John 7:6) “The time has come for the Son of Man
to receive his glory.” (John 12:23) “The chosen time is near.” (Matt. 26:18) “The
time has come for the Son of Man to be handed over to sinful people.” (Mark
14:41) “He looked toward heaven and prayed, ‘Father, the time has come….’”
(John 17:1) These phrases imply that Jesus had a schedule; a certain order and
time for specified events. The mission of Christ had been carefully thought out
and planned. So, he had a time and a place for his first miracle, and this wasn’t
the time because the time wasn’t right. (John 2:4)
Jesus knew
the plan, and this was neither the time nor the place for implementing the
plan. And it appears that he was going to stick with the plan. But as he hears
his mother, and looks into the faces of the wedding party, he reconsiders. The
significance of the plan is slowly eclipsed by his concern for the people.
Timing’s important, but people are more so. So, Jesus changes his plan to meet
the needs of his friends. Heaven’s schedule is altered so some friends won’t be
embarrassed. The inaugural miracle is motivated not by tragedy or moral
collapse, but out of concern for some friends who are in a bind.
And those
of us who’re concerned with making good first impressions are left a little
bewildered, maybe even a little bothered, because everything about this event seems
wrong. Wrong time. Wrong place. Wrong crowd. Wrong miracle. We want Jesus to
stick to his schedule because this isn’t the way it had been planned. But then
again, if you’ve ever been embarrassed, then you like this story a lot because
this miracle tells you that what matters to you matters to God.
We may think
that’s true when it comes to the big stuff. When it comes to the major-league
difficulties like death, disease, sin, and disaster — we know that God cares. But
what about the smaller things? What about grouchy bosses, or flat tires or lost
dogs? What about broken dishes, late flights, toothaches, or a crashed hard drive?
Do these matter to God? Because we know that God’s got a universe to run,
planets to keep in balance, wars with which to be worried and famines to fix. So,
who am I to tell God about my ingrown toenail? Fortunately, God has already answered
that question.
You are an
heir of God, and a co-heir with Christ. (Rom. 8:17) You’re eternal, like an
angel. (Luke 20:36) You’re a holy priest (1 Pet. 2:5), a treasured possession.
(Ex. 19:5) You were chosen before the creation of the world. (Eph. 1:4) You are
destined for “praise, fame, and honor, and you will be a holy people to the
Lord your God.” (Deut. 26:19) But more than any of these — more significant
than any title or position — is the simple fact that you are God’s child. “The
Father has loved us so much that we are called children of God. And we really
are his children.” (1 John 3:1)
I like that
last phrase, “We really are his children.” It’s as if John knew some of us
would shake our heads and say, “Naw, not me. Mother Teresa, maybe. Billy
Graham, perhaps. But me? Not so much.” If those are your feelings, then John,
through inspiration, added that phrase just for you. “We really are his
children.” In other words, if something’s important to you, it’s important to
God. And if you’re a parent, you already know that.
Imagine if
you noticed an infected sore on the hand of your five-year-old. You ask him
what’s wrong, and he says that it’s a splinter. You then ask him when it
happened, and he says last week. So you ask him why he didn’t tell you sooner,
and he says, “I didn’t want to bother you. I knew you had all those things to do
around the house and at work, and I didn’t want to get in your way.”“Get in my
way? I’m your dad, and you’re my child. My job is to help you. I hurt when you
hurt.” Similarly, because you are God’s child, if it’s important to you, it’s
important to God.
Why did
Jesus change the water to wine? To impress the crowd? No, they didn’t even know
he did it. To get the wedding’s master of ceremonies’ attention? No, he thought
the groom was being generous. So, why did Jesus do it? What motivated his first
miracle? His friends were at risk of being embarrassed, and what bothered them
bothered him. If it hurts the child, it hurts the father.
So tell
God what hurts. Talk to him. He won’t turn you away. He won’t think it’s silly.
“For our high priest is able to understand our weaknesses. When he lived on
earth, he was tempted in every way that we are, but he did not sin. Let us,
then, feel very sure that we can come before God’s throne where there is grace.”
(Heb. 4:15-16)
Does God
care about the little things in our lives? Yes, he does – because you matter.
Grace,
Randy
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