When The Wine Runs Out
John 2:1-11
2:1 On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. 2 Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. 3 When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine."4 And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come." 5 His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you." 6 Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. 7 Jesus said to them, "Fill the jars with water." And they filled them up to the brim.8 He said to them, "Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward." So they took it.9 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 bridegroom10 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."11 Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.
--------------------------
What do you do with a passage like this one, when you feel empty? When your faith and hope have run out?
What do you do when you’re a disciple who believes in Him, but you’re just at a place where the bottom has fallen out on faith and hope, and suddenly you find yourself saying something to the Lord like, “Don’t tell me anymore lies about the abundant life.”
(There is no point in pretending with the Lord Jesus Christ.)
What do you do then with a story that tells you He could and did miraculously turn water into wine, the first time He revealed His glory?
I don’t have an easy answer. I’m not even sure I have an answer. But, because I believe in Him, I want to struggle with this passage. At this time, this story serves me as a metaphor for running out of joy in life. (Have any of you been there?)
I see that when the wine is over, Mary goes to Jesus. She knew Him so well, and was the first person (quite literally) to receive Jesus into her life -- His first disciple. Mary goes to Jesus when the wine gave out. She doesn’t tell Him what to do. She just tells Him the facts: “They have no wine.” And, then, (like many good mothers) she ignores her son’s response, and says to the servants: “Do whatever He tells you.”
She does two things that strike me as smart: She goes to Jesus. She says, “Do whatever He tells you.”
Wine was a necessary part of celebrating a Jewish wedding. It certainly contributed to the joie-de-vivre of this occasion. Running out of wine is a real problem at a Jewish wedding, and a real embarrassment to the host. It could cut the celebrations short.
I wonder whose wedding it was that the Lord graced. Maybe a cousin of Nathaniel’s? An internet search showed me that Nathaniel is from Cana (John 1:45). Maybe that’s how Jesus and his disciples, all of whom were close to Nathaniel, were invited to this wedding, too.
I don’t know. But, I’ve always thought that this couple and their guests were extremely blessed to have Jesus at this wedding. Imagine a wedding guest list with Jesus on it! Of course, He really should be the chief guest at every Christian wedding.
But, now I digress.
So, what does one do with this passage, when His glory appears hidden, when His power seems absent, when the “wine” has long run out of one’s life?
Here’s this wedding celebration, people are probably laughing and talking and dancing, and there are large, impressive, jars around. But, right there in the middle of a grand celebration of marriage, in the middle of all the gaiety there is emptiness: The wine has run out. And there isn’t even any purifying water in the jars. The large jars look terribly impressive because they can hold 20 to 30 gallons of water – but look inside and they are empty. The laughter hides the reality that the wine has run out. There’s no more wine to look forward to.
It’s interesting to me that Jesus doesn’t think that this is His concern. Look at His reply to his mother: "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come."
After all, I suppose, as Mary had said, “They have no wine.” Well, neither of them were the hosts, neither of them craved more wine and so, well, it wasn’t their concern. At least, that’s Jesus’ first response. “My hour has not yet come.” He adds. Maybe He just wanted to enjoy a wedding without much ado as the Son of God. Maybe He would have preferred if His first sign involved healing the sick, or bringing back the dead or restoring sight or setting the captives free. Maybe the ideal coming out for the Son of God would have been meeting a dire need miraculously.
Wanting more wine at a wedding seems almost greedy. Surely, unnecessary? It doesn’t have the same ring as needing your sight restored, for example.
It’s interesting to me that despite Jesus’ initial reluctance, He re-adjusts to the moment and request at hand. The wine isn’t about Him, and this isn’t his preferred or divinely ordained time for a miracle, but He responds to His mother’s request about the situation at hand anyway.
And how!
All He has to work with are empty jars.
Six stone jars that can hold twenty or thirty gallons are filled “to the brim” with water, which is then turned to the “good wine,” better than any that had been had so far. You do the math, but that’s a lot of extra wine! I imagine that the festivities did go on for a good bit longer and the wedding celebrations just got more riotous, and the joy overflowed.
This, John says was Jesus’ first sign, which revealed His glory.
When the chief steward tastes this wine his expectations are low. He’s expecting inferior wine. He was actually expecting too much, as reality would have it. Without Jesus, there was no more wine, not even the inferior kind.
But Jesus changes that reality.
This is a wedding. A cause for much celebration. A time of joy that is appropriately celebrated with gusto. And this is not lost on the Son of God. He does in the end turn water into wine – lots of it. I’m sure none have tasted the likes of that day’s Cana wine that Jesus produced miraculously and abundantly.
His disciples, who were there and witnessed the whole thing, “believed in him.”
Maybe this is what one takes away from this story, even after one has said to Jesus, “Don’t tell me anymore lies about the abundant life.” Maybe, especially after one has said that.
“Believe in him.”
I mean, here is a story of abundance in celebrating one of life’s great joys. Jesus is there, central and indispensable in prolonging that joy. This is not a place of weeping that Jesus transforms to singing. This is a place of celebration that Jesus raises to a whole new level – miraculously -- so that the party goes on with plenty more good wine.
This was the Son of God’s first sign.
It’s a little reminder of God’s great goodness. The abundance of it. The extravagance of it. The joy of it. The sweetness of it. The substance of it. The miracle of it.
A little reminder that God is not out to get us.
Jesus has jars filled to the brim with water – and then turns it into the evening’s best wine. All when it isn’t His concern, His initiative, or His hour.
What, then, will He do when it is His concern?
We are His concern. He took the initiative to save us and come to us. His hour has come. His glory has been fully revealed.
Perhaps that’s what one does with this story at a time when the bottom has fallen out of faith and hope, and emptiness rather than overflowing joy is the order of the day: Remind oneself of the character of the Lord Jesus. Remind ourselves that we are His concern. “The mother of Jesus” went to Him when the wine had run out because she knew Him well. He responded to His mother because she was His concern.
This story reminds me of Jesus. Of who He is. Not just of His power, but of Him. Isn’t it telling that His first sign was intended to extend and heighten a joyous celebration? He’s not meager in His giving. Gosh, no! He’s not Scrooge. He’s Jesus. He gave His life for us.
And I know Him. And I believe in Him. So, I go to Him.
“Lord, the wine has run out.”
Now, will I trust Him enough to do whatever He says?
2:1 On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. 2 Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. 3 When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine."4 And Jesus said to her, "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come." 5 His mother said to the servants, "Do whatever he tells you." 6 Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. 7 Jesus said to them, "Fill the jars with water." And they filled them up to the brim.8 He said to them, "Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward." So they took it.9 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 bridegroom10 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."11 Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.
--------------------------
What do you do with a passage like this one, when you feel empty? When your faith and hope have run out?
What do you do when you’re a disciple who believes in Him, but you’re just at a place where the bottom has fallen out on faith and hope, and suddenly you find yourself saying something to the Lord like, “Don’t tell me anymore lies about the abundant life.”
(There is no point in pretending with the Lord Jesus Christ.)
What do you do then with a story that tells you He could and did miraculously turn water into wine, the first time He revealed His glory?
I don’t have an easy answer. I’m not even sure I have an answer. But, because I believe in Him, I want to struggle with this passage. At this time, this story serves me as a metaphor for running out of joy in life. (Have any of you been there?)
I see that when the wine is over, Mary goes to Jesus. She knew Him so well, and was the first person (quite literally) to receive Jesus into her life -- His first disciple. Mary goes to Jesus when the wine gave out. She doesn’t tell Him what to do. She just tells Him the facts: “They have no wine.” And, then, (like many good mothers) she ignores her son’s response, and says to the servants: “Do whatever He tells you.”
She does two things that strike me as smart: She goes to Jesus. She says, “Do whatever He tells you.”
Wine was a necessary part of celebrating a Jewish wedding. It certainly contributed to the joie-de-vivre of this occasion. Running out of wine is a real problem at a Jewish wedding, and a real embarrassment to the host. It could cut the celebrations short.
I wonder whose wedding it was that the Lord graced. Maybe a cousin of Nathaniel’s? An internet search showed me that Nathaniel is from Cana (John 1:45). Maybe that’s how Jesus and his disciples, all of whom were close to Nathaniel, were invited to this wedding, too.
I don’t know. But, I’ve always thought that this couple and their guests were extremely blessed to have Jesus at this wedding. Imagine a wedding guest list with Jesus on it! Of course, He really should be the chief guest at every Christian wedding.
But, now I digress.
So, what does one do with this passage, when His glory appears hidden, when His power seems absent, when the “wine” has long run out of one’s life?
Here’s this wedding celebration, people are probably laughing and talking and dancing, and there are large, impressive, jars around. But, right there in the middle of a grand celebration of marriage, in the middle of all the gaiety there is emptiness: The wine has run out. And there isn’t even any purifying water in the jars. The large jars look terribly impressive because they can hold 20 to 30 gallons of water – but look inside and they are empty. The laughter hides the reality that the wine has run out. There’s no more wine to look forward to.
It’s interesting to me that Jesus doesn’t think that this is His concern. Look at His reply to his mother: "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come."
After all, I suppose, as Mary had said, “They have no wine.” Well, neither of them were the hosts, neither of them craved more wine and so, well, it wasn’t their concern. At least, that’s Jesus’ first response. “My hour has not yet come.” He adds. Maybe He just wanted to enjoy a wedding without much ado as the Son of God. Maybe He would have preferred if His first sign involved healing the sick, or bringing back the dead or restoring sight or setting the captives free. Maybe the ideal coming out for the Son of God would have been meeting a dire need miraculously.
Wanting more wine at a wedding seems almost greedy. Surely, unnecessary? It doesn’t have the same ring as needing your sight restored, for example.
It’s interesting to me that despite Jesus’ initial reluctance, He re-adjusts to the moment and request at hand. The wine isn’t about Him, and this isn’t his preferred or divinely ordained time for a miracle, but He responds to His mother’s request about the situation at hand anyway.
And how!
All He has to work with are empty jars.
Six stone jars that can hold twenty or thirty gallons are filled “to the brim” with water, which is then turned to the “good wine,” better than any that had been had so far. You do the math, but that’s a lot of extra wine! I imagine that the festivities did go on for a good bit longer and the wedding celebrations just got more riotous, and the joy overflowed.
This, John says was Jesus’ first sign, which revealed His glory.
When the chief steward tastes this wine his expectations are low. He’s expecting inferior wine. He was actually expecting too much, as reality would have it. Without Jesus, there was no more wine, not even the inferior kind.
But Jesus changes that reality.
This is a wedding. A cause for much celebration. A time of joy that is appropriately celebrated with gusto. And this is not lost on the Son of God. He does in the end turn water into wine – lots of it. I’m sure none have tasted the likes of that day’s Cana wine that Jesus produced miraculously and abundantly.
His disciples, who were there and witnessed the whole thing, “believed in him.”
Maybe this is what one takes away from this story, even after one has said to Jesus, “Don’t tell me anymore lies about the abundant life.” Maybe, especially after one has said that.
“Believe in him.”
I mean, here is a story of abundance in celebrating one of life’s great joys. Jesus is there, central and indispensable in prolonging that joy. This is not a place of weeping that Jesus transforms to singing. This is a place of celebration that Jesus raises to a whole new level – miraculously -- so that the party goes on with plenty more good wine.
This was the Son of God’s first sign.
It’s a little reminder of God’s great goodness. The abundance of it. The extravagance of it. The joy of it. The sweetness of it. The substance of it. The miracle of it.
A little reminder that God is not out to get us.
Jesus has jars filled to the brim with water – and then turns it into the evening’s best wine. All when it isn’t His concern, His initiative, or His hour.
What, then, will He do when it is His concern?
We are His concern. He took the initiative to save us and come to us. His hour has come. His glory has been fully revealed.
Perhaps that’s what one does with this story at a time when the bottom has fallen out of faith and hope, and emptiness rather than overflowing joy is the order of the day: Remind oneself of the character of the Lord Jesus. Remind ourselves that we are His concern. “The mother of Jesus” went to Him when the wine had run out because she knew Him well. He responded to His mother because she was His concern.
This story reminds me of Jesus. Of who He is. Not just of His power, but of Him. Isn’t it telling that His first sign was intended to extend and heighten a joyous celebration? He’s not meager in His giving. Gosh, no! He’s not Scrooge. He’s Jesus. He gave His life for us.
And I know Him. And I believe in Him. So, I go to Him.
“Lord, the wine has run out.”
Now, will I trust Him enough to do whatever He says?
posted by Ruth at 3:02 AM
1 Comments:
Wow, that's good! I love the power of that last line, and the thought of you going to him and saying to him, "The wine has run out." But, as you suggest, you have a part in this too, which is to trust and obey.
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