Sunday, January 17, 2010

What is that to you and me?

 2nd Sunday after the Epiphany, Year C
Jesus, you turned huge vats of water into wine for a wedding feast – and you gave your own blood as wine for us to drink: May we not limit how you choose to answer our needs. Amen.

"They have no wine."

Jesus and his mother have been invited to a wedding in Cana, a few miles from where they live – maybe like from Silsbee to Lumberton. His disciples are there, too. Everybody's talking, dancing, celebrating - doing whatever people do at wedding parties in Galilee in the first century. They're drinking, we know that – because at some point, the wine runs out. And this is not a good thing.

In five or ten, maybe fifteen minutes, however long it takes for a few people to ask for refills and notice that they're not getting any - the guests are going to realize the problem. And when that happens, word will start to circulate; people will start complaining, making snide remarks, and then they'll start to leave  early...
At some point, the groom will figure out what's happening, but by then, he's already toast. Later, or maybe right then, he'll yell at the steward for not ordering enough wine, and the steward will smack the servants for not making it last longer. But that won't change the fact that the groom has been totally humiliated in front of his new wife and all of her family and her family's friends and all of his family and their friends: in short, everybody they both know and some people they don't… On the day of his wedding! When his family is trying to IMPRESS everyone, not give them a reason to laugh at him.
Maybe his wife will forgive him… Maybe. But do you think his in-laws will let him forget? Ever?


But all of that is five or ten, maybe fifteen minutes in the future...
Right now, at this moment, only the servants know – and Mary.
How does Mary know? Maybe she's one of those people who pays attention to things other people don't notice, like an expression of concern on a servant's face when he pours her what seems to be the last of the wine in his jug. Who knows, but anyway, she notices the problem before the rest of the guests know. And what does she do? She goes over to her son and taps him on the shoulder, "They have no wine."

The implication seems to be "so do something."
But how does Jesus respond?
"Woman, what is that to you and me?"


It's true, Jesus is God's son, but there may be a lot he hasn't learned yet about being human – at least not from personal experience. The word is, he emptied himself completely to become completely one of us, which may have meant he had to learn how to see out of our eyes. Becoming like us in every way except sin may have meant he had to learn, like anyone else, how to read people and interpret situations. So, at 30 years old, sitting at a wedding a few miles from his home, maybe Jesus wasn't looking far enough into that statement "They have no wine" to see what it could mean in terms of someone else's humiliation – and maybe his experience at that point in his life hadn't led him to fully understand yet what kind of suffering humiliation might be, such that it would be worth stopping, even if it wasn't directly his concern.


He will certainly learn... Give him a few years, and he'll learn all about human nature's capacity to brutalize and humiliate and tear each other to pieces. And he'll also learn how people can wash their hands of another's suffering when it seems not to be their concern.


But now, eating with his friends at a party, before his ministry has become public, before he's become anybody's hero – or anybody's villian, it may be that his mother knows a bit more than he does about the experience of human suffering and humiliation. It's one more thing – maybe one last thing, she teaches him.
Who more than Mary would know about humiliation – and the powerless anger that comes with it - to be talked about all over the place, to have the conversation stop when you walk up, to know people are saying and assuming all kinds of things about you that you have no chance to refute. Certainly it was a blessing that the angel explained the plan to Joseph, but I doubt the rest of the town was informed.


Humiliation is so awful, a lot of people would prefer death. "I wish I could just curl up and die!" Really, if you think about it, you only have to die once, and it's over with. But humiliation can go on and on... Nine months must have been an eternity for Mary. What she went through must have made her sensitive to others' humiliation – and perhaps here at the wedding, she taught her son to see it too.


"Woman, what is that to you and to me?" It was nothing to him; why should it be anything to her? But for some reason it was something to her. She didn't say another word to him, just turned to the servants; "Do whatever he tells you." And why should anyone have listened to her? – except sometimes, you can just feel that something serious is at stake, something you don't understand but you know you'd better respect. So he says, "Fill the jars with water" - and they fill them.


Maybe Jesus didn't completely know where his mom was coming from, but he loved her and respected her well enough to listen and do something, if only because it was a concern to her. And maybe this was about more than just wine.


Nowhere in the text does it say this, but I imagine Mary taking Jesus aside later and saying, "Son, there's a lot you don't know about what we went through with you..."


I don't know if that's a conversation that ever took place, but somehow he learned to recognize and show compassion for people who were being humiliated. Think about how he treated the Samaritan woman he met at the well, or the woman caught in adultery who officials pushed in front of him in the temple. Remember how he responded to Nicodemus, who crept in at night to see Jesus for fear of what his colleagues might say. To all of these people, Jesus explained that God's not out to punish and shame us; we've all been hurt and made mistakes, and God loves us and wants to make us well. That's the point. This is a hospital for sick people, not Survivor Island. "Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him." (John 3:17)


Making wine out of water - that's impressive, and no doubt the groom WAS impressed. But I imagine what he appreciated more was being saved from humiliation and being given the chance to start his marriage on a high note. This first of Jesus' miraculous signs not only shows God's abundant, extravagant provision for our needs, even seemingly insignificant ones – it also shows God's compassion, pointing to the nature of God's love – which is often characterized as 'loving-kindness."


This miraculous sign happened at a wedding, and I think there's something to notice about that, too. More important that wine, in long-term relationships, is kindness. Loving feelings fade out at times; what makes relationships last and grow stronger are loving actions – and love often takes the form of kindness. It's difficult to be kind when you're irritated, but at those times it's more important than ever. Kindness is one of the fruits of the spirit, like love. But love can be hard to grasp at times. Kindness is more concrete. Like outreach. It's not directly love, but it's certainly moving in that direction.


After his resurrection, when Jesus and his disciples were having breakfast on the beach, Jesus asked Peter, "Do you love me?" And Peter said "Yes."
Jesus told him, "Feed my sheep."
Then Jesus asked him again, and a third time, "Do you love me?"
"Lord, you know I love you."
"Feed my sheep."


Peter had gotten past the first major obstacle, learning not to just love himself, but to love God, and Jesus was trying to move him from there to also love his neighbor, and he was teaching Peter in the same way his mother had taught him.
"Peter, maybe you don't love them – you don't have concern for them, but you love me – and I have concern for them. So for my sake, look after them, feed them." 


In other words, folks, be kind to each other here.
In other words, when you see someone else's need or suffering, don't ask, "What concern is that to you and me?" Instead, remember your love for Jesus, and "Whatever he tells you, do."


Amen
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Given to St. John's, Silsbee - Jan 17, 2010

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