[Read John 2:1-11]
Every time we read a story from the bible—especially a story about Jesus—we have to fight the temptation to read our own personality and experience into that story. There’s something inside us that naturally assumes that everyone sees the world the same way we do—or SHOULD see the world the way we do. I think that multiplies when we read stories about Jesus. We want to relate to Jesus. We want to understand him. So, naturally, we try to make Jesus understandable to us by making him like us. Yet, when we assume that Jesus is acting like us—or acting in accordance with our own experience—we can easily miss the main point of a passage OR completely misunderstand the story itself.
That’s why we have to work really hard to read stories and passages of scripture carefully and not assume anything. Rather than assuming we know what is going on, we need to ask a lot of questions like: Why did he say that? Why was it written that way? THEN—and this is the important part—we need to look for those answers in the text of scripture. We cannot assume that we know the answers. We must search for them in the passage we’re reading OR by seeing themes throughout the book of the Bible. That’s how we come to better conclusions about what is happening.
I start that way because I think many have made that mistake when coming to this story. The Wedding of Cana is one of the most well-known stories of Jesus’ life. It’s well-known because it’s his first miracle—it kicks off his public ministry. It’s well-known because it’s a story about a wedding reception and a lot of wine. I also think it’s well-known because it’s a great story. There’s tension and intrigue, there’s curiosity and questioning, and it all builds to this one climactic moment when the master of the feast is about to drink the water from the purification jars—leaving everyone wondering what’s going to happen. Yet, because it’s so well-known, I think many people have made many assumptions about this story that haven’t been helpful—including myself.
The first few verses lay out the scene of the story. We read, “On the third day there was a wedding at Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus also was invited to the wedding with his disciples.” (John 2:1–2, ESV). When we read this introductory statement, things begin to make some more sense. In my last sermon, we had read, “The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee.” (John 1:43, ESV). Now we know why Jesus and the disciples decided to go to Galilee. They had been invited to the wedding.
It also makes sense that they would all be invited to this wedding, because they all knew each other and were buddies. Toward the end of this Gospel we read: “Nathanael of Cana in Galilee” (John 21:2, ESV). So, right before this story, we read about Nathanael coming to Jesus and believing in Jesus, and guess what? He’s from Cana—and he’s buddies with Philip, who grew up with Andrew and Peter. See how it’s all connected. So, most likely this wedding was for someone they all knew. That’s why Jesus’ mother was also there—and it’s also the reason why some commentators believe that Mary could have possibly been in charge of some of the festivities—making sure everything went smoothly for the family friend.
But things don’t go smoothly do they? The first words we hear from Mary’s mouth are, “When the wine ran out, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.”” (John 2:3, ESV). I’m sure we all know that this was a bad thing. It wasn’t a bad thing because people weren’t able to get plastered. It was a bad thing because it was a failure of hospitality—and that was a shameful thing in that culture. I’ve even read some commentators that have said someone could sue the wedding party for running out of wine at the wedding reception. That’s how serious of an offense it was.
The rest of this interaction is very curious and has caused me to ask a lot of questions. It’s this part of the interaction that I think many people have assumed they knew what’s going on based on their own personalities and their own experience, and because of these assumptions, I’ve also heard many incorrect interpretations of this conversation.
When Mary comes to Jesus with the problem, “They have no wine,” we read, “And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come.”” (John 2:4, ESV). Obviously, Mary was asking Jesus to do something about the problem, but Jesus responds with some level of rebuke. We shouldn’t understand him addressing her as “woman” to be disrespectful—like a man saying, “Woman make me a sandwich”—but we need to recognize that it’s not warm and gentle either. He didn’t address her as “mother.” That is followed by a reply of “What does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come,” which is clearly a gentle rebuke.
Yet, the confusing part of this interaction is Mary’s response to Jesus’ rebuke. We read, “His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”” (John 2:5, ESV). That’s confusing, isn’t it? She comes to Jesus with a problem. Jesus tells her it’s not his time yet. She assumes he is going to do something about it. Where did she get that from? Why did she assume Jesus would do something?
This is where I’ve heard so many poor interpretations of this passage. I’ve heard so many people talk about the “persuasive power of a mother,” and make this entire interaction about how Mary convinced Jesus to make his ministry public at this point in time. I’ve also heard people talk about Jesus’ love and gentleness toward his mother, and how he bumped up the timeline on his public ministry to care for his mother and his friends at the wedding. I’ve heard a whole host of other interpretations of this interaction.
Yet, I don’t think any of them actually make any sense. Where else do we read in scripture of Jesus choosing to follow the will and desire of people over the will and desire of his Father? Nowhere. Actually, one of the main themes of Jesus’ life is his unflinching commitment to go where the Father tells him to go, do what the Father tells him to do, and say what the Father tells him to say—and NOBODY is going to change that, not even his mother.
And, to be honest, I think that’s part of the reason Jesus rebukes Mary. She’s trying to bump up the timeline—she’s trying to influence the things he does—and he’s reminding her that he will follow his Father in heaven and His timeline, not the timeline of his mother, NOR the timeline of any human being. That’s why we read this repeated phrase throughout the book of John: “My hour has not yet come.” (John 2:4, ESV) or “…the hour is coming…” (John 4:21, ESV). We read this phrase over and over again until we hit chapter 12, when it changes a little bit.
When we get to chapter 12, we read Jesus say this: “And Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” (John 12:23, ESV). For eleven chapters, we’ve been hearing “the hour is coming” or “the hour has not yet come” and finally hear Jesus say, “The hour has come for me to be glorified”. What’s happening in chapter 12? Let me go down a few verses in chapter 12 to hear Jesus praying: “Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? But for this purpose I have come to this hour.” (John 12:27, ESV). The hour is referring to Jesus’ death on the cross and his resurrection. That’s where Jesus will be glorified. That’s the hour for which Jesus came. That’s the hour he’s been waiting for throughout his entire life.
So, that’s clearly how we have to understand Jesus using the word “hour” in this passage as well. When Jesus tells Mary that his hour has not yet come, he’s NOT referring to the beginning of his ministry—as so many people have thought over the years, including myself—he’s referring to the hour of his death and resurrection. That hour has not yet come.
But, that doesn’t make sense, does it? Why would Jesus tell Mary that it wasn’t his time to die, when she was telling him that they’ve run out of wine? That doesn’t make sense.
Here’s what I think Jesus is doing. He’s doing something he does throughout the Gospels. He’s being told about a physical problem and interprets it in a deeper way. We’ll read him being asked about water, and he tells them “I am the living water.” We’ll read him being asked for bread, and he tells them, “I am the bread from heaven.” Here we read him being asked about wine, and we can understand him saying, “I am the wine,” just like we’ll hear him tell his disciples—and us—that every time we drink wine at communion, we will be reminded of his poured out blood on the cross. Jesus is the wine.
And to add to that understanding, throughout the Old Testament there’s this picture of the coming kingdom of God having an abundance of wine. Isaiah (25:6) speaks of a day when the Lord will prepare a feast of rich food and well-aged wine--good wine. Amos (9:13) speaks of a coming day when the mountains will drip with sweet wine and the hills will flow with wine. When Jacob blesses his twelve sons he tells Judah that he will wash his garments in wine (Gen 49:11).
So, to tie all of this together, when Mary tells Jesus there is no wine, he responds to he by saying, “That time has not yet come—the time when I will usher in the fullness of the kingdom, the time that will be categorized by abundance of wine, the time when my blood will be poured out, the time when I will be ultimately glorified. That time has not yet come.”
And to that, Mary responds by saying, “Do whatever he tells you.” (John 2:5, ESV). I don’t think Mary responds this way because she knows she’s convinced Jesus to do something he didn’t plan on doing. She responds this way out of faith. It’s basically her acknowledgment that she trusts Jesus to do what is right. It may not be the ultimate time for Jesus to usher in the kingdom, it may not be the time she thought it was, but she will trust Jesus to do what is right. So, she tells the servants to do whatever Jesus tells them to do.
And, even though the ultimate hour of Jesus has not yet come, we will get glimpses of this hour and glimpses of this glory throughout Jesus’ life and ministry—and through every miracle. So, Jesus tells the servants to fill the six stone water jars of purification. That’s 150 to 180 gallons of water. That’s a lot. And once the jars are filled, he tells them to draw some out and take it to the master of the feast.
I want you to notice something about this entire story. When Jesus does this miracle, he doesn’t do anything “magical” with the jars. He doesn’t say a prayer over the jars. He doesn’t wave his hand over the jars. He doesn’t say an incantation. He doesn’t do anything out of the ordinary. He just has them fill the jars and scoop some out and bring it to the master of the feast.
You can imagine what was going through the servants minds as they bring this cup to the master of the feast. They knew where they got this cup. It was water, right? Now they were bringing water to the master of the feast? They had to be trembling, worried about how the master would respond. The only people that knew what was going on were Mary, Jesus, his disciples, and the servants. Nobody else.
The tension builds as the master of the feast brings the cup to his lips to taste what’s in the cup. He tastes it and immediately calls the groom over. The servants probably get even more worried, thinking that the master is about to chew out the groom for serving water to his guests. Instead, we read, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and when people have drunk freely, then the poor wine. But you have kept the good wine until now.” (John 2:10, ESV). Can you imagine the relief that flowed through the servants in that moment? I bet it wasn’t only relief, but it was also joy and excitement.
But don’t forget what we’ve already learned in this passage. This story isn’t just about a miracle of Jesus. It’s obviously that, but every one of Jesus’ miracles—especially in the book of John—are there to teach us something about who Jesus is. In this miracle, we’re told that Jesus is the wine. He is the abundant wine. He is the good wine that has come after the poor wine. It’s a reminder that he is ushering in a new covenant that is better wine than the old covenant. It’s a reminder that he is bringing a kingdom that will flow with an abundance of good wine—the best wine. It’s also pointing us forward to that moment when Jesus’ blood will be shed to usher in this kingdom and to bring about this new covenant—it’s pointing us forward to this moment of glory.
Then we read, “This, the first of his signs, Jesus did at Cana in Galilee, and manifested his glory.” (John 2:11, ESV). This is one of the things I love about Jesus’ ministry. The first miracle Jesus did—the first manifestation of his glory, the first glimpse of his glory—happened in Cana in Galilee. Galilee was considered a podunk little area. Cana was considered a podunk little town in a podunk little area. It’s like saying Jesus did his first miracle in Oneida County, Wisconsin, in Rhinelander. Jesus has a habit of revealing his glory in obscure, seemingly inconsequential places. He didn’t do his first miracle in Jerusalem, but in Cana.
Then, on top of this, barely anybody knew there was a miracle. Nobody in the crowd knew there was a miracle. They just kept on drinking and dancing like nothing changed. The master of the feast didn’t know anything happened, except there was some really good wine coming. The only people that knew a miracle happened were Mary, Jesus, the servants, and the disciples. All obscure, seemingly inconsequential people. He didn’t go out of his way to manifest his glory to the masses—to the crowds—he did it with a few people and almost always to those who were unimportant.
Yet, there’s something else that jumps out at the end of this passage. We read, “This, the first of his signs, Jesus did at Cana in Galilee, and manifested his glory. And his disciples believed in him.” (John 2:11, ESV). This makes sense to us. That the disciples would see this miracle—see this sign that points to some greater glory—and believe. But notice what it doesn’t say. Who else knew about this miracle? The servants knew about this miracle. They not only saw the miracle but they experienced it first hand. They filled the water jars. They brought the water-turned-wine to the master of the feast. They waited to see what would happen. They heard first hand what the master of the feast said. Yet, we don’t read that they believed. Only the disciples saw this miracle and believed. DA Carson notices this and says, “The servants saw the sign, but not the glory; the disciples by faith perceived Jesus’ glory behind the sign, and they put their faith in him.” (Carson, 175). It takes faith to see beyond the sign—beyond the miracle—to see the glory of Jesus Christ.
This is a reminder to all of us that it’s only by faith that we can fully grasp who Jesus is and see his glory. As we continue through this gospel, many people will see Jesus’ signs and miracles, but very few of them will actually see the glory in those signs and miracles. The only ones who see that glory are those that look to Jesus in faith. Faith allows them to see beyond the miracle—see through the miracle—to the glory that is beyond it—the glory of Jesus’ death and resurrection, ushering in the new covenant and the kingdom of God.
This is also a reminder to all of us that the glory of Jesus Christ lies in his death and resurrection—not in the miracles. Those miracles only pointed to the death and resurrection. It’s when Jesus comes to the cross that he finally says, “Now my hour has come to be glorified.” This is his true glory.
And this reminds us that our glory comes when we follow Jesus by taking up our own cross and following him. We often want to look for glory in miraculous healings and supernatural events, but here we’re reminded that those events are only glimpses of Jesus’ glory. His true glory is found in the cross and resurrection. That’s where our glory is also found, as we lay down our lives and follow him, as we endure trials and suffering by putting our faith and trust in Jesus Christ, as we take every step and every breath by faith in the one who laid down his life for us, as we listen to Mary’s command to “Do whatever he tells us to do.” That’s where we get to see and experience Jesus’ glory in its fullness. So, let’s keep our eyes on Jesus—on his death and resurrection—lay down our lives as we follow him by faith, and keep looking for his glory in us and the fullness of his glory to come into the world when his kingdom fully comes and the best wine will flow down from the mountains and hilltops in abundance.