A Community of Abundant Welcome to All, Growing Together in Christ and serving with Love

   Sermon:  “Filling up the Emptiness”

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.”  Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him. 

 Sermon:  “Filling up the Emptiness”

The first part of our scripture passage today reads like a short story by Hemingway—the details are very sparse.  On the 3rd day there is a wedding in Cana of Galilee.  Jesus is there.  The mother of Jesus is there.  So are the disciples.  But the gospel writer is not telling me anything I want to know about this wedding!  Who are the bride and groom?  How are they connected to Jesus and his mother?  Are they followers of Jesus—or were they simply friends from the neighborhood?

But, these details are not important to the gospel writer.  What is important?  Apparently the answer is to be found in verse 6, because this is where the writer finally offers up an abundance of details:

 “Now standing there are six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding 20 to 30 gallons.” 

I paid enough attention in high school English class to know that when a writer spends a lot of time and energy describing something, there is usually some symbolism that we are supposed to pay attention to. 

So, I invite you to reflect on the jars with me this morning. 

First of all, they’re empty.  They were supposed to hold water for religious rituals, rituals of purification, of hand-washing that would normally have been performed at meals and feasts, but they’re holding nothing.

The emptiness of the jars suggests a lot to me.

Maybe the religious rituals themselves were empty.  Maybe the rituals no longer held meaning for the people, so the jars sat unused, pushed aside, irrelevant to the lives of the couple getting married—and their guests. 

Or maybe the empty jars point to the emptiness of the people.  We all know that emptiness is part of the human experience.  There are times when all of us feel empty—when loss leaves a void in our lives, when work is unfulfilling, when we lose faith in someone we used to respect-- a partner, a colleague, a leader of our country.  At those times we may well feel like a cold, stone jar—that’s supposed to be brimming with water and life, but instead has nothing inside. 

But then something happens.  Our scripture passage today is an Epiphany story.  In church, we are in the season of Epiphany, the time of the year that we celebrate those “ah-ha” moments when the light gets turned on.  In our story, the light of God’s glory shines through Jesus into those jars.  At Jesus’ request, the servants fill the jars with water, and when they draw some out, it becomes wine. 

And not just cheap wine, like the kind that comes in a box, but good wine.  In fact, such good wine, that the wine steward can’t even believe it!  And not just a few drops of it either.  The gospel writer was eager to tell us that each jar holds 20 to 30 gallons, so if we do the math, we’re talking 120 to 180 gallons of good wine.  Clearly an abundance. 

Some of the first readers of the gospel would, no doubt, have recognized the symbol of abundant wine in this story, for it was a common motif in Greek folklore.  In Greek folklore, a miraculous supply of wine was often a sign of the presence of a god.   Further, and perhaps more relevant to our story, many of the first readers of this gospel would also know that in the writings of the Hebrew Bible, an abundance of good wine was a sign of the joyous arrival of God’s new age. 

So, what is this story trying to get across?  That the time of empty religious rituals is over.  That our time of personal emptiness will have an end.   God is present in our daily lives and can take our emptiness and fill it with joy and hope.  Not that our circumstances will always—or even often—miraculously improve overnight, but as we ask God to fill us, God will do just that—and bring us the joy and hope that we may not have dared to believe was possible. 

Let me give you an example.  Years ago I had a friend who told me about a very empty time in her life.  She was between jobs, her marriage was falling apart, and she told me that at the time she felt so depressed that she didn’t even have the energy to make herself a tuna-fish sandwich.  But slowly, she got her life back on track.  She put her faith in God, she found a good therapist, she found a job she liked, and she was able to stay strong even when her marriage ended.  It took lots of prayer and a concerted effort to keep moving ahead one step at a time (sometimes it was 2 steps forward, one back), but as she moved forward step by step, God filled up her empty jar with good, new wine, more than she ever thought possible. 

I believe that God’s Spirit still works to fill up empty jars-- not only on a personal level, but also on a political one.   These days with the pandemic dragging on and daily news of more political rancor within and between countries, exhaustion and anxiety is constantly nipping at everyone’s heels.  And, if we’re not vigilant, we can find ourselves empty, as individuals and a country-- our emotional and physical reserves spent before we even realize they’re gone.  And what’s worse, when we’re feeling exhausted and empty, it is so much easier to re-fill our reserves with bitterness and hate rather than with God’s good wine. 

But we are not called to do what is easy.  We, as Christians, are called to follow Jesus.  We are called to look to God both in times of joy and in times of crisis.  We are called to ground ourselves in God’s Love, as our Scripture from last week reminded us, and then we are called to step out in faith, asking God to fill us with good wine--not for our own sake alone, but so that we can be used by God to bless our world. 

On this Martin Luther King weekend, we remember his strong witness to God’s Love in a world that was often hostile to his message.  But what always strikes me most about Rev. Dr. King’s life and witness is that he effected change not through hate but through love.  Rev. King had every reason to hate the people who railed against him, the people who threatened him and his family and demeaned him for the color of his skin and the audacity of his message, but he did not give in to hate.  He grounded himself in God’s Love, and he continued to find the courage to speak out against injustice--preaching equality and calling out unjust behavior,  in ways that did not demean the humanity of his enemies. 

Let me quote a portion of Rev. Dr. King’s famous “I Have a Dream” speech, which was the keynote address given in front of the Lincoln Memorial during the 1963 March on Washington for Civil Rights.  Commenting on the way the vast majority of his hearers-- regardless of their race--reacted to the call for justice in this speech, Rev. Dr. King’s wife Coretta King once said, “At that moment, it seemed as if the Kingdom of God appeared.  But it lasted only for a moment.” 

Rev. Dr. King writes:

Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.  We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline.  We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence.  Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force…We cannot turn back.  There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?”  We can ever be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality…We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one…  We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote.  No, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream. 

Powerful words, aren’t they?!  And it’s clear that nearly 60 years later we still have work to do.  My friends, in our world today, we are called to do that work.  We are called to follow the example of Dr. King.   We are called to invite God’s Love to fill and re-fill us daily--through prayer and meditation--as Jesus filled the empty jars at the wedding with good wine.  And then, from that centered position, we are called to live out that love by seeking justice for all people--in both personal and political arenas, as Dr. King did, as Jesus did, speaking out for those whom society demeans.  May God use us to love our neighbors, ourselves and our enemies, and may God strengthen us to preach equality and to call out unjust behavior wherever we see it-- in our enemies, our neighbors, and even in ourselves.  Let us pray: 

Infinite God of all peoples and all places, you created the earth, with its mountains and valleys, oceans and plains, and you have filled it with extravagant abundance.  Yet humanity has parceled out your good earth in unequal shares and built great armaments to protect our separate parcels.  Forgive us, O God, and teach us how to share.  Make us more generous on a personal level, and give us the courage and strength to incorporate generosity into our human systems on a political level.  Rid us of injustice and discrimination, that all may share in your bounty.  Breathe your Spirit of unity into all peoples, that the world may live in harmony, and war shall be no more; through Jesus, the power of peace, we pray. 

Hear now our specific prayers.  First, for our country and our world.

As the spike in Covid cases continues to increase, we pray for health care professionals.  We pray for those who are sick themselves, and pray that they recover quickly.  We pray for those who are overworked and stressed--that you will help them to find times to rest physically and emotionally--and that they stay alert and able to work when they are on duty. 

We pray for people who are still fearful of the vaccine or feel it is unnecessary.  Help them to trust their own doctors’ advice and get vaccinated for their own sake and their families--and to prevent hospital overcrowding which is causing pain and deepening illness for more and more people.

- Afghan refugee family re-settling in Franklin area this week.

[An earlier version of this sermon was written and preached by Marlayna on Jan 14, 2007.  ]