Where Jesus Is, the Old becomes New

Of course, more important than the term is the concept behind the term: chef wants to have all of the ingredients, tools and appliances all at hand and organized in place before beginning the recipe.

That is the way to insure that the recipe can be completed according to plan.

This is much better than getting half way through and discovering that the bottle of some critical ingredient is empty.

So in the Gospel story today, we have two mise en place problems.

The first one is that the steward of the wedding feast has not properly checked all of his supplies in advance for the party.

He is not prepared.

He is causing embarrassment for the family, the couple, and himself.

I'm just making a guess here, but since Mary sticks her 2 cents into the situation, I'll guess that she must be a close relative of the family putting on the feast, and thus feels some level of responsibility for the problem.

And thus she asks Jesus to help.

His reply sounds rather abrupt to our ears: “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me?”

But Mary is undeterred and tells the servants to follow whatever instructions Jesus may give them.

What a level of expectation she has that he is going to solve the problem!

And this brings us to the second mise en place situation.

Jesus second sentence is: “My hour has not yet come.”

This is the first time we hear this in John's gospel, but there will be other similar reminders as the Gospel progresses, until finally “his hour” arrives at cross and resurrection.

This time at Cana in Galilee is the first of the signs, the first step in revealing the significance of who this Jesus truly is, the full significance of which is seen in the exaltation of Christ on the cross and further in his rising from the tomb.

The icon of the wedding at Cana shows Jesus seated at the side of the table.

He begins as just an ordinary guest at the festivities.

It is the bride and groom who are at the center of the icon.

But as the story moves along we realize that the whole focus shifts, until it is truly centered on Jesus, to the exclusion of the other characters.

If the scene were being done with a movie camera we can easily imagine how it would work:

the opening wide angle of the entire party,

the closeup of the bride and groom's entry,

the toasts, pulling back to show the happy crowd,

cutting away to the whispers in the corner about the wine supply,

wider to Mary and the servants,

cut away to the steward at the other side of the party.

The bride and groom are almost forgotten in these quick shots.

The camera leaves everyone else behind and moves in on Jesus.

And then Jesus calmly gives the word, and from his word spoken flows the success of the event.

The servants do as instructed,

the steward is mystified,

the guests celebrate,

and the bride and groom continue with their marriage feast...

But in addition to that, Jesus begins his inexorable walk to the cross, which is the most peculiar kind of glory.

That's the way John has organized the Gospel.

John relates very few of Jesus' miracles, compared with the other Gospels.

He only has seven such stories.

The wedding at Cana is the first of them.

It is so outrageous; it must be important.

In some of the others, the various healing stories, we can talk about Jesus having compassion and meeting human need.

But here in the wedding at Cana, we're talking not about a need but what some might label a needless extravagance.

Just so you know, Jesus would definitely be in conflict with our congregation's written alcohol policy.

For a wedding reception, we can have modest amounts of wine for toasts, etc., but 120 gallons is way out of bounds, and I'd leave it to Mr. Huff to so inform Jesus of the policy.

But it is the extravagance, the excessiveness of the miracle that is precisely the point.

One thimbleful of water become wine is still a miracle.

We wouldn't have to deal with gallons for it to be miraculous.

But this massive volume at Cana of Galilee, far more than would ever be necessary for the banquet, is a sign pointing to something far greater than that one little wedding banquet.

It is a sign pointing to the great and final banquet.

[Watch out! Here comes the big word] That is the escatological banquet,

the banquet of the eschton, the culmination of creation, the final summing-up of all that God intends.

At that banquet, there is not just “enough”, there is to be abundance, a super-abundance, in full measure, pressed down, running over, as scripture's poet says.

And these stone jars filled to the brim are the first hint of that celebration to come.

Let the celebrating begin even now in anticipation of that great day.

I did say..even now!

We're not talking about a mere historic remembrance of an event in Cana of Galilee 2,000 years ago.

We are today a part of an ongoing celebration.

Each Sunday is a little bit of Easter, we learn in catechism class.

Yes, that's right. Each Sunday is a reminder of the resurrection victory of Jesus, and at the same time an anticipation of our own resurrection yet to be completed.

One of the images that has stayed with me ever since I received a copy of Robert Louis Stevenson's book “Kidnapped” about age 10 or so is the line drawing of the misery uncle in that story.

He is hunched over his kitchen table, dressed like Scrooge, a candle guttering out beside him, wearing gloves without fingertips so he can count his piles of coins, and with malevolent glare addressing his only nephew.

It is as far removed from the actions and attitude of Jesus as the storyteller's art can make it.

Yet it poses the question to us this day.

Here we have the free gift of Jesus offered to us, in abundance.

What are we doing with it?

Are we in turn offering it to someone else, or are we trying somehow to hoard it for ourselves?

Remember that the disciples on the road to Emmaus said “Did not our hearts burn within us when he explained to us the scriptures?”

They had to immediately tell someone else about what they had come to know.

This change in how we operate will take thoughtful reflection, confession, and amendment of life.

We have lots to do.

But to get started, we come to the table of Holy Communion with a double sense in mind: both celebration and anticipation mixed together.

For that miracle of Cana did not end one day back there in Galilee.

Indeed, it pointed to the intention of God to call many to a a banquet, a great banquet, the great and final banquet, .

And he tells us, “Come, for all is now ready”, and it is in the fullest sense Mise en place., everything in its proper place ...for us. Amen.

Please note: The preceding sermon is provided as a resource for the thought, prayer, and meditation of the members and friends of St. Mark's. It is the residue of a verbal event, and thus it does not have academic footnotes and other details that would be expected in a written document. The writer gladly acknowledges the prior thought and work of many Christians before him.