Sermon on The Second Sunday of Epiphany Sermon - Fr Sam Rossiter-Peters

[MUSIC PLAYING] Maybe given to me to speak in the name of the father and of the son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen, please do be seated. Have you ever loudly walked into a room only to realise that everyone there was silent and had to back away in embarrassment. Or maybe you said something awkward at a gathering that left you scrambling for an apology. Or perhaps you were with someone that you admire only to let a bad, maybe even a gross habit slip out and you both had to pretend it didn't happen. Though you really know what it did. a gross habit slip out and you both had to pretend it didn't happen. Though you really know what it did. Most of the time these sorts of embarrassment can be smoothed over with a quick subject change or an awkward laugh. But sometimes the situation just feels irreparable. The mistake was just too glaring. The offense was too severe. There's no way to recover. In such moments all we can do is retreat and hope that everyone forgets. Our Gospel reading is about social embarrassment, but the sort which is impossible to fix. So John tells us of a wedding feast, a witch the groom's family had run out of wine, an embarrassment which the couple might have had to live with for the rest of their lives. The reason for this and it sounds like an overstatement is that marriage in first century Israel was a very different sort of affair to marriage in our society. It was a lengthy and structured process, a predominantly legal process. First, the Grumes father would select a suitable bride for his son, usually but not always in consultation with the son. He would negotiate with the bride's father and pay the Mohar the bride price, because his family was gaining the bride. The groom would give a madam a precious gift to the bride, and then the families would formalise their arrangement by signing the katuba, the marriage contract. At this point, the couple would be considered betrothed. That wasn't an engagement like we think of it. It was a binding legal relationship. It was the most important part of their arrangement. The couple were considered as one in all except consummation, an informal divorce would be required to separate them. But the bride would continue to live in her father's house whilst the groom prepared their future home, usually attached to his father's house. The groom's father determined when these preparations were complete and the room would finally be allowed to collect his bride. This traditionally took a year sometimes longer and during that time the bride wouldn't know exactly when her groom was coming for her. So when he did, the groom often attended the bride in a elaborate procession, and a trumpet would be sounded to start the procession so that the bride might have at least a little warning that he was on his way. After the bride was collected, the couple would be joined together in a smaller ceremony before a major family, singing or saying verses from Song of Solomon to each other, and then at last the wedding feast would begin. singing or saying verses from song of Solomon to each other. And then at last the wedding feast would begin. A grand multi-day celebration for the entire village, the whole community. The Grumes family bore responsibility for this feast, and it was their duty to demonstrate during the feast not just their ability to provide for the bride who was joining their family but to honor their guests. Again we don't really understand hospitality as it was understood in the ancient world. Hospitality was a sacred duty. In the Jewish context, it wasn't just a social obligation, it was a reflection of one's faithfulness to God. Failure in hospitality was a grave crime. And failure of hospitality and a wedding feast would be considered a public disgrace. To run out of wine would be more than just an embarrassing oversight. It would be an unforgotten stain on the family's honor. And this whole background helps us to understand why the crisis at the wedding in Cana was in fact a crisis. The groom's family had prepared for a year or more. They were the ones who'd set everything in motion and yet at the crucial moment when they were at their most public. They were failing. No one would forget that embarrassment. The bride and groom would begin their life together in shame. The groom's family would forever carry the reputation as the ones that weren't able to provide. And that would have implications on the groom's father and his business. The groom and his business, the place of the bride in her society, they would be the inhospitable ones. But of course, Mary intervened. Bishop Fulton Sheen has speculated that the groom may have actually been one of Mary's relatives which would explain why Mary had knowledge of these sort of backstage preparations. The wine running lair was the servants desperately prepared it in the back rooms. It would also explain why she felt the need to help, to intercede, for the family to Jesus. Jesus' response, woman, what concern is that to you and to me, my hour has not yet come. Strikes pretty hard in its English translation. But Jesus was in fact using a term of endearment, speaking to his mum in Aramaic, but translated for us in Greek. He used the same term when he spoke to Mary from the cross, when he gave her to John the beloved disciple. A moment where Jesus would have only used the gentlest term. Woman, here is your son. But the rest of Jesus is comments on an oddity of translation. What concern is that to you and to me does seem pretty dismissive. Did Jesus just not care about the couple's imminent ruin? Well, clearly, St. John lost something in the writing down of this account. Perhaps it was just the body language of a loving mother and son, or shared looks which didn't need words. Because despite what Jesus said, and son or shared looks which didn't need words. Because despite what Jesus said, Mary was convinced that he was going to act. And so immediately she turned to the servants and told them to prepare. Do whatever he tells you. This was for Jesus's first public miracle. So Mary wasn't asking a small favor. She was asking Jesus to begin his miraculous ministry, a ministry which he knew would lead to his death, to a sword piercing Mary's heart as she stood weeping, watching her son die on a cross. After Jesus did this, there would be no turning back. So perhaps we can read between the lines of their interaction. We can almost imagine Jesus saying, "Do you really realize what you're asking and hear Mary's response? It's time, sir." And then the world turned upside down. Jesus had the purity jokes used to wash the guests' feet, filled with around 100 litres of water and transformed that into the finest wine. And in doing so, he declared the new creation. Jesus took ordinary, insufficient stuff of our world and remade it very good. As once he had taken dust and created humanity, making it in his image, completing his creation. But Jesus didn't just transform water into wine. We often mistake this miracle as one simply a provision. No, Jesus took poverty and turned it to riches. He took sorrow and turned it to joy. He took shame and made it glory. He took a broken situation and he didn't just heal it. He made it better than it might have been otherwise. And we hear that in the words of the steward. Now again, this isn't a post that we have in weddings in our society. The marriage student, the marriage steward, was called the architriculos. They were the person who oversaw the wedding. Wedding's were expensive. Everyone found a way to put costs. So usually, Asinjan explained, they would serve the good wine first, and then when everyone was drunk, they'd move on to the cheap stuff. The groom's family had probably planned the same before they ran out. But even if they'd done that, their wedding wouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary. There'd have been no usual, unusual honour in it. Instead, in their moment of despair, Jesus stepped in, and the wine that he produced was so good that the arkatriculos, the honoured member of the community who was appointed just to make sure that the groom's family paid their obligations as they were supposed to. He stopped the party and he announced the family had acted with uncharacteristic generosity. They put out that perfectly fine wine but now when everyone expected the bad stuff to come out, the family had honoured their guests with the finest vintage. And so, instead of starting their married life in shame, the couple started out with praise. They were the ones who honoured their guests beyond expectation. They were the ones who didn't just provide, they provided abundantly. Jesus, of course, knew what had happened, his disciples knew what had happened. Jesus's miraculous ministry had begun, but he didn't take credit. And so his gift to this couple wasn't a couple of extra bottles of wine to get through the night. It was to honour the couple in the site of their community, a gift that would last them the rest of their lives together. All of us are felt social embarrassment and it's uncomfortable, but it is usually fleeting. But the wedding in caner doesn't describe that sort of experience. Instead, it serves as an allegory to a worse shame, that of sin. We've all known sin, the guilt of acting without love, knowing that we fall in short, not of what others expect of us, but what God expects of us. And like running out of wine in cana, since consequences are more than just a momentary embarrassment. When we break God's expectations by acting without love, we distance ourselves from him. That's not because he stops loving us. In fact, it's the opposite. Acting without love is the choice to walk away from God, to put ourselves before Him. And God loves us enough that he honors our choice. But the consequences of that choice don't fade, because as creatures with a soul, we don't fade. We are constantly creating our reality. And like foundation bricks, once we leave God, we establish a reality which only grows over time. That first act of love makes it easier to act without love once again. Our action makes the world a lesser place where unloving choices are more easily made. But as he was for the Greens family, so Jesus stands ready to help us. When we realise our need, our insufficiency, all we need to do is listen to Mary. Do whatever he tells you and will hear his call, follow me. The wedding in Cana is the promise of the new creation, which is given to all who ask. Jesus takes our shame and he makes it glory. Our emptiness is overcome by his abundance. When the Son of God became Jesus in Mary's womb, he established our salvation. He took our human nature, broken by sin, distanced from the Trinity and raised it to the Divine Life. Through Jesus' life, he sanctified humanity, saving us with each new action. In Him, we've lived in perfect obedience to the Father. We've rejected the temptations of the wilderness. We've seen sickness and evil turned back. Death declared life. We've declared the kingdom of God. In him we've died to sin. We've risen to new life. We've ascended to heaven. In him we sit by God the Father Almighty, welcomed into the embrace of the Trinity. Though Jesus' work, his saving work culminated in the Paschal mystery, his death and resurrection, Jesus didn't begin to save us on the cross. His saving work encompassed every moment of his life, including Kana. He didn't just undo the consequences of sin, that's the point of Kana. He didn't just undo the consequences of sin, that's the point of Kana. He made it so that we are more honored than if we'd never sinned in the first place. He gifts us with honour that without him we'd never have had. And so all that remains for us is to ask, where is our wine running low? Where are the areas of our lives where we've stopped trusting that God can make a difference? It feels impossible when we stare into those empty vessels, our lack of resources. When we know that we just don't have the strength to be the people that he calls us to be. But caner is a promise. It isn't our job to provide the wine. We just provide what we have. Insubstantial as it is. And then he takes it and he turns it to abundance. Amen.