Prayer:  May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of all our hearts be a delight to your heart, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

Lately we’ve been thinking a good deal about war and peace, about despair and hope. 

Tomorrow we celebrate Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday, and remember his dream, and how he was upheld by the power of his faith community, black and white, as he sought justice, equality and freedom, not only for his black brothers and sisters, but for everyone.

It is ironic that precisely the Christian faith taught to slaves by their masters held the seed of their hope and freedom.  It is also ironic that it was from a Hindu, Gandhi, that Martin Luther King learned the Jesus principle of non-violence, which turned out to be such a powerful force in the Civil Rights Movement.

Today’s Scripture readings are about hope.  Human beings are promised the hope of transformation even when it seems just as unlikely as water becoming wine.  Martin Luther King’s life and preaching were all about the hope of transformation, a hope we need to cling to and speak for now, in these days of difficulty, fear and conflict.

Jesus lived in a time of stress, fear, and conflict, too.  Yet in the Gospel of John, one of the very first stories about Jesus finds him as a guest at a wedding.  Now a wedding ought to be a great, celebrative party, but it also carries more weight of importance than most social occasions because we know that it is the brave start of a lifetime commitment for the two getting married.  Everyone enters or witnesses a wedding knowing that marriage will often be wonderful - but sometimes awful.

A wedding is a landmark in the lives of the couple, as well as of their friends and family.  Nothing will ever be exactly the same again, for better or for worse.  And so we laugh and rejoice together - and we cry.

We don’t invite just anybody to our wedding.  I wonder whether Jesus and his mother were special friends of the family, or if the bride or groom were relatives.  In any case, as with most wedding days, something goes wrong.  A little behind-the-scenes crisis develops.  The reception is such a success, that they’ve run out of wine.  And God bless those who, when a crisis comes, don’t just stand around. 

In this situation it’s Mary who takes the initiative.  She’s seen Jesus’ power in action.  She may not have been very clear on his idea of the works of power he did.  She simply sees a need before them and asks Jesus for help.  His answer is confusing.  It sounds to us as though he’s being rude to her.  But in fact, to call someone “Woman” at that time was respectful.

We don’t know what Mary understood about Jesus at this point, but in the words of John’s Gospel, he’s telling her that the appropriate time for him to reveal who he is has not yet come.

I wish we had a video of this scene because I’m pretty sure that body language would help us understand the meaning of this mother-son interchange.  My guess is that, with a slight roll of his eyes and maybe a wink, he’s saying, “Not time yet, Mom.”

She understands right away and decides to play along, not giving him away.  Turning to the servants, without a hitch, Mary tells them to do whatever Jesus says to do.  Far from being a conflict between them, this could be a tender little moment of trust and understanding.

When I was an English major in college, we had to analyze poems and stories, figuring out the symbols and meanings which were beyond the obvious.  Even though this sometimes is hard work, it pays off in that it stocks our minds with ideas, which enrich other stories and poems coming later.  That is true of all Bible stories and passages also.  They feed each other.

This wedding took place on the third day, shorthand for the resurrection to the early church, so maybe John is talking about new life.  And soon we come upon six stone jars used for water for the Jewish rites of purification.   Six is an incomplete number – (seven is a complete number) - and the stone jars represent the old law, which required purification rituals all the time.

The new order takes over from the old, as the water in those jars becomes wine, wine which in its positive side speaks of joy, celebration, love and new creation.  Jesus told the servants to fill the jars to the brim, an extravagance of water, like the extravagance of God’s love, shown in the Law given to the Chosen People, and in the abundant new life of the Kingdom, revealed by Jesus.

Typical of the Gospels, only some see the Realm of God coming.  Not everyone is aware, not everyone sees, not everyone has any idea where the new wine comes from.  In this story, only the servants and some of the disciples know - which is a typical New Testament reality.  The Realm of God is revealed to the poor, the low, and the fringe person, not to the powerful.

The water is more than water.  From ancient times, it was used to purify and make new.  Jesus uses the water of the law and the old covenant, out of it creating something new.  Ordinary water becomes special wine.  And an everyday wedding - if weddings ever are “everyday”! – becomes the setting for revelation.

John tells us that this was the first of many signs given by Jesus.  A sign in the Hebrew Bible is a term meaning wonderful works used by God to reveal Godself to the people.  Jesus comes, himself a sign from God, doing signs which show he is, as John put it later, “one with God.”

God continues giving us signs and epiphanies up to this very day.  (An epiphany is an event in which we suddenly are aware of the divine.)  Such events happen to us all the time, and if we’re paying attention, like the servants and a few disciples, we see them.  In recent years, many have reclaimed the metaphor of angels to describe such experiences.

Signs and epiphanies are gifts from God to us.  They encourage us, excite us, amaze us, delight us.  God is with us all the time.  But as our daily lives go on, fears and busyness, the needs of the moment consuming our minds and bodies, we need the interruptions of grace, small and large reminders that God is here in the struggle with us.  We need to know that we are never alone or abandoned.

There are times in our relationships and lives when the wine runs out.  When the zip is gone from marriage or family life.  When our work just seems too hard, with not enough rewards to it.

There are times when the wine runs out in our faith life, and our prayers become dry or non-existent; when it all feels like lifeless form, empty words.  Then, especially, we need to cherish this wonderful little wedding story in our hearts, to remind us that there is somebody who can be the life-giver at our deadest party.  Jesus didn’t scold the caterer for under-ordering wine.  He didn’t blame anybody.  He saw a need and quietly filled it.  He took seriously what the party needed, just as the Christ sees our needs and takes them seriously.

I wish I were more regular about keeping a journal, because one of the best things about doing so is that it helps us notice and remember the moments when God comes to us.  God’s signs and miracles of love get woven so fast into everyday life that it’s easy to forget them, as our lives move onward, flowing as fast as cresting rivers in a flood.

Some of us were conscientious about recording moments of new growth and delight in baby books, as our babies developed, for the same reason.  Life goes on so quickly, and we forget details of some of the most treasured parts.  Special times do come - insights and encouragement, grace and love flash into our lives, often precisely when things are darkest.  And when we speak of these signs - as we often do in the Church - we help each other become sensitive to seeing them.  Among the great values of the Church is that it is a community where we teach one another to lift up our differences as a gift and a glory.

The Apostle Paul wrote, “Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of working, but it is the same God who inspires them all in every one.  To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.”

Your particular gift is for the good of all, for the common good.  It is different from my gift, but I appreciate and gain from it.  That is true between individuals, and it is true of races and groups of all kinds.  Many human tears are shed in every generation because one’s gifts are not received, affirmed, lifted up, and enjoyed.  An appalling number of persons feel low self-esteem because no one has seen them as gifted and remarkable.

Black singer Ysage Barnwell sings a song called “No Mirrors.”

“There are no mirrors in my nana’s house,

  No mirrors in my nana’s house

  And the beauty that I saw in everything was in her eyes

  So I never knew my skin was too black

  I never knew my nose was too flat

  I never knew my clothes didn’t fit

  And I never knew there were things that I missed -

  ’cause the beauty of everything was in her eyes.”

That is not a black song.  It is a human song.  And Barnwell says, “I sing that song and white women on the front row are crying.”  Anyone who has had a “Nana” who saw you as beautiful, understands the sustaining power of such unconditional love, even when you get out into the world, and are told your nose or bottom are too broad, or somehow you aren’t good enough, or beautiful enough, or smart enough.

Of all places, the Christian family, and the Church need to live out the unconditional love of our God, who made us and values us and through whose eyes we are each seen as precious, amazing, unique and wonderful. 

God is constantly pushing and pulling us toward love.  Constantly telling us that we are beloved and forgiven, and that we also must forgive.  Constantly leading us toward a healthy view of ourselves and what we have to offer to any community.  Constantly guiding us into rich relationships with others, those like us and those quite different from us.

We are heirs to so much passion, so much conviction, so much truth, from the prophets, from Jesus, from teachers and preachers and faithful people, from parents and grandparents!  We have received so many diverse gifts, which in spite of wars and trouble, pain and anxiety, lift us up and give us hope!

Jesus talked about his dream of the coming of the Realm of God, and Martin Luther King spoke of his dream of racial equality and freedom.  And both of them had even broader dreams.  Let me share with you a poem from King, which becomes a prayer, a prayer that some day words we know will be long forgotten.

One day, youngsters will learn words

they will not understand.

Children from India will ask:

What is hunger?

Children from Alabama will ask:

What is racial segregation?

Children from Hiroshima will ask:

What is the atomic bomb?

Children at school will ask:

What is war?

You will answer them.

You will tell them:

Those words are not used any more

like stage coaches, galleys or slavery;

Words no longer meaningful.

That is why they have been removed from dictionaries.

May it be so.  Amen.