My hour has not yet come

  • January 19, 2016

water to wineJohn 2:1-11

“Woman, what concern is that to you and me? My hour has not yet come.”

This is what Jesus has to say to his Mother in the gospel today. Not exactly the attitude you’d hope for in a Lord and Savior. Not exactly the attitude you’d hope for in a son.

Jesus has been busy so far in this gospel. It all begins when he shows up one day at the Jordan River. John the Baptist immediately recognizes Jesus as the Lamb of God, proclaims his identity to the crowd, and baptizes him, as the Spirit descends from heaven like a dove. A big day in the life of a Messiah, you might say. But things are just getting started.

On the second day, as Jesus walks by, John declares again, “Look, here is the lamb of God!” Two of John’s disciples decide that Jesus may be the better person to follow, and before he knows it, Jesus is being trailed by Andrew and Simon Peter.

On the third day, Jesus determines that the Jordan may not be a safe place for him to stay. He heads off to Galilee with Andrew and Simon Peter. Once there, Jesus invites Philip to join his new crew, and Philip recruits Nathaniel. Suddenly, Jesus has four disciples. I wonder if he knows what to do with them.

But here is where it really gets interesting. Just three days after Jesus arrives in Galilee there is a wedding. Jesus, his brand-new disciples, and his Mother are all invited. I’m not sure I’d want to party with my Mom and my new congregation, but apparently Jesus decides to go. While they are there, a hospitality disaster ensues. Mary comes to Jesus, saying: “they have no wine.” And Jesus replies: “Woman, what concern is that to you and me? My hour has not yet come.”

Jesus is rude to his mother. But it’s hard to know what’s behind it. Maybe he doesn’t want to set the tone for his ministry by providing alcohol at a wedding. Maybe he’s not eager to perform miracles just because his Mother says he should. Maybe Jesus just doesn’t feel ready, on approximately day six of his public ministry, to try out his powers in front of such a large crowd. We don’t know, but what comes out of his mouth according to the Gospel of John is: “Woman, what concern is that to you and me? My hour has not yet come.”

But Mary is impervious to Jesus’ caution, his dismissal, his disdain. In a stroke of parenting genius, Mary says to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you,” and leaves the scene.

Jesus takes the bait. He asks the servants to fill six stone water jars with water. When they draw the water out again, it has become at least 120 gallons of excellent wine. The gospel writer declares: “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.”

In other words, it goes well. Andrew and Peter and Philip and Nathaniel are really impressed. Thousands of years later, people are still talking about that whole “water into wine” party trick at the wedding in Cana of Galilee. And Jesus himself seems to gain a lot of confidence from the experience. Just a few days later, according to this Gospel, Jesus goes up to Jerusalem and drives the money changers out of the holy temple, the center of his faith.

How do we know when we’re ready? How do we know when our time has come? How do we know when it’s time for another spiritual growth spurt, or a public viewing of our most private and precious gifts?

It’s a good season to consider these questions. Some of us have New Year’s resolutions, and are hoping to turn over some kind of new leaf. In the life of the church, in this Epiphany season, we not only witness Jesus coming into his own, but also the decisions of his disciples to leave everything behind and follow him. And this is the weekend when we remember the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., a man who died at just 39, but whose faith and courage and leadership continue to shape our country for the better.

Now we who are gathered here today are not Jesus. Our mothers may be grateful. We are not one of the twelve who followed him most closely. We are not Martin Luther King Jr.. But all of us have been created in the image of God. And all of us are called to discover and share the gifts that God has given us.

How do we know when we’re ready? How do we know when our time has come? How do we know when it’s time for another spiritual growth spurt, or a public viewing of our most private and precious gifts?

If Jesus is any indication, we may not be the best ones to judge our own readiness. It never seems like the right time for the disruptive kind of growth that God calls us into. It never seems like a convenient moment for that kind of change: for us, for our families, or for our congregation. “My hour has not yet come,” Jesus protests.

But luckily for Jesus, and for us, there are irritating people in the world who take it upon themselves to challenge us to grow anyway. People like John the Baptist, who sees a gift and proclaims it out loud for everyone to hear. People like Mary, who sees an opportunity and makes sure we know about it.

When someone’s proclamation or invitation makes you angry, when it really gets under your skin, pay attention. It’s possible that you’re irritated because you are resisting growth. Growing is exhausting, and inconvenient. It costs a lot of time and emotion and sometimes even money. Growing is uncomfortable and sometimes even terrifying. But this is what travelling with God does to us. God just keeps giving us opportunities that we don’t really want to open up our hearts and live in a new way.

Who is John the Baptist in your life right now? Who is Mary? What are the messages that you have been hearing, the invitations, the irritations, that you’ve been putting off?

It may be that there is something God is calling you to do. There may be a task waiting for your particular gifts, perhaps a gift you don’t even know you have. It’s even more likely that there is something God is calling you to be: a little more grateful, a little less fearful, a little more generous, a little less angry, a little more bold, a little less self-concerned; just a little more of who you really are, at your best.

It’s the epiphany season, Jesus’ coming out party. A new star has risen above the manger, a dove has dropped down over the river Jordan, and Jesus is outed as a Messiah, an anointed one of God, uniquely gifted to bear God’s light in the world.

But in this time more than two thousand years after Jesus’ death, it is  the church – the movement, the body of Jesus followers, who are called to show forth God’s light. Each one of us must listen for who and what is calling us, responding to the irritating invitations of angels and prophets and mothers.

“Woman, what concern is that to you and me? My hour has not yet come.” But it was his hour. And it is our hour, now, one of the only ones we’ve got. May you shine, may you shine, may you shine.