Sermon: The Party’s Not Over Yet [1]
Texts: Isaiah 62:1-5; John 2:1-11
Date: January 17, 2010
Rev. Dee Eisenhauer, Eagle Harbor Congregational Church
Let’s imagine the name of the steward at the wedding feast in this Cana story was Ezekial, Zeke for short. Zeke had worked many weddings as a steward, a master of ceremonies, but this was one of the best weddings he had been part of. Everyone, from the servers to the bride and groom, from the hired musicians to the guests of honor, was held in the presence of great love. People expressed their deep joy in their singing and dancing. The guests sparkled in their conversation and laughter. Rarely had Zeke seen people cut loose and enjoy themselves so thoroughly as they were that bright day.
But the party was about to end. Why? The wine had run out. What a disaster! It would be a horrible embarrassment to the wedding party—at that time if guests were not properly provided for, they could even sue the host and couple for damages. It was a serious, legal matter to disappoint the guests. The groom and his parents would probably never live this down in the neighborhood.
Zeke didn’t know what to do. He whispered the bad news to the groom and refilled as many empty cups as possible with the dregs of the wine that was left. He sat back helplessly and waited for the inevitable termination of the party.
I once studied this text with a friend who had actually attended a wedding where the wine ran out. The ceremony and reception took place on a boat that was contracted to cruise around Lake Washington for four hours. The boat was cruising all right, but the party wasn’t, because the wine ran out well over an hour before the cruise was over. My friend said it was pretty grim. She got so bored that she went below decks and found a bed to nap on for the duration.
I don’t think this is a commentary so much about wine itself, as if any celebration needs alcohol to fuel it, because that isn’t so. But you know most celebrations revolve around food and drink. Fun food and fun drink. You don’t throw a party and put out a little salad bowl of puffed wheat breakfast cereal and glasses of tepid tap water. Wine has been a festive beverage of choice for millennia. Psalm 104 refers to wine as a gift of God to “gladden the heart.” When the cupboard is bare and wine runs out, or when whatever you were serving to gladden the heart is gone, the party’s over.
Dr. Susanne Vanderlugt, a minister in the United Church of Canada, points out that most of us experience times in our lives when it seems like the wine has run out. You walk into work one morning and the boss greets you with a pink slip. “Sorry,” she says, “but the company can’t afford to keep you. Your position has been eliminated.” Or your last child leaves home and you’re eaten up by loneliness. Or your spouse hints darkly that they’re not sure they want to be married any more. Or the doctor’s exam turns up a lump where no lump ought to be. Looks like the party’s about to be over. The “wine”—that which was good and desirable and brought joy into your life—runs out. The dregs of what once gave us meaning are bitter.
The same may be true for a community. It may be true for a church. A pillar of the church dies, or a member leaves in a snit, and grief and sorrow have their day. A sense of inadequacy may prevail as numbers decline while the neighboring church thrives and welcomes people who have left our fellowship in disappointment. Nationally, the UCC, like other mainline churches, has declined in membership every year for the last thirty or forty years. Looks like the party may soon be over for mainline churches.
Seems like someone is always singing that “Turn out the lights, the party’s over” song somewhere out there. “The party’s over, it’s time to call it a day; they’ve burst your pretty balloon and taken the moon away. Now you must wake up, all dreams must end…the party’s over, it’s all over, my friend.” It may have to do with the stock market, the job market, the environment, the government, the energy supply….the same theme song has got verse after verse after verse. There is always someone predicting that the party’s over. Often, such proclamations are based on observation that something is running out; there’s not enough of something. There’s not enough capital, not enough customers, not enough health care resources, not enough members, not enough space, not enough, not enough, not enough.
The old classic American Dream seems to be running dry these days. Lots of folk are wondering if there’s enough of the American Dream to go around for the number and variety of people who want to share in it—the promise of freedom and meaningful work and equal opportunity and good education and adequate housing and nutritious food. Maybe the party’s over.
In 1963 Martin Luther King, Jr. called the nation to account for being miserly about sharing the benefits of the American Dream with their neighbors. He said during the historic March on Washington,
In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. [2]
“Insufficient funds.” Not enough. That is an idea that has often prevailed in our nation in spite of our relative wealth. We got ours, sort of, but there’s not enough for you—not enough jobs, not enough opportunity, not enough what? Not enough dignity? Not enough privilege? But as King implies, it’s not so much that there’s not enough, as it is that those who hold the keys to the vaults have been reluctant to open them up and share the wealth within.
One of the most commonly used strategies in human interaction for conveying a message of insufficiency is captured in what Jesus says to his mother when she reports that the hosts at the wedding had run out of wine. He replies, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me?” Such a very human thing to say, don’t you think? Humans are forever going around declaring that the fact that someone doesn’t have enough is none of their business, not their concern, not their problem. It’s one of the ways those with enough send the check back marked “insufficient funds” when those who lack something ask for a just share.
Another strategy is captured in the second half of Jesus’ reply. “My hour has not yet come.” In the Gospel of John, this phrase is repeated by Jesus several times to indicate that God was in charge of the timing of events. But most humans use this kind of strategy to put off a demand for justice or sharing. We have a way of saying, “not yet.” Wait a while. Let people get used to the idea. Let’s see what the economy does, and then decide. King’s writings often mention that white leaders frequently urged him to slow down the civil rights movement. King answered with passionate reminders of “the fierce urgency of now.” He said, “This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to…make justice a reality for all God’s children.”
Meanwhile, back in Cana, Mary was the voice of the fierce urgency of now. Now is the time. And it is our concern. Somehow Mary communicated this urgency to her son. She got him to set aside the strategies of “none of my business” and “not yet.” I would love to know how she managed it. Maybe she just gave his one of those looks moms are famous for. Those mom looks can be powerful and effective, amen? It seems God got a message through to Jesus through the pointed influence of his mother. Ready or not, he reveals his glory in a marvelous sign.
We left Zeke the wine steward sitting uneasily in his chair, awaiting what looks like the inevitable ending of the party. He’s poured out the dregs of the wine and is filled with sadness for the bridegroom and his family. He feels powerless to avert social disaster.
Suddenly a servant rushes in and presents him with more wine. Zeke doesn’t even have time to wonder where it came from before he is entranced with the fragrance reaching his experienced nose. Mmmm…the bouquet of plummy blue-black fruit with earthy overtones and just a hint of spicy pepper. He admires the color, a deep red jewel tone, clear as a summer’s day. Swirling the lush liquid in the chalice, he observes that it has great legs. Now he is ready for a taste. Holding it on his tongue, the wine fairly sings to him of sun-drenched vineyards with birds and butterflies hovering among the heavy fruit. Swallowing, he exclaims, “Ahhh..clean, complete, and noble, with a very long finish.” Zeke is flabbergasted. This wine was far superior to the first wine that had been served, which had been a fine vintage. He pays the bridegroom the highest possible compliment. “Everyone serves the best wine first and the inferior wine last, after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the finest vintage until now. I drink to your health and prosperity, sir!” He instructs the servants to bring the rest of the wine in, hoping there would be enough so that everyone could have at least a little sip of the delicious wine. Servants stagger in with the first of the jars, and then a parade of servants bring in jar after jar. By the time they finish carrying it in, an astonished Zeke estimates that there are at least 120 gallons of fine wine ready to be enjoyed. This party was far from over.
This is the very first action of Jesus as messiah in the gospel of John. It’s the inaugural “ta-da!” of God in Christ, a sign of the new thing God is doing in the world. Let’s presume that the sign is not random but meant to tell us something about the character of Jesus and the spirit of the God who sent him.
What do you suppose it means? First off, when the wine runs out, the party is not over. God continues to break into our lives. Just when we think we’ve run dry and there’s not enough, God busts in and floods us with an abundance of joyful grace. We may think the party’s over, that as the melancholy song goes, “all dreams must end,” but such thinking has overlooked the presence of a rather significant guest.
I’ve been musing on the notion that we may actually have to run dry sometimes before God’s grace is revealed. You know, if we are sure we are self-sufficient, that we can handle it, whatever “it” is, that we’ve made preparations for every possible emergency and plans for every contingency, and we don’t need any help…well, where is the time and space for God to do God’s work? I myself like being self-sufficient, but I have to admit that the richest experiences of God’s grace often come at those moments when I’m at the end of my resources. And that’s a good thing. If I never needed anything or anyone, I might spend my whole life drinking the flat, sour, Box-O-Lots-O-Wine I can afford (metaphorically speaking), never knowing the joy of receiving the rich and complex gifts of God.
I’m going to continue to muse on this while we wrestle with a budget deficit this year. I would rather we weren’t $12,000 short of the income we need for the expenses we anticipate. But rather than starting to sing, “turn off the lights, the party’s over,” I hope we will be on the lookout for an infusion of grace that may find us as we get perilously close to the end of the resources we can see. How will we get more creative? More interdependent? More ingenious? More compassionate for those who have never known the ease of self-sufficiency? More generous? More open to God’s call, and more trusting in God’s grace?
Ours is a relatively minor problem in the great scheme of things. I’m only bringing it up because it may be an opportunity for our church to recall that God is an honored guest at this party and this is no time to panic. It is, rather, time to anticipate that we are going to grow closer to God as we wait to see what fine wine God’s going to make out of the water we have at hand. Transformation is a lively possibility when circumstances or choices lead us to rely on God. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave voice to this once as he talked about how he had become more and more convinced of the reality of a personal God. He wrote, “Perhaps the suffering, frustration and agonizing moments which I have had to undergo occasionally as a result of my involvement in a difficult struggle have drawn me closer to God. Whatever the cause, God has been profoundly real to me in recent months. In the midst of outer dangers I have felt an inner calm and known resources of strength that only God could give. In many instances I have felt the power of God transforming the inner fatigue of despair into the buoyancy of hope.” [3]
Hope is what we need, and hope is what the whole word needs in difficult days. Even when it looks for all the world like the party’s over, people of faith must learn to trust that it is not. God wants abundant life for all, and God’s grace is sufficient. Our role is to avoid the seduction of gloom and doom, stop hoarding what we have in excess, stop guarding the vaults of opportunity, and start looking for ways to reveal and make real God’s joyful abundance. We need a taste of the faith that Martin Luther King, Jr. had. When he accepted his Nobel Peace Prize he said, “I accept this award today with an abiding faith in America and an audacious faith in the future of mankind. I refuse to accept that the “isness” of man’s present nature makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the “oughtness” that forever confronts him.” [4]
Doesn’t much matter what you’ve run out of to date, or what you’re nervous about running out of soon. Keep Jesus on the guest list of your life. Drink deeply of the creative transformation God offers as a gift to each of us. Taste the bitter and the sweet blended together in a harmony we can hardly understand; taste the rich gifts of earth intermingling with the spirit that reaches beyond the stars. It’s a fine draught of joy and hope God pours out for us, and the best vintage is yet to come.
[1] Revision of a sermon originally preached Jan. 18, 1998
[2] King, Jr., Martin Luther “I Have a Dream” The Essential Writings and Speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr. James M. Washington, ed. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1986, p. 217
[3] Ibid. King “Pilgrimage to Nonviolence” p. 40
[4] Ibid, King “Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech” p. 225