Given by Revd Clare Hayns
19th January 2025 at 8.30am
Epiphany 2C
Nine years ago, both my younger brothers got ordained on the same day. I had already been ordained a few years earlier, and it was all much to the bemusement of our wider family, as no one in our family line had had anything to do with the church before.
My confused Aunt’s comment was ‘how can they go into the Church… they were always such party people’. The Benyons (my family name) were known within the family as party people: the ones who love to organise a get-together, the ones who tend to stay on the dance floor the longest (to the embarrassment of the younger generation).
My Aunt was under the impression that Christians, ‘The Church’, and especially vicars, were the pole opposite of party people. Why did she have this impression?
It’s a sad truth that much of the message of the Church gives the message to the world that we follow a God who likes to say ‘no’, who has limited grace, and this limited grace is reserved for a particular type of person, normally good, well behaved and sensible.
And so, to the gospel reading this morning from John. The very first act of Jesus’ public ministry was at a party, a wedding in the small town of Cana, and it involving copious amounts of wine.
Just before this, John the Baptised had prophesied about one who would come after him. He said:
‘from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace’. (John 1.16)
John was saying that someone would be coming who will pour out grace upon grace on his people. John’s gospel consists of seven signs as to what that ‘grace upon grace’ looks like.
And this is the first of John’s signs. It all takes place ‘on the third day’ (v.1), reminding us that this is a sign that points towards the ultimate grace – the resurrection.
Jesus and the disciples had been invited to a wedding. Weddings in those times (and still in some areas) lasted about 3-5 days and the whole village would be invited. The generosity of the host was a sign to the community of the generosity and blessing that God had bestowed on that family. At some point, the wine had run out. This would have been hugely embarrassing for the host. Mary believes that Jesus can transform the situation.
The huge jars are filled up with water. The stone water-jars, John tells us, were for use in the Jewish rites of purification. There are six of them, each having a capacity, we are told, of twenty or thirty gallons.
I once worked out with some students what that might look like – it was the capacity of a household wheelie bin! How many bottles of wine is that? It turns out you need 160 bottles to fill one wheelie bin. The wedding party at Cana had six of them. That is 960 bottles of wine. That’s a LOT of wine. And not cheap plonk: it was the best wine.
What does this sign tell us about God’s grace?
Firstly, that God’s Grace is abundant, generous, expansive. God’s grace looks like vats of wine overflowing at a wedding. The wine was more than enough, it was ridiculous, it was joyful, over the top.
We live in a culture which focuses on scarcity rather than abundance. We are constantly reminded what we don’t have – that there isn’t enough, and we don’t have enough.
Brene Brown, the American writer says:
“We wake up in the morning and we say, ‘I didn’t get enough sleep.’ And we hit the pillow saying, ‘I didn’t get enough done.” [1]
Cana reminds us that when it comes to God’s grace, there is more than enough.
That’s what John the Baptist meant when he said ‘out of his fullness we have received grace upon grace’ – there is enough to go round –it doesn’t run out – It’s like 960 bottles of the best wine.
The second thing the sign of Cana tells us is that God’s grace is inclusive, for everyone.
The wine was given to everyone there regardless of whether they noticed the gift of the miracle or not. The only people who knew what had happened were the servants, Mary and the disciples. The Master knew it tasted good but didn’t know where the wine came from; the bride and bride groom hadn’t a clue; and most of the guests had already had a few and probably didn’t even notice how great the wine was. But they all received it.
God’s love and grace is abundantly generous, it overflows even to those who don’t realise where it comes from. And this love and grace flows from Jesus, who gives himself to us, a gift that costs us nothing, and him, everything.
I’ll end with a poem by Malcolm Guite (Epiphany at Cana):[2]
Here’s an epiphany to have and hold,
A truth that you can taste upon the tongue,
No distant shrines and canopies of gold
Or ladders to be clambered rung by rung,
But here and now, amidst your daily living,
Where you can taste and touch and feel and see,
The spring of love, the fount of all forgiving,
Flows when you need it, rich, abundant, free.
Better than waters of some outer weeping,
That leave you still with all your hidden sin,
Here is a vintage richer for the keeping
That works its transformation from within.
‘What price?’ you ask me, as we raise the glass,
‘It cost our Saviour everything he has.’
[1] Brené Brown, Daring Greatly
[2] https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/tag/water-into-wine/#:~:text=The%20set%20readings%20for%20this%20third%20Sunday%20of%20Epiphany%20tell,rightly%20calls%20it%20a%20sign.
Featured image: The Marriage at Cana 1562-1563), Paolo Vernese