The Second Sunday after the Epiphany 2024

John 2:1-11

January 14, 2024

You can buy prayerbooks with long, beautiful, eloquent prayers. They have their place. But the prayers of the New Testament are not like that. They are simple. Direct.

In Mt. 14, Jesus trods on the stormy sea, symbolizing His Lordship over chaos and the demonic forces. Peter is skeptical:

When the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out for fear.

27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Be of good cheer! It is I; do not be afraid.”

28 And Peter answered Him and said, “Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water.”

29 So He said, “Come.” And when Peter had come down out of the boat, he walked on the water to go to Jesus. 30 But when he saw that the wind was boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink he cried out, saying, “Lord, save me!” [Mt. 14:26-30]

The whole situation is Peter’s own fault. He didn’t believe it was really Jesus, so he sets up a test. And in the middle of it being fulfilled, he gets afraid.

The easiest thing to do when we’ve messed up is to stop praying, stop asking for help. It might be from shame, or a determination to solve the problem on our own. But what Peter does is the right thing, the only thing to do. “Lord, save me!”

This prayer is found in the Psalms, slightly expanded. “I am Yours, save me” [Ps 119.94]. This is what it means to be a creature and to be baptized. If you are a creature, then you have a Creator. St. Irenaeus said, “God makes, man is made.” If you are made, you have a Maker. The Maker, the Creator is responsible for His creation, His creatures. The prayer appeals to God to care for what is His: “I am Yours, save me.” Baptism makes us doubly His: a redeemed Creature, with the Divine Name stamped upon us. “I am Yours, save me” can then be paraphrased, “I am baptized, keep Your promise.”

So now we turn to Mary. All the things that happened with Jesus, from the angel announcing His birth, to Simeon blessing the Child in the temple, to the Magi arriving with gifts, to the Boy Jesus discovered in the temple on the third day – we are repeatedly told that Mary keeps it all in her heart. She meditates on the words and promises.

And now, when the wedding is a disaster—and it seems that Mary has some role as hostess at this wedding—when the wedding is a disaster, she comes and simply presents the problem to Jesus: “They have no wine.” Not, “Go buy some wine,” or, “Turn water into wine,” but just simply, “They have no wine.” She doesn’t know what will happen. She just entrusts it to Jesus.

That’s how we pray. That’s faith.

Faith expects Divine help, but without expectation of how, when, or where. Just, “Jesus, help.” “I’m sinking.” “They have no wine.” “I’ve made a mistake.” “I’ve sinned.” “Lord, save me.”

She often didn’t understand, this Mother of Jesus. When told that she, a virgin, would conceive, she simply says, “Amen”: “Let it be to me according to your word.”

Never let the pastor say the Amen. It’s yours. It says, “Yes, I believe. I trust You, Lord, to answer.” The technique doesn’t matter, or having just the right words. Present the matter to Jesus. “They have no wine.” “I am troubled by my sins.” “I’m angry.” Just present the need to Jesus. Put it in His hands.

In John’s Gospel, the water-into-wine is the first Sign. Some translations say miracle, but that’s not right. It’s a sign. Signs don’t exist for themselves. They point to something.

What’s in this sign? A wedding, and wine.

In the Bible, wine symbolizes joy and community (and inside that word community is communion). Like many gifts of God, wine and alcohol are easily misused, abused. But God created it for a purpose.

And here at the wedding, it’s gone. The Bible begins and ends with a wedding: At the beginning, the marriage of our first parents; and at the end, the marriage of Christ and the Church, inaugurating the new creation.

In between these two weddings is the fall, and all the messed-up marriages, with rebellious children and false worship. The joy is gone; the wine seems to have run out, and what’s left isn’t sitting so well inside us.

The wine running out symbolizes the thorns creeping up from the ground, the betrayal of a friend, the death that comes to all in the end.

And it seems that Jesus isn’t listening.

He says to His mother, “What have I to do with thee?”

Instead of answering the prayer, Jesus appears distant, even angry. Now faith is tested, as we sink beneath the waves. We struggle, panic, lash out.

How does Mary respond? She does not lose heart.

She still trusts her Son. So she says to the servants, the deacons, “Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it.” She still puts the need in the hands of Jesus, and quietly waits. That is faith: quiet waiting, expecting God to act, trusting His goodness.

Jesus turns to the six stone waterpots. Six is the number of man. God made man on the sixth day, which we call Friday. Man rebelled, so six also stands for evil and rebellion. So when does Jesus die? On the sixth day. On the seventh He rests in the tomb. And on the first day of the week, He rises from the dead. It’s the new creation! That’s why we worship on Sunday, the first day of the week – in perpetual celebration and anticipation of the resurrection.

The six waterpots are made of stone, the same material as the tablets of the Law. Six for rebellion, stone for death.

The Jews used them for purification. But it never made them pure. Jesus takes the pots of stone and death, the attempt at purification, and He fills and transforms them.

The water for outward washing becomes wine for drinking. Washing is for the outside, but what Jesus gives goes to the inside, the source of our sin.

We come to the wine of the Eucharist looking for the same thing: help from the outside to purify our inside. In his first Epistle St. John says, “The blood of Jesus cleanses us from all sins.” All sins: the ones we’ve done, and the ones done to us. All is cleansed, washed away.

It’s a sign, pointing ahead to something greater: the wedding to come. The first wedding, the marriage of our first parents, was marred. The product of their union, Cain and Abel, ends in fratricide. And the human race has been at war ever since.

But Jesus is coming to the wedding. He is the second Adam, the true Bridegroom. He comes to save the wedding, renew the wine, raise the world.

So the Gospel ends with the disciples of Jesus believing on Him. This means they entrusted themselves to Him. From now on they would listen to His Words, and trust His promises, even when they couldn’t see how the problem could be fixed.

That’s what we go home with today. No matter the problem, we put it into His hands. “Lord, save me.” “I am Yours.” “Jesus, help.” “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Call upon Him in the day of trouble. He will answer. +INJ+