St. John’s Episcopal Church
Tallahassee, FL

John 2:1-11

Just as we here at St. John’s 
have recently been experiencing a baby boom, 
we’ve also been experiencing a wedding boom. 

We had one last night, 
one the week before, 
and we’ve got more on the way.

And after half a lifetime of officiating weddings, 
you know what I’ve noticed every wedding has?

That one guest.

Maybe it’s the one who shows up
wearing something wildly inappropriate
and makes a weird scene.

Maybe it’s the uncle who thinks he’s a stand-up comedian.

Or the college buddy who “helps himself” 
to the microphone at the reception and says, 
“Hey y’all, watch this.”

You know what I’m talking about.
Every wedding has a wild card.

And in today’s Gospel, it turns out that 
the wild card at the wedding 
is none other . . . 
than Jesus.

At first, Jesus keeps to himself,
like a good little wedding guest.

But by the end of the night,
he’s turned six massive stone jars of water
into 180 gallons of wine,
and the whole party is back in full swing.

This, by the way, is the first recorded miracle of Jesus, 
which may come as a surprise.

You might have thought his first miracle
would have been something a little more impressive.

Healing the sick?
Raising the dead?
Parting the sea?

Nope. 
Jesus’ first miracle happens
at a wedding reception.

With food,
and drink,
and music,
and laughter.

And if that feels surprising,
then good. 
because that means we’re paying attention.

* * *

Weddings in Jesus’ day were a huge deal.

People didn’t just throw a reception.
They threw a multi-day festival.

And everyone in the community came—
friends, family, neighbors,
and probably a few folks who just heard there’d be free food.

The bride and groom would be paraded through town
like a king and queen for the day.

People crowned them with flowers,
sang songs,
and made toasts that, I’m guessing, 
were just as awkward as today’s.

And then came the feast.
and this is where it gets interesting.

You see, at these weddings,
it was the groom’s job to provide the wine.

And not just a little.
You needed a lot
because running out of wine wasn’t just awkward—
it was humiliating, 
and your reputation was on the line.

So when the wine runs out
at this particular wedding in Cana,
it’s a big deal.

And into this disaster steps Mary,
the mother of Jesus.

She doesn’t panic.
She doesn’t shout.

She just goes over to Jesus and says,
“They have no wine.”

Now, let’s be real:
this moment is hilarious.

Because Jesus—
the incarnate Son of God,
the firstborn of all creation, 
the Word made flesh 
God from God, 
Light from Light, 
true God from true God, 
begotten, not made, 
through whom 
every atom, 
every planet, 
every galaxy, 
every heartbeat 
came into being—
is sitting at a wedding,
minding his own business,
when his mama slides over and says,
“Hey boy, you need to fix this.”

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

Which, let’s be honest,
is maybe the ancient Jewish equivalent of:
“Ma, get off my back!”

But Mary doesn’t argue.
She just looks at the servants and says,
“Do whatever he tells you.”

And that’s when things start to change.

* * *

You see, Jesus doesn’t just solve the problem.
He transforms it.

He takes ordinary water,
meant for washing dirty feet,
and turns it into the best wine anyone has ever tasted.

And not just a bottle or two—
but 180 gallons.

This isn’t just abundance.
This is ridiculous abundance.

It’s like showing up to a potluck
and someone bringing a Costco-sized pallet of caviar.

And that’s the point.
Because this isn’t actually a story about wine.

It’s a story about who God is.

This is a story about the fact that 
God isn’t stingy.
God doesn’t ration grace.

God’s love is lavish.
God’s grace is extravagant.

And when Jesus shows up,
he doesn’t just make things better.

He makes them new.

* * *

Now, I know what some of you are thinking:
“Okay, but what about when it doesn’t feel like that?”

Because let’s be real:
sometimes, the jars feel pretty darn empty.

This week, we’ve all seen the devastation
of the California fires.

Entire neighborhoods turned to ash.
Families displaced.
Lives uprooted.

It’s hard for us to even process what that must be like, 
let alone imagine “abundance”
in the face of such horrible loss.

But here’s the thing:
these are the moments 
and these are the places 
where Jesus does his best work.

In the ashes.
In the emptiness.
In all the places where hope feels lost.

Jesus steps into those moments
not to pretend the pain isn’t real,
but to remind us that the story isn’t over.

Jesus takes what’s empty
and fills it to the brim.

Jesus takes what’s ordinary
and makes it extraordinary.

Jesus takes what feels like the end
and transforms it into a beginning. 

And when things are working as they should, 
Jesus does most if not all these things 
through the hands and hearts and feet 
of people like you and me.

This has a name, 
and it’s called Hope.

* * *

So, what does all this mean for us?

Well, it means that when Jesus shows up,
things are going to get interesting 
because Jesus isn’t the type 
to just sit quietly at the edge.

And here’s the best part: 
he’s not just the unexpected guest 
at a wedding in Cana.

He’s the unexpected guest in your life, too.

He’s the one who sees your empty jars
and fills them with joy.

He’s the one who sees your ordinary
and makes it extraordinary.

He’s the one who picks up the microphone 
and takes what seems hopeless
and says, “Hey y’all, watch this.”

He’s the one who brings hope,
and laughter,
and transformation
to the table 
and makes sure everyone 
has a reason to dance.

And that, my friends, is grace for us today.

With this Jesus, 
you don’t have to worry and wonder 
if the wine will run out.
You don’t have to ration joy,
or live like love has limits.

Because when Jesus shows up,
there is always more than enough.

The jars are full,
the table is set,
the wine is flowing,
and with this Jesus, 
the party is just getting started.

Amen.