Scripture can be found here…
Jesus, his mother, and his disciples all attend a wedding together, so let’s get right to it: was it, by any chance, Jesus’ wedding? That’s what Bishop John Spong claimed in his 1992 book, “Born of a Woman.” Twenty years later Biblical scholar Karen King introduced the public to a fragment of papyrus with Coptic text that contained Jesus using the phrase, “My wife…” Within a few months, though, it was discovered that the text was a fraud, modern writing on an ancient bit of papyrus. But the notion that Jesus was married—specifically, that he was married to Mary Magdalene—is anything but new. It has its origins in extrabiblical texts such as the 2nd century Gospel of Philip, which reports that Jesus and Mary Magdalene really liked to kiss a lot, and that she was his companion. The idea flares up repeatedly, gaining traction and then disappearing again in the Middle Ages and in the 19th century. It enters the mainstream in 2003, with the publication of Dan Brown’s bestseller, “The Da Vinci Code.” Brown’s novel concludes that the Holy Grail is no chalice; it’s the bloodline of Jesus, which, Brown alleges, exists to this day in France and the United Kingdom.
Scripture scholars are skeptical because scripture is silent on this matter. Mary Magdalene was undoubtedly a disciple of Jesus and was one of a group of women who subsidized Jesus and the disciples’ travel as their ministry moved through Galilee and beyond. She was the chief witness to the resurrection, the only person named in all four gospels as having been present at the empty tomb.
So why does this story persist? I think it’s fair to say the story we are sharing this morning bears some responsibility for that, but perhaps, not in the way we think.
The Gospel according to John stands apart from the other gospels. Instead of beginning with a birth or baptism story, it begins before the beginning of creation. The Jesus of Matthew, Mark, and Luke urges the disciples to be quiet about his identity as the Messiah, but John’s Jesus talks about it a lot. He speaks in what scholars call the “I Am” statements. I am the Bread of Life. I am the Light of the World. I am the Good Shepherd, and more, seven statements in all. The other gospels mention hundreds, perhaps thousands of miracles performed by Jesus, too many to count. John’s gospel mentions Signs, which are also miracles, but miracles that are indicators of Jesus’ true identity and nature—and there are only seven of them.
Here’s how the Sign unfolds in our story: the mother of Jesus intercedes with her son when she realizes the wedding party has run out of wine. (Culturally speaking, this would be a disaster. Jesus’ mother is sympathetic.) Jesus seems as if he will not act, but he does. Jesus tells the servants to fill six enormous stone jars with water. These jars were probably used for ritual hand-washing prior to the meal, but now they’re empty. They hold between 120 and 180 gallons of water. You know the rest—the servants bring a cup of the water-turned-wine to the steward, the master of ceremonies for the party. He is struck by the excellence of the wine, and makes a comment to the Bridegroom that it’s unusual to save the best for last.
Ah, the Bridegroom. We know absolutely nothing about this Bride and Bridegroom—they are blanks, ciphers. We can project anything we want upon them, and we will. John knows this. This is purposeful.
Bridegrooms pop up a lot in the other gospels. There we can find a parable about a king who invites many people to his son’s wedding, but they don’t want to come. There is another parable about ten young women—bridesmaids—who await the arrival of a bridegroom, and some are ready, but some are not. And in all three other gospels, Jesus, when asked why his disciples don’t fast or abstain from alcohol, says this: “The wedding guests cannot mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them, can they? The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast.” (Matt. 9:15; Mark 2:19-20; Luke 5:34-35)
In other words, Jesus is referred to as a bridegroom in the gospels. To be clear, Jesus refers to himself as a bridegroom in the gospels. But the gospel writers aren’t talking about his wedding to one woman. They are talking about what the Book of Revelation calls, the Marriage of the Lamb, what one source calls “the joyful, eternal, intimate fellowship that takes place between Jesus Christ and his bride—the Church.”
Weddings have gotten a bad rap in these days when reality shows expose “bridezillas” and more people than you’d think seem willing to spend a year’s salary on a party. But stripped back to the essentials, weddings are a celebration of life: two people come together, sometimes with the explicit hope of more life coming from their union in the form of children. To marry is to engage in an act of defiant optimism, to say, we undertake a commitment to one another, one that we desire to be permanent, and we do it against all odds. And that is worth celebrating, with a great big party, a party to which we invite everyone we love, and at which the wine will flow.
God as bridegroom and God’s people as bride is an ancient metaphor for God’s love and commitment to us—we heard that in the passage from Isaiah that Sue read for us. The story of the wedding at Cana uses this metaphor once again for God’s love as seen in the person of Jesus. This story tells us that God wants to celebrate with us. One writer puts it this way:
…Because [God’s] Son, by death and resurrection, has drawn all creation to himself as the bride of the Lamb—God wills above all to celebrate. And because when God is happy everybody should be happy, God extends a gracious invitation to join… in [God’s] joy.[i]
Jesus is among us, and God’s joy is at party-throwing level. God’s joy is at, ‘Let’s give them the best wine any of them has ever tasted’ level. The Sign of water-into-wine shines out with the love of God in this story. The Sign of water-into-wine is a Sign of God’s ineffable joy, and, potentially, ours, too.
God delights in us, and compares that love to the love of a bridegroom for his bride. God wants us to understand how wonderful, how delightful, how delicious this all is. God extends a gracious invitation to us: come to the feast. Taste the wine.
We have been invited. The party has begun. Why don’t we just… try a sip?
Thanks be to God. Amen.
[i] Robert Farrar Capon, Kingdom, Grace, Judgment: Paradox, Outrage, and Vindication in the Parables of Jesus (Grand Rapids, MI: William B Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2002), 457.