In John’s gospel, Jesus inaugurates his ministry not with a dramatic healing of someone who is sick, but with the changing of water into wine at a wedding reception. As we read the account in John, we might be tempted to think that it’s a lovely and gracious thing to do, but that as a miracle, there are many more needy situations, desperate situations, that are more in keeping with the compassionate nature of Jesus. It seems somewhat odd that Jesus would begin his public ministry with such an extravagant, but not really necessary, miracle.

But if we reflect on what happens in the changing of water into wine at the wedding in Cana of Galilee, and what it might symbolize as a larger message, it becomes much more apparent why Jesus chose this action and this setting as his first miracle. In fact, our reading today from Isaiah (our Old Testament reading) gives us our first clue.

In the Isaiah passage, we hear from the prophet a vision of what a new relationship with God will be like in a happier time to come: “You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate; but you shall be called My Delight is in Her, and your land Married; for the Lord delights in you… For as a young man marries a young woman, so shall your builder marry you, and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you.”

As marriage here is a symbol of a new and happier relationship between God and Israel, so is the image of wine so abundant that it is overflowing. Verses from the prophet Amos and the prophet Joel both tell of God speaking of a wonderful time to come when “the mountains shall drip sweet wine and all the hills shall flow with it.”

For the Jews of Jesus’ time, the scriptural references to the delight of the marriage relationship and overflowing wine as symbols of how God will make everything come out all right in a time to come were well known. The scriptural references had given the Jews hope for hundreds of years that somehow and sometime God would make things right. And now here comes Jesus turning water into wine at a marriage feast in Cana. In the out of the way little village of Cana, at a local little marriage feast, at a far, far place from the center of Jewish religious life at the Temple in Jerusalem, Jesus performs the sign that makes the ancient scriptures come true. The party has begun; the wine is overflowing, and God is utterly and completely delighted.

That’s one way to understand the incredible power and significance of this miracle. But there are other levels of understanding too. Remember that Jesus says elsewhere in John’s gospel, “I am come that they (and “they” includes us) might have life and have it abundantly.” Here’s the first stunning example of the abundance of what Jesus has come to offer. The gallons and gallons and gallons of wine symbolize the abundant life offered to all of us who trust Jesus, who follow him, and who obey him as Lord of our lives.

The extravagance of the wine is a sign, too, of the overwhelming kind of hospitality – of welcoming – of including - that will be at the heart of Jesus’ ministry. All are invited to enjoy the feast, all are welcome to follow Jesus, all are welcome to receive the gift of new and abundant life that he has come to give.

The end of the passage we hear today says that “his disciples believed in him.” The disciples witnessed the changing of water into wine and saw in that abundant and gracious action a glimpse of the true character and identity of God. They don’t need another sign; they’re “on board” now – ready to follow this amazing and surprising Jesus out of the village of Cana, down through the hills of Galilee, and all the way south to Jerusalem, where the extravagant love of God will, in the midst of the horror of Holy Week, forever turn suffering into joy and death into new and eternal life.

As I imagined this gospel passage in my mind’s eye, I could picture those six huge stone jars. And I imagined those heavy jars holding water like they always had. As containers, they had a pretty utilitarian purpose. They just kind of stood there. And then all of the sudden, what’s inside of them completely changes into a whole new substance. The water inside those old, worn out stone jars gets transfigured into something entirely different.

I wonder if we human beings can be like that? Tired of being full of the same old stuff, and ready to be made full of something entirely different. That’s another image of what this gospel passage has to teach us and show us. Our tired old bodies and souls can be filled up with something brand-new as we open ourselves to the transforming, miraculous, extravagant, and delightful love of God in Christ Jesus. From somewhere I copied down this quote: “It is often said that life is what we choose to make it. Well, that is true in a sense, but it is a truer thing to say that life is what we let Christ make it.”

What miracle of transformation will Christ perform in us, if we offer our empty stone jars, our tired old souls, to be filled? What abundance of life is within reach for each of us if we let Christ perform a miracle inside of us? What delights might we receive if we allow God to love us from the inside out?

My grandmother used to say, as she finished eating her dinner and declined seconds, “I’ve had an ample sufficiency; any more would be a super-abundancy.” That works great at the dinner table, as a reminder to eat what we need and not to eat more than we need, but it doesn’t work in our spiritual lives.

The danger for us is in thinking we are what we are; what will be, will be; that we’ve got an ample sufficiency of all that’s on offer, spiritually and religiously speaking. We may think that out of a sense of spiritual complacency, or we may think that out of a real fear of what changes might be wrought in us if we really allowed God to fill us up.

But that’s the invitation and the lesson in the miracle of the changing of water into wine at the wedding in Cana of Galilee. Christ comes to show us that God delights in us so much that it can absolutely overflow our own stone jars; the stone jars of our minds, our bodies, and our souls. Christ comes to show us that all we’re required to do is simply, and thankfully, to receive the miraculous gift of transforming love that God holds out.

We remember the wedding feast in Cana of Galilee every Sunday when we gather; for in just a little while, you’re invited to come forward to be a part of the celebration. You and I are offered a taste of that good wine today; the good wine of Christ’s very presence. The miracle of changing water into wine has become the generous new miracle of changing wine into the very reality and presence of Christ.

You’ve heard the tag line, “Will miracles never cease?” Well, here are the miracles on offer today… Come and be filled with the presence of Christ. Come and grab hold of the abundant life you’ve been offered. Come and be transformed from a tired old stone jar into a walking and talking, real-life disciple of Jesus. Come and experience the delight that God has for you. Come, and be made new.

Amen.