The Best for Last - John 2:1-12

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

The party had run out of wine. It was Jesus’ fault. Boy, that will get your attention, won’t it – to lay blame at Jesus’ sinless feet. But, in this case, it’s true. Well, at least, it’s partly true. It’s partly Jesus fault, as well as the fault of His disciples and His mother, Mary, because they were guests at the celebration. Presumably, they had helped consume the wine, eating and drinking along with everyone else at the celebration. Therefore, Jesus – as well as each guest who had enjoyed a glass of wine – was at fault for running out of wine.

Now, that’s a different way of thinking about things, isn’t it? Contrast that with our modern, North American mindset. Imagine running out of beer at a Texas wedding. The guests would be in high revolt, and the fingers of blame and shame would be pointing right at the bride and groom. It’s their fault – they didn’t plan properly. They didn’t take into account his frat brothers showing up, or her crazy Uncle Eddie who was sloshed before the first toast. No, in our culture when you are invited to a wedding celebration, you expect that, as the guest, you will be wined and dined at the host’s expense. Failure to be fed or lubricated lies at the foot of the host.

It was a different world in Jesus’ time. Like today, yes, the hosts had responsibility to take care of the guests’ needs, but – believe it or not – the guests also bore a certain responsibility to the hosts. They called it the duty of reciprocation. But, truly, it was the summary of the second table of the Commandments, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” put into practice.

Jesus, as the head of this unique family, was the one who would be called upon to act. Mary gives Jesus important information: they have no wine. Her statement is a prayer, of sorts. She is giving information; she is identifying the problem; she is also identifying the One who can resolve the problem by providing the needed wine. It wasn’t as much a request as it was a statement of faithfulness and understanding: Jesus will act. You know this because she tells the stewards standing nearby, “Do whatever He says.”

But, why must Jesus act? How can Mary speak with such confidence? Several reasons: Jesus is her Son; He is the head of the household; there is a cultural obligation to meet. What Maray misses, though, is a greater reason - Jesus does this to fulfill the Law: Love your neighbor.

Love your neighbor. Luther explains it this way: you show love by not hurting nor harming our neighbor, but helping and befriending him in his needs. Jesus helps and befriends the unnamed groom.

But it’s just a wedding. Why does Jesus care? It’s just some wine. It’s just a moment of embarrassment. This is small potatoes. It’s not like other narrative es we know, other times when Jesus steps in, like the centurion’s servant who was dying, or the demon-possessed boy, or the 5000 who could riot if not fed, it’s not Lazarus who was 3-days dead in the tomb.

That’s exactly the point: Jesus is fulfilling the Law by demonstrating what love looks like, even if it is “only” over wine. Jesus demonstrates His love for us, even in what seems to be the small stuff. Jesus doesn’t quantify love as big or small; He simply loves. Yet, His love is anything but simple. It is full, complete, love without boundary or limit. Jesus’ love is perfect in quality; it is unending in quantity.

Imagine it was your best friend’s wedding in crisis. You might run down to the 7-11 to grab a couple bottles of Boone’s Farm to give everyone enough for a final toast. You might run a little interference to take the heat off the groom. You might do this for a best friend, but if it’s just someone you know and aren’t particularly close to, would you do the same? We qualify our neighborly love to determine who we serve. We quantify our love to figure out how much we will love. Jesus does neither.

Jesus love is extraordinary, demonstrated in His own time and in His own way to his neighbor. It’s also demonstrated without qualification or quantification. What else can Jesus do, but bring the best in caring for His neighbor. This isn’t Two Buck Chuck; this is the kind of wine kept in locked, climate-controlled cellars and reserved for only the most intimate of friends and family. But that’s who these people are for Jesus: the groom’s guests are Jesus’ neighbors, all of them recipients – even unknowingly, but still recipients – of His loving action. And, it’s not just a little bit of the good stuff. This is somewhere around 150 gallons, which would be around 700 bottles of excellent, magnificent wine. Jesus has saved the best – both in quality and quantity – for last.

Jesus loves His neighbors perfectly. There is no joyful laughter at the groom’s embarrassment. There isn’t complaining about how the guests are being mistreated. There isn’t gossip questioning where the money for the wine has gone, or why there seems to be missing wine. There’s no trying to manipulate the crowd. There’s no with-holding the best wine for his own private after-party. Instead, Jesus loves; Jesus gives.

He gives the best. In the text, only the master of ceremonies recognizes the gift, but he misses out on the giver, mistakenly giving credit to the groom. St. John makes sure we know: the giver is Jesus; He saves the best for last.  He saves the best for last: Himself for the sins of the world. While the sign does show Jesus’ glory as the Son of God, it is not yet His hour. His hour is yet to come. There is much foreshadowing here: the water to wine foreshadows when Christ takes the cup with His disciples and says “This is my blood, shed for you.” The sign of water to wine is also reversed at the cross when blood and water are separated and flow from His pierced side. And, to make sure you know that this is all pointing to the cross, at Cana, Jesus hour had not yet come. In the Garden of Gethsemane, with His disciples resting nearby, Jesus prays, “Now the hour has come,” (17:1). The cross is – literally and figuratively – on the horizon. Mary, Jesus’ mother, is present here. The only other time Mary appears in John’s Gospel is when she stands at the foot of the cross when her Son shows His perfect love for a sinful world.

John tells us this is the first of Jesus’ signs – you’ll note, he doesn’t call it a miracle. It’s a sign. That’s John’s way of illustrating Jesus isn’t just a miracle worker; He is God in flesh. He is Messiah. Remember, Jesus means “Savior.” In the book of Exodus, the same word is to describe what Moses does before Pharaoh with God’s authority and power. In Jesus’ ministry, signs show Jesus to be God. In Exodus, it illustrates Moses as God’s spokesperson. Jesus is the very Word of God made flesh. Moses set Israel free from slavery in Egypt. In Christ, God is also setting His people free from the burden of sin, death and the devil. Jesus will save; Jesus will exodus God’s people. In Christ, what began in the Exodus is coming to fruition. God’s people are free. John names seven signs in His Gospel, the 7^th being Lazarus’ resurrection. Seven is a number of completion; eight is a number of a new beginning. There is an eighth sign, but it isn’t named because it’s so obvious: Jesus own resurrection. And, baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection, you are given a new beginning.

They are free to love. So, what does it look like when we practice neighborly love? There are lots of ways. You see a single parent sitting in the pew, wrestling with a squirming child and growing more and more frustrated. Get up; offer to help. After church, offer a word of encouragement instead of criticism. You hear a neighbor has received a difficult medical diagnosis. Pick up a couple of kolaches and cups of coffee; drop by and visit with a word of encouragement, a prayer for hope, and a verse of Scripture that reminds them of Christ’s great love for them. If a co-worker gets the dreaded pink-slip, give them a call that evening and keep checking in on them in the days and weeks ahead. If you see a kid at school who’s being picked on or who sits alone at lunch, text them after school, inviting him or her to sit with you and your friends.

And, when you do that, you are showing the neighborly love of Christ to that person. It's possible that, like the guests in Cana, those people may not recognize the gift of neighborly love is actually Christ's love. But, then again, they might. And, in their prayers that evening, they may thank God for you because He saved the best for last. 

In the name of Jesus.
Amen.