John 2.1-11
“DEEP, TRANSFORMING ABUNDANCE”
In this, as in so many things, we go in one of two directions. Either we are aware of and tap into the great abundance within which God has set us in this world. And we operate out of that blessed awareness in all that we do. And that lends joy, light, and festivity to life. Or we conclude that God has placed us in a world of scarcity, of not having enough--not enough food, not enough money, not enough love, attention or praise. That, of course, casts a pall in a room before we enter it.
And the odd thing about this is I have met millionaires who operate out of a place of scarcity and dirt-poor, barefoot peasants who live out of a place of abundance. The spiritual politics of abundance and scarcity for the most part say much more about what is happening within our hearts than how we are outwardly prospered.
Have you ever thought about your life in these terms? It can offer us real insight.
I am not the only one with this approach. In fact, most everyone, many of whom have no religious faith, subscribe to these terms. After all, how often do you hear others describe themselves as a glass-half-empty or a glass-half-full type person. Practically every day we hear it. And it’s a bit of a cliché, yes, glass half empty, glass half full. But we resort to it because it works and because this is important.
This isn’t a sermon about optimism versus pessimism. It is not because I confess I don’t believe in optimism and pessimism, although some use the terms as polar north and south. Yes, I realize that many are born with human natures that are positive or negative, more or less. But optimism and pessimism are mostly dang-ling modifiers. They just hang out there, unattached to anything. Optimistic or pessimistic about what, I want to ask? Or because of what? They are too vague, too isolated, too generic to cut through our experience and explain very much.
Instead I believe in hope and despair. For the Gospel invites us to think in terms like hope and despair, the actual polar north and south of human contentment. Those who face life operating out of a sense of abundant blessing are people of hope. Those fearing never having enough, afraid of scarcity, are vulnerable to despair, to the sad notion that God’s love is inadequate to subdue evil and death.
And when you think about it, where is hope and despair more at stake than at a wedding and the lofty promises there exchanged? Ah, yes, that gets us back to today’s Gospel text. It is the first story from Jesus’ ministry in John’s Gospel. And the water become 180 gallons of wine represents a miracle of plenty, of joyous and overflowing abundance. At the beginning of the story, it tells us that the wedding happened on the third day. What John means by that is the miracle of water turned to wine is somehow tied to Jesus’ resurrection. That as Jesus sets foot on this earth, as he enters our midst in the everyday events of our lives, there is an abundance of love, and abundance of glory, a remarkable epiphany.
Epiphany is the season when we celebrate the wonder of God with us as Jesus the Christ. Epiphany marks when Jesus stepped onto the scene, and things starting to break forth, break out, and overflow beyond our wildest imaginations.
As we live from a sense of abundance in Christ, have you ever noticed how good appears and spreads at the frontiers of living? We feel like we can step out a little bit and not live a narrow, constricted, tit-for-tat life. Some Christians, even some who profess to have strong faith, can live such pinched lives, no one wants to be around them, much less be like them. It is as though the worst things will befall us if we step one inch out of line. God doesn’t want us to live in that cringing way.
The Holy Spirit was not given to us to hem us in, but to point us to new horizons.
My friend, Martin Copenhaver, who preached at my installation, brings with him this sense of joyous and overflowing abundance wherever he is. Oh, he has his weaknesses, and I know all of them well as his friend of more than thirty years. But this is surely his gift. Wherever Martin goes you get the sense about him that a party could break out any second. Which is probably the least talked about quality of Jesus the Christ, so much in evidence in the miracle at Cana of Galilee.
At Martin’s 50th birthday, he invited a circle of clergy to be with him. Of course, the point was to celebrate his days, for us to lavish gifts and attention upon him. He cooked this delectable gourmet meal for all of us. He is a tremendous cook. Yes, there was wine, maybe not 180 gallons, but more than enough lovely wine. He gave each of us a set of CDs he had made and labeled, overflowing with lovely music. He gave each of us a DVD of a favorite movie of his for us to enjoy. I must tell you, I cannot for the life of me remember what gift I gave him. As his wife, Karen, tearfully told him how deeply he had enriched her life and days, that moment had a certain cup runneth over quality, this is how life is supposed to be.
Later that night, when Martin was gone, I spoke with Sam Lloyd, who has since become rector at the National Cathedral in Washington. How does he do it? Sam asked me. How does Martin do such tough work so well as a pastor, and radiate such enjoyment? Sam’s wife, he told me, is always elbowing him in the ribs say-ing, “How come we are not so relaxed and having that much fun?” Martin and his church now enter a last push toward raising $11 million in their capital campaign. Of course, our spiritual abundance only engenders more and greater abundance.
I get blessed like this all the time and not just by remarkably gifted pastor friends. I drag myself to the hospital to see someone. My head buzzes with too many tasks, wondering how I can bring hope, encouragement, and cheer to someone. As I make my stop—more than once this has happened—you minister to me. In the face the setbacks of the infirmities of the flesh, I witness your trust in God’s great reservoirs of healing and hope. And you give me what I came to offer. God is there for you, wanting to give you even more faith than you have, more love, stamina, and energy for the demands of discipleship. You receive it and share it.
Of course, living out of a place of scarcity is very different. We are always careful and prudent, cautious and restrained. We don’t make any big moves in life. We don’t attempt anything great. We don’t ask big things of God. We keep our faith to ourselves, safely tucked away deep within or protected within the church walls.
“God would never hear my prayer,” we say. “There are too many people and far more important needs than mine.” That is the prayer of scarcity. “We could never attempt anything like that,” we plead. “Be reasonable, now,” we shake our head. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Nothing like risk or sacrifice, nothing like glory.
Life faith itself, tapping and radiating divine abundance is not so much a human achievement as a divine gift. Some people are just gifted like this. The key in the church is putting those people at the front. Letting their light illumine the nights of darkness. Letting their abundance become a delicious contagion for good, like a batch of sourdough bread begetting new loaves. Now I’m making myself hungry.
And to think it all began with Jesus stepping into the breach when the wine gave out at a wedding reception. He commanded the caterers to fill to the brim earthen jars of thirty gallons each with water. When they did, the water turned to wine, plenteous wine, more than any party could need. This, at Cana of Galilee, was the first of Jesus’ signs. Jesus manifested his glory; the disciples believed in him.
And to think it all began with Jesus standing at a table. Through simple emblems of bread and cup, Jesus showed them a sign of how he would totally and com-pletely give himself, knowing he would get absolutely nothing in return from us. Talk about abundance. That’s the source of the abundant life that we share here. And here it is shared abundantly, whether we are taking care of our own who are hurting, or blazing new horizons by letting God convey our ministry to new levels.
God has promised us such abundance to assure us that wherever God leads us, God will give us everything we need to become faithful and resourceful disciples. Could you imagine anything better or bigger than the abundance of that promise? I don’t think so. Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Amen.
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. For this is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.
I am not the only one with this approach. In fact, most everyone, many of whom have no religious faith, subscribe to these terms. After all, how often do you hear others describe themselves as a glass-half-empty or a glass-half-full type person. Practically every day we hear it. And it’s a bit of a cliché, yes, glass half empty, glass half full. But we resort to it because it works and because this is important.