Rural Ministry: Mud

I've talked before on here about how we're beyond rural ministry; we're doing frontier ministry.  I'm serious when I say this, since life in ministry here is a bit different than my friends who are doing internship at urban, suburban or even small-town parishes.  I was hit with it this morning when I received a message from my supervisor saying that the service at the Episcopal congregation that we work with has been cancelled.  Why would you cancel a worship service in January, you ask?

Not snow.

Not ice.

Not rain.

Wait for it....mud.  Yep, mud.  It's too muddy to get the cars in and out of the driveway.  Around here, folks call the mud "gumbo."  One of our recent retreat guests found it distressing that we would call mud gumbo, since gumbo is good and tasty.  I don't think you should think too much about the exact dimensions of gumbo compared to the red, rocky mud that fills our parking lots and driveways here.  Instead, think about trying to walk or drive in gumbo.  You'd probably lose a shoe, much like my supervisor almost did yesterday in someone's driveway.  The mud is just that thick, folks.

Since I love to preach and a cancellation due to mud means no preaching this morning, I'd like to share my sermon.  In some ways, I don't believe that it's a full sermon, since sermons are partly, if not mostly, in the delivery.  Regardless, here was the sermon scheduled for today:

John 2:1-11: St. John’s Episcopal, Cohen Home

January 20, 2013

This is a fascinating story.  We hear about lots of miracles in Jesus’ time: healing, exorcisms, feeding large crowds, and so forth.  But, here in John’s gospel, these aren’t “miracles.”  They are signs.  Signs of who Jesus is and what Jesus is capable of.  These signs show us, thus eliminating doubt in the awesomeness of Christ’s life and teachings.  I should also add that this particular sign, the one of turning water into wine, is only shared in the Gospel of John.  And this is the first of his many signs. 

Jesus is a guest at this wedding, not the host, and his mother, who is never actually named in the Gospel of John, comes to tell him that the party is out of wine!  What exactly did she expect Jesus to do?  This is the first of many signs, so how does she know what he’s capable of?  He responds, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me?  My hour has not yet come.” 

Woman, my hour has not yet come.

Jesus doesn’t respond to his mother with the whiney tone of a teenaged boy, telling her that he’s not ready for dinner or to do his homework.  He’s not playing a video game or basketball.  In the story we hear, Jesus is not doing anything else that could prevent him from fixing this wine issue that his mother is concerned about.  Instead, he tells her that it’s not the time. 

Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.”  And then, when the waiters served the beverage out of the jugs, it was wine.  And not any old wine, but good wine.  Tasty wine.  The type of wine that you’d save for the finest of guests.  This wine wasn’t saved though.  It was created out of water.  The simplest of drinks, the liquid which nourishes our thirsty bodies after a hard day’s work, was transformed into the festive drink with layers of scent and flavor.  Jesus’ time has not come, but he has put into place the first of many signs showing the way that even the simplest of substances can be transformed into something extraordinary.

And this, my friends, is still not the hour that Jesus is referencing.  Yes, the time had come to transform the water into wine, but the bigger transformation was yet to come.  The hour was not at hand.  The hour of the ultimate transformation was not until much later in Jesus’ teaching and ministry.  The hour was after the wine, after the crowds, after raising Lazarus from the dead, after being crucified for all to witness his death.  The hour was when Jesus rose from the dead and showed us the greatest sign of transformation: triumph over death. 

Woman, my hour has not yet come. 

The mother of Jesus must wait during this wedding feast at Cana and throughout Jesus’s life for the right time.  She comes back at HIS hour, the hour that Christ has prophesied about in this sign of converting the water into wine, and she finds herself at the foot of the cross, witnessing the transformation of her precious baby boy into the Savior of the world.

Woman, here is your son. 

When Jesus addresses his mother later in the Crucifixion story, Jesus also addresses each one of us: Here is your mother.  Here is the mother of our Lord and Savior.  Here is the young woman, scared about birthing God’s child into the world, transformed to being the mother of the one who performs signs.  Here is the mother of the one who is to turn the world upside down and inside out, changing us out of water and into wine.

The transformation from water into wine, death into life, bad into good, is the essence of Jesus Christ.  We are empty vessels, capable of being filled and transformed, sanctified and brought into a newness of life.  We sit, waiting, hoping, looking forward to the next step, just like the mother of Jesus sat and tried to encourage him.

And, sometimes in waiting for this transformation, I get a little bit antsy, just like her.  I ask myself, “When???” or “Why?” or “How?”  I want to know how it’s all going to play out.

Lots of people have introduced themselves to me in my time here and have said, “I’ve been

sober for 23 years” or 10 years or 5 years or 27 days, and often, that declaration of sobriety has come with a strong conviction of faith in God, faith in Jesus Christ, faith in the way that God can transform us, even when we have deemed ourselves unworthy and incapable of being reformed. 

The mother of Jesus was worried that the party would run out of wine, yes, but she was likely more concerned that Jesus was missing an opportunity to make a difference.  Like any good mother, she had high hopes for her baby boy.  As we know, this conversion was the first of many signs, of many good signs, showing the power of transformation.

There were six stone water jars, each holding twenty to thirty gallons of water for purification.  Anywhere from 120 to 180 gallons of water turned into wine, without so much as a magic trick or a hand blessing.  Jesus simply said to fill the jugs with water.  Then, when the “water” was served, it was wine. 

Jesus tells us how to fill ourselves with water, with what appears to be a simple act: Love one another as I have loved you.  For with you, O God, is the fountain of life; in your light, we see light.  God has created us as the clay jugs, preparing to be filled by the simple gifts of life and transformed into divine creatures.

How are you being filled by God?  How are you being transformed?  No, really, ask yourself these questions.

There is no shortage of good wine with Jesus.  120-180 gallons of water into wine?  That’s an awful lot of wine.  And frankly, I believe that had there been 12 jugs, Jesus would have filled those.  18?  Not a problem.  120?  Done.  See, there is not shortage of wine, but really, there is not shortage of the power of transformation through life with Christ.  God is abundance.  Even when we think that we are incapable of being changed, unworthy of being transformed, God meets us in those moments of emptiness, fills us with the power of a God who loves us so much that he gave his life for us, and we then are the good wine.  God’s love is abundant, overflowing for all to experience the sweet taste and smell of, while basking in the glory of the community gathered around to celebrate this miraculous transformation.  How precious is your steadfast love, O God!   Amen.