In John’s gospel, we read of Jesus’ first miracle.  Unlike some of Jesus’ other miracles, in this one, no one is healed.  No one is fed. There is no stunning miraculous moment.   Here, all he does is turn a few gallons of water into great wine to keep the party going. Of all the ways to begin a gospel, of all the miracles that Jesus could have performed, why did he do this one first in the Gospel of John?

A key to interpretation may be the odd interchange between Jesus and his mother.  Mary comes to Jesus, imploring him to help the host in this dismaying social situation, but Jesus brushes her off with, ‘Woman, my hour has not yet come.’

Now that’s an expression throughout John’s Gospel.  Jesus says the hour, his hour, is coming.  It is the hour of Jesus’ death, that time when, lifted up upon the cross, all his power shall be unleashed upon the world.  In that hour, everything will be made manifest.   Yet now, right here at the beginning of John’s Gospel, at the beginning of this new year, the veil is momentarily lifted.  Jesus not only supplies wine, he is the new wine.

It was a miracle.  The people in Cana had gathered for just another wedding, in the middle of all the ordinary mediocrity of everyday life.  What is more ordinary than water?  Yet, what is more essential for life?  Here, amid the water, at the wedding, at a typical party, new life breaks in.  Jesus, standing among them, is the new life, the living water that only God can give. 

Where, in your ordinary life is Jesus …. new life breaking in?

by Deacon Paul Jensen