The Parish Church of St John-at-Hampstead

17th January 2016 Parish Eucharist The Wedding at Cana Andrew Penny

John 2:1-11

St John’s Gospel doesn’t just tell different stories from the other Gospels, how those stories are told is different too.  There are no parables in John’s Gospel, but the miracles are much more fully described and become stories in themselves with a meaning that goes beyond the simple facts. John does not call them “miracles” but Signs by which Jesus makes himself known, but despite being signs they are not always very clear, and in most cases the bystanders do not understand the significance of what they have witnessed. There is a sort of secrecy, or hidden knowledge; people do not understand and Jesus’ explanations often to seem to make things worse. I think we have to accept that John did not intend the meaning to be obvious. We are meant to search and reflect on what we read, allowing the hints and the connections to take us down paths to our own understanding.
A striking difference between the other Gospels and John’s is the absence of any account of the breaking of bread and sharing of wine in the Last Supper; instead John tells us about Jesus washing his disciples’ feet. There are several reasons put forward for this omission; the simplest is that John did not want to reveal too open a way the rituals of the young church. John certainly knew about what we call Holy Communion, as there is a long series of passages after the feeding of the five thousand in which Jesus explains, to the horror of some of his listeners, that the bread they had been eating was his body- clearly a reference to communion as instituted at the Last Supper. It’s possible too that other miracle stories may be intended as elaborate references to other sacraments. I want to suggest that the turning of the water into wine at the Cana in Galilee may be a sort of allegory or explanation for the sharing the cup of wine at communion, or at least that there are elements in the story which may help us to understand what we are doing when we take our sip of fortified wine at the altar rail.
If we want to see what John may be telling us about the Eucharist in this miracle, we need first to look briefly at what the other Gospel writers and St Paul say about it. In the other versions the context for the breaking of bread and sharing of wine is clearly a Passover meal, at which the escape from Egypt and salvation of the Israelite nation was remembered and partially re-enacted. Salvation and re-enactment or remembrance are equally prominent elements in our Eucharist, but with a twist that the cup of wine also symbolises or, even  is the blood of Jesus’ sacrifice; the salvation offered is a personal forgiveness of sins (although available to all), which happens alongside the more corporate breaking of bread which make us one body with Jesus. This wine/blood of forgiveness replaces the need for animal sacrifice as it reminds us of Jesus’ own sacrifice on the cross, and some would say more than just reminds, but re-enacts that sacrifice for us. Finally, the breaking of bread and sharing of the cup were Jesus revelation of himself; it was, you remember, how the two disciples recognised him at Emmaus, and how we too can recognise his presence.
So can we find any of these themes of remembrance and re-enactment, salvation and sacrifice, and revelation in the story of the wedding feast at Cana in Galilee? My first, superficial response is to contrast the abundance of wine at Cana, with tiny sip we take from the chalice (and the largest group of Christians do not even get that) No apparent correspondence there! I wrote this before seeing the huge Celtic and Coptic chalices in the British Museum exhibitions; communion has clearly been more generous at other times and places.
But looking a bit more closely some connections do emerge; first, as I have said this miracle is called a sign- something by which Jesus shows himself and his nature. That is exactly one of the things we see in the sharing of communion; we somehow feel God’s presence in sharing bread and wine.
The signs are not, however, only of  who Jesus is but also his nature and what he does, most obviously in healing, feeding, enlightening and finally (with Lazarus) restoring life itself. Compared to these, turning water into wine is a little odd, and perhaps a strange choice as the first sign/miracle. Running out of wine at a party is embarrassing but not on the same scale as being crippled or blind or terminally ill-or dead. Is the lack of wine symbolic of a spiritual illness brought about by, or at least not helped by, the spiritual emptiness of merely ritual religion?   The use of the huge water jars intended for ritual washing certainly suggest that Jesus is twisting ritual, re-interpreting it and in fact replacing it. The flowing wine is what will provide purity now as some talk, rather ghoulishly, I think, of being washed in Jesus’ blood. There is no mention of blood, or sacrifice at Cana but there is a strong sense of renewal and replacement.
The miracle happens at wedding, reminding us of Jesus’ use of wedding imagery and of himself as the bridegroom; one suspects the festivities at Cana were slightly muted. The steward’s surprised remarks about keeping the good wine until last may carry some irony; Jesus’ presence and the gallons of vintage wine it brought must have livened things up considerably. I’m afraid I often think services of Holy Communion are rather drab and I try to remember that the Eucharist is a thanksgiving. The sip of wine will not itself make us jolly, but the presence of Jesus among us should be a tonic to which we respond with gratitude and joy, as Jesus’ sensitivity to the situation at Cana livened up that party, with its implied promise of new life.
The last connection I see is the most elusive; my own feeling, a prejudice perhaps, is that we have a tendency to overemphasise the mystical aspects of communion, but there is certainly something mysterious about the miracle at Cana. I don’t mean the magic of turning water into wine, but Jesus’ curious initial reticence, and the fact that we are told that only the servants were in on the secret. Possibly the point is that the guests- the beneficiaries of the miracle-  were not yet ready for full revelation which comes gradually (and how appropriate that it starts with humblest members of society!) That may itself tell us something about communion; that we shouldn’t expect a sudden and complete revelation, but should approach the mystery with humility, willing to respect the meanings others may see in it.
 And you may, justifiably think that I have avoided the most glaring similarity between the miracle at Cana and Holy Communion, that is the transformation of water to wine and wine to blood. I admit I have avoided this because I do not understand it and because Communion is so rich in other ideas which I can grasp. As I said, John leaves things mysterious, and we must choose what clarity we can, accepting that others may see things differently. I hope what connections I have drawn may help us to approach the altar with the same surprise and  gratitude expressed by the Steward, and to return to our pews not quite tipsy but inspired by joy. Amen.