A Lifelong Journey of Seeing Christ
Transcription
Well, good morning and happy snow day. Supposedly. Rain day, shall we say. Maybe snow day. I just got back from Western Pennsylvania where it was snowing every day except for yesterday. I'm Chip Webb and I'm a member of Corpus Christi who serves the senior warden. And before I begin, let us pray.
“O Lord, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all your people's hearts be acceptable in your sight. O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.”
Well, today is the second Sunday in a special season of the church's life. What season is it? Epiphany. Happy Epiphany, everyone. Now, Epiphany gets less attention than a lot of other seasons of the church's year like Advent and Lent. Yet Epiphany is still very important. And I'd like our youth and younger ones to help us all out with some matters.
Now, adults, you're not allowed to give them any clues. First, what story do we most remember during Epiphany? We Three Kings. There we go.
The coming of the Magi to pay homage to Jesus. And we talked about that in youth group last week a little, didn't we? Okay, a little bit of a tougher question. What sense of our five senses do we perhaps most associate with Epiphany?
Yes. Sight. Sight, yes.
Our eyes, right? Can anyone explain that a little bit more in the sense of how did sight apply to the Magi we just talked about? Yes. Okay. They saw a star and they followed it, right? We Three Kings following yonder star.
And what happened when they got there to their destination with sight? Yes. Okay, they gave their gifts, good. And what did they see? Jesus.
[Child voice: Baby Jesus]
Now, maybe, maybe not. Because King Herod was seeking kids two years old and under, he might have been a bit older. He might have been up to two years. We don't know for certain. Okay, one more semi-difficult question. This is a harder one.
What characteristic of God do we particularly associate with Epiphany? I'll give you a hint, it's five letters. Sorry, what did you say? Glory. Yes, good, Cole.
Good, good, good. It's His glory. Epiphany is associated with seeing God's glory. Well, thank you, youth and younger. Now, I'd like to throw out a question to everyone, including youth, younger ones, and adults. What does it mean when we say that we have had an Epiphany? Yes.
New idea, new understanding, Spike? A realization, yes. New idea, new understanding, realization, and insight can be any of those. Something that gives us a new way of looking at things, and that potentially changes our lives, right? And today our Gospel passage invites us to consider a story that might be well known to many of us, but that might be a bit of a mystery to us.
The Wedding at Cana. The story seems straightforward enough, right? Jesus attends a wedding at Cana and turns water into wine. Simple.
It seems pretty straightforward in terms of the events it recites, and as a miracle, it doesn't seem particularly flashy or even important. Like, it's not as important as, say, giving sight to the eyes of a blind man, right? So if you're like me, you've often wondered why exactly this is in the Gospel of John, and why this is a sign like the Apostle says it is, as we heard when Father Morgan read the Scripture. Does anyone else ever wonder these things? Okay.
On top of this, the Church has long associated this Gospel passage with the season of Epiphany. In her book, Epiphany, the Season of Glory, Anglican author Fleming Rutledge points out that the Church connected it with this season, “from the earliest centuries”. Fascinating, right? So as it turns out, this story has a lot more to it than is evident at first glance.
There are quite a few implications for us as Christians journeying through the season of Epiphany, and a good argument can be made that there are almost bottomless depths to it. It has a lot to say to us about seeing over the course of our Christian lives, and how that seeing can uncommonly transform us. And so let's examine in detail some of the implications of this story for us as individual disciples, and then briefly consider the implications for us as part of the one holy Catholic and Apostolic Church.
Let's begin by looking at the individual disciples mentioned in verses 2 and 11, and the context of the wedding. Were the disciples his twelve apostles, or were they a larger group? The text does not specify, but from the context of John, and reading back in John chapter 1, we are probably only talking about Andrew, Peter, Philip, and Nathaniel. The gospel presents them as the first disciples to follow Jesus.
Biblical scholar Ben Witherington notes in his commentary on this chapter that at this time, judging from various references in chapters 1 through 3 of the gospel, Jesus probably was still living with his family and making journeys to visit John the Baptist at the Jordan, but he most likely had not yet launched out on his own in ministry. If that is indeed the case, he probably just had this small group of four disciples at the time of the wedding. And when are we told that the wedding took place in verse 1? Anyone remember? Spike? On the third day.
Now, back to youth and our younger kids again. Can you think of any special significance that we as Christians place on the third day? Yes? He rose from the dead. You get the prize.
Yes, the third day is the day of Jesus's resurrection, and in his book, the fourth gospel, Roman Catholic scholar Louis Boyer argues that, “…It is hard not to see in the detail of the third day a reminder of the resurrection, particularly in the early church where this expression could not fail to call up that idea.” Now, that doesn't mean that the resurrection is being specifically referenced. John, after all, is chronicling an event that took place before the resurrection. Nevertheless, John's use of the phrase the third day would have caused an echo of the resurrection to ring in his first century reader's ears. Now, hold on to that idea and we'll come back to it in a bit. At the wedding, one or more of the disciples, because we have the account here, must have noticed Mary, Jesus's mother, approach her son.
So let's try to put ourselves hypothetically in the place of a disciple observing this interchange in the events that follow. They have no wine, she says in verse 4. Now, wedding feasts at the time lasted several days, so you know living in the first century that running out of wine during weddings is not uncommon, nor is it unexpected. Various reasons have been proposed for why the wine ran out in this case, one of them being that Jesus and his disciples were last-minute additions to the wedding guest list, so there was not enough for everyone.
Another one is that Jesus and his disciples had not, due to their poverty, brought the fair share of wine expected of all wedding guests during that age. Now, maybe one of those reasons is correct or maybe not. Scholars don't know, the texts don't tell us.
But what we, putting ourselves back in the shoes of a disciple at that time, next see and hear as recorded in verse 5 is that Jesus responds as if this statement, they have no wine, were a request made of him. And he says, woman, what does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come. Now to our 21st century ears, the word woman seems surprisingly generic and perhaps even dismissive, but to our disciple that would not be the case.
The word had no such negative associations with it. While it wasn't necessarily an affectionate term, it wasn't a harsh one either. For that reason, some Bible translations use phrases such as dear woman instead of just woman.
Nevertheless, as a 1st century disciple, we would find it unusual for a son to use it with his mother, and Jesus uses it again with Mary during her one other appearance in the gospel at the foot of the cross when Jesus says, woman, behold your son in chapter 19. That's an interesting point in and of itself, that the appearances of Mary bracket the gospel, but that's something we really don't have time to consider today. But there's a mystery there about Jesus using the word woman, and Christians with different understandings of Jesus and Mary over the centuries have come to varying conclusions about it.
But there is general agreement among scholars that Jesus is working to distance himself from Mary, not as a son rebelling against his mother, or as a son trying to evade his family responsibilities and ties, but in the sense of separating his mission from the demands of other people, including, but not limited to, his own mother. Who does Jesus listen to and obey, according to other passages throughout John's gospel? Anyone? Yes? The Holy Spirit? Okay, but more specifically, another. Yes? God.
God the Father. My Father is always working, etc., etc., etc. So the hour has not yet come for him to fully start his ministry, some scholars say. Others believe that the hour that Jesus mentions is the hour of his suffering and glorification, that's a nice epiphany word, on the cross. Since Jesus uses the word hour in that sense in chapter 12. But whether Jesus is speaking of the beginning or the end of his earthly ministry, he is speaking of his mission.
Now regardless of Jesus's intent about the hour, our no-doubt perplexed disciple observing this event next hears the Jesus's mother say, do whatever he tells you to servants responsible for making the wedding run smoothly. And then, perhaps to his astonishment, either immediately or a while later, he sees Jesus address them, telling them to fill six stone purification jars with water. As a first century Jew, you know that the purification jars are used for rituals to be used in following the law, including the washing of hands to keep yourself from being unclean.
And the servants do fill the purification jars, perhaps a little too eagerly from our disciples point of view, for they fill them to the brim, that is to the point where they're almost spilling over. And you hear Jesus then tell them to take some of the water to the master of the feast, who is essentially the chief steward supervising the other stewards. And either with your own eyes and ears, or from talking to the servants later, you find out that the master has commended the bridegroom, who is ultimately responsible for much of the details of the wedding, for bringing out the best wine toward the end of the wedding.
Wait a minute, you saw Jesus tell the servants to fill the jar with water, but now the chief steward said there was wine, and not only was there wine, but wine of the highest quality. Your mind is blown, and as a result, you and the other disciples who have either seen these events as well, or who hear about them from you in all your astonishment, “believe in him.” Verse 11, believe in Jesus.
It's not, importantly enough, that you haven't believed in him already, since you believed in him enough to follow him and come to this wedding. But whatever believing in Jesus in verse 11 means, you are coming to a deeper belief, and whether you realize it at this point, or you come to realize it in retrospect, you are seeing Jesus display his glory. Wow, I don't know about you, but my mind is blown.
Just putting myself in that perspective. So let's unpack this a little more for us as 21st century disciples of Jesus, in terms of what this means for us as individuals. First, if we are Christians, then we are followers of Christ, right? And unlike our first century disciple, we live after the time of Jesus' incarnation, after his birth, which we celebrate in the Christmas season, after his life, including the three-year ministry that was just beginning at the time of the wedding in Cana, and after his death on the cross, which was his supreme glorification when he was lifted up, and to paraphrase our Book of Common Prayer, stretched out his arms on the hard wood of the cross so that all peoples could look to him and be saved.
We are some of the ones of whom John wrote, blessed are those who have not seen and yet believed, in chapter 20 of this Gospel. And yet for all of our differences with first century followers of Jesus, I'd like to suggest that there are at least three similarities we share with them. Number one, Jesus is mysterious. We are not watching the events of the wedding of Cana, but how Jesus acts is, if we're honest, no less perplexing for us at times than it would have been for one of his first century disciples or apostles. We are not always sure of how to take his words in Scripture, and other Christians throughout the century, and scholars as well, have not always been certain either. No one can fully define or comprehend the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist.
And when it comes to following Jesus, we don't always understand how Jesus leads us, or even if he has led us to a particular place. Sometimes the words of the late singer- songwriter Rich Mullins in the song Hard to Get fit our lives very well. “I can't see how you're leading me unless you've led me here, to where I'm lost enough to let myself be led.” Jesus's incomprehensibility is a normal part of the Christian life. To put it in epiphany type language, it's hard to see Jesus some of the time, isn't it? That's part of why we need the Church. The Church ties us to our brothers and sisters in Christ who have lived throughout prior ages, who live during this current time as in this room, and who will live in the future.
We most interact, those of us who come to Corpus Christi regularly, with those we know at Corpus Christi most likely, or maybe people at our jobs as well, if we had no Christians there. But the wisdom of those who have gone before us have been left to us in the scriptures, in the Church's tradition, and in their writings. So we can better adapt to the mysterious ways of Jesus.
And that mystery extends, of course, to the other members of the Holy Trinity, God the Father and God the Holy Spirit, by interacting with other Christians. Remember, too, that those who have passed on as Christians are alive. They are not dead. A thin veil separates them from us, even though we do not see them. See again. So Jesus is mysterious.
Number two, another similarity. Believing in Jesus is a process, not a one-time event marked by many stages. As much as some of our Christian traditions like to emphasize a moment-in-time conversion, as Father Morgan has said many times, we have regular, even daily conversions.
Just as Andrew, Peter, Philip, and Nathaniel had believed in a certain sense before coming to Cana, then believed in a greater sense due to Jesus's miracle at Cana, and would come to believe even more over time, so it is with us. Uncommon transformation is not a one-and-done process. Discipleship does not involve standing at one fixed point in our spiritual lives.
Becoming Christ-like is not something at which we arrive. This last week I attended a class at Trinity Anglican Seminary on employing the wisdom of the Church Fathers in Christian education. One of the things the instructors said that stood out to me is that when we leave this life and are with Christ, we undoubtedly still will be growing in Christ-likeness.
Now I know that idea is controversial, it runs contrary to many Christians' beliefs, but at least for the moment hypothetically entertain that idea. What does it mean for you? For me? If we adopt the perspective that growing and becoming like Jesus is a never-ending process, not only in this life, but in the life to come. What implications might that have for us now? Are there some things with which we struggle that we want to continue to resist, but maybe we can give ourselves more grace when we fail? Does such a longer period of time for growth show us that the love of God for us stretches out longer and further than we might imagine? The fact that believing in Jesus is a process might just be an incredible benefit for us.
So, Jesus is mysterious, believing in Jesus is a process, and number three, as the season of Epiphany reminds us, we will have catapults in our life, epiphanies, that God gives us by his grace. While Jesus is often mysterious, and while believing in Jesus in some senses is a never-ending event, God nevertheless will give us events when, like the first disciples, we learn to see Jesus better, and that provides great boons in our Christian life. Speaking personally, after I committed to following Jesus as Lord when I was 18, while I didn't always consciously formulate it this way, I pretty much thought that being a Christian essentially meant being a good American.
If I just basically got things together, gave up my interest in science fiction, fantasy, Dungeons & Dragons, and rock music, and if I was a thousand times less self-focused and more inclined to help others, particularly my parents, plus I acted as a good citizen, I would be hitting close to the mark of what Jesus wanted from me. That was what I had picked up over the years that following Jesus meant. Boy, was I wrong.
It's not that some of those things weren't good, although in retrospect I probably wouldn't have destroyed my rock albums, but following Jesus proved to be so much more of a matter of a greatly needed heart transplant than making those external adjustments that I was way off the mark in my expectations. When God gave me epiphanies, or as I call them, catapults in my Christian life, they dealt with far more serious issues and happened over time. For example, reparenting so that I truly saw God my Father.
Later, truly experiencing God's love and understanding to a much greater degree his love for everyone, and also pursuing a sense of calling. And regarding seeing Jesus's glory, as many of you know, the biggest event that I can share regards how God preserved both my life and my faith amidst six health crises over a two and a half month period in 2021. It was through that time that I really came to know Jesus as strong in a way I had never known previously, and that has changed my life.
Those are some of my catapults in brief, and I'm happy to share more details personally or in other settings, but what is your story? Each one of us undoubtedly has had or will have unique epiphanies. For some, these realizations and insights will be noticeable and perhaps sometimes even dramatic. For others, they will happen, but it might be hard or take a long time to recognize them as having occurred, because their impact upon us might be real but imperceptible. But take heart. Regardless of whether they are easily identifiable or not, those epiphanies result in figurative resurrections in our hearts that enable us to become more like Jesus. Well, those three items are for us as individuals, and they are enough to show us how we undergo a lifelong process of learning to see Jesus.
Very briefly, I'll just mention that for the church corporately, the wedding at Cana shows how Jesus is superior to the Jewish law, and it also provides something of a picture of the marriage of Christ and the church. Our Old Testament reading from Isaiah 62 also spoke to that. Fleming Rutledge additionally points out that the 1928 Book of Common Prayer marriage liturgy specifically recognizes Jesus's blessing of the wedding at Cana as a reason for the church's blessing of marriage.
Now, those points that I just mentioned could take up an additional sermon, but for both individual Christians and the church corporate, there is an end, a telos, to which we are moving, and of which the season of epiphany gives us a partial picture. Does anyone know what it is? It's what Christians traditionally call the beatific vision, seeing God, seeing Jesus face to face. Our journeys in this life of wrestling with the mystery of Jesus, undergoing the process of believing in Jesus, and experiencing epiphanies that help us to see Jesus substantially better, really just contribute to the larger journey of coming to see God and Jesus face to face.
And to close, I'd like to quote part of a song called Arrive by the band MyEpic. I call the band members Baptists in love with the beatific vision, which is an unusual combination. As much as possible, quiet your thoughts and place yourself in the lyric, reflecting on the future reality of reaching your life's goal using the metaphor of a ship journey.
Listen for the epiphany applications related to sight and glory in these lyrics. Experience the momentum of this journey as described in God's love for you. Let's take a moment just to pause before I start to read this.
“Any day now, I will leave the seas behind, and I, I will find you. I don't know yet what I'll see when I arrive, but I, I will be with you. All my hopes rest on the day when I see these tides align, realign. I'll keep my eyes on the horizon and my course set until then. When your new dawn outshines the old one, I'll be looking up, looking up, I'll be looking up, looking up. I'll leave my ship then and run the waves as they're rising up, rising up, I'll be rising up, rising up. And behold, you who know I could yet bear, nor any mind yet conceive, and I'll take hold of you there, and then let go of belief. Somehow, made new, I'll be like you. A song begins without an end. Beloved, behold forever.” Let me slowly repeat those last lines again and think of Jesus as saying the last three words to you with all of his glorious heart. A song begins without an end.
“Beloved, behold forever.” In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, amen.
Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Edited by the Vicar.