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You Can’t Get Something from Nothing—or Can You?

Epiphany 2A  01/17/10

John 2:1-11

Grace and peace be to you from God our Father and from the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

The recent movie Julie and Julia has rekindled interest in Julia Child’s 1960s show, The French Chef. So PBS has  been running the series again. You know what? Cooking shows certainly have evolved, haven’t they? I mean, look at Julia’s program, with it’s homey style and humble, unscripted commentary. And then compare it to a show like Top Chef, with judges’ brutal criticism of food prepared under ridiculous conditions. (Such as “prepare a meal for four hundred using only this frying pan and wooden spoon.”) Or compare Julia’s self-deprecating wit with the bravado of the super heroes from Iron Chef America, which is essentially the Grand Prix of the modern day cooking show genre.

Julia’s show featured elaborate gourmet dishes, containing a slew of rich and exotic ingredients, involving precise culinary techniques, which produced what could only be termed a grand and glorious feast. (Kind of like a snack at Bill and Kay’s house!) Most of today’s cooking shows cater to the on-the-go generation—quick meals, but with healthy ingredients. You got your Rachel Ray, Bobbie Flay, Emeril Lagasse, Alton Brown and etc. Exception being Paula Deen, whose every recipe begins with “take a pound of butter…”

And then you have your “postmodern” cooking shows. Reality food shows. Shows  that are so bizarre, you’d never even think of replicating one of chefs’ creations, let alone eat at their restaurants. There is one show that is what I would call the epitome of this genre. It’s called Chopped!. And what makes this show particularly heinous television is not only the “reality” element, in which hard-working chefs are eliminated, or “chopped,” all to the accompaniment of rude little comments made by a crabby panel of judges. It is the “twist” that they must create Julia-caliber food using surprise ingredients. Bizarre groups of oft times obscure foods that really don’t go together. Like pumpkins, veal, and oregano. Or squid, decorative kale, and Frosted Flakes. You get the picture. The idea is this: “Okay, you’ve got peanut butter, beef tongue, pomegranates and 30 minutes to make a five course masterpiece—GO!” You can just imagine the wonders these chefs whip up under those conditions.

I’ll tell you something—Jesus would not get chopped. Here’s the scenario: Jesus has just called his first disciples, and he and the whole crew are invited to a wedding in Cana of Galilee. Probably because Jesus’ mother is up there on the guest list. Possibly a relative. Anyway, these shindigs lasted up to three days in those days, with beacoup de eating and wine drinking. Now, imagine how embarrassed the host would be if the wine ran out before its time—on the first day, no less.

This is the situation Mary sees developing as the bride and groom and all their guests whoop it up and make merry. As she is refilling her chardonnay, she gets only a few drops, and there’s no more wine to be found. (Maybe because they invited too many people at the last minute!) The servants are mortified, but Mary knows what to do. She gets on it right away. She calls Jesus over and tells him, “Alright—you’ve got six big empty stone jars, one hundred and eighty gallons of tepid water, and some servants—GO!”

Jesus says, “Put the water in the jars, then grab you a ladle full from one of them, and bring it to the chief steward for a taste.” Cue the dramatic elimination music and cut between Jesus, the steward and the servants. The steward performs the five s test—see, swirl, sip, swish, spit. Then he motions for the bridegroom. ‘This is the best wine I’ve ever tasted,” he exclaims. “Why did you hold onto it till now, when everyone is way beyond appreciating it?”

Jesus doesn’t get chopped. Instead he saves the day. But he never even gets credit for lubricating the rest of the celebration. The steward is clueless, the bridegroom is no doubt perplexed—seeing that he knew the good wine he bought ran out hours ago. The other guests don’t care—they’re all three sheets to the wind. Oh, of course his disciples notice the sign he has performed and it bolsters their nascent belief in him. The servants know—and Mary. Mary never doubted  Jesus’ ability to make something out of nothing.

Something out of nothing. It’s hard to do. For us it’s darn near impossible. Unless you’re talking about people’s propensity to make a whole lot, a real big stink, out of just about nothing. Like Jay Leno’s argument with NBC over the cancellation / rescheduling of his show. You know, I don’t wish unemployment on anyone—but I don’t think that Leno will have to sell his car collection if the show doesn’t take over the old Tonight Show time slot. Something out of nothing—the fact that we’re even talking about this kind of stuff illustrates my point.

That point being, as humans we can only make something out of nothing in a metaphorically negative sense. But Jesus can actually take nothing-ness and make it into something-ness. Right away in the prologue to John’s gospel we discover this. In words that hearken back to the Genesis creation story, the gospel writer acknowledges Jesus’ role in creation ex nihlo—from nothing.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.”

All things came into being through him From nothing. Everything. From aardvarks to zebras, from Algerians to Zambians, from argon to xenon (okay, that’s with a n “X” not a “Z”—but you get the idea). All things came into being through the Word. Including the wine at the wedding in Cana.

I know what you’re thinking. Jesus didn’t create the wine from nothing. He made it from water. I ask you, is that any less impressive? And besides, allow me point out the parallel between this “creation” story and the creation story in Genesis. Alright—Genesis: In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, and the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, and a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. [emphasis added by me for obvious reasons] Then God said let there be light. [again—emphasis mine—said: word, Word: Jesus] Water figures in with the creation of the universe, and it appears also in this little story that is presumably about a wedding in Cana, but is really about creation as well.

In Genesis, water symbolizes chaos.—from which the created order emerges. In this miracle story, it symbolizes the water of baptism, which, being attached to the Word of God, is the element from which the new creation in Christ emerges. Jesus didn’t need water in order to make wine. But it was a nice touch.

So what possible connection does all this have with your day to day life?  First and foremost, Jesus’ wedding miracle clearly illustrates for us that God isn’t hindered by our partial or even total lack of success when it comes to living up to God’s intentions for us. Luther said we come to the Lord’s table as beggars, with nothing to offer God in return for his gift of life.

And yet Jesus is able to take us, empty vessels that we are, and fill us to the overflowing with his grace, transforming us through the waters of baptism, making us into a people worthy—strike that—a people more than worthy of God’s love and forgiveness. Worthy of taking the Son of God in hand and making ourselves one with him in the Lord’s Supper. (Which by the way, is another example of Jesus’ prowess at creating from nothing)

Perhaps today’s most poignant example of Jesus making something out of nothing is the horrible disaster in Haiti. For it is in events such as that, in which the damage is so tremendous and the fatality and casualty counts so woefully high, it is in these such events that the devastation is so complete that it destroys our faith in God. Reduces our trust to rubble. Levels our expectations of charmed safety and exemption from misery. And perpetuates our doubting with aftershocks of hopeless fear.

Millions homeless, thousands dead or missing. No water, very little food, no sanitation. Reports of armed gangs looting and disrupting  humanitarian aid. If ever there were a situation which cried out physical as well as spiritual emptiness, this is it. These people need everything in order to be able to emerge from the destruction. They need even more support to grieve for those who died, and for what was lost.

Their jars are empty. You can’t get blood from a stone.

We learned at the blood drive yesterday, you can’t get blood from some Lutherans either! But blood is not what they need. They need you to fill their jars. With water, food, clothing, tents, rescue crews, protection, and all the other items you’d expect people need to survive. You can best do this by filling the jars with money—crass as it sounds. That’s what it takes for physical relief.

For spiritual needs we have faith that Jesus is actively present in this disaster, comforting, helping, consoling, and harnessing the power of the Holy Spirit to gather God’s people together in a creation style resurrection experience. The situation is there—it can’t be ignored. So let us now do whatever Jesus tells us to do. So that, by filling the jars with our prayers, our advocacy and our compassion, Jesus might transform it into rich and flavorful healing. And then pour it out for the people of Haiti, sweet and fortifying. That they might be re-created and continue the feast along with Jesus and us.

To that I can only say: Bon appetite!

amen