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What was your most recent “ah-ha” moment, a time when the pieces suddenly fell into place, it all made sense, you saw the light?  Mine was when we were visiting our 3 year old granddaughter’s Montessori school room in Connecticut, and I had  an ah-ha moment about our Godly play room in the parish hall. It was a Montessori moment: I suddenly understood why our Godly Play room was furnished and designed as is: each story with its special place, organized in a way to help the kids learn the stories and how they relate to each other.
Ah-ha moments can be the discovery of almost anything: a proof in geometry, an insight about a person or ourselves, an understanding about something that has puzzled us.  An Ah-ha experience can come suddenly, as the term “ah-ha” suggests, but one can also have an Ah-Ha that emerges slowly over many years.
Both the Church feast day of Epiphany and season of Epiphany celebrate the incarnation, the revelation of God made Man in Jesus Christ. “Epiphany” is a fancier word for an ah-ha moment. The term “epiphany” comes from a Greek word meaning “appearance” or “manifestation”.  In contemporary English, an epiphany is an eye-opening realization or discovery that often creates in us a feeling of elation, or awe, or wonder.  So we could say an epiphany is a deeply felt ah-ha moment.
Well, today is already the second Sunday after Epiphany, and Epiphany is a short season, so its appropriate to ask,  “Have you had yours?”
Our gospel reading from John tells of a miracle that may trouble 21st century people.   We tend to deal with the healing miracles, and even the feeding of the 3000 and the 5000, by using our understanding of psychology and healing, and by broadening some definitions.  But turning 120 gallons of water into 600 bottles of good wine?  That is a tough one for me, a miracle that sounds a little like turning lead into gold.
So, why did the writer of the Gospel of John make this story the first miracle story in the gospel?  Why do we read this lesson on the second Sunday after Epiphany? What do we make of this miracle in our age of science, medicine and technology?
Lets listen to the story again:
Jesus and Mary were invited to a relative’s wedding, a major social event that lasted over a couple of days.  Four disciples, Andrew and Peter, Philip and Nathaniel went with them.  The wedding feast had been underway for quite some time when Mary learned that the host, the bridegroom, had underestimated how much wine would be consumed.  They were about to run out of wine long before the celebration was over.  Mary told Jesus, and Jesus responded, woman why is that our concern?  Mary, undeterred, told the servants to do what ever Jesus asked.
This shortage of wine, was of concern to Jesus.  He knew that the  bridegroom and his family, as well as the bride and her family, would suffer great humiliation if the wine ran out, and the marriage would get off to a terrible start.  Jesus told the servants to fill with water the six large stone jars used for ceremonial purification, and when the jars were filled, take some to the Chief Steward.  The servants filled to the brim the stone jars, each of which probably held 20 to 30 gallons, and took some to the Steward.
The Steward, not knowing what Jesus had said or done, tasted what the servants brought him, summoned the bridegroom,  and said: what kind of host are you?  You have saved the best wine until after the guests are too drunk to appreciate it.
John’s gospel is very carefully structured, with each part designed to serve a larger purpose.  We can hear in our lesson today some foreshadowing of the Eucharist, which for John was grounded in the feeding of the 5000 rather than in the Last Supper.  There is the wine, the celebratory feast with many in attendance, and the notion of abundance, so much good wine.
At the end of our reading, the gospel writer says:
“Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee,
and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.”
“Glory” is another word we use often in church, but in this passage, what does it mean?  In both the Old and New testaments “glory” might mean
abundance, wealth, and treasure that lead to honor, or,
the splendor, brightness and majesty we ascribe to God.
Either definition works in our reading, and in a sense, might be applied to an epiphany.
The Steward in our gospel reading did not see Jesus’ glory, and was oblivious to the miracle.  His concerns were practical:  the quality of the wine and the unusual social etiquette of the groom.  When I read in that last sentence “the disciples believed in him”, I instinctively think that the disciples believed the truth of some factual statement, such as, that Jesus literally turned 120 gallons of fresh water into real wine, or that Jesus was the son of God.  And then I think, could I believe those statements about Jesus?
But by thinking this way, I am oblivious; I miss the point.  This gospel story is not about believing facts about Jesus.
This passage was first translated from Greek into English about 475 years ago by William Tyndale. Tyndale was a skilled linguist who died burned at the stake for printing the Bible in English.  Translators make word choices, and Tyndale in his translation of the 2nd chapter of John chose to use the phrase “and his disciples believed on him.”  Tyndale’s phrase was used in the King James translation of 1611, and, in 1989, with one minor wording change, it was used in the New Revised Standard version which we read today.  So we are reading Tyndale’s 1535 word choices.
But over 450 years the word “believe” has changed meaning.  When Tyndale chose to use the word “believe”, “believe” did not mean to accept as true some factual proposition, as we understand it today; it did not mean “the disciples knew it was true that Jesus changed water into wine.”  Rather, for Tyndale in 1535, the object of belief was a person, and “to believe on” meant to love, to hold dear, to prize, to give one’s loyalty or commitment to.  For the disciples to believe on Jesus said something about the disciples’ relationship to Jesus, and said nothing about Jesus.  Thus, to believe in or on Jesus was  to commit or give one’s self to Jesus, or to say it another way, to call Jesus Lord.
When we say Jesus is our Lord, we are not making a factual statement about Jesus; we are saying we have given him our loyalty, our commitment; our love.
In our gospel reading, two of the four disciples at the wedding feast were with John the Baptist a few days earlier when John told the delegates sent by the Pharisees who Jesus was, and all four disciples had spent the day before this miracle with Jesus.  When these four disciples saw Jesus do a striking miracle of hospitality and abundance, something fell into place for them, something caused the disciples to have a great ah-ha, something like this: we feel God is somehow in this Jesus, and our response is to make him our Lord.  That was their epiphany, their discovery that created for them awe and wonder.
And that miracle for me?  Maybe it happened exactly as written; God could do something like that.  I know scientific knowledge is not the beginning and end of knowledge, and I believe there are deeper truths that science cannot teach.  I really don’t know what to say about this miracle.  But not knowing is OK.  Believing Jesus literally changed water into wine is not the point, and to get hung up on the scientific truth of the miracle is to miss the point.
This miracle, which triggered the disciples’ epiphany, their calling Jesus their Lord, may or may not spark an epiphany about Jesus for you or me.  But if we think we must believe something factual about Jesus, we will miss our epiphany.
Believing in Jesus is about how we respond to Jesus, about giving our ultimate loyalty to him.  And that epiphany may come as a bolt out of the blue, or, as in my life, something that has slowly grown within me over a very long period of time.  However it happens, it is the ultimate epiphany.
Amen.
Dale Ramerman
January 14, 2010, Epiphany 2, Year C

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People know that at its core, Christianity has something good to offer humanity. At the same time, many have a sense that they are alone in being a “thinking” Christian and that “salvaging” Christianity is a hopeless task. What is needed is an environment where people can ask the questions they’ve always wanted to but have been fearful of being thought a heretic.

Living the Questions is a series for both seekers and “church alumni” convinced that Christianity still has relevance in the 21st Century. Providing a variety of flexible resources, Living the Questions can help people explore the future of Christianity and what a meaningful faith can look like in today’s world.

Thursday and Sunday evenings – starting January 14th at 7 PM

Please enjoy this sample of the videos we will be viewing and discussing

and join our conversation!

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