Our Lord was the Lord of the highway and the lake. He was Lord in a joiner’s shop, and sitting with dusty feet on the edge of a well. He shared His life with common humanity.
Here, near the beginning of His ministry, He went to the wedding at Cana. But though His presence there shows Him up again as one who was interested in people, and one who took His place in the usual social activities of His day, do not think that His presence there meant only that.
We are mistaken if we pass over this account lightly, or as is often done, take it as proof only that the Lord blesses weddings and approves of the domestic virtues and the natural pleasures of hearth and home.
Jesus went to the wedding for a particular purpose. There is meaning in every incident. Or, to put it another way, it was a preliminary instalement of man’s salvation from his own poor self and sin.
How do we make this out of a simple story like this?
The dominating idea of the Jews was to make themselves acceptable to God. There were all sorts of rules and regulations, and some of them involved the washing of various parts of the body. Before meals, for example, one must wash for a certain time and in a particular way. The sleeves must be rolled up and the arms washed to the point of the elbows. Not to clean, but to fulfil.
This was the purpose of the jars. And in the action of Christ they represented the attempts of the Jew to make himself pure.
Jesus made the water wine. Christ through His actions said this: “Instead of your futile efforts to make yourselves right in the sight of God, I will give a new means to achieve this. What I am doing now is a sign of what I am going to do for you. This, in fact, is a preliminary instalment of your true salvation.”
Every detail of the story points to this. It was a display of power.
First, there were only six jars—an imperfect number.
Second, the provision was at no expense to men. All the servants had to do was to watch the poor means they provided changed.
Third, it was a great expense to Christ. His words, “My hour is not yet come,” echoes and reechoes through the gospel, leaving us in no doubt as to what His hour was: the sacrifice of His own life on the Cross.
Fourth, the provision is brim full. And the outcome was a tremendous quantity of liquid — the glorious abundance of the new life He brings and gives: the miracle of luxury.
Fifth, it was changed into wine. It is the difference between baptism for repentance and baptism for newness of life.
Sixth, it was offered to all and sundry.
Seventh, it is completely satisfying.
Weddings are much the same today. There is a gathering together and feasting. And the other social events in life — from the birth of the child and the parental desire for dedication or christening, to the sad assembly when a life ends — are much the same as they were when our Lord attended them in the flesh.
And since that time when He transformed a wedding ceremony and showed the world the way out of its stress and striving and sorrow, Christ has been standing, offering life to the world, for He came that they might have life and have it more abundantly.
But it is man’s dismal experience: they do not recognise the Lord, by whose grace and love these institutions were first set up, and by whose grace and love we have such an opportunity and society in which we may live free and enlightened lives.
And still He stands, offering us the transformation — out of sight.
But, you say, there is scarcely a parallel. We are a Christian people. He showed the sign against the pattern of Jewish legalism, and to men fettered by ritual.
But there is a parallel — at every point.
True, it is that we are not bound to the Law of Moses like the Jews, or to a priestly code of conduct. But we are bound to a moral law, the product of our civilisation. Most of us think that the highest aim we can have is to live according to the moral law, or to live up to the moral ideal.
There are few men who have an idealistic streak in them, and if they do not consistently seek it themselves, they certainly do look for it in everyone else. Men know it, and would aspire after it.
But if they make the attempt, there are inevitably one of two results.
The first is of frustration and failure, as the man strives towards the ideal and never reaches it. Many theories about how to reach it — from passivity to a programme of works — yet, in spite of it all, is there any man today who could say, “I have reached the level where I am quite righteous. My life measures up to the ideal life that my conscience holds up before me”?
Does not the man rather say, “We all have our little weaknesses and failures. I know I am not perfect”?
Only when man stops to analyse and assess his conduct does he realise the magnitude of the little things. “Anyone who hates his brother is a murderer; and also does not love remain in death. He who has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, has not God’s love in him.” [wording partly uncertain]
But if he does try, in his own strength and by his own resources, disillusionment awaits him.
And far more frequently, he comes to the other result of man’s contact with truth, goodness and virtue — and that is a watering down of the ideal, so that it becomes a comfortable, easy, anaemic thing. Something that he can reach: a nice respectable way of life which he can quite comfortably manage, but without any savour, and colour, and glory.
It is like the water at the feast. There is plenty of it, but it is only water, and tepid at that.
And there is no satisfaction in either of these positions. In the first, where man tries, he ends up in frustration. In the second, where he accommodates himself, brings the ideal down to a level where he can manage it, he finishes up without satisfaction, and feels in his heart those stirrings to escape to the clean fresh air of — well, of what? Surely, of acceptance with God.
You remember the words of Cleopatra after Antony had been killed: she decked herself out in the symbols of her former glory, and prepared to die, being arrayed with the symbols of her earthly life, she said, “Give me my robe, put on my crown, I have immortal longings in me.”
How like us. In the midst of our comfort, we have the immortal longings:
“As the hart longs for flowing streams, so longs my soul for thee, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God? My tears have been my food day and night, while men say to me continually, Where is your God?”
Let us go right back to the start. I said that our Lord did not go to the feast without reason. He never does anything except for a purpose. He brought you here today, just as really as if He had taken you by the hand and led you. And He speaks to you now, just as really as He spoke to the servants at the wedding.
Why has He brought us? What does He say to us? Surely we know:
“Ho every one who thirsts, and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which does not satisfy? Hearken diligently to me, and eat what is good; incline your ear, and come to me, hear, that your soul may live.”
“How?” you say. “I cannot see the Lord. If I could see Him and touch Him…”
Think of the president at the feast. What did he do? He took the wine and drank.
So can we, by faith, take the salvation He offers. Just believe what He says, and accept it, and rest in Him. He says, “Whoever believes in me will have everlasting life.”
Tell Him simply that you will take Him at His word, and accept the righteousness He offers. He is only a prayer away, and our ideal in Him is only a “Yes” away.
Make it a prayer like this to Him:
Lord, I accept Thy salvation. I am done with striving and struggling to live in my own righteousness, or being satisfied with what is less than truly good. I claim righteousness in Thee. All my failure and weakness I give to Thee. From now on fulfil Thy word and live in me.
***
Almighty God, Thou art gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. Thou art good to all, and Thy compassion is over all that Thou hast made.
All Thy works give thanks to Thee, O Lord, and all Thy saints bless Thee. They speak of the glory of Thy kingdom, and tell of Thy power, to make known to the sons of men Thy mighty deeds, and the glorious splendour of Thy kingdom.
In the spirit of gratitude and with the desire to give the glory to Thy name, we bring Thee our worship, in the salvation of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
We come into Thy presence with thanksgiving, O Lord our God. The hymns that we sing, the scriptures that we read, and the prayers that we form arise from hearts which reach out in adoration to Thee.
Honour and majesty are before Thee; strength and beauty are in Thy sanctuary.
Today, as Thy people meet before Thee in worship, may praise be perfected in Zion. May the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable, O Lord our God and our Redeemer. May a new song be sung this day. Thy name be blessed, and Thy salvation be told. May Thy glory be declared among the nations — the glory due unto Thy name.
When we pause to remember Thy glory, our souls are moved at Thy greatness and power, and our awe-inspired minds empty themselves of self-importance and empty pride, and we bow in subjection to Thee.
May we never lose the gift of reflection, and so presumptuously exalt ourselves to vainly disregard Thy glory.
When we think about Thy grace, we are stirred to our depths in the knowledge that in ignorance and rebellion we were never abandoned by Thee. Continue to give Thy grace to us, that we may be saved from continuing ignorance and wilfulness.
If, in the pressure of our daily, busy lives, we begin to forget Thy glory and grace, bring us to ourselves.
Keep us with our minds stayed upon Thee.
When we feel the wind in our faces, help us to remember the Spirit, who can make us free like the wind.
When we see the birds in the skies, may we remember Thy care of us.
In the sun and the rain, remind us again of Thy provision.
When we walk by the sea, or gaze at the mountains, may we become aware again of Thy almighty power.
When we feel the stirrings of joy and contentment in our family lives and among our friends, may we experience again Thy love, which knows no limit, and which counted no sacrifice great enough to make for us.
And when the cares of the world, and the anxieties which beset us, press upon us, hold us and teach us to cast all upon Thee, and so be drawn nearer and nearer to Thee, and so find our release in Thee.
Make Thy light to shine upon Thy people today. For those who think they are at the end of their resources, we offer special prayers today, our God. For those who in their need are groping after Thee, but cannot find Thee, open their eyes that they might see.
And for all who are out on the King’s business today, we offer our special prayers. For all who are fighting Thy battles, or proclaiming Thy laws, carrying Thy despatches, or engaged in diplomatic missions, we ask a great measure of Thy power.
Bless the preachers in their pulpits, and those on the street sides. For the translators of Thy word and interpreters. For Christian pilots in their mission planes, and all those who keep the supply lines open. For the faithful who have prayed through the years, keeping open the channels of Thy grace and building up the spiritual tide.
Strengthen the body of Thy Church, and in it save the souls of men.
This, our God, is our earnest prayer. For Jesus’ sake. Amen.
May we see our fellow men as Thou does see us, O God, and tend to them — love like the love that has sought and saved us. As we give our gifts, may our hearts be opened and our love for all men be deepened. Amen.
