Sermon - January 17, 2010

2nd Sunday after Epiphany – Year C
January 17, 2010
John 2:1-11

“First” Sets a pattern

Like many of you (perhaps like most of you) I have been glued to the coverage of the earthquake in Haiti. The pictures, the stories, the series of events are both horrifying and unimaginable. I don’t think it is intended to be shock journalism, but some of the photos have been a bit too much.

I was trying to pay attention to my conversation partner yesterday afternoon, but the TV in the coffee shop kept showing the same clip of a woman found alive but trapped. The subtitles scrolling across the screen spoke of the miracle that she had been found alive and of what it took to free her. But, the story went on to report, she died before reaching the hospital.

Perhaps you have heard that among the US citizens who died was Ben Larson. Son of Bishop April Larson, Ben and his wife were in Haiti in connection with their seminary education. Renee, and another Wartburg student – Jonathan, were in the same building as Ben. They escaped and made their way back to the Guest House, but Ben never showed up. Attempts to return to the facility where he had been teaching were unsuccessful. Renee and Jonathan were evacuated to the Dominican Republic, leaving behind any hope of finding Ben or his body.

Some of you will remember that I went to Haiti, in February of 2003. I have a white stole was made by the young girls working in the sewing shop at the Episcopal school in Cange. When I returned I told you what so many have been saying for the past four days – the people of Haiti are wonderful, but the economic and social conditions are horrible. The place was a wreck before the earthquake. A wreck for many reasons, corrupt government among them, but certainly not (as some radio talk-show hosts have implied) as a result of the people’s sinfulness or unwillingness to improve their lot.

The news stories which always catch my eye and ear are those which begin to ask “the God question.” By that I mean “Where was God when this was happening?” Or “How could God allow this to happen.” Or “What did they do to deserve this?” Such questions are inevitable at such a time, and they deserve an answer. Unfortunately, the answer is either naively simple, or terribly complex. The quick, naive answers are unhelpful; and the pulpit isn’t the place for a complex presentation of the long answer.

I would be happy to share what I have learned, in whatever setting would be best for you – just ask. For now, let me say that there are five classical answers to the question of how an all powerful and all loving God could allow bad things to happen. These five – each logical and Biblically defensible – are outlined in a book I have in my office. Titled Encountering Evil, I will be happy to loan you a copy. You can also get a pretty good glimpse of four of the five classical answers if you read The Shack. While the author doesn’t set forth the four options as conflicting options, each is explored in discussions between Mac and the three persons of the Trinity and the judge.

One of the five, the one with which I am most comfortable, refuses to accept suffering and death as a tit-for-tat equation. There is no blame associated with the presence of hardships. Nor is there always a greater good to be realized when it is all over. Things happen. And whether those things be good things or bad things, God’s presence is never to be doubted; God’s love is never to be questioned.

There are a lot of Biblical verses which support this answer to why horrible things happen. Most notably are Jesus’ own words. In Luke 13 he asks, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all others Galileans? No, I tell you. …. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them – do you think that they were worse offenders? No, I tell you.” Jesus debunks the mistaken notion that bad things happen to us because we deserve it. The Haitians aren’t more evil than the rest of us. They did not and should not be shunned because of what has befallen them.

God loves us; God cares for us. The central message of all of scripture is God’s desire to make our lives fuller and more joyful. God is not sitting around looking for an opportunity to punish us; God actively seeks opportunities to lift us up and help us understand how deeply we are valued.

This is the message to be drawn out of our Gospel Lesson for today. It is a story which underscores the good news that far from looking upon us with a judgmental eye, God is looking upon us with a kind and giving heart.

John is careful to tell us that this miracle, performed at a wedding ceremony, is the first of Jesus’ miracles. The first of his miracles is to change water into wine in order to prevent the chief steward and/or the groom from being embarrassed.

“Firsts” are usually pretty important to us. I remember my first Sunday at University Lutheran. As Linda Lavold said, “It is standing room only in there.” You made me feel so welcome.

Last week Pastor Hartsell spoke of the need to tell one another of our love. I remember the first time Laura said to me, “I love you.” “Firsts” are pretty important. They set a tone; they communicate significance.

What then are we to make of Jesus’ first miracle?

Other miracles are to follow; other amazing miracles. He will walk on water, calm a storm, raise a dead little girl, feed 5,000 with a few loaves and fish, heal the sick, and give sight to the blind. Amazing stuff. By comparison, this little stunt at the wedding reception might seem out of place. Was he just warming up? Did he need to get his sea legs before he could take on the really big things like healing the 10 lepers?

What are we to make of Jesus’ “first” miracle?

It struck me, as I was dragging myself away from the news coverage, and back to my sermon that maybe Jesus’ “first” miracle is carefully positioned to remind us of the purpose and hope of each of his miracles. Jesus came among us to assure us that God’s concern is not with the heavens; God’s concern is with us. Jesus came among us to make sure that we never undervalue this life, this existence. All of our days – filled as they may be with trials or bursting with celebrations – all of our days are the days which matter most to Jesus.

What better way of teaching us this than to make his first miracle a miracle which occurs during a celebration of life and love and commitment?

It is not an answer to why all those people in Haiti had to die. It is not an explanation of how an all loving and all powerful God could stand by why such a thing happened. But it is an undeniable assurance that this did not happen because God just doesn’t care. God does care. Cares enough to transform the water into wine in order that our celebration of life might go on, unhindered by our own poor planning.

One more thing about this miracle. The circle of those who are in the know is very limited. The servants know; the chief steward does not; it is therefore doubtful that the guests would have been informed. Jesus does what he needs to do/Jesus does what he wants to do in rather anonymity. He provides the wine, and steps into the shadows. His miracles do not call attention to themselves.

The miracles happening these days in Haiti are most likely to be God’s miracles when they follow suit. It isn’t that which is flashy and showy which is of God. It is the gentle act of filling a few jugs with water which mimics what it is that our God does. Think about that. Some will speak of planning mission trips or evacuating orphaned children. All those things are good. But the act which is most like the work of Jesus is giving $5 to the Red Cross so they can send down a gallon of water.

There are horrible pictures and stories emerging out of Haiti. There is every reason to ask “the God question,” and those who suffer will inevitably be asking it. While there are many perfectly acceptable answers, it is helpful to remember that one of those answers continues to affirm God’s intentions toward us. There are sufficient stories within our Bibles so as to allow us to believe that hardship is not a result of transgression; that God is concerned and has a deep desire to provide for His children – even when those children might fail to think ahead and be prepared for every eventuality.


Amen.