Have you
ever watched a really good magician do his tricks? David Copperfield is coming to town and he’s
got posters up and Facebook ads and television commercials and all kinds of
tricks up his sleeve. Maybe he’s got
coverage on the local news station, and he’s got an amazing trick planned like
making the Eiffel Tower or the Statue of Liberty disappear that he tells
everyone about. He razzle dazzles them,
and folks flock to see him perform.
There’s going to be lights, there’s going to be fireworks, there will be
sound effects and dramatic music, and from the moment you step into the room,
he’s going to try to fool you into thinking that what he is doing is not what
it seems. Like a simple coin trick. Anyone can make a coin disappear, right? First, of course, you need a coin. Anyone?
Then some clever patter, like I’m so Scottish, I can pinch a penny until
it screams, or at least I used to be able to do that when Canada still had
pennies. Or I can stick a pin with a
balloon and it won’t pop. Something like
that. I can make this quarter disappear
before your very eyes. Don’t believe
me? Well, like all things around
managing money, it takes practise and patience and sometimes things don’t go as
planned, and coins can be slippery and hard to hold onto, but the next thing
you know, well, where did it go? All of the sudden, the coin has disappeared,
and if I were a really good magician, I could hide it right in your ear, and
there it is. It’s a great skill to be
able to do something like a good magic trick at a party, and even a wedding
party, make a little entertainment, have a few laughs, and leave them wanting
more.
But if we
treat the story of the Wedding at Cana like a magic story, well, Jesus is a
terrible magician. First of all, where
was his publicist? He hasn’t really had
any advertising yet, he only has a few followers, and did you notice that John
doesn’t even name Jesus’ mother? She
comes across as a bit of a nag, quite honestly, and it wasn’t a terribly polite
response he gave her.
If my son
called me ‘woman’ when I was out with him at a family party, I’d be more than a
little annoyed at his response. Odd to
say the least. And really, why is his
mother sticking her nose into other people’s business anyway? Why should she care? Is this one of his brothers getting married
and she wants first-born to save younger brother from public
embarrassment? John never says. He never names the bridegroom, he never says
why Jessus is at the wedding in the first place, and there are a lot of loose
ends that have many biblical scholars viewing this story with a healthy dose of
skepticism, especially when this is the only version we have of the wedding at
Cana. Matthew, Mark and Luke have no
record of anything like this. John is a
lousy story teller, but I think he is a marvelous theologian.
Going back
to my first point of Jesus being a lousy magician, he’s got some pretty cool stage
props, the big water jugs for doing ritual purification for religious practises
and observances. But they are all behind
the scenes, so far from the action that even the head caterer doesn’t know
where the wine came from. The only ones
who knew what happened were the servants, the Diaconos
When we hear
the word servant, we should always pay close attention to that word. Repeatedly in all four gospels, Jesus talked
about being a new kind of leader, a servant leader. Especially in the Gospel of John, there is no
mention of a last supper. There is,
however, the last footwashing, when Jesus said that the one who would lead must
be a servant to the others. So it is a
theological statement when John tells us that the only ones who knew what
really had happened that day in Cana, were the servants. Those who were serving. Those who already put Jesus teaching about
the last being first, the blessedness of the humble and lowly, to practise
every day of their lives. The disciples
didn’t get it yet, even Jesus’ mother didn’t get it.
The servants
were the only ones who knew what had turned that party from a potential
shameful disaster of epic embarrassment into a marvelous celebration of hope
for two people starting a new stage in their lives. The servants knew who was responsible for
saving the day, livening the event, cheering the folks and helping people
forget for a moment the tough lives that they lived in an occupied country
where they had little safety and predictability. The servants knew, and they remembered that
it wasn’t always the flashy, braggy person who loved to be in the spotlight
that had made the event a happy success.
No, it was the quiet man in the back halls, hovering behind the kitchen
that had made everyone go home with a smile on their faces and a spring in
their step.
Just as this
gathering can be inspired, filled with the spirit that takes ordinary food like
bread and grape juice and makes it something that brings joy and healing to us
all. There are no fireworks, no disco
balls and no puffs of smoke. And yet,
despite that, we experience something deeply real that enriches our lives and
helps us remember that we are also called to servanthood, to community and to
listening for Jesus, tiptoeing around and changing our lives in wondrous ways
when we least expect it. I think that’s
a much better kind of magic , and thanks be to God that it is here every time
we break bread and gather in Jesus name.