Could it be Magic?

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.