Glory in the Good Wine Text: John 2:1-11
Introduction: The War on Mirth
The first public act of our Lord Jesus Christ was not to deliver a sermon on austerity, nor was it to lead a protest against the local tax collector. His first public miracle, the "beginning of His signs," was to rescue a wedding party from the acute social embarrassment of running out of wine. He did this by making a great deal of very good wine, somewhere between 120 and 180 gallons of it. This is a fact that has caused a certain kind of pinched and pious Christian to shuffle their feet for two millennia.
We must understand that Christianity is not a Gnostic religion. It is not a faith that despises the material world, the body, or the simple pleasures of a good feast. The Gnostic impulse, which is always trying to sneak in the back door of the church, wants a disembodied spirituality, a bloodless, sterile faith. It wants a Christ who turns wine into water. But the Christ of the Scriptures shows up to a party and turns water into wine. And not just any wine, but the best wine.
This first sign at Cana is a declaration of war against all forms of joyless legalism. It is a polemic against the religious spirit that measures holiness by what you abstain from. Jesus did not come to put a damper on the party; He came to be the life of the party, because He is Life itself. This miracle is a signpost. It is a trailer for the great movie of redemption. It points to who Jesus is, what He has come to do, and the nature of the kingdom He is inaugurating. It is a kingdom of transformation, of joy, of abundance, and of glory revealed in the most ordinary of human settings.
John tells us this story so that we might see His glory and believe in Him. If your vision of Christ does not have room for a wedding feast, for laughter, and for the miraculous provision of good wine, then your vision of Christ is smaller than the one the Bible gives us. Let us therefore come to this text, ready to have our small, gray notions of religion shattered by the glorious, Technicolor reality of the gospel.
The Text
And on the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there; and both Jesus and His disciples were invited to the wedding. And when the wine ran out, the mother of Jesus said to Him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what do I have to do with you? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servants, “Whatever He says to you, do it.” Now there were six stone water jars set there for the Jewish custom of purification, containing two or three measures each. Jesus said to them, “Fill the water jars with water.” So they filled them up to the brim. And He said to them, “Draw some out now and take it to the headwaiter.” So they took it to him. Now when the headwaiter tasted the water which had become wine, and did not know where it came from (but the servants who had drawn the water knew), the headwaiter called the bridegroom, and said to him, “Every man serves the good wine first, and when the people have drunk freely, then the inferior wine; but you have kept the good wine until now.” Jesus did this in Cana of Galilee as the beginning of His signs, and manifested His glory, and His disciples believed in Him.
(John 2:1-11 LSB)
The Occasion and the Problem (vv. 1-3)
The story begins with the setting and a social crisis.
"And on the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there; and both Jesus and His disciples were invited to the wedding. And when the wine ran out, the mother of Jesus said to Him, 'They have no wine.'" (John 2:1-3)
John, who is writing theology, not just biography, starts with "on the third day." For John, the third day is always resurrection day. It is the day of new life and new creation. He is framing this first sign in the light of the final victory. The new creation work of Jesus begins here. And where does it begin? At a wedding. Marriage is the first institution God created, the bedrock of society. By performing His first miracle here, Jesus honors and sanctifies marriage, family, feasting, and the fabric of ordinary human life. He is not a monk who retreats from the world; He is a king who invades it to redeem it.
Jesus and His brand-new disciples are invited guests. He is sociable. He goes to parties. He eats and drinks with people, a fact His enemies would later twist into an accusation of gluttony and drunkenness. But here we see His simple willingness to be present in the midst of human joy.
Then the crisis hits: "the wine ran out." In that honor-shame culture, this was a disaster. It would bring deep disgrace upon the families. Mary, acting as a concerned relative, sees the problem and does the most sensible thing in the world: she brings it to Jesus. She doesn't have a solution, but she knows the one who does. She simply states the problem: "They have no wine." This is a model of effective prayer. We often come to God with our five-point plan for how He ought to fix things. Mary simply lays the need before Him in faith.
A New Relationship (vv. 4-5)
Jesus' response to His mother seems jarring to our modern ears, but it is crucial for understanding His mission.
"And Jesus said to her, 'Woman, what do I have to do with you? My hour has not yet come.' His mother said to the servants, 'Whatever He says to you, do it.'" (John 2:4-5)
The address "Woman" is not disrespectful. It is a formal term of address, the same one He uses with deep tenderness from the cross. The critical phrase is, "What do I have to do with you?" A better rendering is, "What does that concern have to do with you and me?" He is establishing a new protocol. He is gently telling His mother that their relationship has now changed. He is no longer operating under her maternal authority, but under the divine authority of His Father. His actions are now governed by a divine timetable, by His "hour," a theme that runs all through John's gospel, culminating in the cross.
This is the moment He steps fully from His private life into His public, messianic role. His mother understands this immediately. She does not argue or protest. She receives the gentle rebuke and turns to the servants with a statement of pure, unadulterated faith: "Whatever He says to you, do it." She points them away from herself and directly to Christ's authority. This is Mary's finest moment. She models for us the essence of discipleship: absolute, unquestioning obedience to the word of Jesus.
The Old and the New (vv. 6-8)
The props for this miracle are deeply symbolic.
"Now there were six stone water jars set there for the Jewish custom of purification... Jesus said to them, 'Fill the water jars with water.' So they filled them up to the brim. And He said to them, 'Draw some out now and take it to the headwaiter.'" (John 2:6-8)
John doesn't mention these jars for local color. There are six of them. In biblical numerology, seven is the number of perfection and completion. Six is the number of man, of incompleteness, of falling short. And what are these jars for? "The Jewish custom of purification." They represent the entire system of ceremonial washings, the ritual of the Old Covenant. They are filled with water, which can only cleanse the outside. They are symbols of a religion that, by itself, could never deal with the root of sin. It was a system that was falling short.
Jesus commands the servants to fill these jars with water. Notice their obedience. It must have seemed like a bizarre request. "The problem is no wine, and you want us to haul water?" But they obey, and they fill them "up to the brim." Faith does not demand a full explanation before it acts. They fill the symbols of the old system to overflowing.
Then comes the second command: "Draw some out now." The miracle is not accompanied by a lightning flash or a thunderclap. It happens quietly, hiddenly, in the simple act of obedience. The water becomes wine somewhere between the jar and the headwaiter's cup. God's transforming power is often released not in the spectacular, but in the mundane faithfulness of His people.
The Verdict of the Expert (vv. 9-10)
The quality of the miracle is now attested by an impartial witness.
"Now when the headwaiter tasted the water which had become wine... the headwaiter called the bridegroom, and said to him, 'Every man serves the good wine first... but you have kept the good wine until now.'" (John 2:9-10)
The headwaiter, or master of the feast, is the expert. He is the wine taster. And he is baffled. He tastes the wine, and his professional opinion is that this is not just wine, it is the best wine. He calls the bridegroom over to compliment him, inadvertently stating the central theological point of the whole story. The world gives its best up front. Its pleasures, its philosophies, its promises, they all start strong and then fade, leaving you with a hangover. But the kingdom of God is different. With God, the best is always yet to come.
This is a parable in a miracle. The water of the old covenant, the religion of ritual and works, is replaced by the rich wine of the new covenant. And this new covenant is not a lesser, watered-down version of the old. It is infinitely better. Jesus has not come to offer a slightly improved religion. He has come to replace the water of purification with the wine of celebration, the wine of His own blood, which provides true cleansing and true joy. He has kept the good wine until now.
The Point of the Sign (v. 11)
John concludes by telling us exactly what this event means.
"Jesus did this in Cana of Galilee as the beginning of His signs, and manifested His glory, and His disciples believed in Him." (John 2:11)
John calls Christ's miracles "signs." A sign is not an end in itself; it points to something beyond itself. This miracle is the first sign, and it points to the central reality of who Jesus is. This act "manifested His glory." Where was the glory? It was in His creative power, the same power that spoke the world into existence. It was in His lordship over the natural world. But it was also in His character. The glory of God was revealed in His generous, joyful, celebratory provision for a young couple on their wedding day. Our God is not a stingy God.
And what was the result? "His disciples believed in Him." The sign achieved its purpose. It was not done for the crowd or for the headwaiter. It was for His disciples. It was to take their fledgling faith and give it a solid foundation. They saw His glory, and it confirmed that this man they had just started following was indeed the Son of God, the promised Messiah, the true Bridegroom who had come to claim His bride, the Church, and to throw a feast where the wine would never run out.
Conclusion: Come to the Feast
The gospel is not a summons to a funeral. It is an invitation to a wedding feast. The problem for every one of us is that we have run out of wine. Our own efforts, our own righteousness, our own attempts at joy and purification are like those six stone jars, empty and falling short. We are spiritually bankrupt, and the shame of it is upon us.
Into this crisis, Jesus comes. He does not condemn us for our lack. He comes to fill what is empty and transform what is worthless. He takes the water of our failed religious efforts and, by His sovereign power, turns it into the wine of His grace. This grace is not cheap or second-rate. It is the best wine, the costly wine of His own blood, shed for the forgiveness of our sins.
The command to us is the same as it was to the servants: "Whatever He says to you, do it." The command of the gospel is to repent and believe. It is to stop trying to fill the jars with your own dirty water and to trust in His miraculous provision. When you do, you will find that He has saved the best for last. The joy, the life, the celebration of the kingdom of God far surpasses anything the world can offer. He invites you to the marriage supper of the Lamb, where the glory is manifest, the joy is overflowing, and the good wine never, ever runs out.