I preached this sermon at St. Lydia's on Sunday, January 8, 2012 as part of our exploration of the Gospel of John. The text is John 2:1-12, the story of Jesus turning water into wine. Read it here.
We’re actually going to hear this story one more time…
well,
it’s more of an interpretation of the story.
This is a reading from the Gospel of John by...
Rowan Atkinson.
So, I’m not playing your this sketch just for giggles.
Like most things that are really funny,
this sketch is funny because it hits on something
that feels like it might possibly be true,
and the truth of it scares us a little bit.
When you think about it,
doesn’t turning water into wine
seem a little bit like a cheap parlor trick?
Especially when you’re, you know, the son of God?
There is something about it that makes me expect
Jesus to take out a wand next.
If Jesus’ first “sign” is a magic trick,
is that really something we can believe in?
*
As it turns out, magicians were rampant in the first century.
Just like traveling salesmen who pedaled potions and remedies from their carts,
promising healing from whatever ails you,
ancient Israel was full of traveling prophets:
itinerant preachers who came to town,
performed miracles and healed the sick,
then moved on to the next place just before the jig was up.
Anyone who taught or prophesied in Israel
was up against a tough crowd of weary and suspicious folks
who had seen everything you can do with slight of hand and a couple of mirrors.
After Jesus’ death, the rumors persisted:
that perhaps this whole thing was just some kind of elaborate hoax:
an act, staged by a bunch of disciples
who couldn’t believe that their messiah wasn’t the real deal.
That’s why we get such careful descriptions
of the last hours of Jesus’ life and his burial
in the gospel accounts:
the writers want their readers to be absolutely sure
that the tomb was closed and sealed
and that nobody’s running around the countryside with Jesus’ body.
Maybe the story’s easier to believe if we do think that it’s magic.
Later in the first century, certain Gnostic Christians
were Docetists, believing that Jesus’ body wasn’t actually real,
but an illusion.
Sort of like a hologram.
He seemed very real, walking and talking,
but wasn’t actually, physically human,
and only appeared to suffer and die on the cross.
This idea was later branded heretical,
but isn’t there something about it that’s appealing?
Less messy than a God who dwells with us in flesh,
who suffers and dies.
Maybe it was just an illusion.
*
I am familiar with living under illusions.
Perhaps you are too.
One illusion I lived under for quite some time
was particularly convincing.
It was called the,
“If I Don’t Look At It, It Will Go Away,”
illusion.
There was another great one I remember from a while back.
It was called the,
“He Really Loves You, It’s Just Hard For Him To Show It” illusion.
That particular trick was generally followed closely by another crowd pleaser:
the, “It’s Been Such A Stressful Time Lately; I’m Sure It Will Get Better.”
And finally, the big closer:
the, “I’m Happy. No, Really. I am.”
We can be pretty impressive masters of illusion ourselves.
You may not have a trick deck or or a white rabbit,
but sometimes it can feel that way.
At times, you can convince yourself of almost anything,
At times, you see only what you want to see.
In fact, it’s exactly the same technique used
by the traveling salesman who comes through town,
peddling his potions and claiming he can heal the sick.
He preys on desire.
He knows that when someone wants something badly enough,
they’ll believe almost anything.
*
Here is the reason Jesus is something more than a parlor magician.
While you or I are able to stage elaborate illusions of our own,
Jesus offers only the truth.
But a different kind of truth than we’ve ever seen before.
Stripped of my illusions,
I tend to think that the only other option presented to me
is a cold, hard reality.
A harsh daylight that reveals everything as it truly is:
all angles and edges.
But with Christ there is this strange thing:
a third option.
A third reality:
God’s reality.
And in the Gospel of John,
it’s called “life.”
And it’s so hard to describe,
so hard to fit into words,
that we’re forced to use stories and symbols and signs
just to try to talk about it.
It’s bread – but when you eat it you will never be hungry again.
It’s water – but when you drink it you will never be thirsty again.
It’s light – the true light – a light that the darkness cannot overcome.
It’s like...a wedding.
A wedding where you think the wine has run out,
but then find that it hasn’t.
That there is wine in abundance,
and it’s sweeter and better than any you have ever tasted.
It’s not an illusion and it’s not a mirage.
It’s truer than our reality and realer than our dreams.
It’s not an escape, but an entrance.
The stone has rolled away.
The illusions are shattered.
The smoke is banished, the mirrors too.
He has broken death open,
and made a new way:
toward truth, and life.
Love this one. Thanks!
Posted by: Ana Hernandez | 01/10/2012 at 09:19 AM