A sermon preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields on January 19, 2025 by Revd Catherine Duce

Reading for address: John 2: 1-11

One of the things I most appreciate about Wednesday evenings here at St Martin’s are the listening lectio groups after Bread for the World. Week after week people gather to share from the heart how a particular word or phrase from scripture has spoken to them that evening. Last Wednesday, Richard was preaching, and we were looking at this same Epiphany gospel passage of the Wedding at Cana. ‘So often I feel like one of those large stone water-jars,’ shared one person, ‘I have nothing left to give, I’m running on empty’. ‘Then, just when I’m at my wits end, I sense Jesus at work within me, making wine, transforming the poverty of my own offering’. Then another person followed, ‘You know those rare moments in your life when you feel really affirmed and seen and heard in a group, those precious moments of connection, that’s for me when I sense the wine flowing’.

Then it was my turn. Was I going to be honest, yes I was. ‘There’s a stumbling block for me in this passage, and it hits me every time,’ I begin. ‘Why does Jesus in the first of his signs, display such reluctance to act when his mother points out the need for more wine. “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.”‘ I fear I’m sounding negative but it feels good to unburden my troubled heart: ‘In our world longing for miracles, and displaying such bewildering need, Jesus’ reluctance to act seems so at odds with the extravagant generosity and loving kindness we see is possible by the end of the story. The contrast is almost painful’.

Later that evening, I continued to ponder my thoughts.

Yes, in a world where for so many there is no clean water – let alone fine wine – where is the extravagance of God? In a world where children play in bomb craters the size of thirty-gallon wine jugs, why this divine reluctance?

Was Jesus holding out to reduce levels of drunken behaviour? Unlikely! He, after all, chose his first sign to be one of joyful celebration at a wedding feast, rich in symbolism. Was Jesus holding off revealing too much of his very nature and purpose so early in his ministry? Was he displaying a Johannine emphasis on divine control of time ‘my hour has not yet come’?

Later in the gospel, of course, we hear Jesus say, ‘The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified’, before his death on a cross. Perhaps Jesus’ actions were saying there is a plan and everyone must be patient as we wait for it to unfold.

My own understanding is that Jesus’ reluctance is in fact an invitation, which Mary picks up on. Because the mother of Jesus becomes the catalyst for Jesus’ extravagant generosity. It is her prodding and her noticing, her attentiveness and her astuteness that triggers the miracle of turning water into wine.

Listen to these words by Pope Francis:

‘Like Mary at Cana, let us make an effort to be more attentive in our squares and towns, to notice those whose lives have been “watered down,” who have lost—or have been robbed of—reasons for celebrating; those whose hearts are saddened. And let us not be afraid to raise our voices and say: “they have no wine.”’

Pope Francis goes on:

‘The cry of the people of God, the cry of the poor, is a kind of prayer; it opens our hearts and teaches us to be attentive. Let us be attentive, then, to all situations of injustice and to new forms of exploitation that risk making so many of our brothers and sisters miss the joy of the party. Let us be attentive to the lack of steady employment, which destroys lives and homes. … Let us be attentive to the lack of shelter, land and employment experienced by so many families. And, like Mary, let us say: they have no wine, Lord.’

Listening to people’s responses in Bread for the World listening groups sharpens my own attentiveness to those ‘who have no wine’ but it also disciplines me to sit with my longings and impatience, and to bear witness to the Spirit as it bubbles up amongst us.

Mary does not remain silent for long in the face of divine reluctance, instead she approaches the servants and says to them be attentive, stand ready, wait: ‘Do whatever he tells you’. With humility, and faithfulness, with trust and devotion Mary waits patiently for her Son to act. She beckons us to do the same: ‘do whatever he tells you’.

I think of Dan and Sophie from our congregation who yesterday organised a beautiful send-off for a member of our international group, Edwin, who died last term. With quiet care and devotion they hosted Edwin in their home, they played hours of chess with him, they offered him kindness in his last hours on a hospital bed dying of cancer, they helped to organise for his body to be repatriated to Kenya. They saw the need, they responded to Jesus’ call, ‘Do whatever he tells you’. Through their persistent kindness they have been catalysts for so many small miracles in people’s lives who need help, as they themselves seek to live the beatitudes in their corner of Pimlico.

There are countless other examples that I could share.

Listening to people’s insights in my group reminds me there are small epiphanies, small miracles happening all the time around us. As Fiona MacMillian shared with us yesterday in Nazareth, it takes discipline to write our own headlines. To not be sucked into mindless strolling on social media that leaves us empty. But to be sentinels for the goodness of God and co-creators of God’s loving kindness in small and particular ways.

So may we like Mary continue to declare: ‘They have no wine’ regarding situations in our neighbourhoods and world. Let us prod God for divine compassion and generosity, and may Mary’s words continue to find a place in us: ‘Do whatever he tells you’. God wants abundance for everyone. Plentiful wine and lavish food are common symbols of God’s kingdom in Scripture. This new covenant of love, this new order of the Spirit is for everyone.

The final person speaks in my listening group. ‘Oh I love this passage. It always brings me back to the mystery of the Eucharist. I’m reminded of the blood of Christ, the gift of God’s very self to us on the cross, and that beautiful command “feed on me in your hearts by faith and with thanksgiving”’.

The session ended on Wednesday with my heart feeling lighter, more peaceful and more joyful. How we need each other on this adventure with God.

So I end, with words from our opening hymn:

Jesus, come! surprise our dullness, make us willing to receive more than we can yet imagine, all the best you have to give: let us find your hidden riches, taste your love, believe, and live!

Amen.