Day 1 – Jesus Brings The Better Wine

2 On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ motherwas there, ² and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. ³ When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.”

⁴ “Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.”

⁵ His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”

⁶ Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons.

⁷ Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water”; so they filled them to the brim.

⁸ Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.”

They did so, ⁹ and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside ¹⁰ and said, “Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now.”

¹¹ What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.

Comment

There is a familiar saying: you never get a second chance to make a first impression.

So what story would you choose to introduce the public ministry of Jesus? Perhaps one in which he delivers a breathtaking sermon, heals a desperate sufferer or confronts the religious hypocrites of his day. Surely not a story about rescuing a wedding reception after the wine has run out!

Yet John chooses this deliberately. He calls it the first of Jesus’ ‘signs’: an event that points beyond itself and reveals Jesus’ glory. If this is our first impression of Jesus, John wants us to notice what kind of person he is—and what he reveals about his Father and his kingdom.

Today we begin the first week of a two-week series, The Beauty and the Sense of Christianity. Next week we will consider why Christianity makes sense: why it is grounded in reality, historically rooted and able to withstand honest questions. But we begin with its beauty, because human beings are not disembodied brains. We have minds that ask, ‘Is it true?’ but also hearts that ask, ‘Is it good? Is it desirable? Is it beautiful?’

The beauty of Christianity is finally the beauty of Christ. Across this week we will meet his generosity, welcome, mercy, humility and sacrificial love. He leads a beautiful life, invites us to trust him and calls us to become like him. And his first sign is a sign of joy.

A first-century Jewish wedding was not merely a private family occasion. It mattered to the whole village and could continue for days. In an honour-shame culture, the bride’s family was expected to provide generous hospitality. Running out of wine was therefore more than an awkward catering mistake. It was a public humiliation—the kind of failure people might remember and retell for decades.

Mary evidently expects Jesus to act, despite his puzzling reply. And he does. But notice the scale of his response. Jesus does not produce just enough ordinary wine to get the family through the evening. Six enormous jars are filled to the brim—perhaps as much as 700 litres—and the water becomes wine. Nor is it cheap wine. The master of the banquet is astonished by its quality: ‘You have saved the best till now.’ (v.10)

Jesus gives an outrageous abundance of the very best. He gives it to people who have done nothing to deserve it and most of whom never discover where it came from. He is doing far more than preventing a social faux pas. He is showing us the generous heart of God.

The jars themselves deepen the sign. They held water used for ceremonial washing: a reminder that sinful people needed cleansing before approaching God. Jesus takes these symbols of purification and fills them with the joyous drink of the wedding feast. The old jars are not discarded; under his command they become vessels of lavish celebration. The sign points towards the new thing God is doing through Jesus: cleansing, welcome and joy—not in meagre measure, but filled to the brim.

The Old Testament prophets had pictured God’s salvation as a magnificent banquet. Isaiah spoke of ‘a feast of rich food for all peoples’ and ‘a banquet of aged wine—the best of meats and the finest of wines’ (Isaiah 25:6). At Cana, Jesus quietly announces that the Lord of that feast has arrived. His kingdom is moving history towards a wedding celebration where shame, sorrow and even death will finally be swallowed up.

But what will it cost Jesus to bring us to that feast? His words to Mary provide a clue: ‘My hour has not yet come.’ (v.4).Throughout John’s Gospel, Jesus’ ‘hour’ is the hour of his death. Even at this joyful wedding, he is looking towards the cross. There he will bear our sin and shame so that we may be cleansed, welcomed and brought into the joy of God’s kingdom.

Christianity is sometimes imagined as cramped, colourless and restrictive—a life of grim rule-keeping under the eye of a reluctant God. Cana gives a very different first impression. Jesus is not the enemy of joy. He saves the celebration, provides the best wine and gives far more than anyone could ask or deserve. He does not promise that following him will remove every sorrow now. His own road leads through the cross. But it leads finally to the feast.

Why does God want me to hear this today? Perhaps because my picture of Jesus has become too small and joyless. He wants me to see again the beauty of his Son: the Lord who removes shame, gives grace in abundance and invites undeserving people to his everlasting celebration.