I am so honored once again to have been asked by Pastor Moore and this congregation to bring God's Word to you. I bring you greetings from one of your seminaries-we have eight in the ELCA-the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, where with twenty full-time faculty members we train people for ministry in Christ's church. We need your prayers especially in these times, that God may move people to support the teaching mission and ministry of the church and to provide leaders for the next generation.

In the name of Jesus. Amen

There could hardly be a better text on which to preach than the gospel for today. It is one of my all-time favorite Bible stories. My advice to you is to memorize it; remember it; paint it on your hearts. There could be no better text-in the first place, all because of one single line, which comes not from Jesus' lips but from Mary's: "They have no wine!"

Of course, they had drunk it all, and one of the guests (I'll let you guess who) brought twelve of his closest friends, and you have to believe they were a thirsty lot, being that at least four of them were fishermen. No wonder, then! They were at the big feast, that precious moment in the life of any couple-believe me, I just celebrated my daughter's wedding last September-and they ran out of wine!

Mary told the truth. "They have no wine." And yet, her words, simple as they are, cut much deeper and tell the truth about us, about the human experience itself. "We have no wine." There seemed to be some there when we started, but suddenly, when we least expected, we ran out and were left with the dregs. Of course, we can certainly see it in our energy-starved, water-starved, money-starved planet. We have no oil, no water, no money. But the list goes on: we have no peace; we have no protection from things that go bump in the night or that drive planes into tall buildings; we have no respite from sin or from death. We started life on what seemed to be paradise, a real Eden, but now, Mary is right: "They have no wine."

Of course, we try our best to fix our situations of want and need. Drill deeper wells, take out bigger loans, send more troops, heighten security, see the doctor more often, try to mend broken relationships-but all we have is watery, useless substitutes for good wine. And, no doubt, you here at Christ the King, you will try all kinds of things, too. You will try to make your pastor, present or past, into wine-or the music program or the building program. Others of you think God died and left you in charge of making wine for yourselves-pouring spiritual water into glasses meant for the sweetest wine.

So, there's the truth. "They at Christ the King, Houston, have no wine." And neither does anyone else. Mary said it; I believe it; that settles it! This little story, you see, is not just about a poor wedding in Cana or even about the necessity for hiring good wedding planners or even about Jesus blessing marriages, although he does. No! In the first instance this story is about Mary's devastating word of truth, describing the human situation in a single sentence: "They have no wine!"
Except for one thing! We have no wine, but Jesus? Ah, with Jesus, that's a whole different story altogether. Even admitting that the silly wedding at Cana was no big thing, not his hour-that is, it was not the cross or the empty tomb-even telling off his mother in no uncertain terms, "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me?" Still, Jesus is so filled with wine (and Mary knows it) that he cannot help himself and simply goes and does something about it.

He takes our water, that is, our weakness, our nothingness, our sin, our death, our grief, our sorrow, our losses-whatever loss is on your mind today, right now-and turns it into wine. He did it. He just did it. And because he did it, it turned out to be the best wine they'd yet had. And it was a lot of wine. I mean, here are people who have already drunk everything set aside for the wedding, and yet he makes another 600 gallons-I think that's about ½ gallon for each citizen of Cana; it was such a small town. (By the way, Luther uses the abundance to prove that, despite what sourpusses say, it is not a sin to dance at weddings.) In any event, it's a lot of wine and it was the best they'd ever had. Something off the Wine Spectator list, I'm sure.

And do not imagine that Jesus just did that once. This is what our Lord is in the business of doing: changing water into wine, taking our nothing and making something of it. He takes the cross and makes resurrection wine, remember? That was his hour; that was the height of his glory. And yet, before our own resurrection, this same Jesus continues to make wine. After all, as Paul writes, consider your call, none of you is really anything important. "And yet God takes what is weak in the world to shame the strong." God gives peace in the midst of war; comfort in the midst of terror; plenty in the face of want; forgiveness for sin; healing for sickness; and, finally resurrection for death.

And here, in this place, Jesus promises good, new, rich, abundant wine. Jesus promises to reveal his glory-even in the middle of loss and change and the flood of uncertainty. Just take a look ahead in the gospel of John. When we become uncertain about our birth, he will promise a new birth from above, from the Spirit. When we are thirsty like the sinful woman at the well, he will give us water to slake every thirst. When we are hungry, he is the bread of life. And, when you crave a leader, in John chapter 10 he will say, "I am the Good Shepherd." Of course, as you probably all know, the word shepherd in Latin is pastor. Christ alone is your pastor in this place. He is there with good pasturage and great wine. Your Good Pastor, Christ, meets you here at this table and feeds you his body and blood-a foretaste of the wedding feast to come!

Imagine that! You may be sitting there, wishing that you could see such a miracle-I know I would, especially if it were a really good Riesling. Yet, as St. Augustine preached on this text, we forget that each year God uses grapes and turns water into wine. But, even more remarkably, at this table we are invited to the very same wedding feast, and we gather with the disciples and Mary. And Christ's servants draw out from the chalice wine, now become the blood of Christ, and bread, now Christ's body, and each an every one of us can go home saying, "They saved the best wine for last." For there is no better wedding celebration than this meal, where Christ feeds his spouse the church now and for eternity.

"Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him." And he is doing this same first sign among you here, today. In the midst of all of our need, our running out of wine, in our personal lives, in the workplace in our society and world and even in the church, Jesus is revealing and will reveal his glory. And he is doing this all so that you, too, may believe in him-not in your pastor or your favorite Melanchthon scholar-but in him, our Good Shepherd, our Good Wine, our Lord and God.

And now, may the peace of God which surpasses all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
Amen.