From Scarcity to Abundance: Lessons from Cana

John 2 begins a theme throughout this entire Gospel account: Eucharistic Abundance —
Jesus provides an ultimate feast for all

 

Isaiah 62:1-5

1 Corinthians 12:1-11

John 2:1-11

Psalm 36:5-10

 

©2025 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

This sermon was preached originally on January 19, 2025 at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles. A video of this sermon may be found here. 

Loving and Beloved God, may my words be your words and when my words are not your words may your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen. 

 

Today’s Gospel passage takes us to a wedding feast in Cana of Galilee, where Jesus performed his first recorded miracle: turning water into wine. It’s a story brimming (pun intended) with significance, humor, and the revelation of God’s abundant grace. It is also profoundly important to understanding who God is and what God’s Reign on earth looks like.

 

Let’s begin with the scene itself. Imagine the joy of a wedding, a multi-day celebration filled with family, friends, food, and music. Such occasions are moments of union, community, and celebration—a microcosm of God’s desires for us. Weddings in the ancient world were significant communal events, meant to bring people together in shared joy. In the midst of this happiness, however, a problem arose: the wine ran out. Nowadays, if this were to happen someone would simply go on a b double e double r u n (beer run), but in those days there weren’t convenience stores. For the host, this would have been a complete social catastrophe, a failure to provide hospitality and celebration for the guests.

 

It was into this moment of scarcity that Mary, Jesus’ mother, stepped forward. She conveyed to her child, “They have no wine.” Jesus’ response might strike us as humorous, even slightly abrupt: “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” Now, if I said that to my momma, I would have gotten “the look” or worse. Yet, Mary didn’t argue. Instead, she turned to the servants and said, “Do whatever he tells you.” There is a quiet confidence in Mary’s faith here, an abiding belief that Jesus would act—and that whatever he did would be enough. I pray that God might bestow upon us that same sense of trust in God.

 

Back to the action, what Jesus did next was extraordinary—supernatural even. He took six stone water jars, each holding twenty or thirty gallons, jars meant for Jewish purification rituals, and transformed their contents into wine. That’s over 900 bottles of wine and not just any wine, but the best wine, better than what had been served the rest of the feast. The steward’s reaction says it all: “You have kept the good wine until now!”

 

Now, I’m sure we have all been to great weddings. I am personally partial to Kim’s and my own. A hot July day in Austin Texas meant that everyone was a sweaty mess even before the ceremony—celebrated by two of our best friends (who also happen to be priests). Even with the heat (and notoriously bad Austin traffic delaying the ceremony from starting on time) it was outstanding. Plus, a BBQ feast, delicious ice cream, and a packed dance floor made it the most fun night of my life. However, even my own wedding is not the most meaningful wedding to me, for this Cana wedding feast story reveals so much about the nature of God. 

 

First, it shows us a God who cares about celebration, about joy, and about the flourishing of life. Jesus’ first miracle is not performed in the Temple or for a grand audience, but at a wedding party, a simple, human occasion. God’s abundance is revealed in this moment of turning scarcity into plenty, a sign of the overflowing love that is at the heart of our Trinitarian God who is always loving so very much that it overflows the bounds of just that relationship between Father, Son, and Spirit. 

 

Second, this story points us toward transformation. The water jars used for ritual cleansing—signs of the old order, of the need for purification—are repurposed as vessels for celebration. In this act, Jesus is not discarding the old but transforming it, showing us a new way of encountering God’s grace. Truly, both are always needed—purification and celebration! This transformation invites us to look at the ordinary elements of our lives and see how they might be used to reveal God’s glory. A simple hike through the woods surprisingly reveals the creative love of God. Coffee with a friend becomes sacramental helping you to feel seen and heard by God through the compassion of a beloved one. Where else in our seemingly ordinary lives is God’s glory already shining?

 

Third, this is an Epiphany story. During this season, we celebrate the ways Jesus’ magnificence is revealed to the world. Here, in Cana, God revealed Jesus’ glory not with fanfare but through an act of quiet abundance. The disciples see it, and they believe. And, to be fair, who wouldn’t? 900 bottles of wine is a mighty tool for spreading the Gospel. All joking aside, it is a sign not just for the people of Israel but for all the world, a glimpse of the universal grace that Jesus offers.

 

But there is another layer to this story that connects deeply with the broader themes of John’s Gospel—themes that further reveal the nature of God. In John, there is no Last Supper narrative as we find in the other Gospel accounts. Instead, the theme of Eucharistic abundance is woven throughout the entire story. Jesus is the Bread of Life, the one who provides living water, the one who ensures the wine never runs dry. The wedding at Cana is the first of many moments where Jesus provided in abundance, foreshadowing the ultimate feast of the kingdom where all are fed and all are welcomed. And, that feast is still ongoing. We will partake in it this morning as we gather with Jesus around God’s holy table.

 

This Eucharistic abundance stands in stark contrast to the scarcity mindset that so often pervades our society. We are constantly bombarded with messages that we are not enough, that we do not have enough, that we must strive and consume to fill the void. But the kingdom of God operates differently. In God’s economy, there is always enough. In God’s economy, nothing is wasted. In God’s economy, there is always more than enough. The invitation is to trust in that abundance and to live as people who reflect it in our lives. That’s why so often at the offertory I talk about our connection to this table. For together with God we always have enough and God has a way of taking what we give and transforming our blessings into the blessings of others!

 

So, how might we live out this abundance this week? Perhaps it begins with gratitude, recognizing the ways God has already blessed us. Maybe it extends to generosity, sharing what we have with others (yes in the offertory plate, but also throughout your week). For the hope of God is that all may experience the joy of the feast. And, living out of God’s abundance certainly involves a commitment to celebration, to being people who reflect God’s joy and invite others into it. Come play Bingo on Friday night with your church family, come have fun with our Gumbo Gala squad, join us at our beans and rice Mardi Gras dinner in early March.

 

As we go forth today, let us remember that the same God who turned water into wine at Cana is at work in our lives, transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary, scarcity into plenty, and inviting us into the joyful feast of God’s kingdom. May we shine with the radiance of Christ’s glory, so that God’s abundant love may be known and shared to the ends of the earth. Amen.

 

Signs and Sinning

On Sunday we will hear the lengthy story of Jesus controversially healing a man born blind… on the Sabbath duh duh DUHHHHH!!! After Jesus has given sight to the man via a kind of Siloam spa mud treatment, the Pharisees get their fringes in a wad. Perhaps their frustration stems from the fact that Jesus’ healing work happened on a Saturday—the day of rest in the Jewish culture. BUT, what if these religious leaders were not really concerned with the day of the week or the sign itself? What if something else got in the way of them seeing God’s presence in Jesus’ work?

If one searches throughout John’s telling of the Good News one will not find mention of miracles, instead the Fourth Gospel refers to these profound acts as signs. Signs point in a direction. Signs show where to go. Signs are not themselves the destination, rather they lead to the end. Most signs on roadways, in stores, or guarding property do not care whether it is Tuesday or Sunday. They keep on working no matter the day of the week. Still, the Pharisees made a legitimate argument, Jesus had showed God’s healing power in this world on a day of the week restricted to resting.

Resting is a funny word though. Rest means something more than just doing nothing. Rest points to another word... restoration. Restoration has to do with healing and making one whole. In the first creation story in Genesis, God participated in a time of restoration once God manifested the whole of Creation, which signifies to humans a deep truth about the need for a time set aside to be made whole, just like the Creator. However, if someone has spent every day of his life wanting to be able to see, but lacking sight could he ever feel like he was whole? When something nags at me that I want to change I know I can feel restless. Jesus giving sight to the man born blind made him whole in a new way and fit in with the goal of Sabbath. Jesus' sign pointed to the deeper end of restoration and making all things fully restored. The Pharisees could not see it though, they were indeed blind, though not all of them.

Not all the Pharisees thought what Jesus did was abhorrent. In fact, the text for Sunday expresses, “They were divided.” Some believed that he was not from God because he ignored the traditional Sabbath practice of doing no work. Others though, wondered, “How can a man who is a sinner perform such signs?” This theological argument of the Pharisees raises a tricky question: Can only holy people perform signs of God?

The newly sighted man put it another way later in the story, “We know that God does not listen to sinners.” So that seems to be it, then. God only listens to people who listen to God and who do His will. End of story...

And yet, is that true? Does your own experience of God point to that? Does the rest of Holy Scripture even hold this up? If we answer yes to these questions, God may feel truly lonely up in heaven. As I put it when we read this passage in our staff meeting yesterday, God may be upstairs vacuuming with headphones in if this is the case. (Ann Stewart, our communications director added: Is the vacuum a Dirt Devil?) I cannot imagine a God who does not hear the earnest cry of a downtrodden, penitent sinner!

Maybe your theology, your experience, and your reading of Scripture differ from my own, but even in this story Jesus seems to stamp out the concept that God only listens to the sinless among us (whoever those people may be). “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s work might be revealed in him.” Some will avoid this loaded statement at all costs, but it helps me to see to what Christ Jesus came to point. Christ came to direct us towards and lead us into healing, restoration, and reconciliation. Those things we think of as problems in truth may very well be opportunities that exist, so that God may work in us. God provides us with signs that point us towards new ways of seeing, being healed, and living in Christ. Are we willing to look at them or will we be spiritually blind and miss them altogether?

Wonders and Signs

Wonders can be distracting from the signs that direct us.

John 4:43-54 inspires this homily.

A couple of weeks before I was ordained a priest (a little over a year ago) my sister Elin called to check in with me. Elin is my only sibling, eight years older than me. She is married to a wonderful man, they have three beautiful children, and she is an Episcopalian of the high church variety. When she and I get together we typically get into trouble. Our mother has actually forbid us from going to any future Ash Wednesday services together because one year right before my sister led the singing of the Psalm at that solemn liturgy, I said to her, “Remember you are but dust and to butt dust you shall return.” So when she called me to talk about my ordination, I hoped there was more to the call than just some questions about the service.

She asked me, “Well, what am I supposed to call you once you are ordained a priest?” Good Episcopalians like my sister call their priests either “Father” or “Mother.” I could hear my sister smiling through the phone, but I was not sure what she should call me. Then, she questioned, “Am I supposed to call you Father Brother?” I burst out laughing. She continues to call me Father Brother. Of course, the silliness of this encounter paled in comparison to what my mother said a couple of days later, “Well, I would like to call you Father Son.” “What?” I replied, “You are not going to call me that.” My mom continued, “Of course, it would be great if you could find a girl named Holy Spirit, then I could introduce you as, ‘Father Son’ and ‘Holy Spirit.’” When my family joked with me in this way I realized just like Jesus that ministers, like prophets have a hard go of it in their own country, within their own community, and especially with their own family.

It is not easy ministering to people who changed your diapers, washed your mouth out with soap, or picked fights with you over who got to ride shotgun. Someone asked me if I would ever want to go back to work at my home church. I immediately thought, “NO!” They may love me now, but what kind of expectations exist for home-grown ministers? Christ himself performed his deeds of power, taught ferociously, and showed signs of God in Galilee and Jerusalem rather than in his hometown of Nazareth.

So what? Are we supposed to escape from the foolishness of our youth by moving away from home so we can show how great we are to people who do not know us? Do we ignore the things that our children do that make us think of the Divine? Are we never to notice God’s presence in those who are right next to us?

We may struggle with seeing God in those closest to us for many reasons. We might think we know who she really is. We may believe that God could not possibly work through him. We could be holding astronomically high expectations for anyone and everyone who claims to be a servant of God.

Jesus said, “Unless you see signs and wonders you do not believe.” We can so easily fall into this trap of searching for signs and wonders from those around us and even more so from God. Maybe you have said prayers, as I have, like “Father, let my team win” or “God, help my enemy to change his mind” or even “Jesus, help me find my keys.” Our prayer life can devolve into directing God to do exactly what we want God to do. This is not praying though, this is demanding. Jesus says to us too, “Unless you see signs and wonders you do not believe.” Are we only interested in the wonders or are we looking where the signs are pointing?

A couple of years ago I began again a practice I had learned about during my time undergraduate studies at Sewanee. Almost every day I practice Centering Prayer. In Centering Prayer one rests in the presence of God dwelling in quiet for twenty minutes or so. The purpose is not getting rid of thoughts or pushing away any activity in one’s mind, but to familiarize ourselves with God’s first language of silence. We do not ask for anything. We just look within at where the signs are pointing. Our life of prayer and our Faith cannot hinge upon God answering all our prayers just as we think best. Rather, we must learn that God constantly speaks in and with us yearning to be in deeper relationship with us.

We can take our concerns to the Jesus as the royal official did, for Christ always listens. And yet, our Faith grows, as we learn not just to speak, but also to listen for God. The Divine is all around us in the people nearest and dearest to us AND in the people who we typically walk passed. Are you too busy looking for the wonders to see where the signs are pointing?