Marriage Conflict
1The third day, there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there. 2Jesus also was invited, with his disciples, to the wedding. 3When the wine ran out, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no wine.” 4Jesus said to her, “Woman, what does that have to do with you and me? My hour has not yet come.” 5His mother said to the servants, “Whatever he says to you, do it.” 6Now there were six water pots of stone set there after the Jews’ way of purifying, containing two or three metretes apiece. 7Jesus said to them, “Fill the water pots with water.” So they filled them up to the brim. 8He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the ruler of the feast.” So they took it. 9When the ruler of the feast tasted the water now become wine, and didn’t know where it came from (but the servants who had drawn the water knew), the ruler of the feast called the bridegroom 10and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and when the guests have drunk freely, then that which is worse. You have kept the good wine until now!” 11This beginning of his signs Jesus did in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.
Jesus' first miracle happens at a wedding where things have gone wrong. The wine has run out — in that culture, a humiliation, the celebration collapsing in public view. Notice where he chooses to act for the first time: not at a deathbed or a battlefield, but inside a marriage's crisis moment. And notice how: quietly, using what was standing right there — six stone jars of plain water. Most marriages don't run out of love all at once; they run out of wine — the gladness, the ease, the celebration of each other. This story says that what has run dry is exactly the kind of thing Jesus takes an interest in, and that ordinary water, offered to him, can become something better than what you started with.
What has actually run out between you — and are you still asking for it to be refilled, or only assigning blame for the empty jars?
God, we are hurting each other, and I don't fully understand how we got here. The same argument keeps wearing a different coat. I am tired of my own defensiveness and tired of reading theirs. You went to a wedding when the wine ran out — so come to this marriage, because something has run out here too. Soften what has hardened in me first; I can only bring you my own jar. Give me the courage to say the true thing gently and to hear the hard thing without armour. And if there is better wine ahead of us than behind us, help us both stay for it. Amen.