In the previous chapter, John introduces us to the light in the darkness that is Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God, who will baptize with the Holy Spirit unlike the baptismal by water John the Baptist uses. Now John introduces the first of Jesus’ recorded miracles: turning water into wine in the wedding at Cana, like the New Covenant wine Jesus gives his disciples at the last supper in the other three Gospels.
Pondering, I was struck with how far Jesus and his mother, Mary, have come from the time of his birth, some thirty years earlier. Joseph, Mary’s husband, righteously planned to dismiss her quietly rather than disgrace her publicly because she was already pregnant before they lived together! The Virgin Mary and her child were already a disgrace to her family and to all Israel! Yet here they are invited to a wedding feast with no hint of disgrace from their friends or the community. They seem to be accepted and Jesus does not disappoint. He makes a good wine from the water for purification provided.
John then takes us to the Passover in Jerusalem, where Jesus, consumed with zeal for God’s house, the Temple, drives out all those who have made His Father’s house a marketplace. The Jews ask for a sign of authority for his doing this, to which Jesus says: “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” He speaks of the temple of his body; they think of the forty-six years it took to build the temple: Impossible!
Yet John says many believed in his name because they saw the signs he was doing during the Passover festival, even as Jesus’ disciples remembered after his resurrection and believed the Scripture and what Jesus had spoken. So how is it that John closes this second chapter by solidly condemning people’s hearts in his final two verses, reminiscent of Genesis 6:5-7, Psalm 95:10-11, or, perhaps Luke 18:8b? Do we truly so love the darkness rather than the light that we would hurt each other more readily than we would love one another?
Carlos Cavasos writes: I was born and raised Roman Catholic and was an altar boy for many years, along with my two younger brothers. As a teen, I pretty much left Catholicism, but still loved occasionally worshiping in packed cathedrals in big cities—even London’s Westminster where I could feel I was worshiping with far more than a remnant of believers. In Seattle, I was drawn time and again to Trinity Lutheran Church and became a Lutheran church member; still more Christian than Lutheran or Catholic even now that I worship in Advent Lutheran Church, Spindale.
To Consider
1. Take some time to think about it: can Jesus really entrust himself to you; have you allowed him to abide in you as you abide in him?
2. Looking at the neighbors around you, who is it upon whom you look down; who is already disgraced so that you give preferential treatment to others than to him or her?
Prayer
Heavenly Father, your love endures forever, overflowing with goodness and blessing for all your creation. You see our hearts are not always with you as your beloved Son saw on the cross that we know not what we do. Thank you that you so loved us while we were yet sinners, you sent Jesus, who gave the life of his being—body and blood—to atone for all the sin of the world. Abba, you are perfect and trustworthy. Let your Word be as a radiant light in our hearts, reviving our souls with a love for you that is ever true and faithful—one that overflows to all, not just some, of our neighbors. Amen.