Second Sunday after Epiphany

​Rev. Shemwell
John 2:1-11
1/14/24

Homily for the Second Sunday after Epiphany

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Dear
brothers and sisters in our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, so last week I told you all
about my love for the feast day of Epiphany and this entire season of the church year.
And one of the things I really love so much about this season is this morning’s
reading: John chapter 2 on the miracle at Cana – one of my favorite passages in the
entire Bible. Now as I shared with you last Sunday, Epiphany is all about the
manifestation of God’s salvation in Christ for the Gentile world in particular. And
today we get a reading from John’s gospel, which, much like Luke’s gospel, was
written very much with the Gentile reader in mind. And this reading from John 2 is
perfect proof that not only did the Messiah come to rescue both Jew and Gentile, but
that He furthermore came to fulfill the hopes and expectations of both Jews and
Gentiles. I think in our lives as Christians we have probably heard many sermons on
how our Lord came as the clear fulfillment of the biblical prophesies and as the
promised Messiah for God’s chosen Israel. I sure hope we have. And so today, amid
this season of Epiphany, I want to focus instead on how Christ moreover came in
fulfilment of Gentile hopes and expectations. We don’t talk as much about this in our
church, but it is an incredibly important topic, if you ask me. And today’s lesson has
everything to do with it.

2
Now I am sure we have all come across plenty of different interpretations of the
narrative of the miracle at Cana. We know the story, right? The wedding feast is going
on for days on end. But the partiers eventually run out of wine. So Mother Mary asks
her Son Jesus to help and He agrees. He then turns some large stone water jugs into
approximately one thousand bottles of an otherworldly wine, which the master of
ceremonies then tastes and greatly delights in. And thus, the party goes on and the
proverbial buzz continues. And in John’s Gospel, this is presented as our Lord’s very
first miracle. And it is indeed miraculous. Anybody would probably think so. No
matter your ethnic or religious background, turning that many gallons of water into
premium wine is a wondrous feat. We aren’t just talking about Yellow Tail here – this
was the primo-good stuff. Any Jew would surely have been impressed. But here’s the
thing: any Gentile would have been equally impressed and intrigued as well,
especially a Gentile coming from the dominant Greco-Roman culture of the day – a
Gentile kind of like the ones John probably had in mind when he wrote his gospel.
But what do I mean? Well, have any of you ever heard of the Greek god
Dionysus? He was one of the chief gods in the ancient Greek mythological pantheon
of deities, the son of Zeus. And Dionysus, as the story goes, was a bit of a wild card
and a wild god. He was considered the god of wine, of merrymaking, the patron of
partying, in short, the deity of debauchery. When Dionysus came, he always brought
with him much wine. And so, Dionysian festivals in antiquity involved a great deal of
drunkenness and libertine revelry. And perhaps understandably from the standpoint of
sinful human nature, Dionysus was a favored god among the Greeks. People liked
Dionysus back then. He was popular.

3
He could be rough around the edges, kind of unpredictable and at times terrifying, but
also, people liked to have fun and party in their cultural immaturity, so they had a
fondness for this crazy god Dionysus. He was a good-time god, you could say.
And even though we look back on the cult of Dionysus and regard its excesses
as shameful and altogether sinful, and rightly so, his cult did still nevertheless
represent a kernel of a rather powerful religious truth. And that is this: mankind longs
and is eager not just for salvation and life in the hereafter, but for an abundance of life
in the here and now. Mankind is anxious for a god who shares his grace lavishly and
presently. And on top of that, the Dionysian religion pointed to a similar significant
truth: that salvation is not solely reserved for the life to come, but it is meant to spill
over liberally onto current life as well, into creation here and now.
Unfortunately, as St. Paul tells us in the very first chapter of his letter to the
Romans, the pagan Gentile world, by rejecting the true God from ages ago, they were
in turn and over time handed over to their own lusts, to their depraved mind and
uncleanness and their sinful desires. And as Paul informs us, that pagan world then
began to worship the creature rather than the Creator. They made idols out of created
things instead of worshipping the hidden God of creation, the Creator Himself. That
was their sad fate. And so unsurprisingly, the cult of Dionysus, like all pagan cults
throughout history, was excessive and debauched, overindulgent and depraved.

4
Yet Paul also tells us in Acts chapter 14 that God did not leave the peoples of
the world without a witness. None of them. They were all left a witness of some sort.
And despite the clear bastardization and excesses of the Dionysian cult, some slight
religious truth about the hidden God nonetheless peered through all the ugly mess and
idol worship. Enough truth about the coming universal salvation was still discernible
in the Greco-Roman myths to keep a hope alive and a longing aflame in the Gentile
heart – a hope and longing for a real savior, for a true myth, for something so much
better than what they had shamefully settled for, for the living, breathing God of all
creation. Yes, these pagan myths were lies, they were re-formed by Satan. However,
by the grace of God, enough truth from the beginning, from before the flood, from
before the fall even, remained and slipped through these mythological fictions to keep
the Gentile world eager for real redemption. Even in their pagan lies lay some small
truth.
And John’s gospel is proof that Christ did come as the fulfillment of both
Jewish and Gentile hope, Israelite and pagan longing. Today we see it in the miracle
at Cana. St. John was well aware of the Greco-Roman myths when he wrote his
gospel. He was a learned man living in a Hellenized world. And all this knowledge
looms in the background of his gospel, if only one takes the time to recognize it. He
knew how a Greek audience would have responded to this first miracle at Cana. In the
narrative, Jesus Christ is portrayed as the true wine-bringer, the one who provides for
life in overabundance.

5
And in John chapter 15, Jesus explicitly refers to Himself as the “true vine.” He
comes not only to bring life, but indeed an excess of life. He takes water, the source of
life itself, a basic fundamental necessity for survival, and He turns it into something
lavish and opulent, something exorbitant and extra. He takes a need and uses it to
satisfy a human want. His grace flows over from ordinary sustenance into sheer
satisfaction, not altogether unlike the fictional god Dionysus supposedly did. But the
great apparent difference is, this Christ, this God actually lives. Jesus was a real being,
God-made-man, He is a real flesh and blood and bone person. In the words of C.S.
Lewis, Jesus Christ is the true myth. He further fulfilled the longings perpetuated
through the mythologies of old, from across cultures, but He did so in human and
historical form. Greeks would have heard this miraculous narrative of Cana and would
have recognized in it the answer to their own prayers as well. They would have seen
in this story the consummation of their own deepest spiritual yearning. And so some
did. We know that for a fact, because John more or less tells us so.
Further on in John chapter 12 we are informed that sometime later there were a
handful of Greeks who had come to Jerusalem to observe the Jewish Passover.
Remember this story? Well as a reminder, the text reads – John 12: “And so the
Greeks then came to Philip, and they asked him, saying, ‘Sir, we wish to see Jesus.’
So Philip came and told Andrew, and in turn Andrew and Philip told Jesus. But Jesus
answered them, saying, ‘The hour has come that the Son of Man should be glorified.
Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it
remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain.’” Here ends the gospel narrative.

6
So in this passage, Andrew and Philip come to Jesus to tell Him about some
Greek visitors outside the temple walls who have heard about Jesus’ miracles and
long to meet with Him. And in response to this curious news, instead of actually
meeting with those Greeks, Jesus gives His disciples a short message to relay to them
on His behalf. And that message is this: “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground
and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain.” Now that might
seem like a strange and mysterious and awfully brusque reply to offer some unknown
people eagerly desiring to meet with you. It is a kind of an unusual, enigmatic
message. It meaning isn’t intuitive or overly evident. But that’s nevertheless what our
Lord said to them, through His messengers. And you know, it only seems peculiar to
us now because we are not first century Greeks – we are not the original audience for
this message. But no, to their Greek ears, this saying would have actually made
perfect sense – it would have been the ideal answer to hear, in fact, the best possible
news to receive.
John shows us that Gentiles not only sought out Jesus after presumably hearing
about the miracle at Cana, for instance, but that they even received confirmation for
what they had sought. But now what do I mean? Well, Dionysus was not the only
deity in the Greek pantheon. Another chief deity was Persephone, a goddess of
agriculture and the daughter of Zeus and his occasional consort, Demeter, who was
herself the primary goddess of the harvest season. And Persephone was the goddess of
grain – that was her symbol.

7
So in the ancient myths, the god Hades, king of the underworld, he at some point
abducts Persephone and forces her to be his wife and, as the myth goes, he even
seduces her into eating the seeds of a fateful pomegranate fruit, a most consequential
decision on her part (it is almost as if this myth is a broken, warped genetic memory
from the garden).
Well because of her eating of this forbidden seed, so to speak, it’s then decided
between her father, Zeus, the main god, and her new involuntary husband, Hades, that
Persephone would be forced to spend part of the year in the company of her seducer
and spouse in the underworld. However, during the rest of the year, Persephone would
be allowed to return home to her mother above ground, again to Demeter, the goddess
of the harvest. Now that part of the year when she was permitted to come home was
understood to be springtime – when Demeter, her mother, as the principal harvest
deity, was happy and whole and bursting forth with joy at her daughter’s return – and
abundant with fruit and vegetation of the earth. Yet during that time of year when her
daughter was down below with Hades, Demeter would not let the earth flourish at all,
but instead she would mourn greatly for her daughter, with the earth laying fallow as a
result. That time of year was clearly winter, right? And so, for the Greeks who
worshipped these goddesses, Persephone’s return aboveground and springtime was
understood as a sort of divine homecoming and even a resurrection of sorts of the
earth itself – a return to life and abundancy and fruition.

8
And since the festival these Greeks in John 12 were attending was the Jewish
Passover, a festival which always occurs in the springtime—just like Easter for
us—they would have been particularly sensitive at that time to any implied mention of
their own springtime religious traditions.
And according to John 12, Jesus responds to these Greek visitors by alluding to
His own coming death and resurrection—the grain of wheat that falls to the ground
and dies—and He does so in this language that would obviously remind them of their
own myths. But why would He do that? Well, if you ask me, it is because Christ came
as the fulfillment of both Jewish and Gentile longing. He came to fulfill the hopes of
both God’s chosen Israel and the entire fallen world. Perhaps in the ancient
Persephone cult, some grain of truth remained from the early days after fall after all.
God would have to descend into hell, into the underworld below, in order to bring
forth resurrection and fruition of life above. This truth about divine sacrifice and a
hellish descent below became confused in the pagan world, it was made ugly over the
millennia, to be sure. But in John 12, Jesus nonetheless uses this precise imagery in
order to point these Greeks to His own fate and sacrifice and its gracious benefits for
them as well. What Jesus was saying to those Greeks through Andrew and Philip in
John 12 was not snappy or dismissive in the least. Rather He was saying: “Yes, I have
come for you, too. What you have heard of at Cana is true. I am also the fulfillment of
your hopes for springtime, of your dreams for salvation and resurrection. I am the true
myth. Forsake your false idols and devilish deities now and believe instead in Me, the
one Who comes to replace and abolish them all.”

9
So what is my point with all this? Well, I personally believe in John’s gospel
we see that Christ our Lord came as the supersession of pagan mythology. Which is to
say, He came to replace the false gods of a confused world, indeed to overthrow and
override them, to definitively supplant those eternally useless fictions. For He is the
true wine-bringer, He is the true sacrifice to the underworld Who brings forth
resurrection. The Greeks were worshipping mere idols, they were worshipping
creation rather than their Creator, as Paul says. Without the Word of God, without His
revelation to guide them, the Gentile world had become lost in its own distortions of
religious truth. But a witness remained regardless. And Jesus came for the lost sheep
as well, did He not? He came as the fulfillment of their expectations, too. He came as
their personal Savior. He came as their true myth, as the one, true God. His miracle at
Cana was specifically for the Gentile audience. That’s my reading, anyhow. His
words in John 12 to the Greeks were for the entire Gentile world. God became man
for all men and women. And in the resurrected Christ, there is neither Jew nor Greek
anymore. All are equally saved in Him. All are united in Him. There is no more room
for identity politics.
But what does all this mean for us today? Well, for starters, whenever you read
Scripture as a so-called Gentile, don’t ever feel like a spectator. Ethnicity does not
matter anymore. Not one bit. These scriptures are ours and they are meant for us.
These true stories are our stories, they belong to us no matter our backgrounds. That’s
what Epiphany is all about! Jesus is the Savior of all peoples. There is no more Jew or
Gentile in the eyes of God. The church is God’s chosen Israel from here on out. God
condescended to be born of the Jewish virgin to redeem us all equally.

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But also, I think emphasizing Christ’s fulfillment of Gentile longing in
particular demonstrates for us a truth we sometimes may lose sight of. And that is this:
Christ is our eternal salvation, without question. However, that salvation we have in
Christ, thanks be to God, it often pours over from eternity right onto the present
moment as well. The kingdom of glory overflows and runs over into the kingdom of
grace. Our redemption is not reserved for the life to come alone – way far in the
future. Instead, it is also playing out here and now. God provides not solely for our
basic eternal needs. But He moreover provides for our current overabundance. And
He does so here in creation. Creation is not hopelessly evil. Rather, in light of the
Incarnation of our Lord, in light of His epiphany, in light of His life, death, and
resurrection, creation has become a vehicle for our salvation. Christ and the Holy
Spirit save us in space and time through physical things, through the tangible means
of grace. And they even do so through both water, the very basis of life, and wine, a
symbol of the pure excess of life. A cup of life that runneth over!
The pagan Gentile longing of antiquity was characterized by the emphasis it
placed on the present life, on an affirmation of this world, on an appreciation this
creation right here. Regrettably, that emphasis and appreciation eventually became
gross idolatrous worship, as Paul tells us. It became corrupted. But there was still
some truth in that stress laid. There is a balance to be struck here. This world is
passing away, yes. And yet, God saves us in it, and through it, and provides lavishly
for us within it.

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No we should not cling to this life. Jesus goes on to say in John 12: “Whoever loves
his life will lose it, but whoever does not cling to his life will keep it for eternal life.”
We are not to place our hopes in this life alone. Our truest hope lies in the next.
At the same time, however, neither are we to detest and despise or bemoan this
life. We are not supposed to reject this creation and deprive ourselves of God’s good
gifts for us within it. This world and the next one need not be entirely opposed in the
life of the Christian. And yet, sometimes, some man-made teaching in the church sure
starts to sound an awful lot like hatred of this life. But how do any who teach that way
handle John 2? How do they read the miracle at Cana? God turns water, a necessity
for life, into an intoxicant, an inebriant, a means for a surplus of life and cheer. God
wants us to enjoy this creation, He wants us to delight in this life He has given us. We
are to appreciate the gifts of the earth, the springtime, the fruits of this life, the
figurative fruit of the vine. And yes, we are to have fun even, according to God’s
Word and will. Gentiles were arguably, on occasion at least, better at appreciating that
fact, for better or worse. And so, I sincerely pray that some small Gentile wisdom
might continue to carry over to the present day in the new Israel, the holy Christian
church.
Brothers and sisters, Epiphany is all about the Lord’s salvation for all people,
for Jew and Gentile. He is revealed to all of us, and saves us each by grace through
faith. And this Second Sunday of Epiphany, we are provided the miracle at Cana,
where God liberally pours the red wine of His love and grace upon us undeserving
sinners.

12
Christ is the fulfillment of our eternal hopes and the fulfillment of our immediate
earthly desires, too. He feeds us even in this life, He gives us drink even in this
creation, even this side of heaven. Our souls are saved for eternity by water and the
Word, by the basis of life, H 2 0, and God’s inspired Word spoken over it in Holy
Baptism. That secures us for the life to come.
And yet also, even in this life, right here, right now, God strengthens that
saving faith and our mortal bodies through an overabundance of life. He strengthens
our faith through the fruit of the vine. We do not need wine, but He gives it to us
anyways, and implores us to take and drink, as we are able. He is the true wine-
bringer. And this day, He abides in this wine which He has brought, His blood once
shed is sacramentally united to the fruit of the vine at this altar. And He comes for
you, for both Gentile and Jew. For whoever longs for Him. He comes for all Who
believe in His name. He comes to forgive and rescue you, to lift you up, to give you
mirth and merriment and to fulfill your deepest longings for meaning and purpose and
life now and without end. Having been buried in the earth below and having sprung
forth again Himself like bounteous grain, He brings you His resurrection and an
eternal spring through the tiny grainy host at this rail. So come and taste and see, dear
flock. Come this day and taste for yourself of the true myth, of the fulfillment of all
genuine human hope, come taste God-made-man in this soon-ready meal. In the most
holy name of our one, true God – in Jesus’ name. Amen.