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This homily was prepared for and preached at the wedding in Norfolk, Virginia, of Kathryn Johnson and David Cameron, both ordained Presbyterian ministers.

There is an imaginary retelling of the biblical story suggesting why the wine failed and how Jesus intervened in the situation.

A parallel is suggested between the joy of the wedding in Cana and the present one in Norfolk. The failure of the wine is taken as looking to the future with a sense of the reality of relationships. The high romance of the wedding day is not likely to last for the long haul. But if there is a commitment to Jesus Christ on the part of bride and groom they may discover in later years that their joy and love is deeper and stronger than it was at the beginning. They may well find that they have saved the best wine until last.



Of course, I do not know why the wine ran out at the marriage feast at Cana in Galilee, but I can hazard a guess.

Do you suppose that when they were planning that wedding all the principals said to each other, "Now, we are going to keep this simple. We aren't going to plan anything too elaborate, and we are going to keep the guest list to the wedding feast down to a manageable size - just family and the very closest friends."

But inevitably as the time drew nearer things began to get out of hand a little. The guest list which was going to be kept small with strict and ruthless discipline began to grow.

Perhaps the groom's mother said, "You know, I really would like for you to invite Mary of Nazareth. She and I have been such good friends since we ..."

"Well, yes," the groom replied. "I think it would be nice for her to come. I'd like to have her here. I remember how she used to bring me fig cakes when I was a kid."

Then another relative spoke up and said, "Yes, but to invite Mary does present another problem. We can hardly invite her without asking her son, Jesus. After all, he has been making something of a name for himself lately. If we invited Mary and did not invite her son it might look as if we were deliberately slighting him."

And another said, "But you know he hardly ever goes anywhere alone. He has a bunch of disciples who seem to follow him everywhere. If we invite Jesus I'm sure his disciples will come, too. And we have no idea how many of them there might be."

So the guest list grew, and the plans for the wedding feast were expanded. It was a festive and joyous occasion, as most weddings are and should be. A high moment of excitement, a time of intense anticipation. The marking of a new beginning for two lives joined in love and commitment.

Therefore, celebration was appropriate, and the providers of the feast did all they could to make it a time of joy, of conviviality, of laughter, of lighthearted happiness. Among other things they provided wine, good wine - and surely in abundance enough for any reasonable use.

But what with all the extra guests and some miscalculations about how thirsty the crowd would be, the wine failed before the celebration was over. The supply ran out. In spite of all their careful planning, their resources were not enough for the occasion. When the wine failed the feast was in danger of dampening down into a subdued and grumbling gathering from which dissatisfied guests would begin to drift away, leaving an embarrassed and questioning couple.

But at this marriage feast there was a particular guest. He may have been among those who we have imagined swelled the guest list beyond the expected. At any rate, his presence proved to make a surprising and mysterious difference when the wine failed.

The gathered company had not yet become aware of the crisis. But his insightful and concerned mother called his attention to it. He did not disrupt the festivities to reassure the guests - or the host - not to worry, that everything would be all right. He did not announce that he was about to perform a miracle. With quiet authority he gave a few orders. Six stone jars, each holding at least twenty gallons, were filled with water - plain, clear, ordinary water. From one of the jars a chalice was filled and taken to the steward of the feast. The steward tasted the cup with delightful surprise. His face lit up with wonder.

I suspect that the bridegroom was not a little puzzled when the laughing steward clapped him on the shoulder and said, "You rascal! You wait until all have drunk their fill - and then you bring out this incredibly invigorating wine. You have kept the good wine until now."

And the steward and the bridegroom both would have been aghast if they had known that there still were about 120 gallons of that rare vintage left over. I wonder if the guests found out that all those tall stone jars were full of wine better than they had ever tasted before. If they did find out, I wonder how long that marriage feast lasted.

We tend to think of this familiar story of the marriage feast when the wine failed and a miracle took place as a unique and unusual event - and indeed it was. For the Gospel of John is at pains to make it plain that in this story Jesus Christ manifested his glory, and that it was a basis of faith and belief for his disciples. In some way, then, the very glory of God was revealed at the marriage feast at Cana in the person and deed of Jesus.

But in another sense, this story reflects what happens - or can happen - with marriages.

The wedding day is a time well planned, meticulously prepared for, abundantly provided for to assure a perfect day, a day that is image of, prelude to, and preparation for a perfect blending of two lives for an indefinite and unruffled future.

The expected wine provided by the host is symbol of the happiness, the high hopes, the excitement, the exhilaration of this particular, special day. But inevitably that wine fails. The immediate supply of exquisite joy diminishes. It begins to fade as life settles back into routine and regularity; as the bride and groom take up again their daily tasks, add some responsibilities to those already theirs, and find that marriage has not removed all the drudgery and frustration from daily toil; as they discover foibles, peculiarities, irritations in each other that had remained well hidden or cleverly disguised, or which they had failed to see with prenuptial starry eyes. There is always the possibility that the wedding feast will come to an end before its time.

But a miracle can happen if that marriage has been made in the presence of and with openness to the transforming power of Jesus Christ. Quite surprisingly he can take the overabundance of ordinary, routine days and make them better and more invigorating than any marriage feast has ever been. Quietly, without sounding a trumpet before him, Jesus turned plain, ordinary water into an abundance of the very best wine. Trust him, then, to transform all those ordinary tomorrows into the very best of times.

One way the glory is manifested in Jesus Christ is that he comes into and shares with us the significant moments of our lives, such as being a guest at a marriage at Cana in Galilee - or in Norfolk in Virginia. But even more remarkable is that he is God with us in the long haul, in the ongoingness of human existence, and that he is there to make all things new when the wine fails.

I am sure that Kathryn and David will forever cherish the memories of this joyful day, and that they are grateful for all that has been done to make it so. But because they have committed their lives not only to each other but also to Jesus Christ, let them look ahead with confidence to many a day in the future which could hardly be called remarkable - except for this: that at the close of some of those days they will look at each other, perhaps take each other by the hand as they soon will do in this ceremony, and with a mischievous twinkle in their eyes and the lilt of surprise and gratitude in their voices say to each other, "You have kept the best wine until now."