Stepping Past Plan A--January 20, 2025

Stepping Past Plan A--January 20, 2025

"On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, 'They have no wine.' And Jesus said to her, 'Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.' His mother said to the servants, 'Do whatever he tells you.' Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, 'Fill the jars with water.' And they filled them up to the brim...." (John 2:1-7)

One of the things that gives me hope on the days I am struggling in this life of faith is the assurance that Jesus never calls us to do something he isn't already willing to do--and in fact, that he has done first. That's an especially needed encouragement in a season like this one as we are focusing on "life on the edge... of our comfort zones," because, well, because I'm so often afraid. We are fearful of going out beyond our comfort zones--and yet Jesus himself did the same first.  This story, which many of us heard in worship on Sunday, is evidence of that.

I know it might sound strange to our ears--Jesus, had to be coaxed out of his comfort zones?  Jesus had to do something he didn't seem ready to do at first?  Really? That somehow doesn't seem right, does it?

And of course, most of the time, Jesus does seem to be completely at ease and in control of what he does and when.  Most of the time Jesus seems to walk into situations knowing exactly what he intends to do or with whom he'll talk, and it's everyone else who is left surprised or awestruck.  But this scene from the beginning of John's Gospel has a different feel to it, doesn't it?  It's Jesus who has to deal with an unexpected situation, and it's Jesus who has to decide ultimately if he will insist on keeping with the original timeline of Plan A... or if he will let himself respond to someone else's need and figure out a Plan B on the fly.  Let it sink in for a moment just what it means that Jesus--the Incarnate Word of God whose coming was the fulfillment of centuries of hoping and the result of infinitely complex timing--decides ultimately to improvise and come up with a Plan B.

That's really what's going on here.  When Jesus' mother alerts him to the situation--that the newlyweds have run out of wine at their wedding celebration, and they will be utterly put to shame if the secret gets out--at first, Jesus' response seems rather cold.  "What is that to you and to me?" he asks in reply.  In other words, helping produce wine for a party doesn't seem to be what Jesus had planned for the evening.

But on second thought, let's consider why Jesus might not be looking to start his public ministry by becoming known as "the guy with the wine trick."  For one, this is not a life or death situation.  There will be times when Jesus takes the initiative to help people or to heal them, and there will be times when action is urgent.  But this is not about saving life.  You wouldn't ask a new resident ER physician to help you buy a keg for a tailgate party or your high school reunion, would you? No, my guess is that you would know that while an ER doctor might be a lovely person, it's not really their "thing" to score you free booze in large quantities.  And you can see why Jesus might think that this is not a wise precedent, as well.  If Jesus helps this couple out, is he now obligated to provide cases of Merlot for every young bride and groom in Galilee for the foreseeable future?  Is he on the hook for making ice cream sundaes at his second-cousin Jacob's bar mitzvah in two weeks?  Is he derailed from his mission to become the Free Caterer of Galilee?  You can understand why Jesus wouldn't want to be put in that position, or in the difficult position of having to say to somebody else, "Sorry, I don't do that sort of thing anymore."  Once you open that door, it's hard to get it closed again.

And deeper than that is a second reality. Jesus says to his mother that his "hour" has not yet come.  Throughout John's gospel, that's a sort of shorthand for the timetable that takes Jesus to the cross.  Later on, when an angry crowd wants to string Jesus up, he is able to pass right through their midst, because "his hour had not yet come." But later, when he knows that it is at last time to head to Jerusalem and the cross waiting for him there, he says, "Now my hour has come."  In other words, Jesus has a sense that once he begins his public ministry, the sand starts slipping out of the hourglass, counting down to his own death--as well as heartbreak for his mother, who will end up being there at the foot of the cross when it happens.  So here at the beginning of it all, at the wedding in Cana, you can almost hear in Jesus' voice a hesitancy for her sake. It's almost like he's saying, "Mom, you know that if I help out now, and if I launch my public ministry right now, it starts the clock running out on my time with you, too.  There is heartbreak waiting for both of us there, and you're asking me to start racing toward it when we would have had a little more time together otherwise."  You almost get the sense that Jesus sees how much more is at stake than just one wedding banquet running out of wine.  And I think I can at least understand why Jesus would have decided that Plan A was not to do anything about the wine.

And all of that, as reasonable and sensible as it is, is also why I find it amazing that Jesus is willing to let his mother persuade him to change his planned course of action and pull him out of his comfort zone to help the couple with their wedding reception. For all of his good, well-thought-out reasons to keep a low profile at the wedding reception while the DJ played Cha-Cha Slide and the Macarena, Jesus was ultimately willing to step in and help spare a couple some embarrassment and to make their wedding joyful.  It wasn't a life-or-death situation, granted; but it was a moment when compassion was called for.  And Jesus answers.  That matters.

Like I say, it is an encouragement to me when I am being pushed out of my comfort zones for the sake of my faith to remember that Jesus, too, was willing to be led out beyond his comfort zones, too, in a manner of speaking. He was willing to set aside Plan A and to figure out Plan B on the spot, for the sake of compassion--even when it wasn't a matter of someone's life being in danger.  Life is going to send those kinds of situations at all of us, and in those times, there is something terribly powerful in the impulse to stay where we are comfortable and not stick our necks out.  There are going to be times when it's easier to keep our heads down, not to step up and help, not to take the risk, and not to deviate from our planned itinerary for the day.  I know, and obviously, so does Jesus.  But Jesus also shows us what can come from being willing to let love lead us outward, beyond what was comfortable and on the schedule, to what the need of the day is.

You and I won't always be able to fix or help or make things better in every situation that comes our way.  But we don't have to let fear or inertia keep us from showing up in those situations where we can do something.  Jesus allows himself to go beyond his plans and into something new in this moment, and it made a difference for that couple. Maybe we can keep our eyes and ears open in a new day, too, and let compassion--and the nudgings of the Spirit!--lead us beyond our comfort zones to the places we can offer help to someone in a way we never expected, too.

Lord Jesus, give us the courage like you to be willing to step beyond our Plan A framework when you are leading us into something new.