Risky Love

Second Sunday after Epiphany
January 20, 2013

For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent,
and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest,
until her vindication shines out like the dawn,
and her salvation like a burning torch.
²The nations shall see your vindication,
and all the kings your glory;
and you shall be called by a new name
that the mouth of the LORD will give.
³You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the LORD,
and a royal diadem in the hand of your God.
⁴You shall no more be termed Forsaken, 
and your land shall no more be termed Desolate; 
but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, 
and your land Married; 
for the LORD delights in you,
and your land shall be married.
⁵For as a young man marries a young woman,
so shall your builder marry you,
and as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride,
so shall your God rejoice over you. – Isaiah 62:1-5

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. ²Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. ³When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” ⁴And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” ⁵His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” ⁶Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. ⁷Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. ⁸He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it. ⁹When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom ¹⁰and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.” ¹¹Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him. – John 2:1-11

Try to remember the last wedding you attended. Maybe it was for a friend or a family member. Maybe you just attended as a guest or maybe you had an important part. Maybe it was even your own. What stood out to you about the wedding? Was it something about the way the decorations came together perfectly, or was it something that left you feeling uneasy? What did the wedding bring to mind for you? Was it thoughts about the couple making vows to one another, or was it something in your own life, your own relationships that permeated your thoughts that day?

You wonder what it was like for the couple getting married in Cana. Did the couple know each other well or was this arranged by their families? Was everyone getting along or were there underlying tensions in this multi-day feast? Had they already had a long, heated conversation about how much wine was needed before the moment when it ran out? No matter what the experience at that wedding or any wedding, there are always significant risks involved in getting married. And running out of wine, no matter how culturally significant in Jesus’ time, was the least of those risks.

The couple has taken significant risk just to make it to that point. The risk of first beginning to date, the risk of sharing their love, the risk of opening themselves up to one another. And then the decision to get married. It’s a risky thing to do these days with staggering statistics of divorce and domestic violence. Even if you have the best relationship, one that lasts a lifetime, I haven’t met a couple yet who hasn’t had a difficult time or two. Even if everything goes smoothly, it’s still a risk, because in most cases, sooner or later, one partner must experience the loss of the other.

When we enter into relationship with anyone, whether romantically or otherwise, it requires risk. It requires us to open ourselves to being hurt or disappointed along with being filled with joy and excitement. We shouldn’t ever take it lightly, but we also can’t plan for every eventuality.

In these Sundays after Epiphany, when we read the stories of Jesus beginning to reveal himself and his kingdom, feels a little to me like dating. We met Jesus when he appeared at Christmas as an infant and as a boy in the temple. Now, with these stories of Jesus coming into his ministry we are in the getting-to-know-you stage, figuring out if this is a partnership that will work. Is this miracle worker the one for us?

In today’s reading from Isaiah God speaks these beautiful words to the people of Israel: “… as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you.” Given the struggles of marriage – the broken relationships around us, the horrifying prevalence of domestic violence, the infidelity that is commonly reported about our celebrities and about our friends – it makes me question the image of God as bridegroom. Even if God holds up God’s end of the bargain, is it safe to take the risk of relationship? Is it worth the potential hurt and disillusionment when things don’t go as we expect? If life isn’t going to be perfect after God proclaims God’s love for us, is it really worth the risk?

Yet it is that risk of profound grief and sadness that makes the image of God as bridegroom so incredible. Because whether we are ready to plunge into this or not, God has taken that incredible risk. God is the bridegroom who risks loving even at the possibility of rejection. God is the bridegroom who risks loving even with the assurance that the beloved will die. We do not know how and when we will let one another down. We do not know how and when we experience tragedy and death. But God knows that each of us will mess up and let God down. Each of us will experience profound pain, and ultimately death. And still God takes delight in us. God still comes to love us unconditionally. God still commits to share our pain along with our joy. We have a God who risked creating the world in the knowledge that the created ones would rebel. We have a God who risked entering into a covenant with the people of Israel to bring them to the promised land knowing they would wander and disobey. We have a God risked loving the people who have been victims of gun violence. God has taken that risk with people in Syria who are hungry and dying. God has taken that risk with victims of natural disasters. We have a God who came into the world as a human being, knowing that to express the divine love for the world would result in death on the cross. We have a God who took the risk, and who still day after day takes the risk over and over again to love us – to love you and to love me – like a bridegroom.

This is not the cliché that says, “It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” We could debate that merits of that sentiment, I’m sure, but God’s statement to Israel and to us is so much more profound. God’s commitment is more than any human husband or wife can accomplish. God’s promise to us in Isaiah is this: “For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest, until her vindication shines out like the dawn, and her salvation like a burning torch.” Our promise is that God, through Jesus, took on the risk of death and also triumphed in resurrection.

But what do we do in the meantime? What do we do when the wine runs out? What do we do with our broken and imperfect human relationships – marriages, and friendships, and families, and congregations? We hope and trust. We pray for an end to suffering. We seek to be God’s hands in the world around us, reaching out with tangible support – money, food, clothing, shelter. We pray for the healing of human relationships, we pray for those couples we see get married that we know will face some kind of hardship before it is all over, and we seek to be God’s hands in the world, supporting each other in what are often difficult circumstances.

And to strengthen us in our hope and our journey, God provides for us a foretaste of the great wedding banquet. Here in this place we feast on bread and wine. We feast with the saints of God, not on the bad wine, but on the best wine, on the wine that Jesus transforms into himself – with the people close to us who are suffering and grieving, and with suffering people far away that we will never meet, and with all those who are at rest with the bridegroom. We feast as one people, bound together by God’s risky love.

In this wedding meal, and in our lives, know that God has made a sure and certain promise to you and to me. A promise to stop at nothing until we are safe. A promise to walk with us through hardship and through death. A promise to walk down the aisle with us, God’s most precious beloved ones, into life forever. Amen.

-Pastor Steven Wilco