A Poem a Sunday
Epiphany II
January 17,2016

John 2:1-11 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

Commentary:  Imagine Judas at the wedding at Cana.  What might his reaction be to this 'Sign' which begins the ministry of Jesus?  A Poem a Sunday reflects on that question.

The Wedding at Cana

2 On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. 2 Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. 3 When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” 4 And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” 5 His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” 6 Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. 7 Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. 8 He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it. 9 When 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 10 and 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.” 11 Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.

A Poem a Sunday
January 17, 2016

The Sign for Judas

“Give us a sign
not water into wine.
We want God’s plan now
not some dreamy celebration!

A wedding, a guest,
that is not the way to arrest
the Empire’s power
which makes us restless.

Your hour is now!
How dare you wait
to unleash God’s judgment
at Jerusalem’s gates?

No room for celebrations,
quaint though they be.
You need to lead a brigade
and set your people free.

How can wedding and wine
be the sign when those
in oppression
are still left behind?

Water into wine
at Cana in Galilee?
Where will it lead
in this Prophet’s ministry?”

Copyright @A Poem a Sunday - January 12 - 2016 - Kenn Storck