You’ve been there. The joyful chaos of it all. The tension between perfect plans and imperfect people. The Pinterest dreams colliding with the reality of uncles who dance like Elaine from Seinfeld and kids sneaking frosting off the cake before anyone’s cut a slice. Weddings are messy and beautiful all at once.
But what happens when the wedding hits a snag? When the music stops mid-dance or the caterer forgets the appetizers? Or worse, when the wine runs out?
That’s where we meet Jesus today. At a wedding party in Cana. And let’s be honest—it’s a strange place for Jesus to kick off his public ministry. No sermons, no healings, no casting out demons. Just a wedding. A party. And a very big problem for the bridegroom and his family: no wine.
But let’s pause for a second because we need to name something here.
For some, wine is not a symbol of joy or celebration. For some, it’s a reminder of pain, struggle, or addiction. And that’s real. We’re not here to gloss over that or diminish the courage it takes to make a different choice about alcohol, whether it’s for yourself or out of love for someone else.
So let me be clear—this story is not about the wine. It’s not about alcohol at all.
It’s about transformation. It’s about what Jesus is doing.
And what’s happening here is bigger than wine at a party.
Matthew, Mark, and Luke describe events similar to what Jesus did at Cana as “miracles.” John on the other hand refers to these events as “signs.”[i] And John’s Gospel isn’t just a collection of Jesus’ greatest hits. It’s intentionally arranged around seven signs. Seven, the number of completeness in Scripture. This first sign, the water turned to wine, points to the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.
Signs, as you know, point to something bigger. That’s why this story is part of the Season of Epiphany—a season of revelations, of light breaking into the world, of glimpses of God’s glory made known in Jesus. In this story, the water turned to wine is not just a party-saving miracle—it’s an epiphany, a sign pointing to who Jesus is and what He’s come to do.
The prophet Isaiah saw it coming. Seven centuries before Jesus, Isaiah looked at the human condition—the funeral that awaits us all—and called it a shroud cast over all people, a sheet pulled over all nations. But Isaiah also saw something else. He saw a day when Yahweh would intervene. A day when God would “swallow up death forever,” when tears would be wiped from every face. And on that day, Isaiah says, the end won’t look like a funeral—it’ll look like a feast.[ii]
John wants us to see that Jesus is the one Isaiah was pointing to. At Cana, the water turned into wine isn’t just a party-saving miracle. It’s a sign. A sign that in Jesus, God is beginning the work that will end in a feast, not a funeral. A sign that in Him, God’s restoration has begun—and death will be swallowed up forever.
So, let’s take a closer look—not just at the wine, but at those six empty jars, the bridegroom who gets the credit, and the epiphany John wants us to see: that Jesus doesn’t just transform water into wine. He transforms us.
Six Stone Jars.
We can start with those six jars. On the surface, six stone jars may not appear impressive.
John tells us they were big.
Really big.
Each one held about 25 gallons, so altogether, we’re talking about 150 gallons. That’s 2,160 glasses of wine if you’re keeping track. And they weren’t just any jars. These were used for the Jewish rites of purification.
In the first century, before you showed up at a wedding like this, you didn’t just stroll in with your black tie and gift from Williams-Sonoma. You had to be made acceptable. You dipped your hands in the water to wash away your sin, to make yourself ritually clean before God.
But here’s the thing: it didn’t work.
Six jars. Not seven. In Jewish tradition, six is the number of incompleteness and imperfection. It’s a sign that this whole system of trying to purify ourselves, to justify ourselves before God by what we do—it wasn’t cutting it.
So, what does Jesus do?
He takes those jars, the very symbol of that incomplete system, and fills them to the brim with water. And then, He transforms that water into wine.
Do you see what He’s doing?
Jesus is taking the whole system of making ourselves acceptable to God—the rules, the rituals, the striving, the should and musts we prescribe for ourselves and others—and He’s saying, “That’s My job now. I’m the one who makes you clean. I’m the one who justifies you. I’m the way you meet God.” He’s taking it all onto Himself.
And it’s not just enough wine for a toast. It’s an abundance of wine.
150 Gallons of Grace.
150 gallons—758 bottles.[iii]
That’s a ridiculous amount of wine. The kind of abundance that makes you laugh at the extravagance of it all.
The Jewish Talmud says one cup of water—just eight ounces—is enough to purify 100 people. So, if you’re doing the math, those 150 gallons of water that Jesus transformed into wine? That’s enough to purify over 200,000 people.
It’s a sign. A sign that in Jesus, God’s grace is not just sufficient—it’s extravagant. It’s overflowing. It’s bottomless glasses of the good stuff for people too drunk to even appreciate it.
The Bridegroom’s Credit.
And here’s the kicker. The wine runs out, and whose fault is that? The bridegroom. He didn’t plan well. He didn’t stock enough wine. But when the master of the feast tastes the wine that Jesus made, who gets the credit? The bridegroom.
The bridegroom gets the credit for what Jesus did.
It’s a sign.
You and I? We’re the bridegroom. We’re the ones who fall short, who don’t have enough, who can’t hold it all together. And Jesus steps in and we get the credit. By grace, through faith, we are justified—not by anything we do, but by what Jesus has done for us.
An Epiphany of Transformation.
And this isn’t just a party trick. It’s not just about saving a wedding from disaster.
This moment at Cana is an epiphany, a revelation. It’s a glimpse of who Jesus is and what He’s come to do.
Because if Jesus can transform water into wine, then water is only the beginning.
Do you see?
Jesus doesn’t just transform water. He transforms us. He takes what’s ordinary, what’s broken, what’s incomplete, and makes it new. Taking our striving and our failing, our fear and our sin, and He transforms it into grace. Into abundance. Into joy.
That’s the epiphany here: that the God who created the universe is not done creating.[iv] He’s still transforming. Still redeeming. Still making all things new.[v]
Abundant Life.
And this wine? It’s a sign of abundant life.
The prophets Amos,[vi] Hosea,[vii] and Isaiah[viii] all spoke of a day when God’s salvation would flow like wine—rich, abundant, and free. This moment at Cana is a glimpse of that day.[ix]
This wedding at Cana isn’t just about what happened back then. It’s about what’s happening now. Jesus is still transforming, still pouring out His grace in abundance. And He’s inviting you to the table, to the party, to the life that only He can give.
And the best part?
The wine never runs out.
The grace never dries up.
It’s all available to you, not because of anything you’ve done, but because of what Jesus has done for you.
So, we’re back at the wedding. Jesus wasn’t exactly expected to step in and save the day at Cana. He wasn’t the one responsible for the wine. He wasn’t the host. He wasn’t even the bridegroom. He was just a guest—a plus-one, really.[x]
Showing up at the wedding of our lives, Jesus sees the mess we’ve made, and steps in with grace, turning scarcity into abundance, failure into joy, and death into life. He doesn’t wait for us to get everything right. He doesn’t ask for credentials or check to see if we are on the guest list. Instead, He crashes our brokenness with His grace and pours out the best wine when we least deserve it.
So, serve it up. Glass after glass, sign after sign, pointing beyond ourselves to the One who turns water into wine and sinners into saints.
And here’s the good news: at His table, the wine never runs out. His grace never dries up.
Because if Jesus can transform water into wine, just imagine what He can do with you.
Amen.
[i] In God Turned Toward Us: The ABCs of Christian Faith (Abingdon Press 2021), Bishop Will Willimon writes, “John calls miracles "signs." Jesus's very first "sign" occurred not in a church service, not out of compassion for a crippled person, but at a bash after a wedding when Jesus, without saying a word or waving a magic wand, turned 180 gallons of water into fine wine, just to show he could do it. Seeing the sign, his disciples "believed in him," though who knows what they believed; they had not yet heard him teach or preach. Water to wine, enough bread to feed a hungry multitude, the blind see, the lame walk, Lazarus breathes again, the poor hear good news preached signs pointing to a wonderful possibility. Something's afoot.” At Cana, something was indeed afoot.
[ii] Isaiah 25:26
[iii] That’s assuming that each bottle is 700 ml.
[iv] See John 1.
[v] Jesus’ act of transforming water into wine at the wedding in Cana is a sign that connects directly to His eternal presence in John 1:1-3, where John proclaims, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made.” Just as Jesus, the Word, was present and active in the creation of the universe in Genesis 1, bringing order out of chaos and life into being, He continues His creative work at Cana—transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary. This moment points to the ongoing nature of His redemptive mission: not just creating the world, but continually transforming and redeeming it, making all things new as foreshadowed in Revelation 21:5, “Behold, I am making all things new.”
[vi] Amos 9:13-14
[vii] Hosea 2:21-22
[viii] Isaiah 25:6
[ix] The prophets Amos, Hosea, and Isaiah use wine to symbolize God’s future salvation—a time of restoration, abundance, and joy. When Jesus turns water into wine at Cana, it fulfills these prophetic promises, revealing Him as the source of God’s overflowing grace and blessings. The 150 gallons of wine are not just about abundance but a sign of His extravagant salvation, offering a glimpse of the ultimate feast in God’s kingdom.
[x] David Ford, in his commentary on the Gospel of John, makes the point that Can was the home of Nathaniel. “This is the home village of Nathaniel, so what happens is probably meant to be a sign of the fulfillment of what Jesus promised Nathaniel in 1:51.” (Page 63) For more, see The Gospel of John: A Theological Commentary by David Ford (Baker Academic 2021).
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