Well, sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good.

I wish I could claim that I had planned for our renovations to be complete and that I would launch a sermon series on our campaign theme, Come and See. But I didn’t plan it—it just turned out that way. Because the Narrative Lectionary has us in the Gospel of John this January, and that’s where we hear that invitation from Jesus to his first disciples.

He doesn’t say, “Worship me.” He doesn’t say, “Become my disciple.” He simply offers this open-ended invitation: Come and see.

I ran across a quote this week that really summarizes—succinctly and nicely, I think—what the overall message is that I’m trying to impart through all these sermons in the Come and See series. It’s a quote from a mentor of mine, Dave Davis, who’s pastor of Nassau Presbyterian Church in Princeton. He said:

“When it comes to following Jesus, the life of discipleship, the call to be a faithful steward of God’s gifts, and one’s relationship with God—it was never about a memory verse, a poster, a slogan, or a program. It is about an invitation to a divine relationship that offers a window into the very heart of God.”

John 2:1–11

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 me and to you? 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. He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the person in charge of the banquet.” So they took it. When the person in charge tasted the water that had become wine and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), that person called the bridegroom 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.” Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee and revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in him.

For the Word of God in scripture,
For the Word of God among us,
For the Word of God within us,
Thanks be to God.

***

An exorcism. A wedding. Or a sermon. Either in Nazareth or on the Mount.

It would’ve been nice if the four Gospel writers had gotten the story straight. They don’t even agree on Jesus’ first public appearance. I mean, come on!

Of course, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are from different areas, different times, and they have different overriding concerns and perspectives—which perhaps accounts for the different ways they choose to tell their story.

Mark and Luke don’t agree on everything, but they hold the most in common. And John—John is widely agreed to be the last to be written, and it has the most unique, original material.

Perhaps the most important difference between John and the rest is the characterization of the relationship between the earliest followers of Jesus and their Jewish community. In Matthew and Luke, the Jesus movement is still part of Judaism. It’s under the umbrella.

But by the time John writes later, tensions have grown among the two communities, and they’re starting to fracture.

Now, I’ve used this analogy before, but I think it’s really helpful to think of John as a teenager.

As you know, it is a teenager’s job to grow from being a dependent child into their own unique personhood. The necessary separation between parent and child is rarely smooth—and often includes churlishness, moodiness, and sometimes full-out rebellion. (And that’s just the parents!)

But seriously, we know that it is the job of a teenager to challenge authority.

Now, if we think of John as the teenager of the Gospel writers, then when we see him speak negatively of “the Jews,”—a term he uses often in the Gospel—we can understand that this reflects a very specific and unique period in the long history between Jews and Christians.

It is a misuse of the text to take these temporary sentiments as the all-time stance for the relationship between Christians and Jews.

The truth of the matter is that we share much of the same story as our Jewish siblings, and we do not improve our faith at all by denigrating theirs. Quite the opposite.

No one knows the Jewish story better than they do, of course. Some of my deepest, most meaningful, and impactful theological conversations have been with rabbis. They’ve helped me understand my own faith and tradition better.

I believe—and my experience has taught me again and again—that our faith traditions, Jews and Christians, although unique and distinct, are much more in line and much more complementary than they are in conflict. I would add Muslims to that as well.

So when we read John and his apparent animosity toward “the Jews,” we need to be very mindful and very careful. We do not want to feed into Christianity’s sin of antisemitism—even though, unfortunately, it’s true that these texts have been used as justification for all kinds of evil.

And so, we cannot simply read John and these passages and ignore this history.

Therefore, I find it helpful to re-translate. When John says “the Jews,” I re-translate that to “religious authorities,” or sometimes “Jewish religious authorities.” The purpose of this is to remind us that John was not talking about Jewish people in general—and certainly not Jewish people of all times and places. He was talking about a very specific group of mostly religious leaders who were opposing these earliest followers of Jesus.

The real difference between people of faith is not between Jews and Christians. It’s between those genuinely seeking a path of spiritual enlightenment and a way of living—and those who would use their power for their own desires.

So let me stop explaining and start showing.

Today’s passage is a familiar one: the wedding at Cana.

Jesus is there with his pals. His mother’s there too. We notice that in John’s Gospel, she’s called the mother of Jesus—never by name, Mary. Right?

This introduces us to something unique John does: he’s more apt to refer to people by their relationship to Jesus, rather than by their name. So it’s not just Mary, but the mother of Jesus. It’s not just disciples, but the beloved disciple, for example.

In addition, Jesus’ response when his mother points out that the host has run out of wine—it’s probably not meant to be as harsh as it sounds in English. I have so much trouble reading that! I don’t know how to read those words without it sounding insulting. But I don’t think it was meant that way.

So there we are. Jesus and his followers are at a wedding where the host has run out of wine—a huge faux pas. A big shame on the host. His mother alerts him to the problem. He indicates he’s not really ready to start the show quite yet—I mean, you only get one chance at a first impression, right?

But despite this… his mother just proceeds without him!

Jesus decides to do something about the situation. He spots some large jars used for Jewish rites of purification. He asks the stewards to fill the jars with water, which they do. And when the chief steward draws water from the jar, it turns out to be wine.

And not just any wine—but good wine. Twenty to thirty gallons of good wine added to the pot. The party’s saved. Everyone’s impressed.

That’s the story.

So what do we make of it?

Some interpreters like to focus on the detail about the jars being used for Jewish purification rites. Why tell us that detail? Could this be an indication that Jewish purification rites are no longer needed? That they’ve been replaced by the wine of celebration now that Jesus is here?

A clear indication of the supremacy of Christianity over Judaism?

Have you heard that one before? I have.

It seems to me that it misses the point—big time.

I mean, you have to do some pretty fancy footwork to make it all work. Maybe the jars were just there because… they were there!

You know, there’s a difference between approaching Scripture like a miner—whose job is to extract the one and only possible truth—and approaching Scripture like an explorer: someone who is curious, asking questions, enjoying the process of learning and discovery.

So let’s look at the passage again.

John chooses a wedding as the setting of Jesus’ first public act. Not a pulpit. Not a house of worship.

A wedding.

A celebration of joy and love. Where the whole community is invited and participates. Where so much fun and joy and fellowship is happening that they run out of wine.

I mean… what a party, right?

And what about Jesus?

He’s simply there to celebrate with the newlywed couple. And when the wine runs out, he doesn’t take the spotlight. In fact, the only people who know he had anything to do with it are his mother, the stewards, and his followers.

Everyone else just assumes they brought out more wine—or maybe they were never aware it had run out in the first place.

Sounds like not everybody was in the best shape, right?

In either case, the party continues. And at heart, that’s what this story is about.

Did you notice what John calls all of this?

He doesn’t call it a miracle. He calls it a sign.

The other Gospels talk about Jesus’ miracles. But in John, he prefers the word sign.

Why is that?

Well, a miracle is more of an aberration, isn’t it? It’s an exception to the norm.

But a sign… a sign is an indication. A marker that you’re on the right path. A glimpse into the way things really are.

In her Pulitzer Prize–winning book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard tells of growing up as a child in Pittsburgh. She was about six or seven at the time, and she played this game where she would hide a shiny new penny—one of her very own—along the path where someone else might find it.

She’d tuck it off to the side, in a crack in the sidewalk or under a leaf. Then she’d hide and watch to see if someone would notice it.

If no one did, she’d put up a sign that said something like, “Surprise ahead!”

She just believed—deep down—that there were signs in the universe for those who had the eyes to see them.

Jesus’ signs are like that too—offered with great generosity and great love.

And these signs are everywhere. They invite us to consider our surroundings. [NOTE: audio appears to drop out briefly here]

English author Terry Pratchett once said that humans believe in the strangest miracles—flowers blooming in concrete, weeping statues. But what if it’s not that we need more miracles… it’s that we need better eyes?

Maybe everyday miracles are enough. If we’re open enough to experience them. If we can see.

God’s love and grace constantly surround and uphold us.

Like two people committing themselves to each other in love.
Like a community joined together in celebration.
Like the good gifts of food and drink.
Like justice over hate.
Like the company of family and friends.

These are signs that we are on the way—Jesus’ Kingdom way.

After a week like the one we just had, Reverend Ginger Gaines-Cirelli reminds us what this way looks like. She writes,“Christianity is not about controlling others or protecting our privilege. It is about following Jesus, who consistently chose love over domination, who chose compassion over cruelty—every time.”

Before worship today, I gave a bunch of pennies to some of our youth with the intention of hiding them around the church where people could find them.

I’ll encourage you to look for them today. There are a few on the communion table, too—they’re all over.

Also—your star word for 2026 is up here on the table. You’re welcome to come receive it.

Friends, our Lord invites us to Come and See the Kingdom signs that are all around and within us. The everyday miracles that remind us that:

God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.

Amen.

The post Come and See: Everyday Miracles appeared first on Roland Park Presbyterian Church.

 Discussion Questions:

1. Signs vs. Miracles

• The Gospel of John refers to Jesus’ acts as signs rather than miracles. Why do you think this distinction matters?
• How does thinking of Jesus’ works as signs pointing to God’s nature rather than supernatural events change your understanding of this story?

2. The Wedding at Cana

• Jesus’ first public act happens not in a synagogue or temple, but at a wedding celebration. What does this setting suggest about the nature of God’s kingdom?
• What does it mean to you that Jesus provided an abundance of good wine—and did so quietly, without fanfare?

3. Everyday Miracles and Seeing Signs

• Annie Dillard’s story of hiding pennies for strangers as signs of grace was mentioned in the sermon. What “pennies” of grace do you notice in your life?
• What gets in the way of seeing the everyday signs of God’s love around you? How might you open yourself to notice them more?

4. Interfaith and Historical Context

• Pastor Mark referenced the Gospel of John’s tension with Jewish religious authorities and cautioned against misreading it as anti-Jewish. Why is this historical awareness important when reading Scripture today?

The post Sermon Discussion Guide: Come and See: Everyday Miracles appeared first on Roland Park Presbyterian Church.