Shame on You

Have you ever asked the question, "What do you see in me?"

I have often slumped into this question when feeling flattered beyond qualification. Sometimes it's the words I have spat out when seething under someone's grace. Like a go-to defensive stab when you have wronged someone and can't honestly believe they didn't bat an eyelash but instead forgave.

Receiving anything undeserved seems to somehow puncture pride slowly, like a needle prick in an air mattress... it takes nights of bottoming out and re-puffing yourself back up only to realize you're a steadily deflating piece of plastic.

So in John 2 when Jesus commands empty stoneware to be filled with water, which acquired the new form of wine to meet a sober need, the newlyweds and their wedding director were fumbling for a proof of origin. Previously shame-stricken, they were saved from the embarrassment of a dry reception (trust me, my husband and I had one!), and the celebration was restored by new wine. Best of all, Jesus bestowed his first miracle on a humble, small-town group of people.

Cana, the Israeli version of Marshville (where cousins marry cousins marry cousins), was far from the buzzing lights of Jerusalem, where the public scene of action would have better showcased the first sign from the Messiah. In fact, Cana, the tribe of Asher, was an obscure little corner of the country where Jesus could put honor on the lowly like Genesis promised: "He shall yield royal danties." Debuting choice wine for half-drunk Galilean country mice mid-week during a wedding festival was a move only a King could afford to make. 

Gracing the institute of marriage with his first miracle, Jesus' work reminds us of what the Father did for Adam and Eve - pardon and remove shame. He would do the same thing for us in time. Yet, His time "had not yet come," something He reminds His mother and followers multiple times. In some contexts, it seems Jesus is waiting on the infancy faith of His own disciples to mature before He begins doing miracles as a part of His ministry. And other times, it seems Jesus simply isn't ready to face what He knows is coming, for reasons and conversations only could He have with His Father. Regardless, it seems abundantly clear that at the bottom of the Galileans' wine casks, then and only there was Jesus able to intercede. Likewise, man's extremity is God's opportunity to appear for the help and relief of his people. Mercy delayed until man's dire strait, but "at the end it shall speak."

Thus when Jesus shrouded the shame of these poor newlyweds, He kicked off a ministry of law breaking, table flipping, leper touching and whore loving. In all cases, He replaced water with wine, trumping Moses' previous miracle of water into blood. For the Jews in Jesus' day, all this did was highlight and underline the difference between their law of Moses and the new Gospel of Christ.

He replaced death with life even before He encountered death Himself. He traded lack for abundance. Such that by the end, when indeed His hour had come, He was the despised and rejected like all those previously broken and diseased folk He had healed and radicalized for good. Like a friend once said, "Jesus is not a bandaid dealer, He is a heart surgeon who does not simply save face for us."

And like the animal slaughtered to clothe the naked shame of two horny and hungry gardeners, Jesus was nailed and hung so that we could all be shrouded in grace instead of shame. God the Father pronated His anger away from man toward His Son, in order to lend final grace on the shameful. In essence, God looked at the charisma, compassion, mercy, and perfection of His Son and said, "Shame on You."

Thanks be to God for doing the most unfair just act of Love. Now we drink a new wine, that will be in new casks at the ultimate, unending wedding feast of the Bride and Bridegroom at the end of time for all of eternity.  Take me there!