Fresh Eyes on Jesus' Miracles

Discovering New Insights in Familiar Passages

Doug Newton

• Publisher: David C Cook
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN:
  9781434712110
• eBook ISBN:
  9781434712141
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Biblical Studies

What can readers learn about personal transformation from Jesus turning water to wine? How does His feeding of the five thousand refocus their own call to serve? In Fresh Eyes on Jesus' Miracles, Pastor Doug Newton finds hidden truths in the gospels' most familiar stories. From the wedding at Cana to Peter's miraculous catch, Newton offers cultural context, modern-day insights, and spiritual depth to awaken even the most seasoned reader's heart and mind. Most importantly, he equips readers to study Scripture with a fresh perspective—and join God's miraculous work in their most ordinary moments.

1

Got Wine?

Turning Water into Wine

John 2:1–11

If God is able to turn water into wine, why don’t we see more cases of transformation in people and circumstances?

I pastored for years in southern Kentucky, where the humid summers make you sweat like a cold glass of sweet iced tea. This was usually not a problem, provided you could go from your air-conditioned home to your air-conditioned car to your air-conditioned workplace to the air-conditioned store.

But on too many occasions I had the misfortune of performing weddings in non-air-conditioned churches chosen for their quaint ambience. Funny how the allure of ambience wilts as the congregation waits for the bride’s entry. Every bride wants a perfect wedding day. Did no one think the lack of air conditioning might be a distracting discomfort? Oh well . . .

Some things are the same in all places at all times. Weddings need to go well. That’s why even two thousand years later we can relate to the first miracle the apostle John recorded in his gospel. It occurred during a wedding in Cana. The problem at this wedding was not drenching humidity but the disappointing lack of celebratory wine.

Before we delve into the miracle and discover something you may never have thought about, it’s important to realize that this miracle holds a special place in the New Testament Gospels. Only John’s gospel tells it. Matthew, Mark, and Luke for some reason did not include it. On top of that, John handpicked just seven miracles out of scores he could have chosen. He did so because his mission differed from the other gospel writers’. The few miracles he chose ranked at the top of all Jesus’ miracles, because in John’s mind they were not just supernatural wonders. They were “miraculous signs” pointing to Jesus’ divine identity and unique mission.

John chose this miraculous sign to be the first—the leadoff hitter for his whole story of Jesus’ glory. We can only guess why. But what could be a better start to the gospel of Jesus than to show Him to be the one who can do miracles of transformation? Isn’t that what everyone needs?

John started by saying, “On the third day a wedding took place at Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, and Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, ‘They have no more wine’” (John 2:1–3).

Notice those last five words Jesus’ mother spoke. Don’t just read them. Imagine them. What did she sound like when she voiced them? Certainly she wasn’t flat and emotionless like a computer speech synthesizer: “They . . . have . . . no . . . more . . . wine.”

Imagine her tone of voice. Her volume. Her intensity. A little cultural background might help inform your imagination.

In those days, wedding celebrations were major events that often lasted several days. You think wedding planners today have a chore? Imagine having the job of “master of the banquet.” Some translations even call that person the “governor of the feast” (KJV). A wedding celebration was no small affair if it required a governor to be in charge!

With so much riding on a wedding celebration attended by the whole town, you can imagine the potential outcry if things went poorly. In fact, according to historians, running out of wine at a wedding celebration was grounds for a lawsuit! And you thought we live in a litigious society?

That’s why worry and a shot of desperation probably resonated in Jesus’ mother’s voice. Perhaps she pulled Jesus aside and whispered it, but there would have been a lot of force behind those words, like a pressure valve releasing pent-up steam: “They have no more wine!”

If you, like me, grew up in a teetotaler home, running out of wine would cause great relief not grave consternation. So I wonder what would give me a similar level of concern, considering my upbringing. Here’s the best I can do: What if they ran out of wedding cake, the kind I love piled high with frosting? I imagine myself attending a wedding in the humid Kentucky heat . . . and trapped in a church basement after the ceremony, waiting uncomfortably, dress shirt sticking to the back of the chair . . . longing for—no, praying for—the good fortune of getting a corner piece of cake adorned with a creamy confection rose. Then finally getting to the buffet table and finding they’ve run out of cake! Yes, I would be considering a lawsuit! Or maybe something even worse involving that cake knife!

Somehow that imagined scenario puts me in a place where I can hear Mary’s panic when she cries, “They have no more wine.” Yet despite her desperation, Jesus seemed unmoved. Let’s read on: “‘Woman, why do you involve me?’ Jesus replied. ‘My hour has not yet come’” (John 2:4).

How would you like to get a Mother’s Day card addressed “Woman”? Maybe that was a respectful form of address in Jesus’ day, but He still sounds reluctant to help. Is He really being unsympathetic? Probably not. He was making a theological point. When He referred to “my hour,” He was not talking about clock time. The word used here refers to a “special moment.” He typically referred to His eventual death on the cross this way.

Jesus was putting things in proper perspective. He knew His mother wanted Him to use His supernatural ability to fix the problem, which He knew would reveal something about His amazing identity. But was it time for that? Shouldn’t He reserve that revelation for a greater display of glory than solving this wine shortage? I can almost hear Him say, “I came into this world to save much more than one wedding.” That’s where He was probably coming from when He replied to His mother.

Amusingly, Jesus’ mother didn’t seem to wait for His reply before she was off rounding up the servants. After all, she was His mother. She knew her boy. She didn’t need to wait for an answer before assuming He would help. John recorded, “His mother said to the servants, ‘Do whatever he tells you.’ Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons” (vv. 5–6).

Remember that fact given about the stone water jars. We’ll come back to them.

Jesus ordered the servants to fill the jars with water and then take a sample of the water to the master of the banquet. When they did that, the feast master, not knowing the whole story, enjoyed what he considered a fine glass of wine. But that puzzled him: “Then he called the bridegroom aside and said, ‘Everyone brings out the choice wine first and then the cheaper wine after the guests have had too much to drink; but you have saved the best till now’” (vv. 9–10).

Not only did Jesus convert water into wine, but it was not the boxed variety! This wine would impress the snootiest waiter at restaurants where common people can’t even afford to pay for parking.

Think about that. Jesus took water, which consists of only two elements: two parts hydrogen, one part oxygen (H₂O). Not only did He remix those two elements, but He also added the element carbon. We know that because the natural sugars in wine grapes include carbon. And He introduced many more compounds that never existed in the water. Wine includes tannins and organic acids: tartaric, malic, and citric. In short, He didn’t just sneak some red food coloring into the water when no one was looking. He somehow accelerated the aging process and turned two minutes into years, as far as the wine was concerned.

Without even waving His hand or whispering “Abracadabra,” Jesus performed a miracle of radical transformation. Only the God who created the universe from nothing could have infused the one-time water with carbon and acids and sparkling flavor. If He could do this to water-filled pots, imagine what He can do with worry-filled people. Imagine how He can create unexpectedly high-quality wisdom or faith or peace where none exists.

Isn’t this the basis of our hope, our only hope—that God performs miracles of transformation? So let’s return to the teaser question at the head of this chapter: If God is able to turn water into wine, why don’t we see more cases of transformation in people and circumstances?

The answer emerges when we backtrack to the command Jesus gave the servants and note their response. Remember, Jesus told them to fill the waterpots. Picture those waterpots. Recall that each one held twenty to thirty gallons of water, so they were about the size of a standard galvanized trashcan, except made of stone.

How would the servants have fulfilled Jesus’ command? Would they have pulled out the garden hose, attached it to a house spigot, and lopped it over the top? Probably not.

Would they have carried the waterpots to the town well, filled them, and lugged them back to the festivities? Thirty gallons of water weighs about 250 pounds, and that’s on top of the weight of the stone waterpots themselves. No way would even two people be able to carry such a heavy, sloshing, unwieldy container. Even a donkey cart would have proved pointless no matter how hard you tried to keep the pots steady and level over the rough paths.

So how would they have filled the waterpots? By carrying small buckets back and forth from the well, probably located some distance away, over and over again until the pots were full.

I’m a pretty hard worker, but the idea of hauling water back and forth in little two-gallon animal skin buckets would not have been a pleasant thought. Bear in mind I probably had already filled those waterpots earlier in the day.

What would I have done? What would you have done? We should not zip right past this question in order to get on with the miracle story. I got out my calculator and estimated it would have taken about eighty trips back and forth to obey Jesus’ command. Or perhaps only forty trips if using a neck yoke for carrying two skins at a time. Either way, the task was time consuming and labor intensive.

If I had been a servant in this story, I might have filled the first waterpot to within a couple inches of the top, thought That’s good enough, and started filling waterpot number two. I would have filled that one to within perhaps three or four inches of the top, thought again That’s good enough, and started in on waterpot number three. I would have filled pot three to within five or six inches. . . . You see where I’m going? My enthusiasm to fulfill Jesus’ command would have been draining out even as I was filling the waterpots, until maybe—maybe—the sixth and final waterpot would have been about half-full when I decided to draw one more bucket and a final conclusion: That’s good enough.

However, here’s the shocking observation about the text. John carefully pointed out that the servants “filled them to the brim” (John 2:7). Most servants in this culture could choose how they went about their work, like employees in our day. That’s why in several places the New Testament urges Christian servants to work diligently and with good attitudes as an act of worship and witness. I must confess the servants at the wedding were more thorough and diligent than I would have been. But what difference does it make whether they filled the waterpots to the maximum level?

Here’s the difference. Imagine my sixth half-full waterpot containing only fifteen gallons of water compared with the actual servants’ completely full waterpot. How much wine would I have gotten? Fifteen gallons. How many gallons of wine would they have gotten? Thirty. If I had brought five gallons of water, how much wine would I have gotten? Five gallons. Do you see the point?

Yes, Jesus could have turned a thimble of water into thirty gallons of wine. But John reported a miracle not of multiplication but of transformation. Jesus intentionally “revealed his glory” (v. 11) by changing the quality not the quantity of the substance brought to Him. He could have snapped His fingers and created enough wine for a thousand weddings, but He chose to remedy the wine shortage by telling the servants to bring to Him what needed to be changed.

Only Jesus could have performed the miracle of transformation. He took H₂O and made an elegant combination of elements, tannin, bouquet, and color—from water to fine wine—without touching, adding, mixing, or blending any additional ingredients. But the amount of water that was transformed depended on how much water the servants brought. Had they brought less water, less would have been transformed.

That’s the lesson for us. It turns out that the old gospel song has been right all along:

What a Friend we have in Jesus,

All our sins and griefs to bear!

What a privilege to carry

Everything to God in prayer!

O what peace we often forfeit,

O what needless pain we bear,

All because we do not carry

Everything to God in prayer.1

Why don’t we see more transformation in people and circumstances? The amount of wine we enjoy depends on the amount of water—things that need to be changed—we bring to Jesus, particularly when brought in the waterpots of prayer. How many gallons are you bringing?

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Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• About the Fresh Eyes Series
• Introduction
• 1. Got Wine?
• 2. Time Will Tell
• 3. Dayworkers
• 4. Fish Sandwiches
• 5. Dead Pigs
• 6. Travel Plans
• 7. A Cure for Can’t
• 8. Faith in Faith
• 9. Pull the Pork
• 10. Why Jesus Wept
• Notes
• Fresh Eyes on Jesus’ Parables