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The Rev. Christopher Brdlik
January 14, 2007 - Second Sunday after The Epiphany

Twice in my life I’ve taken on the discipline of flying lessons, of learning to fly a small private plane — once when I was a teenager, and again, when I turned 40. In both cases the expense of lessons and planes prevented me from getting a private pilot’s license. But of course I enjoyed the experience: the romance associated with the freedom of the open skies, the appeal of mastering the controls of a fine piece of machinery, the sense of adventure, the risk. And, of course, going through ground school, I learned a lot of (maybe) useless information. 

One of the little bits of info I retained is that aviation fuel weighs seven pounds a gallon. You need to know that in order to compute the take-off weight of your plane. But it also makes me remember that water, ordinary H2O, weighs a bit more: eight pounds to a gallon. Therefore, when I came to today’s gospel reading I did a little computation. Therefore, when I came to today’s gospel reading I did a little computation. John (2:1-12) tells us that at the wedding reception in Cana there were six stone jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding 20 or 30 gallons. Hmm, that means at least 160 pounds of capacity, maybe up to about 240 pounds, plus, what?, 40 or 50 pounds for each of the jars, times six — that’s three-quarters of a ton of weight. Clearly a lot of wine, and, apparently, worth a rating of 95 points (if the Wine Spectator had been there). John wanted to convey the fruitfulness and bounty of Jesus’ act of creation, and have us know that Christ is a generous Savior. God has provided in great abundance. 

But I thought: that’s a lot of work, too, and not necessarily labor on Jesus’ part. The servants had to fill those jars. Whatever the source of water, it wasn’t a tap and hose nearby. Someone had to go to the well, or perhaps to a spring, and either tote the water back to the wedding site bucket by bucket, or manage the more difficult task of filling and transporting the big jars, brimful. No wonder the servants who had drawn the water knew who made the wine! — they had done all the schlepping. Even if the chief steward and host were unaware what was happening at the wedding they were running, the servants were plenty savvy. 

Years ago my mother used to watch “Upstairs, Downstairs,” the serial drama on PBS about an aristocratic English family living upstairs in their London townhouse during the Edwardian era, and their servants, who lived downstairs in the servants quarters. Each element of the household had a structured, vibrant life, the upstairs mastered by the father of the family, the downstairs centered on the butler. But it was a truth of the drama that the upstairs family was oblivious to the lives of their faithful retainers, while the servants always knew what was going on upstairs. Both sides of the house lived through pains and joys, love affairs, and losses. Upstairs was unaware beyond themselves, but the servants always knew. 

Epiphany season celebrates the fact that Jesus, the Word made flesh, came to earth to be born in a stable, to be raised in a village, to become manifest as the Son of God, and to be revealed through signs and actions, as the Savior of the World. We may think of this as God coming from upstairs to live downstairs. Notice how much he taught about servanthood. Notice that his actions revealed deep compassion for the human condition, especially for those who were in demonstrable need. Soon he established a reputation as a healer of brokenness, so that people came to him from near and far seeking help with their problems, and he served them well. He could reach out and touch with a miraculous power that tapped into people’s deep sense of faith and enabled them to gain healing, discover wholeness, find relief in their lives. We believe his power came from God. But I want to point out to you that his compassion come from his servanthood. As a servant, he always knew. 

This is what makes the Christian gospel so powerful and unique. We believe in a God who knows what it’s like to be human. No one had ever encountered a god who was anything less than lofty and distant. The standard conception of God is a deity well removed from the aches and pains of daily life. Heaven is a far-off place, most people think, with God on a throne, and no time, no inclination, to worry about me. But Jesus Christ is a personal God who came to us as a servant who knows. He didn’t preach judgment and condemnation, but love of one’s neighbor and concern for the well being of the world. He was able to reach out to people and get them to respond to him because he knew what their lives were like. This is the wonderful truth about a God Incarnate. He was literally down to earth. He became like one of us so we could become more like him: servants who know, Christians who minister . No one had ever thought of God in this way before. 

Paul the Apostle understood that servanthood was at the heart of the Christian message. He wrote to the Corinthians (who were a quarrelsome lot with much conflict in their Church) that they should concentrate more on serving each other than on theological arguments. (I Cor. 12) “There are varieties of gifts,” he wrote. “There are varieties of services, there are varieties of activities. But each should be used for the common good.” Paul went on to list the gifts and abilities present in the Corinthian church. But his point was to build up, to strengthen each other, to work together in love and charity. Paul believed that Jesus was the example of servanthood. And being a faithful servant was the way to lead the Corinthians out of their internal conflict. The Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion could use such a message today. 

Let me leave you with this: In the way of servanthood, according to John, Jesus revealed his glory in Cana, and his disciples believed in him. “Glory” means presence, means being aware of the very presence of God right close by, in the closest proximity. Epiphany season celebrates the manifestation of God in a way that human beings could understand and identify with, though it had never occurred to human beings to think of God being that close ever before. Jesus revealed his glory, revealed his presence, by knowing what the servants know. When we learn to serve each other effectively and faithfully, we will know what it’s like to be God. Then we will truly fly.

© copyright 2006, Christopher Brdlik

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