What Kind of Savior is This? (John 2:1-11) || 02/01/26
Sermon Manuscript
What is often missed in the beginning of John’s gospel is that deliberately structures the opening of his Gospel as a new-creation week. There are seven days. John is very clear about on which day these things happen. He wants us to think about Genesis 1: the seven days of creation. And this is especially important when you get to the seventh day: the Wedding at Cana.
It is no coincidence that John puts Jesus’ first miracle on the seventh day. He’s not just recording Jesus’ first miracle. He’s carefully showing us what kind of Savior Jesus is. And he does it with one sign, on one day, and in one unexpected place. And he does so to answer one question. Who is Jesus and what kind of world begins when he arrives?
And this makes so much sense if you think about it. When someone new steps into your life, you instinctively ask one question: What are they like? Before you trust them, before you give them any responsibility, and certainly before you follow them. When young kids go to school, the first thing they want to know about their teacher is ‘what are they like?’ If someone sets you up on a date, the first question you ask is ‘what are they like?’ Robert and I have interviewed about ten people over the past week or so applying for the Worship Director position and one of the main questions we want to know is ‘what are they like?’
John knows his audience and that’s why he doesn’t open Jesus’ ministry with a sermon or a confrontation, but with a sign. He wants his audience to follow Jesus and we need to answer the same question: What kind of Savior is He? John answers this question in this passage in three ways. First…
- Jesus is the Savior with authority over creation (The days)
One professor at Duke once said that if you were inventing a story about the Savior of the world would you present His first miracle as solving a social embarrassment? I mean basically, what we have here is Jesus using His divine power to fix a potential catering disaster. The story unfolds at a wedding. And weddings in that day and in many cultures around the world are a much bigger deal than today for us. We may spend more money on weddings today, but back then, they could last for a week or longer. And the hallmark of a celebration like this is wine. And, yes, I do believe that this was real fermented wine and not grape juice. And it was the groom’s family’s job to provide enough wine for the whole week.
We don’t know why, but something has gone terribly wrong and the wine ran out early. It’s hard for us reading this today to appreciate the disaster it was. So, Jesus’ mother comes to Him and tells Him about the problem. And their exchange can sound very harsh to us. Jesus responds by saying, “Woman, what does this have to do with me?” Now, if any of my kids said that to Angela, they’d see a side of me they don’t normally see. But in that culture, these words are actually formal and respectful. These are the same words Jesus uses on the cross when He is arranging for John to care for Mary. Woman, behold your son.
But, Jesus is also intentionally not using the word ‘mother.’ He is redefining their relationship some in light of His mission. He’s signaling that His identity and authority do not flow from earthly family ties alone, but from His calling from the Father. He’s not emotionally distancing Himself, He’s providing messianic clarity. When He’s literally saying, “What is this to you and me?’ He’s not saying, ‘Don’t bother me.” He’s saying, “You see a crisis of hospitality. I am operating on a divine timetable.” He’s creating theological tension by saying, “My hour has not yet come.”
Now, I read this for years and thought, “Jesus just said no. My hour has not come.” Which made me think He was saying no to the miracle. But then He goes and does a miracle. That’s weird. But what is happening is Jesus is performing a sign that points to the hour. The wedding is a preview, not the climax. Jesus is revealing something about His glory without revealing everything.
This is where the days are so important. The first two chapters can feel like diary entries, but John is a theologian. He wants the words of Genesis to be echoing in our ears: In the beginning… So, why a wedding on the seventh day? The seventh day is about completion, rest, and delight. And what is Jesus doing on this seventh day? He’s at a joyful wedding about to turn lack into abundance.
Jesus doesn’t pray loudly and make a scene. He doesn’t invoke heaven. He just speaks and the water obeys. Can you see the call back to Genesis? The Lord speaks and creation obeys. The One who made water now tells it what to become. Jesus is not a spiritual guide trapped in this world. He’s not a prophet borrowing power from God. He’s not a teacher offering wisdom from within creation. He’s the Savior with authority over creation itself.
And John wants us to see that Jesus uses that authority not to judge the world, but to bless it. He uses His authority not to condemn, but to quietly bless a wedding hardly anyone knew was in any danger to begin with. And this matters because it tells us that the One who has the power to unmake the world that has been mired in sin is instead choosing to begin renewing it. This sign of water being turned into wine points to the hour when Jesus would die for the sins of the world beginning a transformation that will one day take over the universe.
And this should reshape the way we interact with Him. We shouldn’t treat Jesus as a specialist who operates on our timelines. We shouldn’t try and manage Jesus, we should trust in His authority. We may believe that Jesus has power, but we still relate to Him like a consultant. We bring parts of our life to Him, but keep tight control over the parts that feel practical or urgent. This kind of authority means that Jesus is Lord over not just the result, but the timing as well. And when we let go of the timing and the result and really trust Him, we will feel a peace inside our souls because we no longer have to manage things we can’t control and we are free to allow the One who can to do it. The One who uses His authority over creation for our good. If Jesus has authority over all creation, then we don’t have to relate to Him as a last-resort fixer, but as the Lord who is quietly making all things new…even today.
- Jesus is the Savior with authority over religion (The Jars)
At this wedding, John tells us that there were large stone jars set aside for ritual washing. This isn’t just some decorative detail. In Jesus’ day, these jars were used whenever someone felt unclean. Before meals, after travels, or after contact with things that made them feel religiously or socially unacceptable. They were part of a system meant to help people feel right with God again. But John intentionally points out that the jars are empty. That’s no accident. It’s his way of showing that even sincere efforts to clear ourselves up morally, spiritually, or emotionally eventually run out. When Jesus steps in, He doesn’t throw the jars away or scold the people for using them. He fills them up and transforms what is inside. John is showing us that Jesus doesn’t just help us try harder to fix ourselves, He becomes the source of our cleansing and joy that we can’t produce on our own.
Jesus took these unused empty vessels of purification and filled them with the very thing the people needed and the very thing that was intended to bring life to the party. What kind of Savior is this? One who doesn’t merely forgive sins, but fills and transforms sinners from the inside. Instead of being made clean from external disciplines or effort, we are made clean from the inside.
How many of us are still trying to clean ourselves up with empty jars? Do you know empty jars have a sound? If you put a big empty jar on the ground, you can hear that it’s empty. You don’t even have to look in. Our empty jars have a sound too. They sound like constant effort, but little relief. They sound like temporarily feeling better, but not free. They sound like managing chaos, but never experiencing freedom. There is an exhausting cycle of guilt, effort, short relief, exhaustion, then more guilt. Over and over and over.
And John isn’t mocking or shaming this cycle, he’s naming and explaining it. He’s showing us that we aren’t designed to be our own source of cleansing because that produces exhaustion and guilt. Jesus came to bring us joy. So, what do we do?
We bring the empty jar to Jesus. Our inclination is to hide our emptiness. The empty parts of us are what feel most shameful and most vulnerable. In fact, most of us spend our days trying to prove to others and ourselves that we are actually full when we are not, which only adds more guilt.
Back in Oxford, one of my good friends who was on staff with Young Life bought a small coffee shop and asked some of my friends to help him renovate it. They tore out the whole bar, shelves, and light fixtures and when they finished one of my friends asked, ‘So what’s the plan now?” And my Young Life friend said, “Men, this is where we dream!” Which has now become a phrase we use when we have no idea what we are going to do because he had absolutely no plan beyond tearing it down.
Now, my friends were a bit irritated, but what I love about this guy is that he wasn’t insecure about not having a plan or embarrassed by the emptiness of the room when the shop was supposed to open in one week! He wasn’t anxious about the lack of clarity. He brought our friends into an unfinished space and invited them to help shape what it would become. I think about that because that is how I want to bring my emptiness and unfinished spaces to Jesus. We aren’t bringing Jesus a problem, we’re giving Him room to work something beautiful.
Just like the servants in this passage, we bring Jesus our emptiness and He will give us the next step. It won’t be the whole plan. It won’t be the final product. But, there is so much relief and joy when we can bring our emptiness to Jesus and say, “This is where we dream.” And unlike my friends, Jesus is never going to be irritated when we do. Exposing our emptiness is the hard part. Letting Jesus fill it is the easy part. And the way He wants to fill it is with joy. And that joy is the evidence that Jesus is at work, not the reward for good conduct. Joy is the last thing we can conjure up in our emptiness.
Notice this person at the wedding called the master of the banquet. Literally it’s the ruler of the table or lord of the feast. His main job is to bring joy to the party. But, who is really bringing joy to the party? Who is the true Lord of the feast? It’s Jesus.
One more Oxford story. At my former church, there was a man nominated for elder and he checked so many boxes. He never missed church, his kids were all unbelievably obedient, he knew all his theology, and he was very disciplined with his money. There seemed to be no problem in him, but then the Senior Pastor, JD Shaw, said something that changed the whole room. He said, “Yes, but there is no joy in him.” That was really profound for me. Joy is what Jesus came to bring.
Jesus didn’t come to give us better religious habits, He came to give us a better source of cleansing and the evidence of that is joy. It doesn’t mean that life is always going to be easy. It doesn’t mean that you always have to be smiling. It doesn’t mean that anxiety and depression are signs that you aren’t a believer. It means that we can bring those empty areas to Jesus and He will give us more joy and hope in our trials than we would otherwise have. And sometimes our joy is in defiance of our circumstances.
But, there is one more part of this that is revealed more quietly, but so important to see. Jesus doesn’t only have power over creation and religion. He also has power over dignity.
- Jesus is the Savior with authority over shame and honor (The quietness)
In this context, running out of wine was not a minor embarrassment, it was a public failure. They lived in an honor shame culture. A wedding is a communal event where honor is fragile and shame is always lingering. To fail as a host is to mark both you and your family with lasting disgrace. But, this isn’t how Jesus is operating. He doesn’t call attention to the problem. He doesn’t correct the hosts publicly. He doesn’t interrupt the celebration. The shame is real, but it is never seen.
John wants us to see that Jesus’ authority extends beyond nature and religion and into the social and emotional core of human life. Jesus isn’t just solving a logistical problem, He isn’t only securing joy to the party, He’s protecting honor. The guests don’t know about the problem. The master of the feast doesn’t even know. The party has yet to be interrupted in any real way. Only the servants and disciples know what is happening. What kind of Savior is Jesus? One who has the authority to expose, but instead covers it up. Exposure in this culture would have been devastating, but Jesus uses his divine power to prevent humiliation, not to produce it.
John tells this story knowing exactly how it will end. He knows that Jesus who quietly protects a family from public shame will one day be publicly shamed. At Cana Jesus uses His power to cover disgrace so no one is exposed. But at the cross he allows Himself to be exposed so others can be covered. The One who preserves honor in secret will hang in public humiliation.
A main theme in John’s gospel is that true glory is revealed not by avoiding shame, but by absorbing it. The Savior who turns water into wine will later have His blood poured out. John places this sign first to foreshadow what kind of salvation Jesus brings. Not one that fixes us from a distance, but one where He steps into our shame, takes it on Himself, and in exchange gives us His honor, His righteousness, and His life.
John begins Jesus’ ministry at a wedding, but he does that knowing how the story will end. It doesn’t end at Cana..it doesn’t end at the cross…and it doesn’t end at the resurrection. John himself received what we read in Revelation 19 where we see another wedding: the marriage supper of the Lamb. A day when the people of God are gathered, clothed in white, and invited to a feast that will never run out. And what will be there? Wine, joy, and celebration.
Cana isn’t just a miracle, it’s a promise. Because Jesus drank the cup of God’s wrath against sin…the shame we deserve…the judgment we could not survive. He can say to all those who trust in Him, “Come and drink with me.” We will drink the new wine with Jesus because He drank the bitter cup for us. The Savior who discreetly brought joy to this wedding will one day bring His people to a wedding with a joy that never ends. That is His glory. And when John says the disciples saw that glory and believed, he’s inviting us to do the same. Not just to admire Jesus, but to trust in Him. This frees us from relating to Him like a consultant. This allows us to trust Him with the timing and results. And most of all, it allows us to bring our emptiness, shame, and unfinished lives to Him. To look at our most vulnerable places and say, “Jesus, this is where we dream.” Because the One who turns water into wine is preparing a feast for us even now.
John has told us what kind of Savior Jesus is. Now, is this the kind of Savior we can trust?
