What Are Your Expectations of Jesus?

John 2:1-11

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

4 “Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.”

5 His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”

6 Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons.

7 Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water”; so they filled them to the brim.

8 Then he told them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.”

They did so, 9 and the master of the banquet tasted the water that had been turned into wine. He did not realize where it had come from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew. Then he called the bridegroom aside 10 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.”

11 What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.

What Are Your Expectations of Jesus?

Firsts are important. We remember them. First words. First steps. First kisses. First cars. First jobs. First apartments. And while they don’t dictate the course of the rest of our lives, they can be quite telling, especially in hindsight. You may not have realized at the moment that you had a type – whether that be of the kind of car you like to drive or the type of work you like to do. Firsts are important. And firsts can be very telling.

The same can be said for Jesus’ first miracle. It was important, and it was very telling. It was important for his mother, for his disciples, for those servants, for the bride and the groom and their guests too. It was telling in that it gives us a clue as to what Jesus came to do. Jesus’ first miracle establishes our expectations of him.

At the start of chapter 2 John tells us that Jesus is at a wedding:

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.”[1]

It’s such a mom thing to say, isn’t it? It’s not a question. It’s not a request or a command. It’s simply a statement, and yet, you know it’s more than that, don’t you? There’s a lot implied in those five words. She expects Jesus to do something.

And I think this is important to point out because I don’t want to paint Mary in a poor light. I actually think that she did better than most of us would have in her situation. Remember what John says at the end of this passage:

What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory.[2]

It’s not as if this had been a daily occurrence in the Carpenter household for the last 30 years. Jesus hadn’t made a habit out of refilling the pantry or his mother’s wine glass with a wiggle of his nose. Mary had never seen Jesus perform a miracle before, which makes her expectation of him so amazing.

Mary expected Jesus to do something – having never seen him perform a miracle before – because she never forgot who he was. It may have been thirty years, but you better believe she remembered Gabriel’s visit. How could you not?? When an angel comes and tells you that you’re going to have a baby even though you’re a virgin and that that baby is going to be the Son of God, you take note. That’s what Luke told us in the Christmas story:

Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.[3]

Mary never forgot who Jesus was. She always remembered what he was capable of. And in that respect, her request is incredibly admirable.

Do you ever think too little of Jesus? Do you relegate him to the realm of the spiritual and distant eternal, but not really think much about what he can do for your physical and present needs? Do you assume that Jesus doesn’t care about the little things, like whether your car starts or your cough stops, so you don’t bother him with them? Have you forgotten that he is with you every moment of every day or neglected to give him the glory and praise and thanks he deserves for all that he does for you day after day?

It's easy to forget about Jesus or to dismiss him as a viable option for help or to think that our needs as too small for his concern. Mary didn’t do that, but did she still think too little of him? What was she asking him to do? Save a party? Save the bride and the groom some embarrassment? Quench her thirst? Was she thinking more about Jesus? Was she trying to point him to an opportunity to demonstrate his glory and win more disciples? He only had 6 that we know of at this point in his ministry. Here was a room full of people! Let’s get the ball rolling, Jesus.

Whatever her aspirations – whatever her expectations – they weren’t big enough. And Jesus’ reply tells us as much:

“Woman, why do you involve me?” Jesus replied. “My hour has not yet come.”[4]

This is just another way for Jesus to say, “You have a different agenda than I do.” “You are so fixated and focused on these little things; I have something far greater in mind.”

Do you ever do that to Jesus? Do you set the bar too low for him? Do you ever treat him like a vending machine? I put in my coins; I get out my prize. I put in my prayers; I get back the blessings I want. Tit for tat, Jesus. I did my part; now it’s time for you to do yours. I scratched your back – I put in my 65 hours of volunteerism at church this year; I taught Sunday School; I pour out my time and my energy to provide for my family – now it’s time for you to scratch my back, e.g. to make my life easier, to spare me from embarrassment or shame, to preserve my kids from the problems I’ve been trying to shield them from for years.

Do you ever treat Jesus like a life preserver hanging on the side of a cruise ship? It’s nice to know that it’s there when you need it, but most of the time you’re glad you don’t. Most of the time it’s just decoration. When push comes to shove would you even know how to get down, let alone use it in a time of crisis?

It’s nice to know that Jesus is there if we ever need him, but deep down is the whole focus of your life to try to not need him – to stand on your own two feet and be self-sufficient? Is Jesus mostly just a decoration – something that looks nice but doesn’t make a measurable difference in your day to day? Has your faith in Jesus sat so idle on the shelf in some corner of your heart that in the moment of need you wouldn’t even know how to get it down, let alone put it to use?

Mary had expectations. Jesus’ were bigger. “My hour has not yet come,”[5] he said.

It’s interesting. John makes a big deal out of Jesus’ hour in his Gospel. Over and over we hear him saying something similar, e.g. “My time has not yet come.” But then there’s this moment three years after this wedding, while Jesus and these same disciples are gathered in Jerusalem for the Passover and Jesus says,

“The hour has come…”[6]

“It is for this very reason I came to this hour…”[7]

“Now is the time…”[8]

And then he tells us what his expectation is. He never forgot who he was. He always remembered what he was capable of. And it was always immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.[9]

This is what Jesus said in Jerusalem:

“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”[10]

If you want to play devil’s advocate – which I don’t always advocate – you could make the case that Jesus could have won a vat of glory at the wedding of Cana. The sommelier was blown away at the quality of his wine. The bride and the groom would have been eternally grateful. The wedding guests would have been telling that story for years. But that wasn’t the kind of glory that Jesus was looking for. He says so himself:

“Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”[11]

This is a real “give a man a fish” kind of scenario, isn’t it? Jesus could have spent his days wandering the Galilean hillsides crashing weddings and filling cups. But when that wine was gone, there’d be nothing left but the memory and a story. Jesus had a greater goal in mind. We heard John express it before:

What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of the signs through which he revealed his glory, and his disciples believed him.[12]

Jesus didn’t perform miracles to gain attention. He performed miracles to help strengthen his disciples’ faith, to confirm their belief in him, to assure them that he was who he said he was. And he was more than just a miracle-worker with a refined palette for fermented grapes.

“Now my soul is troubled,” he said in Jerusalem, “and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour.”[13]

What was so troubling to Jesus in Jerusalem during the celebration of his last Passover that would tempt him to ask his Father to save him? It was the knowledge of what was about to happen to him – that that kernel of wheat was going to fall to the ground and die, that Jesus was going to be crucified.

That was Jesus’ expectation. That was why he had come. He never forgot who he was or what he was capable of. He didn’t lose sight of his purpose or lower the bar for success. He hadn’t come to impress or to amass a vast quantity of disciples. He hadn’t come to be a vending machine on demand or a life preserver on standby. He came to be our Saviour. To rescue us from our sin. To forgive us for our faulty expectations and fickle faith – and to render a far greater service than you or I – or Mary – could ever ask or imagine, i.e. to earn salvation at the cost of his life and to give us eternal life at his side forever in heaven.

That’s what Jesus came to do. And even if we put the best construction on Mary’s expectation for Jesus – that she wanted him to get the recognition that he deserved – miracles were never how that was going to happen. It wasn’t the time. That’s why he said in Jerusalem:

“Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” He said this to show the kind of death he was going to die.[14]

It was always all about his sacrifice. That’s where his glory was going to come. That’s what would win your heart and soul for him. That’s why only Mary and the disciples and a handful of servants even knew where that wonderful wine had come from. It was just a preview of greater things to come. It was a measuring stick by which to set our expectations of him.

So what are yours?

If I may, I want to give Mary her credit again. We can scoff, roll our eyes, even chastise Mary for suggesting something as silly as second act wine for Jesus’ first miracle, i.e. for going up to her Saviour and saying, “Jesus, do this…” But what an act of faith it was for her to take her rebuke from Jesus and to turn to those servants and say, “Do whatever he says.”

“Jesus, do this.” “Do whatever Jesus says.”

That’s the kind of change of heart you and I can have too. That’s the difference between “My will be done,” and “Thy will be done.” That’s the expression of heart that yields its expectations to its God whose promises and glory are immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.

Jesus’ first miracle was important and telling. It told us who our Saviour was and the important work he came to do – not to save our party or our honour, but to save our souls for time and eternity. Now is the time to raise our expectations to meet his reality. Amen.


[1] John 2:1-3

[2] John 2:11

[3] Luke 2:19

[4] John 2:4

[5] Ibid

[6] John 12:23

[7] John 12:27

[8] John 12:31

[9] Ephesians 3:20

[10] John 12:23

[11] John 12:24

[12] John 2:11

[13] John 12:27

[14] John 12:31-33

Identity Crisis Averted by Christ's Appearance

Titus 3:4-7

But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life.

Identity Crisis Averted by Christ’s Appearance

Are you a New Years Resolution kind of guy/gal, or does it all seem kind of hokey to you? Do you look forward to setting goals and ambitions for yourself, or you are jaded by all the broken promises you’ve made to yourself? When you buy a new calendar, are you one to look back on the year that just passed – with either pride or guilt in your heart – or are you one to look forward to the year ahead – with either anxiety or excitement in your heart?

All of the above are natural. And I would guess that depending on the precise second I ask you that question, your answer might change. Humans are complex creatures. We contain multitudes. Depending on the moment and the mood, we may be filled with guilt or giddiness, depression or anxiety, helplessness or hopefulness. It doesn’t matter whether you’re having a mid-life crisis or a quarter-life crisis, at times we all suffer from an identity crisis. Who am I? Who should I be? Who do I want to be? Why am I not that person right now?

It's frustrating. It can be discouraging, even crippling. But God has the cure for your identity crisis. Paul tells Titus about it in a passage for which Luther offered this profound commentary: This is a beautiful text. And it really is! And because it is, allow me to read it to you again in its entirety:

But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life.[1]

This passage positively exudes God’s grace and mercy. Paul doesn’t just turn on the tap for Titus; he opens the fire hose and blasts us with God’s saving work – a work that changes everything, including the answer to “Who am I?”

You may know that I’m a bit of a grammar nerd. Forgive me for taking you back to grade school English class for a second, but do you remember what two kinds of words every single sentence in the English language can be boiled down to? The subject and the verb (and sometimes an object). Everything else just describes, modifies, explains those two words. If you look at the two sentences that we read from Paul’s letter to Titus, can you tell which two/three words both sentences can be boiled down to?

He saved us. Not once, but twice in two sentences: he saved us. Every other word is expanding on that theme, explaining it, adding layers of nuance and meaning to it. But in the end, it comes down to: he saved us.

“From what?” you might ask. Paul makes it clear. One sentence earlier he says:

At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another.[2]

God didn’t save us from natural disasters or raging fires, from war or tariffs or a parliament on pause. He saved us from ourselves.

We were foolish, disobedient, deceived. By nature God gave us consciences that have a sense of right and wrong, but how often don’t we ignore them and contradict them? God gave us brains and intellect to hear and understand his revealed Word and will for our lives, but how often don’t we fail to listen and learn and actively choose to grow in our faith and knowledge of him and instead fill our minds with mush and nonsense, e.g. mindless recreation and the latest theories from YouTube theologians?

We were enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures – those desires that we can’t refuse; those uninvited, even intrusive, thoughts and temptations that we may not seek out, but certainly don’t resist and all too often give our hearts wholly over to.

We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. How much anger do you live with? How often do you feel bitterness and resentment seizing the helm of your heart and directing the course of your life? How often do you look at other people and what they do and get irritated not only at the evil they do but with the unspoken confession that you wish you could get away with it too?

We were in trouble. We’ve messed up. Our lives have been characterized by sinful behaviour. And if somehow you listened to that list of rebellious acts against God and couldn’t identify with any of them, Paul has a word for you too:

He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy.[3]

In other words, you are not as good as you think you are. And no amount of good you’ve done in your life can begin to makeup up for or overshadow the evil you’ve have said, thought, or done. No side-by-side comparisons with the serial killers and senior citizen scam artists can diminish your guilt. You needed to be saved, because you’re a sinner. That’s who you are. You are part of the problem. You are the cause of the pain and hurt even and especially in the lives of the ones you love.

I am a sinner. That’s a hard truth and a difficult realization to come to. I don’t like that version of myself. I feel guilty for what I’ve done. I’m tired of trying (and failing). At times I even feel helpless and hopeless.

And if that’s where you are, spiritually speaking, in the New Year, how does that make you feel when you look back on the year that was? What are you going to think about the year ahead? What kind of resolutions are you going to make for yourself? I’ve got to be better? Try harder? Make things right? All those things are true! But if we leave it to the strength of our resolve, we’ll revert back into this sinful lifestyle quicker than you spell 2025.

Thankfully, we have more than journaling or mobile apps or accountabilibuddies to keep us on track. We have the cure to our identity crisis – he saved us – and God’s saving work resolves every issue our sin has caused. Listen again to the layers of grace Paul adds on to that simple sentence:

But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because his mercy.[4]

The salvation that God has worked in us and for us is an act of his mercy and grace. It’s undeserved. It’s not a response to our worthiness or even our attempts to repent. It precedes them. His love came first. He sent his Son to appear, i.e. to enter this world and embody his kindness and love. To be the physical manifestation of that attitude in our God that does not hold grudges against our sin, that is not enslaved by his passion or deceived by our work-righteousness and self-righteousness. He sees right through us, and – as insane as it is to say about sinners – he loves us.

You are a sinner, but a sinner saved by grace. He saved you by sending his Son to die for your sins and to remove your guilt, i.e. to replace your guilt with his grace so that your identity fundamentally changes. You are a sinner, yes, but a sinner saved by grace. Your sin doesn’t define you anymore. It’s not an essential characteristic of your identity. It’s a reality, but it’s not who you are. At least, it’s not all that you are. You are a sinner saved by grace. And a sinner given incredible gifts of God’s grace.

He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life.[5]

Today is Baptism Sunday. It’s no surprise that we’d find it here too – the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit. In baptism, God applies the kindness and love of his Son demonstrated on a cross so many years ago and so many miles away to your life here and now. In baptism, God gives you a second chance – a rebirth. We can rightfully talk about it as a resurrection. We were dead in our sins, but he made us alive in the Christ Jesus into whose name we were baptized. Baptism is far more than a bath that washes our sins away; it makes you into a new person. It does more than give you a new lease on life; it gives you a whole new life that you get to live in Jesus’ name.

Baptism gives you that second chance of rebirth. It’s this moment in time – a snapshot in your life – that changes your life. That’s why we write baptismal certificates for you to hang on your wall. That’s why we engrave the date in stone to be a reminder forever. But it is so much more than that. As miraculous as it is, it’s even more than “just” rebirth. It’s also that renewal that we need every day.

Baptism is one of the answers to the prayers we pray like David did:

Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.[6]

Baptism continues to be a blessing to you every day of your life, because through baptism God pours out his Holy Spirit on you, to live in your heart by faith, to strengthen your faith every time you hear his Word, to empower you to resist sin and temptation, and to give you the hope of an inheritance in heaven.

You are not alone in your struggle. Through baptism, the Holy Spirit is with. You are not helpless to resist temptation. You are filled with his power. Your future is not a foregone conclusion of sin and guilt and shame. Through baptism you get to live in and under God’s grace every day of your life stretching into eternity.

That’s why in our congregation, we don’t just engrave the date in stone, but we submerge that stone in the same font that many of you were baptized in as that daily reminder that God’s grace still covers you, that he continues to forgive your relapses into sin and disgrace, and that he continues to strengthen you by his Holy Spirit to put that sin behind you and look forward into forever with a hope that can only come from him.

There are times in our lives when we feel schizophrenic, i.e. when the struggle with sin seems too great to bear, when we’re frustrated with who we are and who we want to be and the distance between the two. But in baptism, God tells you who you are and it’s the best thing you could be. You are a sinner saved by grace, which means your guilt is gone, you’re not alone. You may be tired, but you’re not helpless. He gives you hope through the salvation of his Son and the outpouring of his Spirit. He saved you. Amen.


[1] Titus 3:4-7

[2] Titus 3:3

[3] Titus 3:5

[4] Titus 3:4-5

[5] Titus 3:5-7

[6] Psalm 51:10