By Charlie Houghton, Lay Preacher
Lord, please open our hearts and minds to your presence as we seek to better understand your good news. Amen. Please be seated.
    Epiphany and many of the Sundays that follow Christmas are some of my favorites. The gospels are filled with wonderful stories, and this Sunday is no exception.  It is the story of a wonderful celebration; a wedding feast.  A wedding deserves a great celebration.  While marriage is a legal contract between two people being married, Christian marriage is more than just a legal contract.  It is a covenant between two persons in the presence of God and the community.  It is important and it is sacred.
    Let’s consider this gospel in the context of the time in which it occurs.  Mary, and the brothers of Jesus are guests at a wedding in Cana.  Soon Jesus, also an invited guest, and his earliest apostles arrive as well.  It is likely that the bride or groom is related to the family.  In these times, Jewish weddings frequently lasted for a week or longer.  Hospitality was extremely important, with plenty of food and wine for the duration of the celebration.  In this time and culture, poor hospitality was a serious affront, and running out of wine would have been the epitome of poor hospitality.  
    The gospel begins, “On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there.” (John 2:1) And so it was that the first miracle of Jesus’ ministry occurred at a wedding where the groom’s family ran out of wine well before the guests ran out of thirst. While from this point forward, miracles will be quite public, this first miracle is witnessed only by Jesus’ apostles, his mother, and the servants. It is important, however, to think about the last verse of this Gospel:                                                                          “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.”
    When Mary notices that the wine is running low she brings her concerns to her son. Jesus answers, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.”  Some scholars have suggested that Jesus’ answer to his mother was not particularly respectful, which seems unlikely. Interestingly, the New International Version adds the word “dear” before woman.  His mother is clearly not concerned about his answer, however, and overrides him by simply saying to the servants “Do whatever he tells you”. 
    With that simple statement, Mary orchestrates her son’s entry into his public life – his ministry. Mary is a woman of strength and heart. Her initial conversation with Jesus is quiet and without fuss.   While he seems to believe that it is not the time to begin his public life, Mary is completely sure that it is time.  Once Jesus changes the water to wine and sends it to the host to taste, the bridegroom gets credit for the excellent wine, while Jesus remains in the background.  In the miracles that follow this one, it is clear that these wonders are the work of Jesus. They are witnessed by many people, sometimes into the thousands. So why not this miracle?  Some scholars think it is because this miracle is meant to prevent the bridegroom’s embarrassment.  Others have offered the explanation that Jesus was still a bit on the fence about beginning his public life.  And still others have suggested that this is a moment of creating for the joy of creating.  This is a celebration, filled with joy and community.  
    And what should we learn from this? I guess we could learn that moms are generally right and should be listened to.  Actually, I do believe that Mary has much to teach us in this gospel.  Mary’s concern for the young couple is an act of love.  She is not concerned with what she can gain from asking Jesus to help them.  She also has enormous trust in Jesus, that he will do the right thing. Mary is a woman of courage and faith.  She does not have to know where this is going to follow her heart, to allow her faith to guide her.  And what is faith? The closest the Bible comes to defining faith is Hebrews 11:1, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” There is so much in scripture that speaks of faith.  When I looked to find a scriptural definition of faith, there were so many citations that I quickly became overwhelmed.  Finally, taking pieces of different readings and a little of my own twist, I finally came up with this:  Faith is much more than intellectual agreement; it means putting your trust in God and having confidence that God will fulfill God’s promises. 
    I sometimes feel like I am stuck in pea soup fog on my faith journey.  I can get stuck in fear when I cannot seem to see the way forward.  My prayer at these times is a simple plea to help me find the path I should be following. I am reminded of a story from Francis Murphy, a Presbyterian minister.  He writes: “A house caught fire one night and a young boy was forced to climb on to the roof to escape. His father stood on the ground below with outstretched arms, calling to his son, "Jump! I’ll catch you." He knew the boy had to jump to save his life. All the boy could see, however, was flames, smoke, and blackness. As you can imagine, he was afraid to leave the roof, but his father kept yelling: "Jump! I will catch you." But the boy shouted back, "Daddy, I can’t see you." Then the father replied, "But I can see you and that’s all that matters.”  Just as Christ sees us, and that’s all that matters.  Know that is good to be seen.  When we are seen, we are not alone. Mary understood this as she encouraged Jesus to fix the wine problem. Mary knew that not seeing God definitely did not equal not being seen by God. Her faith allowed her to move forward even if she wasn’t sure exactly where the path would lead. 
    Five words.  “Do whatever he tells you.” This simple yet powerful statement still resonates with us centuries later. Just as she got the attention of the servants at the wedding, I believe Mary is hoping to get our attention now. I can almost see her standing near me today and quietly directing me toward Jesus and softly saying, “Do whatever he tells you.”          Amen                   

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By Lay Preacher, Charlie Houghton

​May the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.  Amen

As Sister Joan Chittister noted in a 2017 interview with Emily McFarland Miller regarding Ash Wednesday and the start of Lent,  “The God who made us dust knows we're dust. We don't have to feel like perpetual failures because we aren't more than we are, and we don't have to be in contest and contention with everybody around us, because once I know myself and realize I have limitations, then two things happen: I realize my need for you, and I do not expect more from you than I expect from myself. So mercy comes with it, joy comes with it, authenticity comes with it, and freedom comes with it. ”[1]

 This day is a gateway.  As we move into Lent, we begin a journey from nothing – dust – to everything – where God sends us God’s own son to teach us how to live in a way that is pleasing to God.  This is the beginning of a time of reflection and action.  We are called to reflect on our lives.  How is our prayer life?  Do we spend meaningful time in prayer and reflection?  Do we honor Sabbath to rest and reset? 
 
Action requires us to look at both what we are doing and how we are doing it.  The Gospel talks about doing good things for the purpose of being noticed while doing those good things.  Drawing attention to ourselves while doing good works can actually detract from them.  These good works become more about us and less about the people we suggest we are helping.  Sometimes it means that because we are not paying attention to what others need, we cannot provide appropriately for them.  What we really hope to achieve is quiet faith in action.  That is to say, we act in love and not for power. 
 
As Matthew notes in tonight’s gospel, “Jesus said, ‘Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them’” (Matthew 6:1).  Yet here we are, ready to put a cross made of ashes on our foreheads for anyone to see.  How do we reconcile this with the idea of not “practicing our piety before others”?
 
  It is thought that ashes are a sign of humility, penitence and mortality.  Ashes are often a sign of mourning in Scripture.  For example, in the book of Job, Job sat in ashes during his afflictions (Job 2:8-10); and in chapter 3 of Jonah, when Nineveh was called to repent, the people, including even the King, immediately turned to God, acknowledged their sin, and donned sackcloth and ashes in repentance. (Jonah 3:1-10) 
 
Ash Wednesday sets the tone for Lent.  This is a time of self reflection and prayer.  The ashes we wear on our foreheads represent our repentance and acknowledgment of the mistakes we have made over this past year.  Yet embedded in this repentance is the knowledge that ours is a forgiving God whose love and mercy save us.  The origins of Lent are thought to date back to 325 CE, and the length of Lent is thought to honor Jesus’ time spent in the desert after being baptized and before the start of his ministry.[2]

The Rev. Canon Porter Taylor, in an article entitled “Entering Lent with Intentionality” says, “Lent is not a time to earn forgiveness for your sins. It is not a time to begrudgingly give something up temporarily only to greedily pick it back up after Easter. It is not a time for false humility or personal piety. Lent is not only a tradition for the liturgically minded.

I believe that Lent is for the priesthood of all believers.

I believe that Lent is full of hope.”[3]

I agree with Rev. Porter and Sr. Joan that Lent can be filled with hope. After all, at the end of Lent is the glorious season of Easter.  But our Lent is only just beginning.  And we still need to journey through Lent to the foot of the cross before we can reach the empty tomb.  And it seems really relevant that we bring ourselves to the foot of the cross as we see the state the world is in right now. 
 
It is difficult to look at the world in hope when there is war in Ukraine and Israel; continuing refusal to meet the challenges of climate change by many political and corporate leaders; unwavering support on the part of many politicians for the NRA’s unwillingness to compromise on even the smallest measures when increasing gun violence often hurts the most vulnerable of our society — our children who should feel and be safe while in school.  Many things that are important to us seem  out of reach, beyond our abilities to impact them.  And that may very well be true.  Certainly my own sphere of influence does not include international relations or even the ability to give our planet a fighting chance.  But that does not mean that I get a pass.  If lent is to be hopeful for me, I have to make the effort to participate in some kind of action that makes a difference. 
 
Sr. Joan Chittister has a suggestion for how we might participate in something that seems quite simple, but may be more profound than we realize.  In a talk she gave at a conference, she suggests saying this silently to everyone and everything you see for thirty days, but I would suggest you keep it for the people you run across, and say it aloud if you can convince yourself to do so, “I wish you happiness now and whatever will bring happiness to you in the future.”  It is a small gesture, but it could be  important for both you and the person to whom you say it.  And Sr. Joan suggests we see what happens to our own souls.  I believe a meaningful Lent lies not in what we are willing to give up, but in what we are willing to contribute.

Sometimes what I feel able to do is simply to pray.  I found some of this prayer online, and rewrote it with my own thoughts guiding it.  It is my prayer for hope when I worry that I have too little.  It is something I will pray daily throughout Lent in order to remember that Lent is a time of hope.  It is a time when I will try to create within myself a light to shine in the darkness, a light to guide others home.  So in this difficult and confusing time, I offer this prayer:  Heavenly Father and Mother of us all, in times of darkness and uncertainty, I turn to You for hope. You are the source of all hope and the light that shines in the darkness. Fill my heart with hope and light, Lord, and help me trust in Your plan, even when I cannot see the way.  I ask this through our God, Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen
 
 
 
 


[1]  Emily Mcfarlan Miller, The Salt Lake City Tribune, Religion section, April 20, 2017, Interview with Sr. Joan Chittister
 

[2] Jack Dutton, Newsweek, February 22, 2023, “Ash Wednesday: Why Christians Put Ashes on Their Forehead
 

[3] Rev. Canon Porter C. Taylor, News & Stories From The Field, Entering Lent With Intentionality, February 12, 2015
 

By Charlie Houghton, Lay Preacher

​May the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.  Amen
As Sister Joan Chittister noted in a 2017 interview with Emily McFarland Miller regarding Ash Wednesday and the start of Lent,  “The God who made us dust knows we're dust. We don't have to feel like perpetual failures because we aren't more than we are, and we don't have to be in contest and contention with everybody around us, because once I know myself and realize I have limitations, then two things happen: I realize my need for you, and I do not expect more from you than I expect from myself. So mercy comes with it, joy comes with it, authenticity comes with it, and freedom comes with it. ”
 This day is a gateway.  As we move into Lent, we begin a journey from nothing – dust – to everything – where God sends us God’s own son to teach us how to live in a way that is pleasing to God.  This is the beginning of a time of reflection and action.  We are called to reflect on our lives.  How is our prayer life?  Do we spend meaningful time in prayer and reflection?  Do we honor Sabbath to rest and reset?  
Action requires us to look at both what we are doing and how we are doing it.  The Gospel talks about doing good things for the purpose of being noticed while doing those good things.  Drawing attention to ourselves while doing good works can actually detract from them.  These good works become more about us and less about the people we suggest we are helping.  Sometimes it means that because we are not paying attention to what others need, we cannot provide appropriately for them.  What we really hope to achieve is quiet faith in action.  That is to say, we act in love and not for power.  
As Matthew notes in tonight’s gospel, “Jesus said, ‘Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them’” (Matthew 6:1).  Yet here we are, ready to put a cross made of ashes on our foreheads for anyone to see.  How do we reconcile this with the idea of not “practicing our piety before others”? 
    It is thought that ashes are a sign of humility, penitence and mortality.  Ashes are often a sign of mourning in Scripture.  For example, in the book of Job, Job sat in ashes during his afflictions (Job 2:8-10); and in chapter 3 of Jonah, when Nineveh was called to repent, the people, including even the King, immediately turned to God, acknowledged their sin, and donned sackcloth and ashes in repentance. (Jonah 3:1-10)  
Ash Wednesday sets the tone for Lent.  This is a time of self reflection and prayer.  The ashes we wear on our foreheads represent our repentance and acknowledgment of the mistakes we have made over this past year.  Yet embedded in this repentance is the knowledge that ours is a forgiving God whose love and mercy save us.  The origins of Lent are thought to date back to 325 CE, and the length of Lent is thought to honor Jesus’ time spent in the desert after being baptized and before the start of his ministry.
The Rev. Canon Porter Taylor, in an article entitled “Entering Lent with Intentionality” says, “Lent is not a time to earn forgiveness for your sins. It is not a time to begrudgingly give something up temporarily only to greedily pick it back up after Easter. It is not a time for false humility or personal piety. Lent is not only a tradition for the liturgically minded.
I believe that Lent is for the priesthood of all believers.
I believe that Lent is full of hope.”
I agree with Rev. Porter and Sr. Joan that Lent can be filled with hope. After all, at the end of Lent is the glorious season of Easter.  But our Lent is only just beginning.  And we still need to journey through Lent to the foot of the cross before we can reach the empty tomb.  And it seems really relevant that we bring ourselves to the foot of the cross as we see the state the world is in right now.  
It is difficult to look at the world in hope when there is war in Ukraine and Israel; continuing refusal to meet the challenges of climate change by many political and corporate leaders; unwavering support on the part of many politicians for the NRA’s unwillingness to compromise on even the smallest measures when increasing gun violence often hurts the most vulnerable of our society — our children who should feel and be safe while in school.  Many things that are important to us seem  out of reach, beyond our abilities to impact them.  And that may very well be true.  Certainly my own sphere of influence does not include international relations or even the ability to give our planet a fighting chance.  But that does not mean that I get a pass.  If lent is to be hopeful for me, I have to make the effort to participate in some kind of action that makes a difference.  
Sr. Joan Chittister has a suggestion for how we might participate in something that seems quite simple, but may be more profound than we realize.  In a talk she gave at a conference, she suggests saying this silently to everyone and everything you see for thirty days, but I would suggest you keep it for the people you run across, and say it aloud if you can convince yourself to do so, “I wish you happiness now and whatever will bring happiness to you in the future.”  It is a small gesture, but it could be  important for both you and the person to whom you say it.  And Sr. Joan suggests we see what happens to our own souls.  I believe a meaningful Lent lies not in what we are willing to give up, but in what we are willing to contribute.
Sometimes what I feel able to do is simply to pray.  I found some of this prayer online, and rewrote it with my own thoughts guiding it.  It is my prayer for hope when I worry that I have too little.  It is something I will pray daily throughout Lent in order to remember that Lent is a time of hope.  It is a time when I will try to create within myself a light to shine in the darkness, a light to guide others home.  So in this difficult and confusing time, I offer this prayer:  Heavenly Father and Mother of us all, in times of darkness and uncertainty, I turn to You for hope. You are the source of all hope and the light that shines in the darkness. Fill my heart with hope and light, Lord, and help me trust in Your plan, even when I cannot see the way.  I ask this through our God, Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen

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