Master of the feast

John 2:1-12

When the wine ran out, the servants must have panicked. Surely some of the blame would fall on them. The humiliated master of the feast would be looking for a scapegoat. When Mary comes to Jesus—was she a friend of the master?—He almost seems to be smiling when He says, “What does this have to do with Me?” But He can’t refuse His mother, and she trusts Him completely.

The disciples must have wondered what He was up to, this man they still barely knew. And what did the servants think as they labored to fill the heavy jars with water, hauling bucket after bucket of something they didn’t need? Why is He wasting our time? We should be out looking for more wine. Who is this man, anyway? Their work must have seemed futile. And yet they obeyed.

Were they frustrated? Resentful? Stressed and anxious? Merely curious? As Jesus watched them work, was he grinning at them? Were they compelled by His presence? Were they afraid? What was it about Him that compelled them to do this?

We see only that they did as they were asked to do, whether or not they obeyed willingly. And then, when He told them to take that water to the master of the feast? Did they tremble as they did so? Did they laugh at his lunacy? Did they sneak a sip along the way? (I would have.)

I imagine their knowing glances when the master tasted the wine, assuming it came from the bridegroom. I wonder if they looked back at Jesus and saw Him still grinning at them. Our little secret. He showed Himself that day to be the true Mater of the feast, though unseen.

And what that must have done for them, His making them a part of His miracle. Suddenly they were no longer servants but confidants in a wonderful plan, a joke almost, of the biggest blessing.

His disciples saw all. I wonder what they remembered later, maybe feeling sometimes that their labors were futile, as they obeyed feeling like not enough, like water poured out, and then the Master, unseen, turned all their effort into the richest wine.