The miracle begins when the wine runs out

Jan 17, 2025

2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)
Readings: Isaiah 62:1-5;
1 Corinthians 12:4-11;
Gospel: John 2:1-11

“They have no wine.” With these words, Mary reveals a profound truth about our lives — a truth we all encounter at some point. There comes a day when the wine runs out. The glass sits empty. The celebration feels over. On that day, life can seem barren and dry, stripped of its vibrancy and vitality. Nothing within us feels alive or growing. Our world appears colourless, tasteless, and void of the richness we once knew. The bouquet of life is gone, leaving us feeling as though we are merely existing, not truly living.

Mary’s words invite us to pause and reflect deeply. Where has the wine of our life run dry? Which relationships feel strained or lifeless? What parts of our soul remain unfulfilled and empty?

Each of us carries a story about the day the wine ran out. It might be the pain of losing a loved one, the end of a cherished friendship, or the breakdown of a marriage. Some stories echo a search for love and acceptance, while others reflect a thirst for meaning and purpose. Many tell of guilt, disappointment, or lingering regrets. For some, it’s the fear of the unknown or the weight of failure and selfdoubt. Others speak of an unnamed longing, a deep desire they cannot fully articulate. Stories of unanswered prayers, lingering doubts, and unspoken questions are familiar to most of us. And these are not just stories of the past — some of us are living them even now.

Behind each of our stories lies a deep hope and longing — a desire for the wedding of our life. We approach the wedding at Cana not merely as guests or spectators but as active participants, as a bride or groom, yearning for union, intimacy, and wholeness.

Yet, despite our best efforts, good intentions, and hard work, the wine of our life often runs out. No matter how frequently we try to refill our glass, it remains empty. There is never enough. As time goes on, we become painfully aware that we cannot replenish the wine from our own resources.

When that day comes, it feels like a disaster, an embarrassment, a failure even. Perhaps that is how the bride and groom at Cana felt when the wine ran out. Mary’s words to Jesus — “They have no wine” — are not a condemnation or judgment but a simple acknowledgment, a diagnosis of the situation.

Too often, we live under the illusion of our own self-sufficiency. That illusion shatters on the day the wine runs out, leaving the jars of our life empty and dry. In that moment, we are confronted with an eternal truth: we are the recipients, not the creators, of our life. We were never meant, nor expected, to rely solely on our own resources. Christ is the true vintner and the chief steward of our lives.

No matter how it feels or what we think, the day the wine runs out marks the beginning of a miracle. Christ doesn’t merely refill our glasses; He transforms our lives, turning water into wine. It is, after all, the third day — the day of resurrection and new life. What was once colourless becomes vibrant red. What lacked flavour now tingles the tongue. What had no fragrance now carries a full bouquet. What seemed lifeless begins to ferment, becoming active and alive.

On the third day, our lives are filled to the brim with the good wine — intoxicating us with the life of God, inebriating us with the blood of Christ, and leaving us under the influence of the Holy Spirit. That’s the miracle of Cana, and it has never ceased. Every moment of every day, Christ pours Himself into the empty jars of our lives. He is the good wine — extravagant, abundant, endless.

Every time that good wine is poured, transformation follows. We are brought “out of error into truth, out of sin into righteousness, out of death into life” (Book of Common Prayer, p. 368). How it happens is a mystery I cannot explain, but I know it does happen. I have tasted the good wine. I have witnessed the miracle of Cana in my own life and in the lives of others.

I have seen death turn into life, sorrow into joy, and despair into hope. I have witnessed fear transform into courage and watched people accomplish things they never thought possible. I have seen empty lives replenished and broken marriages renewed, becoming vibrant and life-giving.

These and countless others are the miracles of Cana. They are the moments when Christ’s glory is revealed, and we are illumined, shining with the radiance of His presence. His glory becomes ours — a shared radiance, two lives united in one.

“They have no wine,” Mary said. But they will. The miracle always begins when the wine runs out.