Christ and the Ordinary

In John 2, we have the account of Jesus turning water into wine. Every time I’ve read this, all my life, it’s always been about the wine. “This was Jesus’ first miracle” – etc. Except it wasn’t supposed to be His first miracle. He didn’t want to do it, but He did it anyway, because His mother asked, and then didn’t listen when He politely refused.

Mary is probably about 46 years old at this time, I’m guessing, and clearly used to getting her way. She reminds me of the lady who played Ray’s mother on “Everybody Loves Raymond.” This is a far cry from the Mary who sings the Magnificat in Luke 1 out of sheer awe of God.

So what happened? I think ordinary life happened. I think the whole family was just accustomed to Him doing miracles on a daily basis. “Hey Jesus, your brother has a nasty infection. Take care of it, will you? And don’t forget to feed the sheep.” They had become quite accustomed to having the Lord at their disposal.

And don’t we do the same? I realized the other day that I totally take Jesus for granted. I’ve become accustomed to Him working in my life. But He was only “ordinary” for about 33 years out of all eternity. The rest of the time, this is Who He is:

(from Revelation 1) When I turned to see who was speaking to me, I saw seven gold lampstands. And standing in the middle of the lampstands was someone like the Son of Man. He was wearing a long robe with a gold sash across his chest. His head and his hair were white like wool, as white as snow. And his eyes were like flames of fire. His feet were like polished bronze refined in a furnace, and his voice thundered like mighty ocean waves. He held seven stars in his right hand, and a sharp two-edged sword came from his mouth. And his face was like the sun in all its brilliance. When I saw him, I fell at his feet as if I were dead. But he laid his right hand on me and said, “Don’t be afraid! I am the First and the Last. I am the living one. I died, but look—I am alive forever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and the grave.

This is the stuff they make movies out of, you know? Even a small Christmas light bulb, if you put your eye up to it, is blazing white. It’s so small, but you can still hardly look at it. If Christ is “like the sun in all its brilliance,” then no wonder John fell down as though dead.

So what is the solution? I think it might be found in Revelation 2:

I have this against you: You have abandoned the love you had at first. Remember then how far you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first.

Repent, and remember your First Love. That is all.