Author: Christine Wyrtzen

Standing nearby were six stone water jars, used for Jewish ceremonial washing. Each could hold twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus told the servants, “Fill the jars with water.” When the jars had been filled, he said, “Now dip some out, and take it to the master of ceremonies.” So the servants followed his instructions.  John 2:6-8. NLT

This was Jesus’ first miracle.  Early into the span of a week-long wedding fest, the hosts ran out of wine.  In a shame and honor culture, this was a big deal.  Jesus had compassion on this family as he has compassion on each of our families, in the dailyness of our lives.  

Jesus performed a miracle for the hosts, for the bride and groom, and it involved using six stone water jars that stood nearby.  Each held thirty gallons of water that were used exclusively for ceremonial washing.  But that was not their purpose that day.  Jesus told the servants to fill them with water, then to dip their pitchers into the liquid and distribute the drink to the guests. 

The water became wine.  Why would Jesus do this as His first miracle?   He didn’t reach out to heal the sick, or to spiritually deliver a demonized man, or to even feed the poor.  This seemingly frivolous act can leave us a bit confused but there are beautiful symbolisms and layers to explore.   

Jesus told the servants to fill each stone jar to the brim with water.  Six jars, holding thirty gallons each, produced approximately a thousand pitchers of wine. An over-abundance. This new wine wasn’t of the cheap variety either.  It was expensive and of the highest quality.  

This was the first time, publicly, that He messed with Jewish traditions.  He took vessels set apart for holy things and used them for something else.  In the next three years, He would turn ceremonial laws upside down.  He would stretch Jewish leaders to the max when He chose to work on the Sabbath or when He introduced talk about the heart being more important than rule-keeping. 

The physical manifestation of new wine happened at a wedding in Cana.  But the spiritual manifestation had been prophesied long ago.   ‘Israel will live in safety; Jacob will dwell secure in a land of grain and new wine, where the heavens drop dew.’ Deuteronomy 33:28   Do you remember that on the day of Pentecost, the crowd believed Jesus’ disciples to be drunk with wine when the Holy Spirit descended upon them?  This ‘running over the Spirit’ still happens as I pray for God to make me a new wineskin, flexible to hold the full outpouring of His Spirit.   

If I’m clinging to a number of traditions and habits like ceremonial jars, show me.  I empty myself of all self-works and look to You for the new wine of Your Spirit.  Amen

The next day there was a wedding celebration in the village of Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there,and Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the celebration. The wine supply ran out during the festivities, so Jesus’ mother told him, “They have no more wine.” “Dear woman, that’s not our problem,” Jesus replied. “My time has not yet come.”but his mother told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”  John 2:1-5

Jesus gently rebuked His mother.  We’ve never encountered anything like this before.  What had she done?  Mary’s suggestion didn’t feel self-serving.  The rebuke couldn’t have felt very good if you put yourself in Mary’s place.  It’s taken some years for me to begin to understand why it happened.  The clues come from other places in the Gospel where Jesus addressed members of His family in ways that probably wounded their pride.  

In this particular public setting, Mary presumed upon Jesus’ divinity at the wedding feast but Jesus exalted his sonship to His Father in heaven above his sonship to his mother.  He had a radical allegiance to God’s will above his mother’s will.  Jesus worked against Mary’s assumption that perhaps she had an inside track.  He made it clear that no physical relationship on earth would control him.  His mother would have no special advantage to guide his ministry or to even receive His salvation.  Water being turned to wine would not be at a mother’s bidding.  As the story unfolds, we’ll see that Jesus turns to His Father for direction and permission.  

I recall the time in Luke 11 that a woman in the crowd raised her voice and said to Jesus.  ‘Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts at which you nursed!’  But He replied, ‘Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!’

Jesus said later on in Luke, ‘If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple.’  Luke 14:26  ‘Hate’ in this context doesn’t mean emotional hatred. It means preference; deferring to the One who takes priority.  As adults, we are to leave the ways of our parents if what they expect of us conflicts with the voice of our Father. This is not an easy way to live but necessary for all disciples.  When we struggle with the tension it often brings in relationships, we are comforted that Jesus knows what it’s like and He’s walked this journey before we did. 

There was a time when Jesus addressed me, in my spirit, about the ways I caved to a certain family member’s whims and suggestions.  I felt it was easier to give in than face the tension.  I felt I heard Him say, “Christine, don’t do that anymore.  Tell them you need to talk to me about it.”  It did rattle the relationship but I look back and I’m amazed at the courage and grace that was supernaturally made available to me.  

For every one who has to say no to family today for righteous reasons, let them feel the warmth of Your favor.  Amen

Jesus asked him, “Do you believe this just because I told you I had seen you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than this.” Then he said, “I tell you the truth, you will all see heaven open and the angels of God going up and down on the Son of Man, the one who is the stairway between heaven and earth.^”  John 1:50-51 NLT

Our lives are fraught with challenges; earthly cares that rob our sleep and our peace.  We pray for God to intervene.  Sometimes He does and often, with quick and stunning results.  He brings a single financial miracle, or a healing, or a breakthrough in a relationship.  We are left to exclaim, “Wow, Lord!  You can do that?”  

This is the type of narrative between Nathaniel and Jesus.  Nathaniel, earlier in the day, had spent some time alone under a fig tree.  Yet when Jesus meets him, He tells Nathaniel that He saw him earlier – enjoying the shade of that tree.  Nathaniel knew he had been entirely alone and yet, somehow, Jesus knew he was there and saw him supernaturally.  He was left to also ponder, “This man can do this?”   And yet, that was such a small thing in the bigger scope of Jesus’ power and glory.  Jesus saw a man under a tree who thought he had been unseen but earlier in history, He created man out of dust.  Nathaniel was amazed that Jesus saw what had been invisible to others but earlier in history, Jesus proved He was the Lord of infinity.  

Jesus wants Nathaniel to know that if he is impressed by this earlier encounter under the tree, he hasn’t seen anything yet!  This announcement of ‘going up and down the stairway of heaven’ is an admission of being the God-man who spans and connects two worlds.  He is Lord of heaven and earth. When Jacob wrestled with the sovereignty of Yahweh, he saw this same ‘coming and going’ on a supernatural stairway.  

What a God I serve.  The things He has done that have left me speechless are miniscule in the larger scope of His power.  The miracles, which to me have changed me forever, will pale in comparison to the things I will see Jesus do.  Some things He will accomplish while I’m still alive, but most glorious things await me in the new kingdom.  Won’t it be glorious to finally see the open heavens and for our spiritual eyesight to engage?  If you know Jesus, we will share it together.  

I really have no idea who powerful you are.  Not yet.  How could your Word possibly tell it all?  Yet, You will personally show me.  What a day, Jesus.  Amen

“How do you know about me?” Nathanael asked. Jesus replied, “I could see you under the fig tree before Philip found you.” Then Nathanael exclaimed, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God—the King of Israel!” John 1:48-49 NLT

In every love story, there is a moment of recognition where one soul sees into the soul of another and finds a place to rest and call home.  For many, like Nathaniel, it can be on the very first meeting.  A look, something said, the sound of a voice, it’s familiar and the stirring is deeply felt.  Like all love stories, these moments are personal, characterized by tenderness, and unexplainable to anyone else.

Matthew was a tax collector.  While in the middle of a work day, sitting at a tax booth, he looked up to see Jesus stop in front of him.  He said, “Follow me!”  Matthew got up from the table and never looked back.  There was instant recognition somewhere deep inside. Something had awakened.

On another occasion, Jesus walked down a road and called up to a man in the tree.  He called this lone sheep by name.  Zacchaeus.  The surprised man in the tree responded instantly and received Jesus joyfully into his home. He couldn’t help himself and lost all sense that he might be the talk of the town.

One earlier day, Jesus went into Galilee to find a man named Philip.  The call was the same. “Follow me,” Jesus said.  And he did. Philip went to find Nathaniel who questioned him about the validity of any man from Nazareth being good, worthy of following. But upon meeting Jesus for himself, that same moment of recognition happened between the two of them. Nathaniel’s spirit, quickened by the reaction to Jesus’ words, came to life. Words of new faith came out like a torrent.

When my last breath is drawn on this earth and I open my eyes on the shores of heaven, the thing I look forward to most is hearing Jesus welcome me home – by name.  None will have said ‘Christine’ quite like him. How many times will He say to me, “Christine, I saw you when you were . . . “ All the times I felt like I’d been alone will be healed in the presence of a love that had always been faithful.

Your voice can be heard in Scripture; it is also heard deep in my spirit. It speaks loudly, even in the sounds of nature. To all who recognize You as the One who spoke, we are forever changed. Amen

“Nazareth!” exclaimed Nathanael. “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” “Come and see for yourself,” Philip replied.  As they approached, Jesus said, “Now here is a genuine son of Israel—a man of complete integrity.” “How do you know about me?” Nathanael asked. Jesus replied, “I could see you under the fig tree before Philip found you.” Then Nathanael exclaimed, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God—the King of Israel!” John 1:46-49 NLT

No one has ever fallen in love with Jesus through the intimate stories of someone else’s faith encounter.  At best, the story inspired them and then opened the door for them to seek Jesus for themselves. Philip knew that Nathaniel would only be convinced about the Messiah if he saw Him personally.  That’s why he urged him, “Come and see.”

For Philip, the unmerited favor of God had just intersected his personal history and brought an experience the likes of which he would never forget.  Nothing in the future would eclipse the memory.  As he ran to Nathaniel, he knew that in just moments, the veil that limited Nathanael’s spiritual eyesight would be lifted as well.  He and Jesus would also engage in a personal discussion that would rock his world.

Are such defining moments possible today for the one who asks Jesus to reveal Himself to them?  Yes. There are moments that become mountaintops; encounters that become a Bethel. These are not limited to unbelievers seeking to be saved.  They are also for believers who have settled for monotony, who are trying to live on yesterday’s manna. We are to seek, listen, and pursue God relentlessly.  The glory of Jesus will surprise us again and again at unsuspecting times. An ordinary day will be turned upside down as the eternal penetrates the temporal.  God’s glory will fill our field of vision and earth’s trinkets will no longer impress us nor satisfy what it is we’re really craving.

Those around us may not see what we see but we know it is a holy moment.  We’ll take our shoes off even as we remember it.  In the afterglow, we’ll live dazed by the memory and tremble in the distraction of it.  Such is the condition of anyone who has seen God pass by and stopped to worship and be loved.  

We know it’s hard to capture it in words and tell someone else what happened.  That’s why we join the many other evangelists through the ages to say, “Come and see for yourself.”  

Lord, commune with us today in a place that doesn’t need words. Come to the ones we’ve been praying for who haven’t seen You yet.  Amen

Philip went to look for Nathanael and told him, “We have found the very person Moses and the prophets wrote about! His name is Jesus, the son of Joseph from Nazareth.”  “Nazareth!” exclaimed Nathanael. “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” John 1:45-46

God made us to learn wisdom from making conclusions based on solid facts. But limited facts can lead to unfounded generalizations. If I fall three out of five times when climbing a ladder, I might conclude that climbing a ladder is dangerous. (Not always.)  If every snake I’ve ever encountered has been a garden snake, I might conclude that all snakes are friendly. (Not true.)  Sometimes our conclusions are flawed, especially when we make them about people and people groups.  If I meet several members of one family and they are all rude, I shouldn’t conclude that the rest of them are contentious.  

I’m from upstate New York by birth but for the past twenty years, we’ve made our home near Atlanta, Georgia.  We love it here and will probably spend the rest of our lives here unless God has other plans. While living here however, I’ve heard countless generalizations that northerners are rude.  Why?  Generalizations were made from a handful of unfortunate encounters and all northerners have been cast in a poor light.  I can assure you that the New England people are warm and caring.  I grew up there – in a town of a thousand people. 

Nathanael spoke disparagingly of Nazareth, not believing that any good man, much less the Messiah, could come from such a place.  

Galilee was a despised region in the eyes of the more polished Palestinians of the South. The Galileans were accused of being rude, illiterate, and devoid of culture. Their pronunciation was said to be so thick that it led constantly to mortifying blunders, as when one could not tell from the word used whether a Galilean peasant had come to the market for an ass (khamor), wine (khemer), sheepskin (immer), or wool (‘immar). It was not to Galilee that the Judaean would naturally have looked for a great theological teacher.                                                                                 S.S. Times Biblical Illustrator

Why would God give Jesus a childhood in this disrespected setting?  Why set him back with the people of Palestine?  All the reasons are not known but this I do know ~ God looks with favor upon the humble and, more often than not, chooses this person for His most important work.  God chose a nation of slaves to be His family, not those from great pedigree.  God called the forgotten son of Jesse to be Israel’s greatest king.  God chooses the low and despised, the forgotten, the unqualified.  And from this place called Nazareth, a place that earned such little respect, came our Teacher, the very Son of God.  Can anything good from Nazareth?  Yes.  Our King of Kings.

Forgive me when I disqualify myself from Your favor based on self-evaluation. I forget who it is that loves me and called me out of obscurity.  Thank you.  Amen 

John testified, “I saw the Holy Spirit descending like a dove from heaven and resting upon him.  I didn’t know he was the one, but when God sent me to baptize with water, he told me, ‘The one on whom you see the Spirit descend and rest is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ John 1:32-33 NLT

When John baptized Jesus, the man who wore sackcloth and feasted on locusts and honey was breathless with wonder.  He lowered the Lamb of God beneath the surface of the river Jordan.  I can imagine that time stood still as this holy act unfolded in slow motion.  Jesus was submerged, and then a dove descended and rested on Him.  While this only lasted for a moment, neither was ever the same again.  This was confirmed as the heavens opened and God spoke words of blessing over His Son. 

John made it clear that though he baptized Jesus with water, it was a precursor to an even more stunning event. This Messiah would one day baptize His disciples with the Holy Spirit. This one event in the Jordan was loaded with prophetic overtones. As John poured water over the head of the Lamb of God, Jesus would pour the fullness of the Holy Spirit over each new convert. With the Spirit, He would seal them until the day of redemption.  What if we could have seen and heard this event at our moment of belief.  “I have called you and you are mine,” Jesus might have said.  Perhaps it unfolded in slow motion, like His own baptism.  One thing I know; my spirit was energized from something dead to something living.  This anointing of the Spirit of God accomplished its purpose.  I was blessed to live and serve in the power of the Messiah just as Jesus was blessed to live and serve in the power of the Spirit.  

Jesus left the holy place in the Jordan and entered the wilderness of temptation, testing, and faith building.  I left the holy place of my moment of conversion and entered the wilderness of life too. Daily, I am tempted. Daily, I am tested. Daily, I have opportunities for faith building. But unlike Jesus, I often doubt the love of the One who anointed me.  No matter how often I faint, the Spirit still offers to fill me with Himself. He sustains my faith.  Though it may flicker for moment but it is never extinguished. My spirit, even at this moment, feels the impact of these moment-by-moment encounters.   

My own baptism of Your Spirit was no less beautiful, no less miraculous, than the one You experienced as the waters of the Jordan washed over Your head. Jesus, Your Spirit still speaks words of love over me every single day. The anointing lives on. I am strengthened. Amen

Right here in the crowd is someone you do not recognize. Though his ministry follows mine, I’m not even worthy to be his slave and untie the straps of his sandal.”  John 1:26-17 NLT

John said, ‘I’m not even worthy to be [the Messiah’s] slave.’  Unworthiness has so many faces.  Only one is righteous, the others are not.   Yet, for any of us who have suffered with toxic unworthiness, we can agree that it feels like a holy thing.  Satan makes sure of that.  

Isaac Watts wrote the words, ‘For such a worm as I” when he composed the hymn, At The Cross.  Was he celebrating the glory of Christ as he penned them or was he consumed by his own unworthiness?  Reading the rest of the lyrics reveals that it was the first. 

Shame is supposed to be healed in the arms of a great Savior.  Perfect love melts all guilt and shame and if we were to see Jesus today and bask in the affection of His beating heart, we would be immersed in joy. I don’t believe unworthiness would have the last word. 

Satan is out to destroy the joy of our salvation.  If he can’t keep us from believing and following Jesus, then he’ll keep us from the fuel that will give us our joy.  God’s love.  He’ll twist scriptures to cause us to believe that we didn’t deserve to be chosen.  And, we didn’t deserve to be forgiven even more!  Unworthiness leads to self-hatred.  Any of us who have knelt at the feet of Jesus, never feeling like we could raise our heads out of the dirt, missed the joy of basking in the eyes of Love. 

What about yesterday’s mistakes?  What about yesterday’s sin?  Don’t these disqualify and prove unworthiness?  Not in heaven’s economy.  Love confers unconditional affection.  Love paid the price for the sin that God has already put out of sight.  Love lifts our head out of the dirt.  Love grants new mercies every morning.  Love celebrates the future.  Love does not remind us of unworthiness.  Our worship does that but it’s fleeting because it’s all in the context of celebration.  What does humility mixed with joyful confidence sound like?

Lord, you are so great, so holy.  I am sinful but oh, I am loved.  I am unworthy, yes, but You made me worthy.  I’m a dancer, not a wallower.  Amen

John replied in the words of the prophet Isaiah: “I am the voice shouting in the wilderness, ‘Clear the way for the Lord’s coming!'” John 1:23 NLT

If a stranger says, ‘Tell me about yourself.’ I might answer, “I am a mother, wife, author, musician, and director of a women’s ministry?”

But what might my reply be if I was interrogated in a hostile setting. “Who do you think you are!” Would I scramble to list my credentials, putting to rest any insinuations that I was somehow unqualified? And would bragging add weight to my credibility? Probably not. In fact, it could backfire.

John the Baptist was a priest from the line of Aaron. Strong credentials! Yet, when the priests and Levites from Jerusalem investigated him ~ the equivalent of an inquisition by the Vatican ~ he stuns us with his answer. The question was posed. “Who are you?” But the one who did have impressive credentials divested himself of them all for a bigger purpose. He revealed that he was simply a voice to prepare people to see Jesus. John didn’t say, “I am one teaching” or “I am one telling.” He described his delivery as shouting or crying. It’s impossible to cry out publicly without passion, without intensity.

I ask myself if I ever talk about Jesus void of feeling. Do I teach in dry, sterile tones? Or is there a magnetic quality to my words because my heart has long been engaged from personal experience? Would heartfelt describe others’ experience of me? Does my call to others to believe, to trust God, come across as an act that will be lifesaving to them? If my faith in Christ has not been lifesaving to me, I will never speak of it in any other way but casual.

Who am I, Lord? I am a voice you are using, one who speaks with passion, one who hears your mind in the wilderness, and one whose goal it is to make the way for you straighter today than it was yesterday. Amen

This was John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders sent priests and Temple assistants from Jerusalem to ask John, “Who are you?” He came right out and said, “I am not the Messiah.”  John 1:19-20 NLT

After hearing about the crowds following John and the great numbers that were being baptized, the priests and temple officials came to check him out.  They understood from all the reports that he was a person of influence and they needed to know who he was.  Several questions would be on their tongue.  ‘Are you Elijah?  Are you one of the prophets?’  But before asking those, they started with the obvious.  ‘Who are you?’   John must have sensed what they were really asking so he set all rumors straight by cutting to the chase.  “I am not the Messiah.”  

How would it feel to grow up knowing that your parents, Elizabeth and Zachariah, were blessed by God in their old age to bear a child, that child was you, and your life had an incredible purpose shared by no one else ~ to prepare the way for the Messiah.  How would you not feel special?  How would you not want to tell others of your destiny, to have them share the wonder of it all? “I’m John, the one who was miraculously born to prepare the way for our Messiah.”  Would that have been arrogant?  Perhaps it’s the battle Joseph faced as a teenager when he wanted to share his dreams and the wonder of his father’s love with his brothers. 

The divine anointing on John’s life was evident through his following.  But lest others think that he was the chosen one they had been waiting for, he would not delay setting the record straight.  He would tell them who he was not….rather than who he was.  He would not become the object of their fascination, or worse, their worship.  Soon, the Messiah would appear and John could blend into the background with all the others to worship the only One worthy of worship.  

Notoriety can be an opiate.  The humility to defer to One greater grates against our human need to be the center of attention.  John called himself ‘a voice’.  That’s all.  When it comes down to it, each of us are equipped to be a nameless part of Christ’s body until His appearing.  Who are we?  We are shepherds, teachers, helpers and equippers, people of hospitality, comforters and discerners of spirits.  We are created lives destined to use our anointed gifts to light up the face of Jesus. We are lights, a city on a hill.  Our light can often be dazzling but not because of anything we’ve done. We are broken “jars of clay” in God’s hands. We are illuminated by the  light  of His glory and His face shines brilliantly through the cracks and flaws of imperfection.  John never lost sight of His own sinfulness and Jesus’ perfection. 

I need not be tall in other’s eyes.  I am significant to You so help that register deeply where my insecurities fester.  Amen