Jesus took water and he turned it into wine.
And he wants to take our water-like lives and turn them into wine-like lives.
I want to spend a few minutes contemplating, just a little more, what this means.
Clearly, it’s important to be clear about what this all means. It’s not much of an exageration call the prosperity gospel evil. To suggest that God is only with us when our lives are enjoyable goes against too many scriptural principles to mention.
Especially by siezing on the metaphor that Jesus wants to turn our lives to wine, I realize I run the risk of implying that Jesus promises us riches and creature comforts. I don’t believe that for one second.
I spent much of today trying to wrap my brain around this. I considered all these rational criteria for understanding the distinction between immature selfishness and the sort-of wine that Jesus actually wants of our lives.
What occured to me (this is not an unusual realization for me) is that I’m overthinking it all. Because we know. We just know.
There are times that the very deepest parts of us says “This is what we were made for.”
There are times we enjoy, perhaps even intensely. We might want these times to continue. There is nothing inherently wrong with these feelings. But they are not the same as that other feeling: Feeling free, feeling open. It’s as if time flips on it’s side and spreads outward… a sort-of eternity.
For me, this feeling often revolves around community, nature, and simple things done well. And when these times begin to fade, there is this disapointment. Because somewhere, deep inside, I know. I know that things are supposed to be a certain way. And I had this little glimpse, this little tease, this little taste. Some day, I’ll get to eat that whole meal… and that’s a pretty awesome thing.