Rethinking a Messiah’s Miracle

I’m struck how this miracle—Jesus’ first—and most of his good works, were not performed in churches or synagogues, but among the riffraff and ragamuffins; in homes, at parties, and among common folk outdoors. In fact, most people are surprised to hear that Jesus didn’t found a new religion or an institutional church,[1] nor expect his followers to set up a Christian version of the synagogue. His “church” he spoke of was known in Greek as ekklesia, which merely means a gathering of people under a common cause. The same word is used for a “mob” in the book of Acts.[2] It is not a human institution with professional salaried clergy, a clergy-laity distinction, meetings in buildings, church budgets, hierarchal leadership, and legalistic requirements, such as tithing; most of these were elements the later Roman church adopted and borrowed from pagan culture.[3] This doesn’t mean modern churches are bad (although they can become so and even oppressive when an environment of legalism is allowed to breed), just that they’re optional.[4]

Why dwell on an alternate scenario of the Master’s first miracle? It just might help us see past the religious lens most of us peer through when we imagine Jesus. He is just as likely to create fine microbrews as wine at a party (perhaps more so since most beer is significantly lower in alcohol content than wine). He was known to hang out with gluttons and whores,[5] approved of august celebrations, reminded us he didn’t come to destroy lives,[6] always remembered the poor, and read from a version of the Bible that celebrates human sexuality, rather graphically.

WWJB? We keep coming back to what he would not brew to answer that question. He would make fine wine, craft choice beer, nurture unselfish love, but never, I contend, brew a spirit of religion that cultivates fear, spiritual manipulation, and a legalistic approach to life.

[1] Gary Wills, What Jesus Meant, page 78.

[2] Wills, op. cit. page 78.

[3] Frank Viola and George Barna, Pagan Christianity: Exploring the Roots of Our Church Practices, page xix.

[4] A Pew poll the week of August 20, 2010 found 18 percent of Americans think President Barak Obama is a Muslim, only one third correctly identify him as a Christian, and 43 percent have no idea what his religion is. The fact that Obama and his family haven’t joined a Christian church as of the time of the poll may influence these confused perspectives and highlights how Americans often put more stock in superficial religiosity than genuine Christian charity.

[5] Matthew 11:19 and 21:31

[6] Luke 9:56

Check out Part 1 and Part 2 of this series.

Rethinking a Messiah’s Miracle

Might I suggest Jesus would favor brewing up a batch of European varieties such as the Floreffe Special Reserve, a rich dark beer seasoned with anise spice and orange peel. At eight percent alcohol content, this Belgium Ale is a joy to drain and represents a choice brew that would easily match the words of the party master when he says, “You saved the best for last.” Perhaps we should do the same. No, we can’t always do what Jesus did, but at times we can emulate his example. We can bless others by “saving the best gifts for last” and love our neighbors to the end with increasing kindness, beyond their expectations.

I wonder if Jesus would give us a taste of his sense of humor. If not a Belgium beer, I imagine him turning water from kegs into one of my favorite Pacific Northwest microbrews. Perhaps a Silver City (near Seattle, WA) Scotch Ale, aged in American Oak with a tinge of whiskey. He would anticipate the lovemaking of the bride and groom that would occur later that night and honor them and their guests with this award-winning choice appropriately named, Fat Woody. After tasting it, the banquet master would laugh at the bridegroom (remember, in the story, he doesn’t realize the wine comes from Jesus and not the groom), when he recognizes the exceptional beer and remembers its name.

“Scandalous to even think of such a thing,” an uptight believer might say. Yet, dwell on this: If Jesus shared with the crowds a scripture appropriate for a wedding, he wouldn’t be constrained by many of the mistranslations we have in our modern Bibles.1 He may remember the Song of Songs when Solomon writes “Your love is more delightful than wine,”2 referring to a beautiful maiden doling over her man. Knowing the scriptures like the back of his hand, he might recall the man and woman describing each other’s nude bodies. You read that right: Nude. First, there is the reference to the woman’s breasts being like clusters of fruit. Then, even though our modern translations use the words “navel” or “body” in a couple passages, the correct Hebrew words in the manuscripts from which we derive ours were euphemisms for female and male genitalia.3 Gotta be naked to notice those. At times our modern Bibles are incorrect and Song of Songs is a tad pornographic—in good taste.

What are some more possibilities? Being concerned with getting to the original truth, perhaps he would create something from the oldest brewery in the world—the origin of beer—the Bavarian Wiehenstephan. Its malty, Dark Wheat Beer, would be worthy of a King. Or maybe an American version of a great German beer, like the Silver City Oktoberfest, an amber lager with a rich malty sweetness. Then there’s the infamous Portland, Oregon Deschutes Brewery. One of their reserve brews like the Imperial Stout, called The Abyss (one beer writer calls it precious stuff), would fit the bill. With delightful hints of molasses, licorice, and chocolate flavors, this 11 percenter would be a fine choice for Jesus to craft, although I trust the banquet master would insist it be served in smaller glasses to encourage moderation.

1. Michael Camp, Beware of Bible Abuse
2. Song of Songs 1:2
3. See Lawrence, Raymond, Sexual Liberation: The Scandal of Christendom, page 23, referring to Song of Songs 5:14 and 7:2.

Check out Part 1 of this series.

Rethinking a Messiah’s Miracle

WWJB? It’s a legitimate question. Jesus drank with the best of them.1 He made choice wine from water at a wedding in Cana—and lots of it. About 150 gallons. In case you’re wondering, that’s about 800 bottles. And it was good stuff.

“You saved the best for last,” said the master of the banquet to the bridegroom.2 All proof that Jesus approved of earthly celebrations and drinking, despite the fact that some fundamentalists make the ludicrous claim that his wine wasn’t fermented. It was. The Greek word used is oinos, which means fermented drink derived from grapes. In fact, in the Torah, God told the Israelites to use a portion of their tithe to buy food, wine, and strong drink—whatever their appetites craved—for an annual party.3 Like the Cana wedding, it was a time of rejoicing, which the Psalmist echoed when he said “He makes wine that gladdens the heart of man [and woman].”4 The scriptures tell us the abundance of wine is a divine blessing.5

Don’t get nervous, teetotalers. God does not approve of alcohol abuse. Paul told his hearers “don’t get drunk with wine”6 in the Greek continuous tense; meaning don’t be in the habit of overindulging.7 The implication is, it’s fine to tie one on with restraint once in a while, as the Israelites were encouraged to do once a year; just beware of the dangers of drunkenness, in other words, alcoholism. It will ruin your life. Today, unlike biblical times, it is complicated by the deadly combination of drinking and driving.

But what of societies where moderate imbibing is practiced responsibly? If Jesus was invited to a wedding in Belgium or Germany or the home of an American microbrewer, and his mother Mary was worried because they ran out of beer, what would he brew? You can bet your bottom dollar it wouldn’t be Bud Lite.

As a microbrew enthusiast I’d like to offer a few suggestions. Just as the water-into-wine miracle teaches us about God’s lavish provision, his concern over a host’s embarrassment about a poorly planned wedding party, and the importance of bounteous celebrations of life and love, our delving into a WWJB scenario will uncover eye-opening revelations. Ones you can test out in real life. And, if you’re inclined, at the local pub.

We already began with what he wouldn’t brew. Let’s explore that further. As much as I love the Canadian Ale, La Fin du Monde, a robust, flavorful triple-fermentation with a nine percent wallop, I doubt Jesus would brew it. Why? The English translation of this French-named beer is “The End of the World.” My contention is Jesus doesn’t want to send us that message. Some Evangelical Christians delight in saying his return is imminent along with seven years of harrowing tribulation with nothing to look forward to but Judgment Day. They then use this claim to convince you to “accept Jesus” so you’re spared the horror. As I have written elsewhere,8 this interpretation of New Testament eschatology is misguided and naïve. Jesus spoke of the end of the age, meaning the era of Jewish Temple worship (which ended with the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD), not the end of the world. Lavish provision and celebrations of life are still in play. We may need to limit them for ourselves at times, but not due to a looming apocalyptic global catastrophe, but rather so we can show concern for the poor and empower them to join the party. Spiritual manipulation through fear is not what Jesus is about, which also highlights how his teaching on hell is misinterpreted.9

1. Matthew 11:19
2. John 2:1-10
3. Deuteronomy 14:26
4. Psalm 104:14-15
5. Genesis 27:28
6. Ephesians 5:18
7. Darwin Chandler, The Royal Law of Liberty, pages 252-253
8. Michael Camp, Last Days Delusions
9. Michael Camp, Embrace Universal Life

To be continued…