Perhaps Jesus is posing this question for us today: “When is it time to bring out the good wine?” You can answer that question in any number of ways, but for me, it helps to put it in context. Since I’m in a band, I think of it in terms of songs: “When is it time to bring out the best songs?” Now, follow me on this for a moment, because making a song list or a set list is one of the most challenging things for musicians to do. A set list can make or break a band’s performance.

I’ve been in a host of bands in my life, and in each of those bands we had an unspoken ritual. Whenever we had a show, we would get together, usually with only a few minutes to spare before we were supposed to start playing, and we would go over a set list. This usually involved writing out all of our songs that we could pull off live, and then choosing from those songs which ones we would play and in what order. This is crucial, because the order of the songs determines the mood of the crowd, kind of like making a good mix tape. But the difference between a good mix tape and a band’s set list is that in a band’s live performance, time usually runs out before every song is played. When the show is reaching its peak, that’s usually when the sound guy or the club owner holds up two fingers indicating that you can only play two more songs, and then your show is over. Your time is up, and you can’t go back and change your choices.

Now, I can’t complete this analogy using my own band as the example, because our own guitarist doesn’t know the names to half of our songs, which leads me to assume that none of you do either. So, I’ll pose it to you like this: Imagine the sound guy holding up two fingers to the Rolling Stones during one of their shows, and Mick saying to Keith, “Eh, Keith, are we going to play Beast of Burden or Jumpin’ Jack Flash?” Or it would be like the sound guy holding his two fingers up to U2, and Bono having to ask Edge, “Hey, Edge, do we play I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For or Where the Streets Have No Name?”

Now, with the exception of KISS having to choose between Rock n’ Roll All Nite and Rock n’ Roll All Nite, you can see how crucial a decision this is to make: “When is it time to bring out the best songs?”

It’s really no different for the Church. We’re given only a certain amount of time with this gift—this church—and with the time given to us, we’re asked a very crucial question: “When is it time to bring out the good wine?” What makes that question even more potent for us in the church is that Christ is asking the question: “Dear friends, when do you think it’s time to bring out the good wine?”

Well, at Friends Church, we know exactly when it’s time to literally bring out the good wine. We bring it out to celebrate occasions like hearing an incredible performance of a Christmas Cantata by our choir. We did that just last month. But Christ is not asking us about wine that we pour out of a bottle. Christ is asking us about wine that we pour out of our selves—wine that we pour out of our very lives.

To put it in a way that we can all understand, when Christ asks us, “When is it time to bring out the good wine?” the question for us is, “When do you think it’s time to bring out your best? When is it time to bring out the best that you’ve got? When is it time for the Church to share the best that it’s got with the world?” Ecclesiastes tells us that there is a time for everything under heaven, so surely there is an appropriate time for us to bring out our best.

Today we welcome 5 new members into the life of our church: Vanessa, Leah, Robin, Cain and Lenni. They are coming forward to share our vision of extravagant welcome to all, and to join our mission of seeking a deeper spirituality, and transforming God’s world, one act of love at a time. Shouldn’t we bring out the good wine on a day like today? Shouldn’t this church bring out the best that it’s got on a day like this?

I hope we can take it a step further. Let’s go beyond how we look at the excitement of this day. Think of us receiving our new members as if we are receiving Christ. That’s the way it should always be really. Every time we welcome someone into the Church, we should extend that welcome like we would to Christ. Every time we receive new members we sing that hymn in the back of our hymnals, No Longer Strangers. But do you know why we’re no longer strangers? It’s not because we’ve joined a club, or because we have a nametag or even because we have gotten to know each other and now we’re friends. We’re no longer strangers because we have received one another like we receive Christ.

That changes everything doesn’t it? Well, that’s how it is with Jesus. Jesus Christ, God’s gift to the whole world, changes everything, so when God’s children look to one another as if they were looking at Christ, that changes how we treat each other. The trouble is that if we look at receiving new members like we’re receiving Christ, we might not think we’re up to the task; that we’re not good enough or pure enough. Receiving Christ is only for the good and pure Christian, right?

This reminds me of why I love that Christmas song The Little Drummer Boy so much. I’ve always loved the tune, but the message is what’s kept the song alive in my soul throughout the years. The boy in the song is going to see the infant Jesus, and he knows the baby he is going to see is the King of kings, the Lord of lords, the Son of the Most High God, and that scares the little drummer boy into believing that he has nothing adequate, nothing appropriate, nothing worthy to give to the Christ child to welcome him into the world. So, what does he do? He plays his drum. It may not be what the world thinks is most appropriate, but it’s his best.

It’s a good message, but does it really speak to us? We’re not little children on our way to visit the baby Jesus, we’re people who tend to think that there is nothing new we can present to God. It reminds me of the old TV show Roseanne about a family that is always down on their luck. And in one episode of the show, the youngest child of the family, DJ races into the kitchen and says to his dad, “Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! I’ve been invited to my friend’s birthday party.” And his dad says, “Good for you son. Now, go wrap up one of your toys for a present.”

We’re like the little drummer boy or DJ: we’re on our way to a birthday party that celebrates the birth of a child named Jesus, but all we have to offer is something like a measly drum or an old toy wrapped in newspaper. Do you ever come to church and feel like you don’t have a right to be here? Do you ever sit in worship and think that you’re not good enough to open your mouth and sing out a hymn? Do you ever think that you’re not worthy of receiving the bread and cup of Communion? That is a heavy burden to carry.

We may be carrying our own set of burdens right now. The guilt of knowing we’ve done someone wrong, or the distaste of knowing someone has damaged our innocence in some tragic way. Our burden might be an emotion of anger that has become a virus in our soul, and now we’ve become bitter over things we should have done, time we should have back, people we’ve lost touch with, pathways we should have taken. Or our burden might be a lack of forgiveness, our unwillingness to forgive someone who probably doesn’t even know that they messed us over, or the impossibility, as we see it, to forgive ourselves.

God knows about these stones that we carry in our shoes. God knows about the thorns the world shoves in our side. And Jesus sees these things that we call burdens, and Jesus says, “Come to me. Don’t worry about those invisible things you call burdens. I don’t care if all you have is a measly drum or an eyesore of a toy or five gold rings, just come to me. Come to me and I will give you a new burden: the burden of change, the burden of renewal, the burden of freedom.”

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” –Matthew 11:28-30

Jesus changed water into wine. That was his first miracle. He didn’t have to do it. He even told Mary, his mother, “It’s not time for me yet.” But he changed that water to wine anyway. And this is how simple Christ’s miracle was: he asked people to bring him their water, he changed it to wine—good wine, and then he instructed those people to take that wine to the master of the party. And the master says, “Usually people only use cheap wine when the party has hit its peak and the fun’s almost over, but you’ve brought out the good wine, and bless you for it! Cheers!”

Are you beginning to see yourself in this story? We’re at the wedding, and we bring whatever we’ve got to Jesus. But here’s the Good News: whatever we bring to Christ—our best, our worst, whatever we bring—it’s just water. Our greatest accolades and our most miserable failures; we bring them to Christ. Our proudest achievements and our heaviest burdens; we give them to Christ, and he changes that water into good wine. And then Jesus says, you are free to go to the Master; so with this good wine in our hands and Christ’s Spirit at our back, we approach the throne of God, and our Lord receives what we have to offer and says to us, “My child, this is good wine. Bless you for it. Cheers.”

The story of Jesus changing the water to wine takes place at a wedding. I love a good wedding. Wouldn’t it be fun to think of coming to this place on Sunday mornings as if we’re always coming to a wedding? It might help to get that bell tower rebuilt to enhance the metaphor.

I’ve done a lot of weddings, and you know what my favorite part of a wedding is? It’s the moment when the bride is coming down the aisle and everyone looks at her, but I look at the one waiting for her at the end of the aisle standing to my immediate left. I recently did a wedding for a young couple; A&M graduates both of them. We did premarital counseling sessions together, planned the ceremony together, and I really got to know the couple during this process. Both of them were determined, hardworking, kind, and she was sweet as could be, but he was a pretty tough guy. He had been in the corps, and now he was about to be commissioned to serve in the Navy out of Virginia. At times it was like pulling teeth to get this kid to open up during their counseling sessions. He was a good man with a kind heard, but his demeanor, for the most part, was hard as nails. But on their wedding day, when his bride stood at the back of the room and the whole place stood up and the music kicked in, and all eyes were on the girl in the white dress that shined like the hopes she had in her heart; I looked at the young ensign at my immediate left, the one waiting at the end of the aisle. In this moment, his jaw twitched, his lips quivered, his legs shook, his feet squirmed, and his life changed. Moments like those are when our heaviest burdens, our greatest hopes and our deepest joys intersect.

This is our wedding, friends. Every Sunday, here in this place; this is our wedding. This is the time and place where our heaviest burdens and our greatest hopes and our deepest joys intersect. When you walked into the sanctuary this morning, you walked into a wedding, so what are you going to give? What’s your wedding gift?

“Aw, preacher, at the end of this message, is it just another stewardship sermon?” You’d better believe it, because just like every Sunday is a wedding in this house of God, every worship service is a time for stewardship. I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about you. Everyday give yourself to Christ, and everyday your life will be made into an offering to God and a blessing to the whole world. “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” Celebrate all that you are and all that you can become by giving yourself to Christ. We give our best to our families. We give our best to our jobs. We give our best to school. We give our best to our friends. Shouldn’t we give our best to God? If we don’t, these Sunday morning weddings won’t be very fun.

So, when is it time to bring out the good wine? For the sake of all who would come, for the vision and mission of this church, and by the blessings of Christ and the grace of God, let it be today. It’s time to bring out the good wine. Amen.