There was a film*, years back, that introduced us to the language of illusionists, or, more specifically, the language of illusions. Whether or not these terms are actually in regular use among magicians, I don’t know. But they make sense to me. This is how it goes:
A really good illusion comprises three parts, or three acts. “First comes The Pledge: The magician shows you something relatively ordinary, like a dove. Second is The Turn: The magician takes the dove and makes it do something extraordinary, like disappear. Finally, there’s The Prestige: the magician tops that disappearance and makes the dove reappear.”**
Using the lens of this language of illusions we can examine Jesus’ miraculous transformation of water into wine, and see if we can learn anything helpful from applying the language of magic to this miracle. Jesus and his disciples are at a wedding, and Jesus’ mother is there too. Word reaches Mary that the hosts have run out of wine, and Mary turns to Jesus and tells him, “They have no wine.” Jesus acts annoyed. Clever. He seems entirely disinterested, and protests that the situation has nothing to do with him. It’s almost as if he is showing us he has nothing up his sleeve.
Now comes the Pledge. St. John tells is that there just happened to be standing there six stone water jars… each holding twenty or thirty gallons.” Just ordinary jars, nothing unusual about them at all. Have a look in them yourselves. Check the bottoms of the jars. Make sure there are no holes or hoses, or underground connections. In short order, Jesus says “fill the jars with water.” And St. John tells us that “they filled them up to the brim.” Just ordinary water, have a look at it yourself, see that it is perfectly clean and clear.
Next comes the Turn. Jesus says to them, “‘Draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.’ So they took it.” And when the steward tastes what they have brought him, they all see that the water has become wine. Gasp! Amazement! Applause! You would think that this would be a sufficiently impressive miracle, but no, there’s more.
Next comes the Prestige: “the steward called the bridegroom and said to him, ‘Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now!’” Tah-dah! Jesus takes a small bow, with utmost humility, as all are amazed that he turned water into wine, the best wine of the evening.
And the whole thing followed the formula of a really good illusion. The Pledge: ordinary jars, ordinary water. The Turn: the water is turned to wine. The Prestige: the wine is the best wine in the house! Abracadabra! If what the world needed was an illusionist who could amuse and amaze us, this reading of the miracle of water-turned-to-wine, would be a great start to Chapter 2 of John’s Gospel. But I am pretty sure that, actually, what the world needs is not a magician who can turn water into wine. No, what the world needs is a savior. Now, this statement is no longer one that wins broad agreement, acceptance, or approval. But it happens to be the attitude and conviction of the church: the world, and each of us, needs a savior.
It is tempting to look back at history from our contemporary perspective, and see how in modernity we have gradually outgrown foolish, old-fashioned, and, frankly, ignorant reliance on un-provable, unreliable belief systems, like magic and religion. Like the belief that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and the Savior of the world.
It would, of course be laughable, in our day and age, to predicate such belief on what amounts to a magic trick - turning water into wine - or any other miraculous illusions performed by a wonder-worker long ago, who, after all, died a humiliating death at the hands of the authorities. Especially if, when you look at the very first miracle of Jesus, you can see how easily it falls into the pattern of a magic trick; an illusion performed by a gifted illusionist: meant to impress and inspire, but a trick all the same, with the Pledge, the Turn, and finally the Prestige - Wow! This wine is really good!
But I am not entirely sure that that reading of history is correct; that it accurately identifies what has changed, in modern thought, from the way people of old thought. I am not entirely sure that what has changed is that we are no longer so easily taken in by magic, by scams. And I am definitely not willing to concede that religion is little more than belief in magical thinking, and that it’s the greatest scam of all. Though I am sure there are many people out there in the world who do see things this way. It seems possible to me, however, that what has really changed is this: that many people no longer believe that they are need, that we are in need, that the world is in need of a savior. Because so many of us believe that we can save ourselves from whatever threatens, worries, or troubles us.
Having accomplished so much in the world: having split the atom, having traveled to outer space, having cured incurable diseases, having put people back together when they have been horribly broken, having built everything we dream of building, including towers up to heaven, is it any wonder that people no longer look to heaven for a savior? What biblical illusion could provide any meaningful counterpoint to these points of modern history, modern fact? In the face of modern human achievement, the Christian narrative can seem quaint at best, and maybe a little pathetic. We don’t need to turn to an ancient, wonder-worker for a savior who knows nothing of our modern lives, and who could not have dreamed of our modern ability, and cannot match our modern achievements; we take matters into our own hands. We can save ourselves, can’t we? And the quaintness of the magical formula of the miracle of turning water-into-wine just goes to show how naive and pathetic it is to believe in that other stuff, doesn’t it?
But let me apply the language of illusions to the miracle of the water-turned-to-wine and see if maybe there is another way to see things. Maybe modern attitudes that are as easily dismissive of religion as they are of magic do not actually represent a superior outlook, informed by science and technology. Rather, maybe such dismissive attitudes are a failure to see the Prestige of Jesus’ miracle for what it is.
If we look at the miracle of Jesus turning water-into-wine with a more insightful vision, we might see that the Prestige of this miracle is not that the water-turned-to-wine is the better wine. No, the Prestige is something altogether different. For it’s true that Jesus was just a guest at a wedding. He had shown no great power yet, had taught no important lessons, and hadn’t yet healed anyone, or made anything better. (Although there had been a cool trick with a dove down by the river.) When presented with an everyday problem (they have run out of wine), Jesus had no particular expertise to bring to the party - neither in viticulture or oenology, not even in logistics or purchasing. Nothing was expected of him. The only reason that the matter came to his attention was because his mother raised it. It’s as if she knew instinctively that he could do something that even he did not know he was able to do. She knew it even before he knew it - and she was right! No one had any reason to suspect that Jesus was the one who could fix the problem - but he was, he could, and he did. That’s the Prestige.
For so many people in the world today, Jesus is a joke, a farce, and old-fashioned superstition. And many, I’m sure, are not even convinced that Jesus actually existed, despite a fairly extensive historical record that he did. Almost nothing is expected of Jesus in the world today. And by and large, people aren’t looking for a savior.
Here we are at Cana. But the illusion that’s repeated over and over isn’t that water is turned to wine. No, the illusion is the idea that we don’t need a savior, that we can save ourselves.
Yes, we take ordinary things and we transform them: sometimes for better, often for worse. But what’s the Prestige? We are still in strife and at enmity with one another. We are still unhappy. We are still at war. We are still unable to find justice. We are still addicted to buying and selling, among other things. And we are still destroying the gift of creation that was given to us by the hand and heart of the creator.
Here we are at Cana. It has become apparent that the wine has run out. You might say the party’s over. Perhaps there’s nothing to do but call it quits. But there is One at the wedding banquet who can change all that. There is One who can bring joy into our midst again. For a moment, it looks as though he is doing nothing but a party trick - and it’s so outlandish that it’s a pretty good sign that this party is, indeed, over. OK, so he turned water into wine. Soon we will all go back to our homes, and nurse our hangovers, and remember the sorry state of the world we live in. But here’s the Prestige: Jesus’ power is not in turning water into wine. It’s bringing grace, hope, and love to the party when joy has run out.
Here we are at Cana. And there is One here who can end our strife and resolve our enmity, who can make us happy, who can end our wars, who can establish justice, who can assuage our addictions. There is One here who can even restore the gift of creation that we have gotten so good at destroying. There is One here who can even forgive us our sins and make us whole. He is easily dismissed. Many people don’t even think he could even pull off the illusion of turning water into wine, let alone changing the world, restoring hope and making all our lives better. But that’s the Prestige.
The audience does not think they need a Savior. We think we can save ourselves. But we take a sip from the large stone jars, and we taste grace, hope, and love in world from which grace hope and love have been largely drained. We drink from the large stone jars, and we sense joy again, when we thought joy had long ago abandoned us. We watch Jesus set up the Pledge: here are ordinary jars, ordinary water. And we see the Turn: Wow! the water is turned to wine! And, yes, it’s so much better than whatever we were drinking before! But that’s not the Prestige.
Here’s the Prestige: Jesus can fill up what has become empty; Jesus can restore what was lost; Jesus can replenish what we have run out of; Jesus can bring joy where all that was left had become bitter; Jesus can forgive all that we have ruined with our selfishness and sin; Jesus can bring life where there was nothing left but death.
And this is no illusion: this is the work and ministry of the Son of God, who is right here with us, even when we expect almost nothing from him. Jesus is the One who can restore, refill, replenish us. He is, he can, and he does!
Preached by Fr. Sean Mullen
16 January 2022
Saint Mark’s, Locust Street, Philadelphia
*”The Prestige”, 2006, written by Christopher and Jonathan Nolan, based on the novel by Christopher Priest
**”The Pledge, The Turn, The Prestige” by Tom Zito, altaonline.com, Dec 18, 2018
from “The Prestige”