Jesus will change you

We say the following. I’m going to get fit, avoid stress, make better choices, or improve my relationships with my family. I’m going to knock off that bad habit.

I am going to change.

And then. Yeah. No change.

Sometimes, maybe change comes outside of us.

Jesus changes water to wine in John 2:1-12. It’s the first miracle Jesus performs in this gospel. This happens at a wedding reception. The wine served runs out. At his mother’s prompting, Jesus asks the servants to fill six jars with water which suddenly changes to the finest wine.

The miracle is the water changes to wine. The miracle can also be personal. We will change when we are near Jesus.

John 2:1-12 doesn’t share how anyone at this wedding reception changes. The text also doesn’t mention how many guests are in attendance. The weeklong wedding party is likely full scale as Jewish tradition reveals not just a twosome joining as one, two families also join as one.

Scripture reveals Jesus and his disciples are present to this party. Jesus’ mother, the master of ceremonies and servants are also mentioned.

Hosting is key to this culture. Being a guest is equally important. That the wine has run out—or will soon run out—is a serious guffaw.

The guests may never know (at least in the moment) that what Jesus di because it is not done publicly or ceremoniously. But Jesus’ mother knows of this miracle. The servants do, too, because Jesus instructs those working to fill six cisterns used for ceremonial washing with water that changes to wine.

Scripture quickly moves on from this event. But Mary saw something. The servants did, too. They experienced a miracle, a change. As a result of this, they must have changed, too.

The greater miracle here (if miracles can be categorized) is not the water changing to wine. Instead, it’s how a change happens to those who first knew the wine was water. They changed because of not WHAT they experienced but WHO they experienced. 

The miracle doesn’t stop there. We change when we, like Mary and the servants, are in the proximity with Jesus.

Some may disagree with the word miracle when it comes to how we change as a result of Jesus’ proximity to us. After all, an argument can go, I went to a church. Sat there. Closed my eyes. Opened my eyes. Nothing happened.

There’s also this. At my front door, at a community event or in a local parking lot some far less than wonderful but overly zealous religious person tried to cram Jesus, Jesus, Jesus down my throat and, well, nothing miraculous came from that mild disaster.

Consider the word proximity. Reflect on the word relationship. Think of love.

Anyone who has been in love (that is the good, deep, “wow” love) knows love will change you. Love draws something out of you.

Speaking about love, 1 Corinthians 13 almost describes love as a third person. Certainly, love has its own presence says the Apostle Paul, the author of 1 Corinthians. This love guides and directs. This love even protects.

The love Jesus has for you (which is a love you can choose to experience daily), will do something gentle, wild and amazing to you. This love will change you. The change may be gradual or almost undetectable at first. It may be so seemingly minor—perhaps something so small as it happens for just a moment each day.

But give it time. Give it space. Give it room and time and freedom and soon you’ll be giving it energy and focus.

Close your eyes. Open your eyes. Something happens. Jesus’ love changes you.