The Finest Wine
This sermon draws parallels between the meticulous work of a vintner and the transformative grace revealed by Jesus at the wedding in Cana. Through the imagery of vines, soil, and the crafting of fine wine, it invites us to reflect on God’s abundant grace that turns emptiness into fullness and transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary. As recipients of this grace, we are called to celebrate it, embody it, and participate in God’s ongoing work of transformation in the world.
The Glimpses of Grace podcast is a ministry of Grace Episcopal Church in Gainesville, Georgia. We are passionate about supporting the spiritual growth of souls, and we hope these sermons and conversations meet you where you are and enrich your soul as we all continue to make meaning in the world today.
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Transcript
In the warm light of dawn, the vintner stands on the crest of his vineyard,
surveying the hills that stretch like a sea of green and gold.
The land, worked and shaped by his hands over many seasons,
carries the weight of a tradition passed down by generations before him.
The air is crisp, filled with the earthy scent of wet soil and earth,
as the first rays of sunlight illuminate the hills.
The vintner’s day begins in the soil,
kneeling at the base of a vine just starting to sprout.
His hands, worn by years of labor, carefully inspect the roots,
ensuring the plants are healthy, hearty.
He runs his fingers through the rich soil,
feeling the delicate balance between moisture and dryness,
knowing that the smallest change could alter the fate of the harvest.
Each vine is unique. Each vine has its own story.
The vintner remembers planting them as tiny shoots, years ago.
They are now robust.
He walks the rows, examining their growth with a discerning eye.
The vines are carefully pruned,
ensuring that only the most promising tendrils are allowed to grow.
Every cut is purposeful—
a decision that will shape the flavor profile of the wine in years to come.
When the time arrives for harvest,
the air is thick with the scent of ripening grapes.
The vintner, along with his family and a small team of trusted workers,
walks the vineyard in the early morning hours, baskets in hand.
They are methodical, choosing each cluster with care.
The grapes glisten with dew, each one waiting to be transformed.
Once the grapes are gathered, they are brought to the winery.
The vintner oversees the crushing, gentle pressing, and releasing of juice.
The sound of the crushing is followed by the steady rhythm
of the fermentation tanks being filled. The must bubbles and ferments.
He watches over it with patience, checking the temperature, and monitoring
the fermentation process, knowing it will take days, even weeks.
In the coolness of the cellar,
the wine will take shape over the coming months.
The vintner racks the wine, carefully moving it from one barrel to another,
allowing the flavors to settle, to meld, and to mature.
He knows that this is the quiet part of the process—
slow, unseen work that takes time.
The barrels add their own character to the wine,
imparting hints of spice, toast, and vanilla.
As the months pass, the wine matures, growing more complex, more refined.
When the moment finally comes to taste,
the vintner pours a small amount into a glass.
He holds the glass up to the light, studying the color—
deep amber, rich ruby, pale gold—
each hue telling a story of its growth.
He deeply inhales, savoring the aromas of ripe fruit and fresh earth.
The first sip is always a revelation.
The taste reveals balances of sweetness and acidity, structure and softness.
The vintner experiences the layers of flavor.
Each layer is an echo of the vineyard, the soil, and the care.
In a moment of pride, the vintner remembers the dedication,
patience, and love that has borne fruit.
At a wedding in Cana, Jesus performs his first (what John calls) sign—
a sign that points to who he is, a sign that reveals God.
Like the work of the vintner, this moment at the wedding is steeped in grace—
grace that is both generative and transformative.
At a wedding in Cana,
we see a moment when Jesus’ divinity and humanity intertwine,
where the grace of God reveals itself in ways both tangible and profound.
Jesus’ mother makes note that there is a problem: the wine runs out.
In a culture where hospitality and celebration rely on shared meals and drink,
this is no small matter.
The lack of wine threatens to dampen the joy of the occasion,
disgracing the hosts.
Jesus’ mother encourages Jesus to step in.
He asks the servants to fill six stone jars with water,
and when they draw from them,
the water has been transformed into wine.
Not just any wine, but the finest wine.
Consider the vintner’s first taste of the wine:
a taste that tells a story of transformation.
This is what grace tastes like—unexpected, abundant, overflowing.
It is the grace that God brings into our lives—
sometimes when we least expect it, but always at the perfect moment.
Grace doesn’t just meet our needs; it goes beyond them.
The transformation from water to wine is not just a change of substance;
there is a change in quality.
The wine no longer resembles the simplicity of the water it once was.
It is now rich, complex, flavorful.
At a wedding in Cana, this sign reveals Jesus’ divinity.
By turning water into wine,
he demonstrates the power to transform the
most basic elements of creation.
At a wedding in Cana, this sign is a revelation of Jesus’ humanity.
Responding to his mother and engaging with the world around him,
Jesus meets a need, turning emptiness into abundance, despair into hope.
This is what grace looks like—something ordinary becoming extraordinary.
Grace is the vineyard that nurtures us, the wine that matures us,
the vintner tenderly and patiently working on us.
As the vintner inspects the vineyard, the earthy scent of the soil and
the fragrance of ripening fruit
signal the richness of a harvest full of promise.
The smell in the air signals life, growth, anticipation.
At a wedding in Cana, Jesus adds complexity to the already present
scent of anticipation, joy, and life being celebrated,
with the scent of transformation, life abundant, and blessings overflowing.
The smell of wine fills the air and tells the story of God’s abundance.
This is what grace smells like—a celebration of what is and what is to come.
When the vintner presses the grapes and tends to the wine,
he knows the work is slow and deliberate.
Each action is purposeful, tactile, and physical.
Grace is something we feel in our lives—not just intellectually,
but bodily and spiritually.
At a wedding in Cana, as wine was drawn,
the guests were undoubtedly overjoyed.
When we experience God’s grace, it affects us deeply—
it touches our emotions, our spirits; there’s a shift in the atmosphere.
This is what grace feels like—it is close, intimate, and personal.
When have you experienced a moment of transformation,
when God’s grace turned emptiness into abundance in your life?
What does it mean for us to embody this abundant grace in our lives?
How can we, like the servants at Cana,
participate in God’s work of ongoing transformation?
At a wedding in Cana, we encounter a grace that is deep, abundant,
and transforming.
It is the grace that tastes like the finest wine, looks like a divine transformation,
smells like a harvest in full bloom, and feels like the presence of God
in the midst of our celebrations and our struggles.
This is the grace we are invited to receive, to celebrate, and to share.
It is the finest wine, the richest harvest, the deepest joy. Thanks be to God.