Unless you've been a hermit all your life, you've probably attended at least one wedding. Sometimes the enjoyment of such an event depends on who you're seated with so it would not be a surprising thing if a bride and groom gave careful thought to their seating arrangements in the hopes of keeping the occasion as wonderful as possible for everyone.
No wedding reception to my knowledge, however, can claim to have superior wine made from water except the wedding banquet in Cana, Galilee in the gospel of John.
Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it. When the steward tasted the wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior one after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now. – John 2: 6 – 10 (NRSV)
Such a rich pericope invites many interpretations but let's take a look at whether the seating arrangements at such a wedding banquet would matter.
The reason for my curiosity: an article by David H. Sick, “The Architriklinos at Cana,” in the Journal of Biblical Literature, 130 (2011): 513 – 526 [http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P3-2543151911.html]. The architriklinos (“αρχιτρίκλιυος”) in John 2:8 and 9 is the steward in our pericope. What tickled my imagination was the last part of Sick's article where he suggests that Jesus not only saved newly weds from social humiliation by remedying the shortage of wine but he also possibly nullified the social order of the day.
Let's backtrack a bit and take a look at what the Jewish Encyclopedia has to say. In describing the different types of banquets a student of the law would be required to attend (wedding feast included), the Jewish Encyclopedia states that “the various rules regarding the invitation and the seating of the guests, the mixing of the wine and the serving of the dishes, to be observed by the master of the banquet, called in Greek 'αρχιτρίκλιυος,' by the cook, and the servant of the house ('shamash'), were no less strictly observed by the Jews than by the Greeks and Romans as may be learned from Ber. Vii.; Tosef., Ber. iv.-vii.; Derek 'Erez Rabba and Zutta.”1
Though the study was made for the gospel of Luke, useful information can be gleaned from Willi Braun's discussion of Mediterranean dining practices in the first century (See Feasting and Social Rhetoric in Luke 14, Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series 85). Braun describes the “cycle of reciprocity”2 which characterized Greco-Roman hospitality. Offers of hospitality had to be carefully considered because there were implied costs and obligations—one had to invite the host back for an equivalent feast in the future. In a highly stratified social set up, the guest list was a crucial factor in deciding to accept or decline an invitation since being with the right sort of people mattered tremendously. The dinner party was not only a social event but a political means to assert one's pride and honor “in patterns of balanced reciprocity,” as well as “an essential forum for furthering ambitions and expanding one's sphere of influence...”3
Braun's study suggests “the values of honour and shame as the controlling and motivating forces in virtually every domain of social interaction” and points to “a social system marked by enforced boundaries between rich and poor, noble and ignoble, the elite and the lowly classes” in the context of the elite Greco-Roman symposia and dinner-party scene.4
Jodi Magness's Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit: Jewish Daily Life in the Time of Jesus is also a very interesting read. Magness examined archaeological and literary evidence to paint a picture of life at the time of Jesus. Evidence of hellenization—specifically Greco-Roman influence on dining customs—includes the imported potteries discovered at Jericho and Jerusalem during the time of Herod, which indicates “the close ties between Herod and his family, on the one hand, and Augustus and members of the imperial family... on the other hand.” These close ties translated to Herod adopting Roman fashions and customs, which in turn were “imitated (on a more limited scale) by the Judean elite.”5 The fragments of imported pottery and “the appearance of Italian pans in the houses of the upper class Jewish inhabitants in Jerusalem” is taken to mean that “Jews were open to Roman culinary influences and prepared to try and taste new food.”6
Is the Greco-Roman influence more pervasive among the elite—similar to the character of Doña Victorina in Jose Rizal's Noli Me Tangere? Magness notes how the absence of a certain type of pottery, in contrast to its pervasive presence in the courts of Herod, might possibly signify resistance of the Jewish people to the Romans (though the alternative explanation of purity laws is not ruled out).
In Galilee, Jewish villagers generally dined while sitting on the ground. Rabbinic literature refers to both the dining seats and couches:
“What is the order for reclining [when several eat together]? When there are two couches (mţwt), the greatest [in importance] among them reclines at the head of the first, the second [in importance] to him reclines below him. (t. Ber. 5:6)”7
In the gospel itself, the beloved disciple is reclining next to Jesus (Jn 13:23).
Social order is also explicitly demonstrated in Luke 14: 8 – 10, which specifically recommends choosing the lowest place in a banquet as a lesson on humility.
It seems that both Roman and Jewish dining customs reflect social strata. “Seating arrangements at a Roman banquet were governed by rules that reflected each diner's rank and status in society.”8 The spacious triclinia of the Hasmonean and Herodian palaces—used for formal dinners, banquets and receptions—indicate that the Jewish ruling class structured itself according to these social norms.
Going back to Sick, he writes: “... both inscriptions from Stratonicea imply that wine is to be distributed by social rank. The inscription of Marcus Aurelisu Errianos states that he gave wine for those of 'each age group, fortune, and the resident aliens in assembly.' Such a social hierarchy for the distribution of wine is a recurrent feature of banquets across the Mediterranean in the first century, the famous wedding feast at Cana included. Both Pliny and Martial complain of dinners where the host served higher quality food and wine to those of higher status.”9
To add to his argument, Sick provides his own translation of Pliny's complaint in a letter to Junius Avitus to demonstrate how the quality of wine acted as a social marker:
“He had also divided the wine into three sorts by small flagons, not for the sake of freedom of choice but to prohibit a right of refusal. There was one kind for myself and the host, another for his lesser friends (for he has friends in rank), and another for his and our freedmen. (Ep. 2.6.2)”10
What are the implications therefore on the story of Jesus turning water into wine? Yes, Jesus provides wine and seemingly averts a social disaster—i.e., the humiliation of the host—since running out of wine at a wedding was considered a serious problem (Jn 2:3) as “one who urged a neighbor to attend his wedding without showing proper hospitality is listed among thieves (t. B. Qam. 7:8).”11
But Jesus also “uses the hierarchy of wine... to invert the social if not religious order. By turning a superabundant quantity of water into wine of heavenly quality and reserving it until the end of the banquet, Jesus undermines the system.”12
In a nutshell, Roman-Greco political and cultural power in Palestine during the time of Jesus may have influenced the gospel of John. Both in hellenist and Judaic culture, ranking is part of the dining customs, though the delineation among the social strata in the Roman-Greco context seems more defined—which is evidenced even in the quality of wine served, i.e., better quality wine for the important guests and inferior quality for the less-important guests.
Taking these possibilities, that there is a highly stratified social structure in place at the Cana wedding and the quality of wine is a mark of such position, it would have been a major upset to those concerned with their place in society to have heavenly wine served to everyone equally, in non-recognition of social status. Superior wine served in abundance for anyone who wishes, for however long the feast will continue, effectively abrogates the existing social structures. Perhaps this can even be extended—would the carefully observed balance of reciprocity present a pressure of obligation to guests to provide a similar banquet even if it might be impossible? Or would the impossibility of providing a similar quality and quantity of wine be another indication of the messianic quality of the banquet, and therefore an indication of the messiah?
John 2: 6 – 10 may not normally lend itself to interpretation from a liberation perspective but taken in a particular context, the water-into-wine miracle could also be read as a critique of oppressive social structures, perhaps of the Roman powers-that-be, or the religious and political Jewish leaders who wished to preserve the status quo. If read as a foreshadowing of the messianic banquet, it could be interpreted as one that does away with worldly social structures that determine a person's value based on power, influence, riches, or fame. Instead, the wedding banquet of Christ and the Church would be marked by the free-flowing wine of salvation, abundant and excellent, not given based on a person's “worthiness” but only on the generosity—the love—of the bridegroom.
Reflection questions:
Does my social status in my community matter so much to me that it is a hindrance in my becoming a follower of Christ?
How do I treat the people around me, especially those I consider lower in social rank?
Do I accept the heavenly wine as a gift or do I keep trying to earn it? Am I trying to climb up the ranks in community through high-profile service?
* Based on a term paper submitted to Sr. Nicet Vargas, OSA (March 2012).
No wedding reception to my knowledge, however, can claim to have superior wine made from water except the wedding banquet in Cana, Galilee in the gospel of John.
Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it. When the steward tasted the wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior one after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now. – John 2: 6 – 10 (NRSV)
Such a rich pericope invites many interpretations but let's take a look at whether the seating arrangements at such a wedding banquet would matter.
The reason for my curiosity: an article by David H. Sick, “The Architriklinos at Cana,” in the Journal of Biblical Literature, 130 (2011): 513 – 526 [http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P3-2543151911.html]. The architriklinos (“αρχιτρίκλιυος”) in John 2:8 and 9 is the steward in our pericope. What tickled my imagination was the last part of Sick's article where he suggests that Jesus not only saved newly weds from social humiliation by remedying the shortage of wine but he also possibly nullified the social order of the day.
Let's backtrack a bit and take a look at what the Jewish Encyclopedia has to say. In describing the different types of banquets a student of the law would be required to attend (wedding feast included), the Jewish Encyclopedia states that “the various rules regarding the invitation and the seating of the guests, the mixing of the wine and the serving of the dishes, to be observed by the master of the banquet, called in Greek 'αρχιτρίκλιυος,' by the cook, and the servant of the house ('shamash'), were no less strictly observed by the Jews than by the Greeks and Romans as may be learned from Ber. Vii.; Tosef., Ber. iv.-vii.; Derek 'Erez Rabba and Zutta.”1
Though the study was made for the gospel of Luke, useful information can be gleaned from Willi Braun's discussion of Mediterranean dining practices in the first century (See Feasting and Social Rhetoric in Luke 14, Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series 85). Braun describes the “cycle of reciprocity”2 which characterized Greco-Roman hospitality. Offers of hospitality had to be carefully considered because there were implied costs and obligations—one had to invite the host back for an equivalent feast in the future. In a highly stratified social set up, the guest list was a crucial factor in deciding to accept or decline an invitation since being with the right sort of people mattered tremendously. The dinner party was not only a social event but a political means to assert one's pride and honor “in patterns of balanced reciprocity,” as well as “an essential forum for furthering ambitions and expanding one's sphere of influence...”3
Braun's study suggests “the values of honour and shame as the controlling and motivating forces in virtually every domain of social interaction” and points to “a social system marked by enforced boundaries between rich and poor, noble and ignoble, the elite and the lowly classes” in the context of the elite Greco-Roman symposia and dinner-party scene.4
Jodi Magness's Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit: Jewish Daily Life in the Time of Jesus is also a very interesting read. Magness examined archaeological and literary evidence to paint a picture of life at the time of Jesus. Evidence of hellenization—specifically Greco-Roman influence on dining customs—includes the imported potteries discovered at Jericho and Jerusalem during the time of Herod, which indicates “the close ties between Herod and his family, on the one hand, and Augustus and members of the imperial family... on the other hand.” These close ties translated to Herod adopting Roman fashions and customs, which in turn were “imitated (on a more limited scale) by the Judean elite.”5 The fragments of imported pottery and “the appearance of Italian pans in the houses of the upper class Jewish inhabitants in Jerusalem” is taken to mean that “Jews were open to Roman culinary influences and prepared to try and taste new food.”6
Is the Greco-Roman influence more pervasive among the elite—similar to the character of Doña Victorina in Jose Rizal's Noli Me Tangere? Magness notes how the absence of a certain type of pottery, in contrast to its pervasive presence in the courts of Herod, might possibly signify resistance of the Jewish people to the Romans (though the alternative explanation of purity laws is not ruled out).
In Galilee, Jewish villagers generally dined while sitting on the ground. Rabbinic literature refers to both the dining seats and couches:
“What is the order for reclining [when several eat together]? When there are two couches (mţwt), the greatest [in importance] among them reclines at the head of the first, the second [in importance] to him reclines below him. (t. Ber. 5:6)”7
In the gospel itself, the beloved disciple is reclining next to Jesus (Jn 13:23).
Social order is also explicitly demonstrated in Luke 14: 8 – 10, which specifically recommends choosing the lowest place in a banquet as a lesson on humility.
It seems that both Roman and Jewish dining customs reflect social strata. “Seating arrangements at a Roman banquet were governed by rules that reflected each diner's rank and status in society.”8 The spacious triclinia of the Hasmonean and Herodian palaces—used for formal dinners, banquets and receptions—indicate that the Jewish ruling class structured itself according to these social norms.
Going back to Sick, he writes: “... both inscriptions from Stratonicea imply that wine is to be distributed by social rank. The inscription of Marcus Aurelisu Errianos states that he gave wine for those of 'each age group, fortune, and the resident aliens in assembly.' Such a social hierarchy for the distribution of wine is a recurrent feature of banquets across the Mediterranean in the first century, the famous wedding feast at Cana included. Both Pliny and Martial complain of dinners where the host served higher quality food and wine to those of higher status.”9
To add to his argument, Sick provides his own translation of Pliny's complaint in a letter to Junius Avitus to demonstrate how the quality of wine acted as a social marker:
“He had also divided the wine into three sorts by small flagons, not for the sake of freedom of choice but to prohibit a right of refusal. There was one kind for myself and the host, another for his lesser friends (for he has friends in rank), and another for his and our freedmen. (Ep. 2.6.2)”10
What are the implications therefore on the story of Jesus turning water into wine? Yes, Jesus provides wine and seemingly averts a social disaster—i.e., the humiliation of the host—since running out of wine at a wedding was considered a serious problem (Jn 2:3) as “one who urged a neighbor to attend his wedding without showing proper hospitality is listed among thieves (t. B. Qam. 7:8).”11
But Jesus also “uses the hierarchy of wine... to invert the social if not religious order. By turning a superabundant quantity of water into wine of heavenly quality and reserving it until the end of the banquet, Jesus undermines the system.”12
In a nutshell, Roman-Greco political and cultural power in Palestine during the time of Jesus may have influenced the gospel of John. Both in hellenist and Judaic culture, ranking is part of the dining customs, though the delineation among the social strata in the Roman-Greco context seems more defined—which is evidenced even in the quality of wine served, i.e., better quality wine for the important guests and inferior quality for the less-important guests.
Taking these possibilities, that there is a highly stratified social structure in place at the Cana wedding and the quality of wine is a mark of such position, it would have been a major upset to those concerned with their place in society to have heavenly wine served to everyone equally, in non-recognition of social status. Superior wine served in abundance for anyone who wishes, for however long the feast will continue, effectively abrogates the existing social structures. Perhaps this can even be extended—would the carefully observed balance of reciprocity present a pressure of obligation to guests to provide a similar banquet even if it might be impossible? Or would the impossibility of providing a similar quality and quantity of wine be another indication of the messianic quality of the banquet, and therefore an indication of the messiah?
John 2: 6 – 10 may not normally lend itself to interpretation from a liberation perspective but taken in a particular context, the water-into-wine miracle could also be read as a critique of oppressive social structures, perhaps of the Roman powers-that-be, or the religious and political Jewish leaders who wished to preserve the status quo. If read as a foreshadowing of the messianic banquet, it could be interpreted as one that does away with worldly social structures that determine a person's value based on power, influence, riches, or fame. Instead, the wedding banquet of Christ and the Church would be marked by the free-flowing wine of salvation, abundant and excellent, not given based on a person's “worthiness” but only on the generosity—the love—of the bridegroom.
Reflection questions:
Does my social status in my community matter so much to me that it is a hindrance in my becoming a follower of Christ?
How do I treat the people around me, especially those I consider lower in social rank?
Do I accept the heavenly wine as a gift or do I keep trying to earn it? Am I trying to climb up the ranks in community through high-profile service?
1 The Jewish Encyclopedia: Vol II Apocrypha – Benash (New York and London: Funk and Wagnalls Co., 1902), s.v. “Banquets”.
2 Willi Braun, Feasting and Social Rhetoric in Luke 14, Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series 85 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), p. 102.
3 Ibid., p. 104 - 105.
4 Ibid., p. 5.
5 Jodi Magness, Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit: Jewish Daily Life in the Time of Jesus (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2011), p. 56.
6 Rosenthal-Heginbottom, “Hellenestic and Early Roman Fine Ware,” 217. Quoted in Jodi Magness, Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit: Jewish Daily Life in the Time of Jesus (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2011).
7 Jodi Magness, Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit: Jewish Daily Life in the Time of Jesus (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2011), p. 82.
8 Ibid., p. 77.
9 David H. Sick, “The Architriklinos at Cana,” JBL, 130 (2011), p. 519.
10 Ibid.
11 Dictionary of the New Testament Background (Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 2000), s.v. “Marriage”.
12 David H. Sick, “The Architriklinos at Cana,” JBL, 130 (2011), p. 519.
* Based on a term paper submitted to Sr. Nicet Vargas, OSA (March 2012).
I'd like to have quoted from this response to Sick's paper in my assignment but I can't find enough details on the author to create a reference.....shame, but thanks, I've enjoyed reading this blog.
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