Emptiness to Abundance

By: Angel Ibarra

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O lord, my strength and my redeemer.

Good morning, St. Andrew’s! I would like to express my gratitude to Mtr. Brenda for graciously inviting me to speak with you today. As Mtr. Brenda has already mentioned, my name is Angel Ibarra, and I am the Associate Director of Strategic Partnerships and Government Affairs at Episcopal Community Services. As you may already know, ECS is the social services arm of the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego, and we share a long and close relationship with St. Andrew’s parish and people, so I am really excited to be here with you today to celebrate our shared faith and history.

"They have no wine."

With those words, Mary reveals a truth we all face at some point in our lives—there comes a day when the wine runs out. The glass is empty. The celebration ends. Life feels dry and hollow, stripped of vibrancy and joy. Nothing seems to grow or stir within us. The richness and beauty that once filled our days feel absent, leaving us wondering if we will ever experience joy again.

We’ve all known moments like these. Perhaps it was the death of a loved one, the loss of a friendship or marriage, or the ache of feeling unseen or unworthy. Some wrestle with the longing for meaning and purpose, while others carry the weight of guilt, regret, or disappointment. Fear of the unknown, failure, or self-doubt can cloud our spirits. And then there are the deeper aches—those unnameable longings, the silent prayers that feel unanswered, the doubts that linger.

These are not just stories from the past. Some of us are living them today. We need only look around our community or read the headlines to see the ache of empty cups and unmet needs.

It is into that very moment of emptiness and need that Jesus steps in. Today’s Gospel recounts his first public miracle at a wedding in Cana, where the wine runs out—an embarrassing crisis in a culture where hospitality was sacred. For the bride and groom, it must have felt like a disaster, a failure, the celebration falling apart. Mary, noticing this, turns to her son and gently says, “They have no wine.” Her words are not a criticism or judgment but a simple observation, a recognition of need.

Mary understands something profound about Jesus—he can transform moments of emptiness into abundance, bringing healing and fullness where there is need. With quiet confidence, she turns to him for help, trusting in his goodness without hesitation.

What follows is remarkable. Jesus transforms water, reserved for purification rituals, into the finest wine. This first sign reveals something essential about life with Christ: it is not about strict rules, appearances, or checking boxes of religious obligation. Instead, it points to the overflowing joy, abundance, and transformation that come from being close to Jesus. Life with him is not defined by ritual but by the fullness of God’s grace—rich, deep, and poured out with generosity.

As the disciples stay with Jesus, they will see him continue to break and tear down rituals and rules as he heals the sick and lame. They will watch as those same sick and lame leave rejoicing, as though they’ve just come from the most joyful of celebrations. Like the servants who brought the wine to the steward for tasting, the disciples will understand the source of this transformation, even when others do not. They will become Christ’s messengers, offering the “good wine” of the Gospel so others may taste and see God’s goodness for themselves.

Today's Gospel calls us to do two things. First, like Mary, we must have the courage to acknowledge our need for help—to name the moments when the wine has run out, when life feels empty, dry, and in need of renewal. This honesty is not a weakness but the first step toward transformation. Second, we are invited to follow Mary’s instruction to “Do whatever he tells you.” Her words are a call to trust, to act with faith even when the path ahead seems unclear. When we bring our emptiness before Christ and respond with obedience to his call, we open ourselves to the abundant life he offers—the “good wine” of joy, grace, and purpose. But what is it that Jesus calls us to do? My guess is that’s part of why we’re gathered here today—to listen together, to seek his voice in scripture, prayer, and community, and to discover how we are being called to live more fully into his love.

Thankfully, Jesus has given us clear guidance through an entire book—a little book called the Bible—that shows us how to receive this good wine of abundant life. His words invite us to love, to serve, and to draw near to God and one another. Yet, throughout history, far too many have misused scripture as a tool for exclusion, judgment, and control. Passages have been taken out of context, twisted to justify prejudice, and wielded like weapons to draw dividing lines between who is "worthy" and who is not.

But when I read the Gospels, I see something profoundly different. I see a Jesus who crosses boundaries, who dines with tax collectors and sinners, who lifts the broken and heals the wounded. I see a Jesus who steps into places of shame and scarcity—like a wedding where the wine has run out—and responds with grace, abundance, and joy. His message is not one of gatekeeping but of radical, barrier-breaking love.

The good wine that Jesus offers is not meant for a select few; it is freely poured out for everyone, especially for those whom society has pushed aside. As followers of Christ, we are called not to hoard this grace but to share it—to expand the table, to welcome the stranger, and to ensure that all have the opportunity to experience the depth of God’s love.

At Episcopal Community Services, this is exactly where we are called to serve: standing beside individuals and families who have been overlooked, forgotten, or left behind. ECS is one of the ways our Episcopal community demonstrates this love and mercy to the San Diego community. We work in areas such as homelessness, substance use disorder treatment, and early childhood education and mental health. Through our wide-ranging services, we respond to Christ’s call to love, uplift, and include those most in need. And we do not do this work alone. We collaborate with our partners in ministry throughout the diocese, including St. Andrew’s, to address the most pressing needs in our community.

One example of this shared mission is our Uptown Safe Haven, a transitional housing program that provides housing and wraparound services for individuals who are chronically homeless and have a diagnosed mental health disorder. Through the supportive services ECS offers and through partnerships with other Episcopal congregations like St. James by the Sea, which provides volunteers and art supplies for monthly art classes, we work to restore dignity and hope. St. Paul's Cathedral also contributed by sending a team of volunteers this holiday season to decorate Safe Haven for Christmas, providing decorations, a Christmas tree, and gift cards (gifts) for each resident. This is a beautiful example of how we share the joy that being in Christ brings us, offering the good wine we receive when we follow His call to love and serve others.

So, as we leave today, let us remember that life with Christ is not about hollow rituals but about embracing the fullness of grace—a grace that transforms scarcity into abundance, despair into hope, and exclusion into belonging. We are called to be part of that miracle, not as passive observers but as active participants, sharing the good wine of God’s love with a world in need. May we have the courage, like Mary, to name the moments when the wine runs out and the faith to trust in Christ’s power to bring transformation and renewal. And as we go forth, may we continue to serve together—through ministries like those at ECS and beyond—so that all may experience the richness of God’s mercy, justice, and joy. Amen.

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