BEFORE THE SPRING IS COMING - SERMON AND REFLECTIONS ON JOHN 12:20-33 - DR. MARK HEANEY, ST. AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY EPISCOPAL CHURCH

​Sermon: Before the Spring is Coming                                                                                  
John 12: 20-33                                                                                                                           
 
 
As I am driving down the streets these days, two conflicting sights arise before my eyes. I see the broken trees, gnarly, torn and jagged. And then I see the grass, green in patches and still brown in others. I witness some shrubs beginning to leaf out, while others appear dead from the devastating winter freeze of only a few weeks ago. I gaze at hyacinths and daffodils bravely showing their new blossoms above the ground. I see all this and I wonder, “what will this spring truly be like.” Life and death, posing side by side, cause us to reflect. They call us to gather together these twin realities that always exist side by side, whether we choose to acknowledge them or not.
 
Jesus was at a turning point in his ministry. He had reached his final destination in Jerusalem and people were talking. Some foreigners were speculating, “Who is this Jesus we have been hearing about?” But, they didn’t just want to hear about him. They wanted to see him, face to face. So they turned to one of Jesus’ disciples, Phillip and said, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” Philip reported this to Andrew and Andrew and Philip together went to Jesus and told him about the request. That request seemed to go nowhere.
 
The scripture never tells us whether or not these seekers were able to meet with the one that they sought out. Instead, in the story we see Jesus reflecting upon the meaning of what was about to take place in his life and ministry. This was a turning point of such cosmic proportions, that the request for an audience by a few curiosity seekers paled in comparison. To illustrate this depth of meaning, Jesus first speaks a brief parable. “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” It is not difficult to see that this parable is pointing the reader ahead to what is about to happen. We the reader already know that Jesus is preparing to make the slow and steady march toward the cross. John tells us that in this death he will be glorified. But it involves his death, nonetheless. And we all know, that coming face to face with death is never easy.
 
The theme of death and life is prominent in this passage.  Jesus speaks about our human tendency to cling to life in this world. He tells his listeners that if we hold too tightly to the our earthly lives, we will lose the promise of eternal life.  Jesus uses this profoundly simple parable to say that to be his follower is more than merely sitting and admiring him, as perhaps the Greek visitors wanted to do. Indeed, it is about serving him and following him on his journey. A journey which ultimately leads to a cross.
 
Jesus words are troubling for us to hear today. In the same way that it was troubling for Jesus’ psyche as he contemplated what he was facing in the coming days. He wondered to himself, should I ask my Father God to spare me from the agony that awaits? So, we too, are tempted to take the easy road of cheap grace and half-hearted discipleship. But Jesus was given an indication, expressed in John as a voice from heaven. This voice affirmed that there was a reason for his sacrifice. That by offering his life, by being lifted up (that is on the cross) all seekers would be able to see him. And, in that seeing, all would be drawn toward the life that endures. In this glorification, all humanity can see beyond the suffering of our present time and place, to a place of union and communion with him and all of his followers.
 
What or whom are you seeking? Are you looking to see Jesus in the midst of these troubling times? And if you are wanting to see Jesus, what does that mean anyway? I think this passage gives us a few clues about what seeking Jesus is and what it is not. I think it is quite clear that seeking Jesus is not an esoteric, philosophical pursuit. It is not seeking to gain intellectual knowledge. Perhaps this is what the Greek visitors to Jerusalem were all about. No, seeking Jesus is something much more embodied, much more visceral, much more active, much more real. It is something that not only involves our brains, but involves our hearts, our souls and our wills. Jesus said my psyche is troubled. In this he was saying that his very soul was troubled as he contemplated his coming days. His soul, the very seat of his affections and his will was troubled. The very breath of life which was within him, his self, his person was torn by the passions of his circumstances.
 
To seek Jesus in these troubling times is not to flex our strength, but to come face to face with our weaknesses. This passage is in no way about a triumphant, conquering Jesus. It is not of a salvific hero riding with sword drawn on a black stallion of victory. Those who die, those who lose, those who are raised up on a cross and killed are the ones who will be honored. They are the ones who in the end will find life. This passage is about God’s strength which is gained through vulnerability. It is about God’s power which comes through what appears to be weak in the world. It is about God’s justice which is pursued through love, mercy and forgiveness.
 
Where is it that we will see Jesus? Not in the strong and powerful, but in the meekness, humbleness and brokenness of this world. In order to see, the truth of dying to this world must be revealed. We are called in this truth to let go of the small visions we so stubbornly cling to and embrace the larger reality of God’s transformation of our world. We are called to faith. This is not a faith that desires us to be intellectual hairsplitters, but a faith that trusts that the realm of God is possible. It is a faith that God’s Kingdom does come on earth. It is a faith that humble love, gentle mercy and heartfelt sacrifice toward those around us is the good and proper way to be a follower of Jesus Christ.
 
“Sir, we want to see Jesus.” But do we really? For seeing Jesus involves gazing upon the cross of our vulnerability, our shame, our brokenness, our hurt, our mortality. Do we really want to see that? Do we really want to live in that reality? My day job, as it were, is as a pastoral psychotherapist. Sometimes that involves me in working with couples who are in conflict and potentially facing divorce. The statistics tells us that this is generally not a successful venture. But what I can say, is that sometimes through the process of coming together we are able to renew and restore broken relationships. What this process requires, I am convinced is that all three of us, myself included, must enter into a process of becoming vulnerable to one another. We must set aside our self-conceit, let go of the notion that we are right and the others are wrong. We must engage in the hard work of letting go of our certainties and listening to the truth of the other in our midst. I am truly happy to say that sometimes this process works. And, when it does you can feel a lightness in the air as old grievances and animosities are let go and love and compassion are released.
 
Perhaps for me, this is a glimpse of what it means to see Jesus. It is to see fellow companions on the human journey let go of old hurts, pains and animosities from the past. It is to see each other held in a common embrace of God’s love, compassion and mercy. Where in your life, might Jesus be waiting to greet you? Where might you see Jesus in these coming days. Let this be a question we ask ourselves, as we together make the journey to the cross and beyond to an open tomb.
 
I close with this poem from John M. C Crum:
 
 
Now the Green Blade Rises, by John M. C. Crum (1872-1958)
Now the green blade rises from the buried grain,
Wheat that in dark earth many days has lain;
Love lives again, that with the dead has been;
Love has come again, like wheat that springs up green.
 
In the grave they laid him, Love whom hate had slain;
Thinking that he never would awake again,
Laid in the earth like grain that sleeps unseen;
Love has come again, like wheat that springs up green.


Up he sprang at Easter, like the risen grain,
He who for the three days in the grave had lain;
Raised from the dead, my living Lord is seen;
Love has come again, like wheat that springs up green.
 
When our hears are wintry, grieving, or in pain,
Then your touch can call us back to life again.
Fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been;
Love has come again, like wheat that springs up green.
 
 
 
 Dr. Mark Heaney, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church