Jeremiah 31: 31-34
Psalm 51: 1-12
Psalm 119: 9-16
Hebrew’s 5: 5-10
John 12: 20-35
April 2, 2005

On a CD sold to raise money for breast cancer research, Holly Cole sings the Johnny Nash song, “I Can See Clearly Now” as an upbeat and optimistic look at life “after the rain”.

Sight is often used as a metaphor for many kinds of understanding and knowledge. Someone talks to me about a problem they are having with a child, for example, and they ask, “Can you see why I am so worried?” Or it is used as a metaphor for an encounter that involves much more than a mere sighting. One day I saw my doctor at Champlain Place. I was walking along and saw her pushing a shopping cart containing a toddler. I nodded and said “hello” and she nodded back and said “hello”. However when I call for an appointment to ‘see’ the doctor I expect more than a nod and greeting at a distance. I expect discussion, interaction, examination, diagnosis, advice and if advisable, a prescription.

Today’s Gospel lesson comes from that part of John’s gospel that lies between “his ministry” and “his hour”. In John’s Gospel, much more so than in the others Jesus spends a great deal of time reflecting on the meaning of what is going to happen - - in other words, his death on the cross and his resurrection. As the gospels tell us, the meaning of many events and many teachings only becomes clear after it has all happened and the community that came to be called the Church has had time to think about it and to reflect on it. So this is much more than an event, it is an event told with a specific and particular purpose in mind: the teaching of Jesus on death and life.

In today’s gospel lesson some people referred to simply as “Greeks” asked to see Jesus. Clearly, they wanted to speak with him. Perhaps they wanted to ask questions. Perhaps they wanted to debate a point of philosophy or theology. Clearly, they wanted a meaningful encounter. Most likely they wanted to become his disciples.

Even the convoluted path the message takes before it finally reaches Jesus has a point in John’s gospel. It mirrors the way in which the Good News will spread as the church becomes established after the resurrection.

When the message finally reaches Jesus (you did notice the convoluted path the message took) he does not respond to the request at all, but speaks of seeds and something he vaguely refers to as “his hour”.

While an initial glance at the passage might lead us to believe that Jesus just didn’t want to meet with these Greeks, I think that the answer was indeed connected and very intentional.

A number of years ago a minister went to a new pastoral charge and prided himself on the eloquence of his sermons. One day a note was put in the offering place and it said, simply, “Sir we wish to see Jesus”. I was told also of another church which has these same words engraved on the preachers’s side of the pulpit, where they can’t be overlooked.

It seems to me that Jesus’ response to the request of these Greeks, presumably Greek speaking Jewish men, is the key to our search for a meaningful encounter with the Holy One of God.

This is the season for planting, or at least for making final preparations for planting. The snow is gone, (what little we had that is), the furrows of the fall plowing or the stubble left over from the harvest seem to be calling to be planted once again.

Farming is many things, but one of the things that can be said with certainty about farming is that it is an uncertain and risky business. You can’t be sure of a crop, even with the best seed, even with the best fertilizer, even with the best planting practices, even when you plant by the recommended dates. The amount of rainfall, the chance of a late spring frost or an early fall one, and various pests and weeds all influence the size quality of the crop. However as every farmer knows, the harvest will never come if the sowing does not occur.

In a way though, this passage looks at the whole business from the point of view of the individual seed. If the seed does not die there will be no harvest. The whole point of the seed’s existence is to die in order to produce a crop. Perhaps the onion or the tulip are different in that a they often grow bigger and the seed does not die, but with all other crops, including potatoes, the seed gives it’s life up, as it were, for the sake of the harvest. That’s just the way it is. I think that this is the point Jesus is trying to get across to the Greeks and to his other followers.

So as an answer to the Greeks’ request for an encounter with him, Jesus proposes that they live in this way; he asks them to emulate this kind of lifestyle themselves, and in so doing they will find that they have encountered him. And in a large part this lifestyle and life of faithfulness is its own reward. It is the life and substance of the Kingdom on earth.

So much of the gospel message is about paradox; lose your life and it will be found; give and you will receive. In some ways it sounds like some kind of “Guaranteed Investment Certificate”. Yet there is a very real element of risk inherent in this passage. So much of what we are called to do and be as Christians is about risk, not about certainty. Many evangelists on television and authors of books present a gospel of wealth and prosperity and they present the gospel as if it were an investment plan. Sacrifice in the short term and you will be rewarded in the long term, and most would equate worldly prosperity as well as the heavenly prize with this reward. I don’t think that this is an accurate or faithful representation of the Gospel of Jesus of Nazareth. We don’t ‘keep our noses clean’ or ‘go the second mile’ because of the heavenly reward; we do this because it is part and parcel of the living Gospel community. It is as we do this and live and love in this way that the world sees Jesus in and through us.

What I think that Jesus is talking about here in this passage is the risk without the iron-clad guarantee of a specific prize, self-giving love without possibility of the money-back refund; the risk for the sake of the Gospel; the certainty that one is being as faithful as one can be, as the reward. For there are indeed some seeds which do not germinate, seeds which do not produce a plant which grows to maturity, but taking the risk of dying for the possibility of new life is the purpose of the seed; the reason for it’s existence.

Some of us are much more comfortable with risk than others. Within the church and our own lives our limited resources seem to compel us to be conservative in our sowing because we don’t have much to go around.

Yet we are called to live out this kind of risk taking where the planting is the only thing for which we can be responsible. Some of these stories are on our television news; many are not. The four men of faith who went to Baghdad with Christian Peacemakers Teams knew about the grain of wheat falling to the earth and dying. While only three were released, I am confident that the falling into the earth of the fourth will someday produce an abundant harvest.

The fisher-folk who quite literally risked their lives to rescue passengers from the sinking ferry, Queen of the North in BC not all that long ago, knew about the grain of wheat falling to the earth. They know about risking lives to save lives; they know about the grain of wheat falling to the ground.

As people to follow after Jesus of Nazareth we show Jesus to others when we are like the seed that gives it’s life for the hope of abundant harvest. All around us the signs of spring are appearing and I trust will continue to do so. The bulbs I sacrificed last fall will produce a harvest, most of them. However, as you know, if I had left them on the shelf in my storage space I would not have had any flowers. While success is not guaranteed, what is, is the failure that comes from not risking, not trying, the not being faithful.

As the events of Holy Week began to unfold we are told that Jesus struggled to find another way, yet in intense prayer he saw that this was what was being demanded of him. He trusted that the power of God would make something good come from what could only be a very painful and agonizing death.

Jesus trusted that the way of life he modelled for his followers would be a way for them to respond to his message and to the love of the God who has led and sustained him.

As we walk these final days of Lent we are asked not only to walk in the steps of Jesus but also to seek to have our minds, hearts and wills transformed by the mind and will of God as revealed in Jesus, the Christ.

We are not given guarantees of success. We are only given the promise that God will be with us and that in time, in God’s time and in God’s way the harvest will be abundant.

Amen.

Isaiah 50: 4-9a
Psalm 118: 1-2, 19-29
Philippians 2: 5-11
Mark 11: 1-11

I went to the Gold Cup and Saucer Parade in Charlottetown last summer. My sister and I started out early that day with breakfast at Cora’s and then we staked out our spot across the street from the Confederation Centre where the official reviewing stands were. Then we waited and waited. Somehow we had not saved enough room for all the people for whom we were supposed to save spaces (of course there were a few extras). It was a hot and sunny morning and I ended up with a sunburn.

I’ve probably only gone to that parade a couple of times in the last 20 years. As with all parades many things have changed over time, but the one thing that has not changed much are the main feature of the parade - the Gold Cup and Saucer Girls. They dress in the colours of the horse they have drawn for the race which gives its name to the parade and each sits high on the back of a convertible, smiles and waves to the crowds.

All in all, I must say that the parade was a bit of a disappointment. There weren’t as may really creative or funny floats as I remembered from past years and there weren’t as many bands and not as many horses. I wasn’t comparing it to the parades on television, you couldn’t expect Charlottetown to measure up to the Rose Bowl parade, but I was comparing it to the parades from my childhood; the parades of memory. The parades back then were longer and bigger and more grand, and I loved the horses and the riders with their flags and their fine saddles and their beautiful Stetsons. At least they seemed that way. Of course, it’s hard to beat a childhood memory.

The passage from Mark’s gospel and the long liturgical tradition of the church talks about the palm parade that sprang up when Jesus entered Jerusalem on that long ago day. It is said they shouted “Hosanna” and spread their coats on the ground and waved leafy branches. And other gospels tell us that Jesus didn’t choose just any animal, but a very specific one.

When I was in elementary school we took a field trip to a local horse farm and a few of us were selected to ride a beautiful large horse (it might have been a Clyde, but it may have been just a Quarter Horse- I don’t know, it was a long time ago.) It was a great to be chosen and I could have stayed on that horse’s back all day.

Then anyone would wanted to was invited to have a ride on the donkey. I took my turn along with the rest and that was a completely different experience. Every time the donkey took a step the bony backbone moved and it was a very uncomfortable ride. I was glad when my turn was done.

A donkey is not an animal most people want to ride. In Jesus’ day lots of people did, as they had nothing else, but it was primarily a beast of burden, you used it to carry your stuff! A king or a general would not be caught dead riding on a donkey but would ride a fine horse. It is said that a horse represented war and worldly power but that a donkey represented peace and powerlessness. There were many people in Jesus day who were just waiting for the chance to get enough momentum going so that the hated Romans could be overthrown and the throne of Israel would once again be occupied by a Son of David.

But notice that while Jesus seems to accept the title of Messiah, the mythic figure that generations of people had expected to come and lead the revolution, he did not accept the role they trued to force him into. He was not one to take political power. He was not one to overthrow any army, that of Rome, or anyone else’s either. And, we note, he chose an animal of peace, not of war. We call it a triumphal entry, but I doubt that very many people took all that much notice. Certainly, it was not the major public event we would sometimes like to think it was.

As I said, Jesus chose the kind of animal that the King of Israel would be least expected to ride. Why? Well I think it was very much in tune with his whole ministry of seeking to change people’s assumptions about his ministry and his mission.

His mission was not to return the Davidic king to the throne of Israel but to return the God of the ages to the hearts of Israel. In a sense, he called his fellow children of Israel back to the faith of their ancestors. It seems that there was a large gap between what Jesus saw as his own mission and what the people expected when they came to recognize him as the Messiah.

Part of what we have to come to grips with, at this time of year is the fact that this shouting of “Hosanna” very quickly turned into shouts of “crucify him”. And of course, it’s not as important to get a handle on what happened then as it is to get a handle on how we abandon our faith principles when the going gets a little rough or when it does not give us what we expected.

The people were expecting the kind of saviour who would make their nation great once again but the message of Jesus was about showing love to God and others. He talked about God’s love for them, to be sure, but he also talked about a kind of love that would transform them and call from them a radical life changing kind of love. For Jesus the parables which spoke of loving neighbour and forgiving even the most egregious of social sins were more than ‘good ideas’, they were calls to radical transformation, calls to action.

Jesus talked about the love of God transforming the lives of believers in such a way that they would be strengthened to serve by showing that love to the unlovable, to the outcast, to those deemed to be outside of the community. I believe that Jesus did not associate with lepers and sinners and prostitutes and tax collectors so that they would repent and be saved, as we might understand the terms, but so that this community could model that kind of love and live in the same way. They were the people that most needed to hear the good news of God’s inclusive and boundless love and to experience radically inclusive community that brought the kind of wholeneness that Jesus sought for everyone.

As to his political aspirations, it’s not that he wasn’t interested in politics, it’s that he wasn’t interested in the kinds of political aspirations that the common expectations placed on him. He didn’t want kingly power; he wanted the power of a servant which would transform the very fabric of life. His aspirations were political in that he wanted to transform the social fabric of his community from one with rigid barriers and a narrow view of God to one which was inclusive and allowed the power of God to invade every aspect of life.

There were some who had a great deal to lose if Jesus vision caught on and they managed to turn enough people against him so that he ended up being crucified.

However, this can very much remain an interesting bit of historical fact unless we allow it to be translated into our lives and our living out of our faith.

Many years ago, the American President, John F. Kennedy in addressing his nation said something like, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country”. I think that this advice applies very well to the Christian message and to the message of Holy Week.

As a people of God in general and as a Church community in particular we are always called to look beyond our doors, to look beyond those folks who are “the same as us” and to model those things that Jesus taught about God’s love and the inclusion of those who are often considered outsiders. We sometimes draw boundaries so that we can limit our need to respond or care. Sometimes the phrase, “Charity begins at home” ends up meaning , “You have to look after your own, and only your own”. Nothing could be further from the gospel message, but all too often we look at our seemingly limited resources of time and money and we draw lines between ‘them and us’. We absolve ourselves of responsibility for things we could help address. In our increasingly global economy we refuse to see the connections between our wealth and the poverty of some parts of the world. We find all of this uncomfortable so we don’t look, we prefer not to think, and like Jesus neighbours did on that long ago day, we shoot the messenger, the one who speaks to us of another way.

The Christian faith isn’t all about feeling good and being comfortable and singing happy hymns about heaven and our place in it, it’s about stepping forward in faith, walking in the steps of Jesus, daring to speak the love of God in a world that is hurting, within communities that sometimes hurt one another and trusting that in the end the way of Jesus will give us fullness of life and true meaning to our living.

The question asked of us in the season of Lent and particularly during Holy Week is: “Are we willing to walk that road?

Are we willing to be Jesus’ friends when all else have left him? Are we willing to be Jesus’ friends when discipleship is costly? Are we willing not only to join those who shouted Hosanna on that long ago day but also to accompany him to the cross, trusting that the God of life and love WILL have the last word?

Are we willing?

Amen.