Grains of Wheat

This past weekend it was my turn again for the homily. I spent a couple of weeks reflecting on the gospel (John 12, 20-33), and intended to write about the beginning: "We want to see Jesus." I was all prepared to ask if this is the reason that people came to Mass, and to take a look at the Mass as we celebrate it at St. Bridget, and ask aloud if we were doing our best to enable people to really see Jesus -- from the moment someone walks in ("How well do we greet people -- with the Spirit?"), to the times when the scripture is read ("Do we PROCLAIM it so that people can really understand and see God, or do we just read it?"), to the homily ("Is the homily making Jesus ALIVE TO US?"), to the Eucharist ("Do we really sense the REAL PRESENCE?").

But somewhere along the line, I was ambushed by the Jesus I saw & heard, and felt the heaviness of his words, spoken with the feeling of his approaching death. So that's what came out.

Good morning. It’s a pleasure to be with you this morning. How’s your Lent coming along? I hope that when we began Lent, you had some goals for yourself, whatever they were. As for my Lent, I promised God that I would take better care of my body, that I would exercise more, eat more carefully and mindfully; and that I would take better care of my soul, especially that I would come to daily Mass a lot more; and that in all those things I’d consciously try to listen to what God was saying to me and my life. I was fortunate to have the opportunity to make a weekend retreat last weekend with my fellow deacons and their wives, and I want to thank you for praying at Mass for me and for Joan last weekend when we were on that retreat. I know that a good many parishioners have made retreats this Lent – the parish sponsored weekend retreats for both men and women, and we also had Fr. Bob Kennedy here with us, for Mass last weekend and an open parish retreat this week, and we counted at least 135 parishioners who made parts or all of those retreat days.

But however this Lent has gone for you, today our scriptures remind us that we’re getting close to the end. In fact, this passage from John’s gospel takes place immediately after the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem that we celebrate next week on Palm Sunday. One minute, the Pharisees are surveying the crowds cheering for Jesus and griping to each other, “Look at that, the whole world has gone after him.” And immediately after that, our scriptures tell of these Greeks we meet today, who have come to Jerusalem and who now come up to the disciples and say they would like to see Jesus.

Now, wouldn’t you expect that there would be some residual excitement, some euphoria, among the disciples or with Jesus, after such a triumphal reception by the crowd? But that’s not where Jesus’ head is. It could seem like it at first, because he says “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” But we know, don’t we, that Jesus is not talking about a glory of adulation and acclaim. And we know that Jesus is not really talking in the abstract when he says, “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains but a grain of wheat.” He’s talking about his own coming death. And it’s not just a rhetorical question when he asks aloud, “What should I say, ‘Father save me from this hour?’” He’s thinking, the hour of his own death; and so he answers his own question, “No, it is for this reason” – to offer up his own life —“that I have come to this hour.”

So this passage today is not at all just an abstract teaching for us to play around with in our mind lightly. Jesus means what he says today, it’s weighing heavily on his mind -- and he’s going to demonstrate what he means, in just a few short days. So, does that help us to take these words more seriously? It might even be a worthy meditation for the rest of our Lent, John 12, v 20-33.

And what about the words, “Those who love their life in this world will lose it”? In other words, “Those who love this life, those who hang onto this world, as if it were the only world they had; those who value this life in this world more than they value the eternal life we are all made for” – they will surely lose it. But those who offer their lives up … they will save it, they will know eternal life.

Now if you believe that, and I hope you do, I would say that you’re probably in the minority – at least here in the United States, and much of the western world. From my observation, people who live in societies like ours tend to be extremely passionate about activities like making money, getting ahead in the workplace, buying lots of stuff, and having a great time. That’s where their focus is. And in the same way, I think we all know of men and women who are extremely passionate about their physical health and appearance – who wouldn’t miss a workout at the gym, who get all kinds of plastic surgery, and who are incredibly strict about their diets, and if you ask them about reps, or calories, or the best personal fitness coach, or good plastic surgeons, they can go on for hours. But what happens if you ask any of these same people about the last time they went to Mass or the sacrament of Reconciliation, or the last time they read scripture on their own, or prayed seriously, or made a retreat? All too many would shrug, or scratch their heads. You might as well be talking a foreign language. They neglect their souls.

Of course it’s good to provide for our families, and it’s important to take care of our bodies, they’re temples of the Holy Spirit, after all. But this gospel goes right to the heart of things and makes us face what we would like not to face: Who are we? What means so much to us that we’ll die for it? Who or what is larger than ourselves? What must we let go of, in order to grow? For whose sake will we give our lives and thus save them? Or will we desperately cling to the lives we want so much, only to wind up losing them?
You and I are rich, my friends. We have been endowed by God with the most priceless of all possessions, life itself. God made us in God’s own image, and that is our real life, the indefinable something that makes us who and what we are. And any one life is worth more than all of the money in the world. But life is not for keeping. We’re grains of wheat. Life is for giving away.

It’s easy to demonstrate how true this is. Keep all of your friendliness to yourself, never share it with another human being, and you will eventually find yourself with no friends at all, none. But give your friendliness away, be generous with your words of encouragement and deeds of kindness, and you will find yourself with more friends than you ever dreamed possible. The same is true with faith; with hope, with love -- and especially with our very life, life itself. Cling to it, keep it for our self, and our life will dwindle and die. But offered to God and given for others, it will multiply until only eternity can contain its abundance.

Life is not for keeping. We’re grains of wheat. Life is for giving away.

It’s decision time. That’s what this gospel is about, and why this passage found its way into our tradition. It’s a good meditation for the rest of Lent.

Blessings -- and may the rest of your Lent be filled with the experience of the Lord.