Fifth Sunday in Lent Year B
Mary Holmen

John 12:22-30

Jesus said, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified…and I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” (John 12:23, 32)

If you read straight through the gospel of John as a narrative – and I encourage you to do that sometime – you’ll find a number of themes that keep recurring. Several of them show up in our gospel reading today. In fact, chapter 12 is a hinge between Jesus’ public ministry and his last night with his disciples. It looks back to that ministry and what it has meant, and ahead to the Last Supper, the foot washing, and Jesus’ final discourse, when he tells the disciples as much as they can bear. This episode today is Jesus’ last public appearance before his trial and crucifixion. And as we read it, we also turn toward the final days of Jesus’ life, the events that lead to his death. Liturgically, we turn toward the observance of Holy Week that leads us to the cross and then to the resurrection.

So, let’s take a look at some of these themes.

Several times in John’s gospel, we read that Jesus’ “hour” has not yet come. He says it to his mother at the wedding in Cana, where he changes water into wine. Jesus’ opponents wish they could lay hands on him and arrest him, but they can’t because his hour has not yet come. The time is not right – and by this John mean God’s time, not the authorities’ time. This “hour” refers to Jesus’ crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension – to his glorification.

Now, says Jesus, “the hour has come”. What brings this about? After Jesus raises Lazarus from death, the priests and Pharisees worry, “If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him.” (John 11:48). When Jesus enters Jerusalem and the crowd goes out to meet him, the Pharisees say to each other, “You see, you can do nothing. Look, the world has gone after him!” (John 12:19). As if on cue, some Greeks, i.e. non-Jews, show up wishing to see Jesus. The hour has come. The time is right. The whole world is here, in the presence of these Greeks. Jesus, lifted up, draws all people to himself. “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness,” as Jesus said in last week’s gospel reading, “so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” (John 3:14-15).

The Greeks ask to see Jesus. In John’s gospel, seeing and hearing are the ways people come to know Jesus and to believe or trust in him. The theme of seeing echoes throughout the gospel. An exploration of this theme is the subject of another sermon. For today, suffice it to say that there are repeated invitations throughout the gospel, “Come and see.” (Spoiler alert – the story reaches its climax with Jesus saying to Mary Magdalene, “Go and tell.”) Gentiles and Jews alike want to see Jesus, and by implication, believe in him.

We don’t learn if those Greeks actually get to see Jesus. After Andrew and Philip take their request to Jesus, he speaks only of his coming death. He prays that God will glorify God’s name. The voice from heaven says that God has glorified it and will glorify it again. That glory will be revealed when Jesus is lifted up in crucifixion, lifted up from death in resurrection, lifted up from the earth in ascension. The sight of Jesus lifted up on the cross is judgment, not on Jesus, but on the world and the powers that rule it. And those powers are going to be driven out. Christ’s crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension are a victory over the forces that defy the will of the Triune God. This is not just about our individual salvation. It is about transforming the world. And God’s glory will be revealed further in the descent of the Holy Spirit. God’s action in the world is not “one and done”. It is ongoing. It has already happened, and it is still happening. God is not finished with this world or with us, and that is what enables us to keep on living as disciples.

Jesus uses the image of a grain of wheat. If it is to bear fruit, the grain must fall into the ground. It must die and be buried. Only if this happens will the single grain be transformed into an abundant harvest. Jesus will also die and be buried, and transformed in resurrection. The path of discipleship is costly. It is not to be undertaken casually or thoughtlessly. Jesus himself said that he would lay down his life for his sheep. The paradox of surrendering your life is that you get it back again. “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate (that is, renounce) their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” A disciple is one who follows. To follow Jesus is to do the works he did, to feed and tend the sheep and to testify to him. The disciples will go on to do even greater works than Jesus, because he is returning to the Father (John 14:12). “Whoever serves me must follow me,” even to the point of losing life. But then comes the promise, “Where I am, there will my servant be also,” – in death and in life. “Whoever serves me, the Father will honour.” The glory that Jesus and the Father share will also be the glory of the disciples.

This week’s reading, then, calls us to do two things. First, to gaze on Jesus, lifted on the cross, with eyes not of fear but of love. It’s an old-fashioned hymn, but the refrain says it well:
“Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in his wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of his glory and grace.”

And secondly, this week’s gospel calls us to be grains of wheat that bear much fruit. When I worked in spiritual care as a hospital chaplain, I often said that I planted seeds. I didn’t always see “results”, and that was OK. I just needed to trust that God would nurture what I tried to plant. I was reading the other day about the German couple who founded the scientific company BioNtech. They have been working with the science of messenger RNA for the past twenty years. Their plan was, and is, to develop vaccines for cancer, which is astonishing to me. But when the coronavirus pandemic was declared, they pivoted to develop a vaccine for COVID-19 in partnership with the pharmaceutical company Pfizer. All those seeds planted and tended patiently over all those years, and look at the fruit they have borne.

But we don’t need to be highly specialized scientists to plant seeds. When I think about the ministries that are carried out in and through St. Peter’s, I think of grains of wheat, of seeds being planted. Those who lovingly create prayer shawls that are taken to assure the recipients that they are held in the embrace of their parish family. The meals that are cooked and delivered to those who need that support or just a caring gesture. Lynda Wolf talked about the work of Parish Caring Ministries last week, and there is a lot more besides that goes on under the radar in the form of phone calls, emails, and cards. The pastoral care done by our rector Donna, which many parishioners may not even be aware of unless they happen to be the beneficiary – her nurturing of new members, her care in preparing people for baptism or marriage, her calls and email in times of illness or crisis, her presence at death and funerals. I think of the work of Outreach Ministries, collecting socks, food, and baby clothes. Those who carefully lead our children to the knowledge and love of God in the Atrium. I could go on, and I know I’m omitting many other vital ministries, some more of which we’ll hear about at the conclusion of this service. All seeds being planted, grains of wheat falling into the ground with the hope of a rich harvest.

Because we approach these with the lens of faith, these are not simply acts of kindness – although they are that. All these ministries are indications of the gifts of time, skill, and energy, of care for others, of self-giving sacrifice. That is what enables us, not just to plant those grains of wheat but to be grains of wheat. To let go of life as the world defines it so that we may receive the abundant life that God wants all people to have. To give selflessly, unstintingly, freely. Love is not an easy path. But, as Bishop Michael Curry, the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church says, it’s the only path that matters, that makes a difference. This story is not done yet. We may not yet have reached this maturity, but it is the goal to which we have been called. This week, as we turn our gaze toward the cross, may we be strengthened in our pilgrimage and come to the joy of the resurrection together. Amen.