Sermon for SMHP, Year B, Lent V, March 18, 2018
John 12:20-33
20Now
among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. 21They
came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we
wish to see Jesus.” 22Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and
Philip went and told Jesus. 23Jesus answered them, “The hour has
come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24Very truly, I tell you,
unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single
grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. 25Those who love their
life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for
eternal life. 26Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am,
there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.
27“Now
my soul is troubled. And what should I say—‘Father, save me from this hour’?
No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. 28Father,
glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I
will glorify it again.” 29The crowd standing there heard it and said
that it was thunder. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” 30Jesus
answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. 31Now is
the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. 32And
I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” 33He
said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.
So
the Holy Land is an interesting place to go in a season in which we’ve decided
to talk about peace. Historically, it is
the most contested piece of ground in the world, owing mainly to the fact that
it is the crossroads between so many of the world’s cultures and nations. Oh, and religions.
Roads
to the east and the west pass through Israel and Palestine, as does the only road to Africa, a bridge over the
Suez Canal.
There
is an uneasy peace in the Holy Land right now, though war is never far
away. Our guide took us down a winding
road one day…in a charter bus driven by a wonderful man named Ali who has
nerves of steel. At the end of the road
was the point at which Israel meets both Jordan and Syria. Also some Israeli soldiers, whose job it is
to keep an eye on Syria and Jordan. The
situation in Syria is dire, he said.
Tens of thousands are dying. And
it’s all happening in plain view of a world which is doing little.
And
that is an old story, isn’t it?
Throughout
history, human beings have been willing to look away from atrocities and
horrors in our midst…or just across the border.
We inhabit this very ground because it was wrested from the hands and
feet of those who lived here first. And
we aren’t unusual. Nearly every culture
sits upon ground that once belonged to someone else.
Here’s
something else true of nearly every culture on earth: its people have claimed faith in a power
higher than themselves. For most of the
world today, that’s Yahweh. 2.4 billion
people in the world claim Christianity.
Add to that 1.8 billion Muslims and 17 million Jews, and we have a world
in which nearly two thirds of the people claim to follow the God of
Abraham. And most of those also claim to
follow Jesus. Jesus. I’m just gonna leave that there.
Because…looking
around the world today…and our own beloved nation…I gotta ask…what the hell?
And
I mean hell in the cosmological sense.
In the sense in which it appears—not in words but in concept—in our
lesson for this morning.
What
the hell? How is over a third of the
world claiming faith in Jesus—you know, the guy who said “Love your enemies, do
good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who
abuse you?” And “blessed are the
peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” And we can’t seem to keep from killing each
other?
There
were things on our itinerary which I didn’t understand. Names of towns which have new names. Jaffa—the biblical Joppa from which Jonah set
sail to escape God. Capher Naum. Want to guess that one?
Then
there was something called Yad V’shed, during the part of the schedule when we
were in Jerusalem for almost a week.
Anybody know what Yad V’shed is?
It’s
the holocaust museum and memorial. Laid
out by an artist, who created a long triangular hallway, with a film playing at
the beginning with scenes from life in Jewish communities before the
holocaust. That film plays behind you as
you walk along the long triangular hallway of remembrance. It’s not that long a hallway, and there’s not
that much in it, which is puzzling at first.
But the museum isn’t in the straight ahead hall. It’s in the detours to the side. In order to get to the end, you have to cut
across, from one side to the other, mirroring the path of those who thought
they were going one place—a place where they would stay for a while before
returning to their homes and their former lives—but ended up somewhere else, a
place which can only be described as Satanic.
By
about halfway through, one experiences a longing to go back to the film scenes
of happy people, just living their lives.
Each step leads one further along the road to the hell that was
Auschwitz and Dachau and Terezin and any of the thousands of camps which held
Jews…and gay people, and disabled people, and Romani, and prisoners of all
kinds.
At
the end, there is a room, with music playing.
All the way up the long conical ceiling are the faces of people who died
in the Holocaust. One stands, craning
one’s neck and trying to understand.
There
is no understanding that horror. There
is no understanding any ideology which determines that innocent people should
be sacrificed for the sake of dogma, or territory, or profit.
Indeed,
the horror is the result of a fundamental failure to do just what we did at Yad
V’shed: look up.
As
Ruth Ellen showed us in hir most excellent sermon (http://brigids-cross. blogspot.com/2018/03/sermon- jesus-is-disappointing-snake- god.html) for last week, when Jesus was
raised up on the cross, he became the antidote for the world’s evil. Just as the Israelites in the wilderness
gazed upon a serpent on a pole to survive snakebite, gazing up at Jesus on the
cross becomes our cure, our true hope.
On
the cross, Jesus absorbed the evil of the world, in a shame not his own, but
one he bore on our behalf, in order that we might see it and know the truth,
know God’s love, know the way.
Ruth
Ellen said it best at the end of hir sermon:
Because God so loved the world that God gave God’s only
son to hang high on a cross for the world to see, and, in seeing, be saved.
We
are saved by Jesus on the cross. We know
that, right? But there is another
element, which John the evangelist makes clear in frustrating repetition from
Chapter one to Chapter Twenty-one.
We are saved by seeing Jesus. We are saved by making the request made
by some Greeks in our gospel lesson:
“Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”
They
wanted to see Jesus. Jesus the teacher, Jesus the healer. Jesus the savior of the world. They wanted to see him, because it is in seeing that we begin to understand.
It
was in seeing Jesus upon the cross that a centurion—a man who bore in his body
and in the breastplate he wore the image of empire—that centurion made the
first public confession: “truly this man
was the son of God.”
It
is in our seeing Jesus that God is glorified, and the evil of this world is
cast out. “31Now is the
judgment of this world;” Jesus tells us this day, “now the ruler of this world
will be driven out. 32And I, when I am lifted up from the earth,
will draw all people to myself.”
Who
is the “ruler of this world”? Satan
How
is he driven out of the world? When
Jesus is lifted up, and draws all people to himself.
That
didn’t happen once, two thousand years ago.
It happens every time we look up and see our Lord, taking the evil of
the world into his body on our behalf. It happens every time we actively seek to see Jesus, and to follow him.
And
we want to see Jesus, right? Do you want
to see Jesus?
Holy
week comes near. This is our time to see
Jesus and to know him. When we do that,
when we gaze upon him, the evil in this world can be driven out.
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