Sermon: Seeds

Yesterday’s sermon:

Seeds.
John 12:19-33

Welcome to church, seeds.  Will you be just one seed or will you produce many seeds?

Hear the audio here.
Text:

 

Jim Morrow

St. Marys United Methodist Church

St. Marys, Georgia

March 29, 2009

Seeds

John 12:19-33

They say that confession is good for the soul.  Since Rev. Mosley is away today…I agree.

Five weeks ago, I did something that I must confess to you.  I did something that will make many of you gasp, and others of you will be sure that you never do what I am about to share with you:

A little over five weeks ago:  I visited another church…on a Wednesday afternoon!  Scandalous, no? 

If you’ve been doing the math, you may have figured out that I am talking about Ash Wednesday.  That’s right.  At noon on Ash Wednesday, I went to worship with the congregation of Christ Episcopal Church just a few blocks down the road.  I did this for 2 reasons:  1.)  Lent is my favorite season of the church year and I wanted to begin my Lenten experience before I helped lead our own Ash Wednesday service here with First Presbyterian Church; 2.)  I had to write a paper for seminary on a worship service other than our own and it was a great opportunity to visit without missing being with you all on a Sunday morning.  Now, Father Casto, the priest there, would venture to guess that there was a third reason a good, temperate Methodist was visiting an Episcopal church:  the flavor of communion, but I assure you that is not the case!

Many people had gathered for the imposition of ashes on their foreheads (just as we do here in our service).  Particularly there was a mother with a little girl who seemed to be as upset as some of you are about being in church and an elderly lady in a wheel chair—based on my conversations with others, I think she was in her 90′s.  The time came in the service for us to go to the altar so that the priest could impose ashes on our foreheads saying, “from dust you were made, from dust you shall return.”  The mother with the crying child was having a lot of trouble and was getting embarrassed—a kind woman in the congregation offered to hold her while the mother went up front.  The elderly woman in the wheelchair had a friend push her to the side so that she wouldn’t be in the way.  “From dust you were made, from dust you shall return.”  You’d figure after hearing that phrase so much, I would have given some thought to it but all I was worried about was the fact that out of the top of my line of vision, I could see a big chunk of ashes getting ready to fall on my shirt!  Until a strange thing happened:  that mother, who had received the ashes minutes ago was walking back up to the priest—with her baby girl.  The priest placed his finger in the ashes and then upon the little girl’s forehead:  “from dust you were made, from dust you shall return.”  He then turned to the 90 year old woman in the wheel chair, leaned over, placed the ashes on her forehead:  “from dust you were made, to dust you shall return.” 

That stark reminder was over 5 weeks ago and that symbol of our mortality has since washed off.  Now many people are fasting from something as a spiritual discipline: giving up something in order to reinforce their dependence on God.  Not everybody finds this valuable, and not everyone is doing this, so if you are not, don’t feel bad at all! 

Last weekend, I took our confirmands to on a Confirmation retreat.  One of our confirmands had an epiphany while we were there:  the 40 days of Lent do not include Sundays!  No sooner did the speaker for that session say that, than this young man turned and looked at me and said: “Oh man, I could have had that 4 times!  I’m having some tomorrow!”  It’s fun to have these little moments!  Its fun to hear what people decide to give up for Lent and how they’re doing!

(look at Bible)  But I think things just got serious again.  I blame Jesus.  We were walking with Jesus into Jerusalem and looking forward to that day when we can have soda and Facebook again, Easter Sunday, and we may have forgotten that Jesus was walking first towards his death. 

Things just got serious in an alarming way.  It’s like when your teenager comes home and jokes, “hey isn’t dinner ready yet,” and you’ve been working all day.  Serious.  It’s like when you are lifting something heavy and you ask a friend to give you a hand and they start clapping.  Suddenly…serious.

In our Gospel reading, something very exciting is happening—even the Pharisees are noticing.  The world is being drawn towards Jesus.  This is evident at the beginning of our passage as we read that there were some Greeks who came to Phillip saying:  “Sir, we would like to see Jesus.”  This might not seem like a big deal, but it is.  The feast that causing the population of Jerusalem to overflow was the Passover—a Jewish feast.  And the Messiah, so the Jews thought, was for the Jews.  Now Greeks are seeking him?  This is a big deal.  So big a deal, in fact, that Phillip goes to get Andrew to go with him to Jesus. 

Jesus responds to them:  “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”  Ok.  Strange response to some “church visitors,” Jesus, but we’ll go with it.  I mean, if your going to be glorified, that would be great for attendance.  You might even get the Greek’s children into youth group and having them tithing soon.  Good stuff, Jesus.

“I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed.  But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”  I imagine that Phillip and Andrew were slightly alarmed. 

“The one who loves his life will lose it, while the one who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”  Phillip and Andrew were just trying to get Jesus to meet some Greek people.  He was always saying things like “come to me,” and “I am the way the truth and the life,” and Jesus is talking about dying?  That is not a way to get them to serve on the evangelism committee, (sheepishly) um…sir…Lord…um…Jesus.

Things just got serious.

Why would such a simple request, “Sir, we would like to see Jesus,” bring such a response from our Lord? 

Will Willimon, United Methodist Bishop for North Alabama tells of a ruckus he caused at one of his early churches.  With good intentions, he suggested to an amateur wood carver in his congregation that he carve a cross for when the process into the church.  What Willimon had in mind was something simple and clean, something that would match the modern architecture of the church.  What they got on the first Sunday of Lent, however, was a dramatic, heavy cross, complete with a crucified Christ, blood and everything.  “What is a modern, well-budgeted Methodist church to do with a bloody cross these days,” Willimon asks.

There is something disturbing about death and often we would like to keep death far away from our Christ and far away from ourselves.  However, when Jesus responds to a simple request “can we see you,” He responds with by saying:  “I so desperately want to you to see me, to be in relationship with me, to be honored by God that I must die.”  There is no other way.  Jesus says that a seed must die in order to produce fruit and many more seeds.  In Jesus’ death, we find growing in the soil of our souls, a plant growing, filling us with Love, uniting us with God, because Jesus chose to die.  Jesus tells us of his death because it “when [he] is lifted up, [he] will draw all people to himself.” 

All people.  You.  No matter who you are, where you’ve come from, or what you’ve done.  Jesus died to draw you to himself and, therefore, into a deep relationship with God and with all believers. 

See?  Things just got serious.  We are all faced with a decision.  Jesus draws us all to himself; will we go?  Will we follow him?  It requires following Him through Jerusalem—the jubilation of Palm Sunday, to the cross where the we let go of life as we live it according to human standards of love and meet Easter as a new creation for eternity. 

Willimon finishes his story:

Alas, we would strip the body off the cross, embalm it and cover it with cosmetics, render the cross in bronze, polish it, make it triumphant and clean….We can understand that.

But then, down the carpeted aisle of my modern sanctuary,… a cross is brought in …. It is a crucifix, a visible believable body on a cross, the work of a layman’s hands, a layman who, despite what I have told him, sheds a tear and continues to be stupefied that God’s love should be made so explicit, continues to be drawn to the simple truth that “Jesus did it all for me.

Would you like to see Jesus?  He, like a kernel of wheat, died so that you and I could live together with God—to produce many seeds.  Would you like to see Jesus?  Would you like to know him?  I invite you accept His gift of life. 

Are you like Phillip and Andrew, the disciples who were present in the world bringing people to Jesus?  Who do you know that would like to see Jesus?  You are now a seed.  It is time.  Let go of the fear.  What is it that you need to die to?  It is different for each of us.  What prevents you from sowing yourselves into the lives of others?  Will you remain a single seed, or will you produce many seeds?

Things just got serious.  But they also became eternal, beautiful and hopeful. 

I want to pray with you.  I want to pray with you right now.  If you would see Jesus, I want to pray with you.  If you have decided that you will show others Jesus, I want to pray with you right now.  You can call me over to where you are, or you can pray with me at the altar as we sing of the beautiful cross of Jesus, #301.