Flowering--from the ground up

Path of Reflection through Scripture
Fifth Week of Lent

Gospel for Sunday, March 25, 2012: John 12:20-33
Read it here

Spring always arrives early here in southern Indiana—or so it seems to someone who, before coming to the monastery, spent 40-plus years living primarily in northern Ohio. In that region, winter usually lingers long past its welcome. This year, however, spring is particularly early here at Saint Meinrad Archabbey. An unusually mild and warm winter broke into spring weeks ago. Nearly everything is in full bloom, the daytime temperatures are in the 70s and 80s already, and the grass is green (and has already been mowed several times). Colorful blossoms are everywhere, offering varying hues of hope for the once-dreary landscape and the often weary soul. Hope indeed springs eternal.

What does this hope, this blossoming, spring from? Seemingly, it arises from lifelessness, which is why the season gives us an extra spring in our step. Everything is new and promising again. What was dead (or seemed so) has come back to life. A tiny seed planted long ago in the dark, cold earth has decayed, fallen apart—to reveal a green sprout, then a stalk, and eventually branches, blossoms, and fruit held high above the ground. Whether it’s early or late, it happens every year.

The very tangible effects of this mystery beckon us to recall an even greater one—the flowering of eternal salvation for all of humanity from what was dead (or seemed so). In today’s Gospel, Jesus uses very tangible terms and familiar images to draw us into this mystery: “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me.”

With these words, of course, he is indicating his approaching death and resurrection, by which he gives all baptized Christians life. However, he is doing much more than that. He is calling us to follow him in the same manner. He is not telling us to loathe our existence and abhor the world in which we live. Rather, he calls us to give new life to the world by dying to ourselves—to our prejudices and preconceived notions, our selfishness, pride, greed, lust, anger, desire to control and consume. For instance, am I holding a grudge against someone? Jesus calls me to sink it into the ground, bury it like a seed, pray for the heavenly dew of mercy, fertilize it by extending forgiveness, and prune myself for reconciliation. Sooner or later, the Light of the Resurrected Christ will bring what was dead back to life, raise up a shoot, an olive branch of peace which bears fruit for many.

Through the death of one tiny such seed, life springs forth. Eternal salvation buds from what had seemed dark, hopeless, and lost.

Like all growing seasons, this is a gradual process requiring many laborers in the field. At the beginning of today’s Gospel, some Greeks (foreigners, not Jews, not the “chosen ones”) approach the Apostle Philip (who speaks their language) and say, “We would like to see Jesus.” In other words: “We, too, want to believe. Show us how.” Philip tells Andrew, and both tell Jesus. The Greeks—like all believers—needed help in coming to the Light, and it didn’t happen all at once.

Viewed from this perspective, Jesus’ “grain of wheat” analogy takes on universal significance.  “It was for the purpose that I came to this hour,” Jesus says—the hour of his passion, death, resurrection, and ascension into heaven. “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself.”

Everyone means everyone. But each one must allow himself or herself to be drawn—to accept the seed of faith, plant it in our hearts, cultivate and care for it in our everyday lives. Then, in due season, we can watch it grow and breathe deeply of the fragrance of its blossoms.