sermonboy.com

Fifth Sunday in Lent

John 12
20 Now there were some Greeks among those who went up to worship at the festival. 21 They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, with a request. “Sir,” they said, “we would like to see Jesus.” 22 Philip went to tell Andrew; Andrew and Philip in turn told Jesus.
23 Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24 Very truly I tell you, 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. 25 Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26 Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me.


The pews at Cliffcrest in Scarborough were that light oak colour favoured in the 1950’s. A very large and very simple cross dominated the chancel. The communion table was likely too large for the space, and noteworthy for its utter simplicity. And the pulpit, with its concave shape and equally oversized dimensions, spoke to the style and confidence of the era. Think Mad Men minus the Lucky Strikes and a tumbler of rye.

The most amazing feature of the pulpit, and completely hidden from view, was a secret massage meant for the eyes of the preacher alone. There, along the inner edge of the wide pulpit was a carefully painted quote from John 12: “Sir, we would see Jesus.”

No pressure, huh? The lettering was the same as the lettering that appeared on the face of the communion table, printed with the familiar Eucharistic words “Do this in remembrance of me.” Oriented to the congregation, these words were a reminder to the gathered community that the Lord’s Supper belongs to Jesus, head of the church. But the pulpit message was a private one, colleague to colleague, preacher to preacher, that there was a sacred trust involved in standing in that spot, never to be taken lightly.

The setting of the quote is a visit from some Greeks, who have followed Jesus and seek an audience. They find Philip, utter their famous request (“Sir, we would see Jesus”) and John decides to indulge in a little detail that leaves the reader puzzled. Philip went to tell Andrew; Andrew and Philip in turn told Jesus, and Jesus’ response seems to have absolutely nothing to do with visiting Greeks and a desire to talk. “The hour has come,” Jesus said, “for the Son of Man to be glorified. Truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed.”

And just as you think these poor Greeks were left out in the cold, the setting shifts again, and what seems a private conversation between Jesus, Philip and Andrew is really for the crowd, as Jesus explains his coming passion and the need to walk in the light of God.

You might say the Greeks are too late. John’s Gospel, really just and extended passion story with a few signs thrown in for good measure, has already begun its ascent into Jerusalem. The time for conversation is nearly over, the last teachings are being shared, and the only new participants that will enter the story have a direct connection to the trial and its aftermath.

You might say the Greeks are unneeded. John’s Gospel already has two of the most extended conversations in scripture: He explains to Nicodemus the meaning of being born again, and he challenges the Samaritan woman to drink his living water. He has healed the sick, turned water into wine, and accepted anointing. Maybe another encounter just wouldn’t add to the narrative.

You might say the Greeks are out of place. As early as next week Jesus will enter the Holy City and be proclaimed the King of the Jews. He will come to fulfil the ancient prophecy of Zechariah, the prophecy that defines the means and the message of this triumphant entry:

9 Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!
Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!
See, your king comes to you,
righteous and victorious,
lowly and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

Do Daughter Zion and Daughter Jerusalem have any needs of Greeks? Should Greeks be involved in an internal matter in the life of God’s chosen people? The answer, it would seem, is no. A Messiah is needed, come to save Israel, come to bring victory from the jaws of defeat, come to restore this nation so recently diminished by Rome, and before that Persia, and before that Assyria, and so on back through time. The need remained constant, and the answer had come, and no Greeks need apply.

So why do they appear? What can this little passage mean? And who are the Greeks anyway?

Greeks, it seems, represent wisdom. From the wise owl appearing on ancient coins, to the naming of their first city for Athena, goddess of wisdom, to their invention and adherence to philosophy, literally philo-sophia, love of wisdom. Socrates and his student Plato promote the philosopher-king, ruling through wisdom, down to Plato’s student Aristotle, who offers the essential definition of wisdom: understanding why things are the way they are, not simply how or what they are.

So if Greeks represent wisdom, and Jesus has no time to converse, what possible meaning can we glean from this? Surely Jesus is not repudiating wisdom, when he himself is the source of such wise words? Yes, you might argue, his wisdom comes from an otherworldly source, and ought not to be confused with the wisdom of Greeks, the wisdom of the world. That argument, of course, only holds up if you ignore the fact the Greek wisdom is foundational to the birth of the Christian church, through St. Paul, and also comes through much of the Old Testament, largely marinated in Greek thought.

The answer to this question, Jesus seeming refusal to enter into conversation with these Greeks, might come further along in the Bible, in words written by St. Paul, but actually composed before John’s Gospel and this famous non-encounter with Greeks. St. Paul has a lot to say about wisdom, maybe best expressed in 1 Corinthian 1:

20 Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?
22 Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, 23 but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, 24 but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ [is] the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.

The Greeks were too early, the Greeks came before the unfolding of God’s wisdom could begin. “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed.” This is the wisdom of God, the wisdom that would have seemed foolish to this second set of wise men seeking Jesus. They wanted to know why the world worked as it did, not the how or the what. But the why was yet to be answered, the why that said a grain must die entombed in the earth to break free of the soil in newness of life.

No one would understand this wisdom from God: not his disciples, not the crowd, not the Roman occupiers and certainly not the religious elite with so much to lose. No, the wisdom of God was yet to be revealed, is yet to be revealed, as much then as now. We need to enter the Holy City, and join with the impatient crowd and shout for his end and claim we don’t know him and watch him die on a tree and only then, maybe then, will the wisdom of God become clear.

posted by michael jacob kooiman @ 9:21 AM