Showing posts with label dies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dies. Show all posts

Wednesday, 12 April 2017

Bearing Fruit




John 12:20-36
 
John the Gospel writer annoys me and the more I read him the more he does. He always has to explain the very thing he just wrote as if those reading it are too thick to get his meaning. And when I am feeling like this I get to thinking he may be right.
 
We are too thick to get what he is writing.
 
The Fathers of the church and scholars through the ages have taken much of what has been written and interpreted it in such a way that the life of Jesus is seen primarily as God’s response to original sin. Apparently we are all inherently bad and need a sacrificial lamb without spot to cast our sins upon for redemption. 
 
“Very 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”
 
This is how this verse is often interpreted. Jesus dies so we can live. But we add bits that aren’t there. We add sin and the need for an angry God to be propitiated for our humanity. We add the ghastly event of Good Friday to this, not as a testimony to the commitment of Jesus as the fully conscious human being who stays with the demands of the Kingdom of God right until the end, but as a bloody sacrifice for sin.
 
John, perhaps, captures the natural process of evolution and reminds us that when something individual dies it is reborn somewhere within the species, it leaves behind something to empower, embolden and to add to others. This is the process God chose for creation and it is the process John refers to here.
 
Jesus is just like the significantly insignificant grain of wheat, on its own it contains the essence of daily living, but when it dies it gives birth to much more than it could ever achieve individually. The death of Jesus, as the fully alive sentient being, the culmination of all evolutionary creation to this point is the catalyst for change, for another way of being in the world and for wholeness.
 
This is what is born in the idea of much fruit. Jesus is not specific about what the fruit looks like – is it spiritual, is it social justice, is it found in mystics, activists, lay people or monks, is it found in one strain of religious thought and practice, is it confined to one particular set of dogma, orthodoxy or practice over against another? Jesus simply says it will bear much fruit and just like the grain of wheat cannot give fruit from a pineapple, the essence of the one who dies will be the signifying essence of the fruit. In other words it will be found in the form of other fully alive sentient beings who live for wholeness, justice and respect at the gentle and not so gentle prodding of eternal love.
 

Like gives birth to like . Not like in particular but like in essence and Jesus is bearing fruit throughout this world in all lives in tune with urge for wholeness embedded within all creation by the Source of all love.

Wednesday, 21 December 2016

O Little Town of Aleppo


(Thoughts on the Sunday before Christmas given at Lessons and Carols Service, 2016)

Tonight we sing carols and read of the much awaited anointed who is to bring peace and goodwill to all. Tonight we begin to dream of Christmas Day and the romanticised meaning story that goes with it. Tonight we think of presents, visits from family members, roast pork and crackling and Christmas pudding. Tonight it is so easy to drift away from the story as is told.

Two scared and lonely young middle eastern people fulfilling the need to be counted by a tyrannical government and expecting their first child. They find themselves in unfamiliar territory, nowhere to stay and a baby due any moment.

They take whatever refuge they are offered and find themselves sharing a space with animals and their food troughs. The event is so traumatic and decisive they and those nearby experience events beyond imagining they can only describe as a choir of angels, darkness snapping light and a sound so dramatic it shakes them up so much shepherds, outcasts, make their way in to see what this is all about.
It was no sweet and delightful event. It was terrifying and it remained so after the birth resulting in, some time later, an exodus to Egypt to escape the wrath of Herod.

Sound familiar? Is it an ancient story? No. It is the story of refugees and boat people, people escaping war torn countries and the oppression of powerful countries. It is a story that is ever new and everyday. It is a story we have been spared and perhaps that is why we romanticise the images at Christmas the way we romanticise poverty and meaningless work.

Our challenge this Christmas is to embrace the truth at the centre of this story – the brutality of humanity to its own – and to commit ourselves to work for peace and goodwill for all. What happened in the little town of Bethlehem reverberates through our world and we do it a disservice if we remain stuck in a Hallmark card representation.

As we begin this week let us think of another middle eastern city and stand with the child yet to be born.
 
O, LITTLE TOWN OF ALEPPO
How scared we see thee lie,
Above thy ancient, ruined streets
Unholy stars collide.
Yet in some backstreet shelter
A newborn infant cries,
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in Thee tonight

For Christ is born of Mary
And Herod smells the blood
Still Rachel weeps, but angels keep
Their bitter watch of love
O morning stars together
Proclaim the holy birth,
Let weeping cease, and foolish peace
Be born again in us.

How silently, how violently
The wondrous gift is slain
A mother cries and though he dies
Her son shall rise again.
Perceive his broken body
Conceive his future form
And as you grieve, yet still believe
The birth of Isa dawns.
(Peter Greig)