Sermon, April 6, 2003
5 Lent, Year B
The Rev. Lowell E. Grisham
St. Paul's Episcopal Church
Fayetteville, Arkansas

Gospel -- John 12:20-33 The time for Jesus' glorification 

I ran across a couple of quotes I want to begin with this week. Here's the first: "the only real hope for creation is for each of us human beings to attend to the yearnings of our hearts so that we can move forward in love instead of retreating or lashing out in fear." (Gerald May, The Awakened Heart, p. 236

Here's the other. It's from the Cloud of Unknowing, a 14^th century spiritual work: "One loving blind desire for God alone is more valuable in itself, more pleasing to God and to the saints, more beneficial to your own growth, and more helpful to your friends, both living and dead, than anything else you could do."

The deepest yearning of our hearts is our blind desire for God. That's where our heart already rests. At the center of our being, where we are already one with God, the heart only does two things -- desires and loves. Our best actions come from that space.

Think of the most loving acts that have been done for you? Where did they come from? Weren't they unpredictable? Weren't they surprising? The heart's wisdom is unpredictable.

I quote Gerald May a lot. He tells about living next door to a grouchy old man. When his kids got big enough to play in the backyard, the man put up a chain link fence. He threatened to kill their son Paul's kitten after it strayed into his rosebushes. "I see that cat on my land again, I'll poison it." Paul, who was four at the time, became obsessed with keeping the kitten inside. He had nightmares. A few days later the kitten was dead. They saw it die, and they were sure it had been poisoned.

While the rest of the family was grieving and making up fantasies about what they could do for revenge, Paul grew very quiet. Finally he had something to say about their neighbor. "He must be very lonely. Maybe we should give him a birthday party or something." (Ibid, p. 234-5)

There's an unpredictable response. Heart wisdom. You don't know beforehand what will bring peace and justice. But then when you hear or see a truly loving response, your heart says, "Ah, yes. That's right." At least that's what the May family felt after the initial shock of Paul's word's. But beforehand, there is no way of telling what to do. Most of us simply don't have the patience and presence to wait for the heart's answer. We run off half-cocked to take care of things. "We get ourselves into standoffs with our enemies and entanglements with our friends. We leap to rely on principles and policies instead of discernment. We react out of reflex and habit instead of responding from prayer, out of fear instead of love." (Ibid, p. 235)

"Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say...?" It's a strange moment in Jesus' life. Some outsiders have come, and they approach the only disciples who have Greek names. "We want to see Jesus," they tell Philip and Andrew. Good. Jesus is finally getting some attention. Maybe now he can begin to promote his Gospel message beyond the narrow confines of Israel.

But at the same moment, there's a deeper current moving toward Jesus; a foreboding anticipation of threat. Into his mind comes the familiar image of farming -- a seed is buried and it brings forth grain. For him it's an image of death. His soul is troubled. He pauses. Should I ask to be rescued? Save me from this hour?

Something happens. His heart speaks to him and suddenly he knows. In a thunderous moment his heart has told him its secret surprise. He knows what he is to do. He's going to be a seed. And he sets his face toward death.

"The only real hope for creation is for each of us human beings to attend to the yearnings of our hearts so that we can move forward in love instead of retreating or lashing out in fear."

Gerald May says that "most of our heartlessness...comes from fear. We are afraid of not meeting others' expectations. We are afraid of the agony, the uncertainty, and the terrifying space that come from refusing to act out an addiction. And, when we face right into it, we are afraid of what love is likely to call for. It might involve something beyond our control. It might mean getting hurt." (Ibid, 236)

It's hard to wait, to enter that space between pain and doing something in response. We tend to jump into doing something to minimize our agony, to shorten our confusion. But heart wisdom invites us to "stay present with the unanesthetized pain of the person or situation." Unknowing in a situation that screams for action. And admit, we really don't know what to do, turning our consciousness toward the source of love. (Our heart is already looking in that direction anyway.) And be open, waiting, for the unpredictable direction that comes only from desire and love.

The only real hope for creation is for each of us human beings to attend to the yearnings of our hearts so that we can move forward in love instead of retreating or lashing out in fear.

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