Lent V - Lynn Campbell

“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.”
In the name of the one God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

It makes perfect sense, from a biological point of view. Think of a seed with its hard outer shell. We know that the potential for life lies dormant within it. We know that for life to burst forth from the seed, we must plant the seed in the ground and allow it to be nurtured. The scientists, gardeners and those of you who took biology more recently than I, could, I’m sure, explain how a seed becomes a plant. But from what I remember, as the seed gets the nutrients it needs, the plant within the seed begins to grow, and soon it breaks through the shell. The seed that was planted no longer exists as it once did. It had to die in order to become something new. After the beautiful weather we had last week we are able to see reminders of this death and new life all around us in the flowers that are blooming in our yards. The colorful flowers and plants are not possible unless a seed as been transformed into something new. “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.”

It makes perfect sense. Of course the seed must die before new life can emerge. But what happens when we take this metaphor given to us by Jesus and apply it to his life and then to our life as well? That’s when I start to get a little uncomfortable. Perhaps you have a similar reaction. But, I think this is the challenge our readings present to us this morning. Deep into the season of Lent, with Holy Week only a week away, we are invited to consider how dying can lead to new life. We are invited to walk with Jesus as he prepares to suffer and die on the cross– and then in the Easter mystery, rise to new life. And as Lent begins its crescendo towards Holy Week, we are invited to consider what needs to die within us so that new life can emerge.

Let’s look at this morning’s reading from Jeremiah. I think it can help us understand and respond to the challenge before us. The prophet Jeremiah is writing during a time of great turmoil and destruction. The people of Judah have seen their temple in Jerusalem destroyed by the Babylonians and their leaders dragged off in chains. They have lost their power, security, prestige, and freedom. Jeremiah tried to warn them this was coming if they did not change their ways. He called them to turn away from their corruption and their worship of idols but they did not listen. Despite the fact that they did not listen, despite the fact that they turned away from God, despite their break in the covenant relationship established between God and the people on Mt. Sinai; neither Jeremiah nor God leaves them to suffer alone.

Instead, Jeremiah speaks a word of comfort and hope from God. The Lord promises to make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. The Lord says, “I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and I they shall be my people.” Here is some good news that was unexpected. God brings hope to what seems to be a hopeless situation. God promises to bring life out of death. God will make a way forward where there seems to be no way.

God’s law moves from being something external, written on tablets, to one that is written on the heart of each and every person. For us, as we approach the altar with contrite hearts, we remember that the law is held collectively: our One God makes us One people with One law: to love the LORD our God, with all of our heart, with all of our soul, and with all of our strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. Yet, we sometimes prefer our own laws, which separates us from God and from one another.

If the law of God is written deep within each of us, what keeps us from living as God calls us to live? What keeps us from living into the truth God speaks to the people through Jeremiah and speaks to us today: “I will be their God, and they shall be my people.” ? I think, in part, it is hard shell that can grow around our hearts. Perhaps this shell comes from ways we have been hurt or the ways we have hurt another. Maybe it is from the sin that we know all too well to be a part of our lives. And by sin I don’t necessarily mean particular actions. Rather, I mean, anything that causes a break in our relationship with God- actions or patters of behavior or thought that keep us from living as a unified people who belong to God. Maybe it is those things we cling to, when what we need to do is release them.

Lent provides the invitation to look into our hearts and to clear away whatever is keeping us from living transformed lives, living in a way that witnesses to God’s love. We are asked to die to an old way of life, ways that bring death rather than true life. We are challenged to die to those things that are not of God: Die to the temptation to put our own needs before the needs of others. Die to unhealthy attachments to power, prestige or pride. Die to the fears that consume us and keep us from becoming the person our heart, our God, is calling us to be. These parts of us must die before new life can be born, before our lives can be transformed, before we can know the power Jesus’ Resurrection. “…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.”

The seed must break the hard shell that has protected it before the flower can bloom. How do we break through the hard shell that keeps us from new and transformed lives? I think one way is to let your hearts be broken by the pain in the world. The Jesuit Volunteer Corps- the one year service program I was a part of after college- had the motto “Let your heart be broken.” I have to admit that we mocked the cheesiness of the motto. Looking back on it, I think we made fun of it because its truth scared us. Having your heart broken is scary business.

As you know, I was in Haiti for the first week of Lent. My heart was broken open by the poverty I saw and the painful stories I heard. How could I not cry with the woman who lost everything in the earthquake, who husband recently died, and whose 4 kids are not in school because she can’t afford it? Her hopelessness and despair broke my heart. All I could offer was a hand to hold, a prayer, and holy oil placed in the form of a cross on her forehead. But in that holy moment, I knew God. In the vulnerability and in the brokenness, God’s light shined through. I felt connected to this woman whose language I could not speak and whose life I really could never understand.

Sometimes it takes these experiences to crack open our hearts, so that relationships can be built and God’s love and compassion can break forth into our lives and into the world. How they grow and how they are built is known only by God, because it is God who tills and waters and weeds and prunes. But God will only do that if we allow it. And the first gift that God asks of us is to allow that hard shell around our hearts to be cracked open. Only then is a new and transformed life possible.

“…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.”