There's Light at the End of the Tunnel (John 12.20-33)

 

I was speaking to my neighbour the other day, at an appropriate social distance of course, and we got into an unusually long conversation about our lockdown experiences.

She spoke of hope, dreams, disappointments ups and downs, and one particular well known phrase kept cropping up;

“There’s light at the end of the tunnel.”

She reflected perhaps the way many of us might be feeling. Weary but slightly hopeful that things are going to change relatively soon. That hopefully we’re over the worst of it. That soon she would be able to see her grandchildren again.

I was speaking to Paul the other day and he asked ‘How are you?’ I responded, ‘Oh you know, not too bad.’ Paul then asked ‘why do people always say oh you know. I don’t know that’s why I’m asking.’

He has a good point. We don’t know. We don’t know how other people are feeling, or what’s going on.

Today our Gospel reading shows Jesus doing a similar thing. What do I mean? Well, the people gathered there don’t know what’s going to happen. They don’t know about the events of Holy Week, they don’t know what Jesus knows. How he’s feeling and thinking and Jesus starts to reveal to them what he knows.

‘Now my soul is troubled’ is a polite translation.

Jesus is a human person, with thoughts and feelings like the rest of us. He must’ve been in private agony. He Knew what was going to happen to him. But refused to turn.

Going ahead with it despite knowing that he was going to die. And not just a quick death, but a slow, tortured and humiliating death on a cross.

It’s right that on this, the last Sunday before Holy Week, that we have this reading because it points us towards the cross. For Jesus that means pain, suffering, accepting the bitter cup that he must take in order to save us.

The Greeks who come to see Jesus are probably Godfearers. Gentiles who were respectful of the Jewish religion and abided by many of the Jewish customs and laws.

Jesus tells them about the grain of wheat. On the face of it this just seems like quite a confusing story. Why we might ask, is Jesus telling them this?

It’s two fold. Firstly Jesus is talking about the rich future harvest that will come. The harvest of many different people. That Christians will not be left alone when he dies, that the labourers will all be united together in the harvest, whether they are Jew or gentile.

Secondly it’s to tell them that though his death, he will be glorified and it’s through the cross that they will all receive new life.

Jesus points the disciples and the rest of the people there towards what will happen. That’s the point of the voice from heaven.  Ultimately through Jesus’ sacrifice, through the cross he will be glorified.

Though the world might not understand, though it might seem weak, though people might make fun of us, or misunderstand, it is the ultimate sign of strength.

That our God doesn’t use violence, or force to achieve His aims, but through self-sacrificial love redeems the whole world.

The self-sacrificial love of God is the only thing of God that we can emulate. We can’t heal people in the way Jesus did, we can’t move mountains and seas. We can’t save ourselves.

We can sacrifice something of ourselves through love, we can love other people. We can do good things for the sake of others.

For the writer of John, serving Jesus is as important as believing in Jesus’ promises. When Jesus says “Those who love their life lose it and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”

I think Jesus is talking about service. That when we choose to serve God we sacrifice something of our own lives, we must, otherwise it’s not really service.

These verses show us that Jesus’ death brings new life to all of us. Through the cross, through the resurrection and through love.

In a time when all we seem to do is sacrifice what we want for the sake of others, It’s worth remembering that when we do these acts, we are truly living out the Gospel in the world.

Sometimes, like the crowd, we lose sight of God. We can’t hear God’s voice, all we can hear is the thunder of our own emotions. The thunder of loss, disappointments and ups and downs.

Sometimes, it might feel like that thunder is overwhelming, that God has gone away from us for a while. Like a former fruitful relationship that used to be intimate, but now we’re in separate bedrooms. No longer talking.

There is light at the end of the tunnel. Be assured. Jesus said

“Now is the judgement of this world; now the rule of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth will draw all people to myself.”

The light is that. That Jesus draws all people to himself.

That everything we are or ever will be is understood by God.

That God drives out the darkness, even though things feel dark for us now.

That we’ve all got a place. Greeks and Jews.

As long as there are those who love each other. Those who are willing to go for other people. God is there with them.

Because the light of the world can’t be extinguished. Not by our feelings, or by pandemic.

The Disciples waited before they saw the resurrected Jesus. It was scary, a time when hope was short, and it seemed all that they loved was snuffed out.

But Jesus came. Hope was rekindled. God didn’t abandon them.

So it will be for us. The thunder doesn’t last forever. There is light at the end of the tunnel.

Photo by Elisabeth Fossum from Pexels 

Preached at Zoom Service for St John the Baptist and St Paul's, Old Lakenham and Tuckswood.