John 12:20-33 * April 2, 2006 * Lent 5 * Pastor Leyrer

Dear Friends in Christ,

The Gospels tell us that when Jesus walked among us nearly 2000 years ago He spent most of His time preaching and teaching. Depending upon the audience and the circumstances, the Gospels also record that Jesus dispensed heavenly wisdom and communicated saving truth in a variety of different ways.

At times He used illustrations. At other times he drew comparisons. Sometimes he spoke in parables (“an earthly story with a heavenly meaning”). And sometimes He was strikingly straightforward with His words.

This morning He employs another figure of speech. He uses a paradox. According to the dictionary a “paradox” is a seemingly contradictory statement that is nonetheless true. The term itself comes from a couple of Greek words that, taken literally, mean “contrary to thinking.” In other words, what is expressed is not what we would logically expect.

Actually, Jesus spoke this way a number of times, and we can find a number of other paradoxical teachings within the pages of Scripture. But the paradox Jesus speaks of today is not just central to our text; it is central to the entire Christian faith. And he speaks of it happening on two different levels: the spiritual and the personal. This is

THE GREAT PARADOX

1. Eternal life comes through the death of Christ

2. Fulfilled life comes through the death of self

To understand this paradox is to experience, in the words of the Apostle Paul, “the peace of God that passes all understanding.” Let’s work our way through the text…

Now there were some Greeks among those who went up to worship at the Feast. We’re in Holy Week, the final days of Jesus’ earthly ministry. The Feast referred to here is the Passover, the yearly commemoration of how God delivered His Old Testament people from their slavery in Egypt. For Jesus this would be the Last Supper and the occasion on which He instituted the sacrament of Holy Communion.

Among those who had come to Jerusalem were non-Jews, referred to as Greeks in our text because of the language they spoke. People from other countries (commonly called “Gentiles”) who had embraced the truths of the Jewish faith to one degree or another were called “proselytes.” It is interesting to note that Gentiles from the East had come at Jesus’ birth. Now, in His final days, they come once again.

They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, with a request. “Sir,” they said, “we would like to see Jesus.” Philip went to tell Andrew; Andrew and Philip in turn told Jesus. The fact that Philip’s hometown is mentioned here may signify some kind of reason the Gentiles approached him, but whatever the case may be, they came with a simple request. They wanted to see Jesus. Not in the sense of gazing upon Him as some celebrity; there was ample opportunity for that in Jesus’ daily coming and going. They wanted to meet with Him and personally speak with Him.

Apparently unsure of how to handle the situation, Philip consults Andrew. Both in turn present the request to Jesus. But Jesus does not directly respond to it. Instead, He uses it as the springboard for a deeper discourse on the reason why He had come to this planet populated by Jews, Greeks, Gentiles and every other nationality.

Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.” In the past Jesus had often cautioned His disciples and others that His time had not yet come. That was all about to change now, because “the hour has come.”

To be glorified means to be honored. With this word Jesus encompasses the whole scope of His redemptive work – His death, resurrection and ascension. Soon the world will know Him for who and what He is. (Remember the words of the centurion at the crucifixion: “Surely this man was the Son of God!”) And having indicated the nearness of this glorification process, Jesus now states – in the form of a paradox – the necessity of the first step: His death.

“I tell you the truth, 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.” The paradox is this: There can be no life unless first there is death. Jesus uses the illustration of a seed. It must die before it can bear fruit. As applied to Himself, Jesus Christ cannot bring forth a spiritual harvest (souls saved for eternal life) unless first He dies…

Implied in all of this, of course, is the substitutionary nature of Jesus’ life and death. He lived sinlessly in our place and perfectly fulfilled all God’s demands of us so we might not die eternally. And then He died shamefully on the cross so we might live forever in glory. Eternal life comes to us through the death of Christ. He must die so we can live. Life comes through death. This is the paradox of Christianity.

And it is a paradox that extends beyond Jesus. This principle has application for the life of all who call themselves His disciples. Jesus continues: “The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me.”

Let’s define a couple of words. First, we need to understand the word life as a reference to one’s self. Secondly, the word hate as applied to one’s life/self does not signify disgust or self-loathing, but a love for God which is such that all other loves, in comparison, are hatred. Jesus is calling for His disciples’ single-minded love and devotion. He calls for the same type of commitment toward Him that He showed toward us. But this is not a stand-alone demand. There is a promise attached.

The results of this dying to oneself and living for Christ will be splendid indeed. Jesus says His disciples will share in His glory and be honored now and eternally by our Heavenly Father. Think of that! God in His grace will actually honor us for doing what certainly will come naturally for the believer – loving and living for our Savior.

As our text continues Jesus again contemplates the nearness of His own suffering. “Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour?’ No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name!”

These words remind us of others He would soon speak in the Garden of Gethsemane. He knew what was ahead. Jesus Christ as true man and was not looking forward to it. Yet His desire was not for Himself or His self-preservation. It was for us, for our salvation, and for God to be glorified by His work.

In answer to His request, Jesus receives reassurance from His Heavenly Father: Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and will glorify it again.” The crowd that was there and heard it said it had thundered; others said an angel had spoken to Him. Jesus said, “This voice was for your benefit, not mine.”

By means of direct voices from heaven and the mighty miracles of Jesus, God had glorified His name in the past. Now He says through the upcoming death and resurrection of Christ He will once again bring glory to His name. Jesus points out to the crowd that this heavenly voice – however they perceived it – was just one more sign, one more miracle, one more divine indication that what was about to happen had to happen.

“Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out. But I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself.” He said this to show the kind of death he was going to die. Now – with His coming crucifixion and resurrection – Satan would be crushed, judged, exposed. Therein lies another paradox. What Satan thought was a victory was in fact a defeat. The words of the Easter hymn put it well:

The foe was triumphant when on Calvary The Lord of Creation was nailed to the tree.

In Satan’s domain did the hosts shout and jeer For Jesus was slain, whom the evil ones fear.

But short was their triumph; the Savior arose, And death, hell, and Satan he vanquished, his foes.

The conquering Lord lifts his banner on high; He lives, yes he lives, and will nevermore die.

But at this point the resurrection was yet to come. First the cross. And all who are drawn to that cross – those from every nation, language, tribe and tongue (remember the context; Greeks who wanted to “see Jesus”) – will live because He died for their sins. Our life through His death. That is the paradox of Christianity.

It is in the context of the cross that I’d like to return to Jesus’ earlier words about true discipleship and what this means to each of us personally. We should note that this whole “death to self and life to God” teaching was certainly not a new pronouncement by Jesus. Earlier in His ministry He made parallel statements.

Whenever Jesus makes these kinds of declarations we tend to equate them with sacrifice. And that is true. There is sacrifice involved with discipleship. But the danger is to equate such statements of Jesus with “forced against our will” sacrifice. Grudging sacrifice. Misguided sacrifice.

Unwilling sacrifice manifests itself in the idea that there are some things that we would like to do but can’t if we are to be “good” Christians… Unwilling sacrifice suggests to us the idea that our Christianity sometimes holds us back from having fun or really speaking our minds or tasting all the pleasures of life… Unwilling sacrifice sees Christianity as legalistic rules to be kept rather than a relationship to be enjoyed…

Yes, Jesus unapologetically asks us to live for Him. Yes, Jesus makes strong statements on the manner of true discipleship. But these words always stand in the shadow of His cross to which He has drawn us. Consequently at the same time Jesus makes these demands of discipleship, He also creates within us the willingness – even the eagerness – to carry them out. And then it’s really no longer a sacrifice, is it? It’s a willing response. It’s not the depletion of life as we know it, but a fullness of life that we could never imagine. This, too, is a paradox. Live for self, be empty. Live for Christ, be filled…

To that end, listen the words of the great 19^th century African explorer and missionary David Livingstone. When he died, Florence Nightingale made the remark that “God has taken away the greatest man of his generation.” A hero? This is how he viewed things:

People talk of the sacrifice I have made in spending so much of my life in Africa. Can that be called a sacrifice which is simply paid back as a small part of the great debt owing to our God, which we can never repay. Is that a sacrifice which brings its own reward of healthful activity, the consciousness of doing good, peace of mind, and a bright hope of a glorious destiny hereafter?

Away with such a word, such a view, and such a thought! It is emphatically no sacrifice. Say rather it is a privilege. Anxiety, sickness, suffering or danger now and then, with a foregoing of the common conveniences and charities of life, may make us pause and cause the spirit to waver and sink; but let this only be for a moment. All these are nothing when compared with the glory which shall hereafter be revealed in and for us. I never made a sacrifice. Of this we ought not to talk when we remember the great sacrifice which He made who left His Father’s throne on high to give Himself for us.

These are the words of a man drawn to the cross. A man who willingly and happily lived out the paradox of Christian discipleship, dying to self and living for Christ. And a man who exemplified the fulfilled life that goes along with it.

A week from today is Palm Sunday. Beginning on that day we will once again see the ultimate paradox of Christianity being played out. On Good Friday, as He prophesied, He will be lifted up from the earth. And with his death comes our life. Eternally.

Until then, drawn to and by the cross, may Jesus empower us to live the paradox of Christian discipleship: Dying to self, living for Him… fulfilled, free and as His grateful witnesses before a watching world. Amen.