HOMILY for the 5th. SUNDAY of LENT [B], March 18th., 2018
“The hour has come”
Chaos theory is a way of explaining – or not explaining – the working of the universe.
In chaos theory every action is seen as the result of preceding actions (that at least is a belief thousands of years old), but in a way nearly impossible to predict. The initial conditions for the chain of events are very important, even if insignificant in themselves.
The weather is an example of a chaotic system: to predict it accurately long-term we would need to take an infinite number of measurements, which we can’t. And perhaps the most famous example is that of the American mathematician and meteorologist Edward Lorenz, who simulated weather patterns on a computer and found that a very small calculation change at the beginning radically affected the result. Hence what he called the butterfly effect: a butterfly flapped its wings in Hong Kong, and caused a tornado in Texas.
Or, if you prefer, a few unpunched ballot papers in Florida (remember the US Presidential election of 2000?) resulted in bombs raining down in Baghdad.
And in today’s Gospel we have heard what is probably the best example of chaos theory in the Bible. “Some Greeks” wanted to see Jesus. Now these were not pagans, nor were they from Greece. They were Greek speaking Jews, from Alexandria and elsewhere, presumably on pilgrimage, and probably wanted to question Jesus about matters of the Law, the Scriptures and so on. Typically curious as “Greeks” are, they approached one of the two apostles with a Greek name – Philippos, Philip – who promptly got the other apostle with a Greek name – Andreas, Andrew.
They want to “see” Jesus. But what do they want to see? Not just simply a cleverer rabbi, no doubt – even if he was one who hadn’t studied.
And Jesus, as so often, does not really answer. He doesn’t say: “Sure, bring them to me”. And ironically, despite their wish to see (and despite what we have been saying in recent weeks about seeing rather than hearing) most of what follows involves them hearing. They are not coming because of the signs – they haven’t seen any – they are coming because of the real being.
In what follows, these Greeks witness the deep Communion existing between the Father and the Son, and between the Son and humanity. The Father’s voice: approving of the Son again, as at the Baptism and the Transfiguration. The prediction of the Passion as the dying grain of wheat. They will “see” (but not literally) the baptised, transfigured, dying Christ, who dies in order to bear fruit. What is happening to Christ is what is represented in art as the Flowering Cross, with all human life caught up in its branches.
And these Greeks (who clearly represent us) come to know that they are directly involved, too. “He who loves his life, loses it”. The one who loses his life brings forth not just fruit, but much fruit: the salvation of the world, the gathering in of the pagans.
This is the hour of Jesus’ glory. In John’s Gospel there is no prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane, no agony of Jesus, but there is a moment of doubt when Jesus wonders whether he should be praying to be saved from this hour. It is a ‘mini-Gethsemane’. But no! He must not be saved from it. “Father, glorify your name!”
This is not ‘glory’ as in the human sense, somebody mounted on a pedestal with society praising their merits.
What is more, the glory is not just the conclusion of the story, the Ascension into Heaven. The glory is the whole process, Cross and all. The Resurrection is not a reward for the Passion; it is all one. The Cross is part of the glory. “I have glorified you, and I will glorify you again” – in agony, abandonment, crushing. Christ is the Prince of all glory through making himself nothing, being put on trial by men – whereas in the Old Testament it is God who summons humans to place them on trial.
It sounds like a storm, like thunder, but it is glory. Likewise our glory is not only when we have scored a success. Our glory is also when we are put on trial, tested, humiliated, led to serve and not to be served, rocked by the storms of life.
“We want to see Jesus”. Maybe the simplest answer to the Greeks would have been: “Very well, come back on Good Friday”.
We have a tendency to want to see only the Jesus we want to see. But his pattern is our pattern. Baptised, we are children of God. Transfigured, we are recalled to our divine nature. As grains of wheat, our life is not for ourselves but for others.
The Greeks wanted to see they knew not what. People come into this church, and other churches, seeking they are not sure what. May they do so again in the Holy Week which approaches, and may they discover that communion between Father and Son, Son and humanity.
Chaos theory reigns in our lives: little deeds, little acts of love, little looks, can set in motion a great wheel of events, with results we cannot possibly conceive of. And we have some anonymous Greeks to thank for the fact that this truly awesome project of God in Christ did not fail, but was carried through to the end. Chaos indeed!