What we say we want isn’t really what we want. Sure, it makes sense in the moment, your best advisers may say go for it, you’ve trained for it with a goal in mind. But when you actually get it…Maybe not.
They were from out of town, Greeks, trained in logic and philosophy. The Jewish festival Passover was in a few days. Likely, they had come to observe for themselves this religious high point of the year for Jews. Yet, there was this new guy who people were saying had a different take on the Law, some thought he might be the Messiah the ancient prophets had promised would deliver the Jews from Roman control. Why not hear his take on life’s meaning?
“We want to meet Jesus.” Sounds simple enough. Listen to him teach, maybe have a good philosophical dialogue, shake hands, and on with the rest of their itinerary. Maybe what we say we really want isn’t what we’re really asking.
Jesus had plenty to say, but it wasn’t a dialogue, a give-and-take time of questioning, proposing alternatives. There was no small talk, welcoming as equals, light discussion of the events of the day. Jesus doesn’t assume a role; he is what he is. And he tells it outright.
“The time has come…”, he begins. All are on notice to be expectant for God is going to move, the Son of Man is going to get his glory. Unexpectedly (and characteristically), he takes this differently from illustrations of adoration, triumph, celestial celebration. Something about how a kernel of wheat had to die before it can grow and produce a bountiful harvest of wheat? You’ve got to listen hard to catch up with him sometimes.
“Those who love their life will lose it,
and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”
Speaking for those Greek visitors and the rest of us, what in the heavens and on earth can you possibly mean? Love is not meant to be thrown away. It’s precious, so you protect that which you love. But you’re saying to hate our precious lives so we can keep it? Yeah, Pastor of the Paradox, you certainly are!
Love is precious, and it drives much. Where you place that love, that loyalty, that dedication is the point. If you want to meet Jesus, you have to meet him where he is. “Come, and follow me,” he says. To do so is to refute much of what you think you must have to live, to survive, to be happy in this world. Your right to yourself is sacrificed to being his follower, his disciple.
Good golly, this is too much, really. So all I’ve worked for, everything I’ve become, is completely out the window? Dear God, but how can you ever ask this of us?
Granted, it’s a lot. A whole lot. Wimps need not apply. It does make you rethink what’s central, what right that now may seem non-negotiable, the I-can’t-ever-live-without things of life. If not an immediate one-eighty reversal, it would require a lifetime of peeling the onion in finding what is the pristine core which makes life worth living. Maybe, that’s the purpose of the exercise. In all though, Jesus wants to be that central thing. But don’t think it’s too much to ask of someone. He knows.
He knows because it was no less than what was asked of him. He struggled with it more than we’ll ever know. “Should I pray, ‘Father, save me from what lies ahead?’” he asked of himself as much as those around him. Before the week was out, he’d meet his purpose, to be like that kernel of wheat and die, buried in the ground. The ultimate sacrifice we call it. Surely, God would not ask that of us, we hope.
Yet, that kernel has to die as a seed before it can grow and produce a harvest. From a life sacrificed in following Jesus, there is a reaping of life that will not die, that which will last now into eternity. So loss becomes gain, death reverses into life, letting go leads to finding more.
Really? Show me. Give me your best shot. Who, when, where does this happen? And on the other side, you say there’s benefit?
More than benefit. Jesus asks this because he knows. He lived it and he died. The cross was just around the corner. But only by his dying could the final outcome of life be reversed. He died as a kernel of wheat, seeding then new life for us through resurrection, restoring us to full life.
People say they want it all, the best life possible. It’s like saying what they want but not really wanting what they say. Jesus says he wants the same, but not more of the same. By his life example and purpose, meeting him as Son of God, there is more life, an abundance beyond what you might really want.
The choice then is given: you can love your life or lose it for him.
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