“They Didn’t Know We Were Seeds”

John 12:20-33
Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” Philip went and told Andrew, then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 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. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.
“Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say: ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” Jesus answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.

Our journey through Lent seems to be going faster and faster. Maybe it's just my own imminent life-changing experience ahead, but time does seem to be flying by. All of a sudden, we find ourselves entering into a Holy Week passage. Next Sunday, we will be waving Palm branches and shouting “Hosanna.” Today, we are walking with Jesus towards the cross, and towards the tomb. Our gospel reading today takes place during the Passover week as Jesus and his followers, along with thousands of others, are headed to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. More so than any of the others, John is the gospel that expands Jesus’ ministry not just to the Jews but all people and so we learn that there are Greeks there who know about Jesus and they want to see him. But in typical Jesus fashion, the way that he teaches them is far from clear and to the point.

He begins with a metaphor that at first I took issue with. I enjoy gardening, and so I know that seeds do not, in fact, die when they are buried. There are seeds that are dead but those seeds do not produce a plant. The seeds that do produce a plant are very much alive, even if they have nothing to show for it above the ground. However, I came across an interpretation that has been stirring in my mind all week, which is that of an acorn. If you were to dig up an oak tree, and sift carefully through the dirt, you would not find an acorn there. In order for the oak tree to grow, the acorn must go away completely. The acorn no longer exists. It is completely transformed from what it once was into the oak tree that it has become. So perhaps it is appropriate to say that it has “died.” But it is no accident that Jesus mentions not an acorn or a random, unspecified seed, but a grain of wheat. A grain of wheat that will go on to produce stalks of wheat that will be ground into flour, and made into bread; into the bread of life. In order for life to be given, something must first go away or even die.

It’s this counterintuitive logic that defines the way of Jesus. His way is so different from the ways of this world. Jesus goes on and says, “Now is the judgment of this world. Now the ruler of this world will be driven out.” So what does he mean by that? As many of you know I was raised in an evangelical church at a time in which the phrase “in this world but not of this world” was quite popular. You could even get clothing with that logo! There was this idea that things that were of “the world” were bad and things that were “of God” were good, and the difference between the two was supposed to be self-evident. The other kids in my youth group and I were taught to avoid things that were “secular and worldly” and focus on what was “godly.” But this interpretation misses the fact that the world belongs to God. God made this world and called it good! The worldly/ godly binary is a myth. 

Instead, I've been drawn towards the interpretation by Walter Wink, a famous nonviolent ethicist. Wink says that the Greek word for World, kosmos, is probably best translated as “the System” with a capital S. This System is driven by a spirit or force aka “the ruler of the world”, whose ways are domination, violence, and death. In this text, the crucifixion is interpreted as an exorcism, in which the System is judged and its driving force is “cast out” by means of the cross. The System is the fallen realm that exists in estrangement from God and is organized in opposition to God’s purposes. The “world” is a superhuman reality, embodied in structures and institutions, that aggressively shapes human life and seeks to hold human beings captive to its ways. I think it’s also another word for Sin. 

So what is the System? Well, it’s tricky because it likes to hide in plain sight in so, so many places. The System is consumerism and the wildly out of control Capitalism that we are all beholden to, no matter how much we know it’s killing the world. How many of us consume and consume, even though we know no amount of consumption will give us life, and we know it is literally killing people in sweatshops throughout the System?

The System is domination– a world shaped by hierarchies of winners and losers, so much so that it’s impossible to imagine a world without it. The System takes those hierarchies and turns them into structures and institutions that perpetuate racism, sexism, heterosexism, classism, and on and on.

And then, of course, the System is violence. Oh, we know that the System is war and greed, but it’s sneakier too. Walter Wink has suggested that the “myth of redemptive violence” is the primary myth of the System. According to this myth, the way to bring order out of chaos in this world is through violently defeating “the other.” The System tells us that the way to deal with threats from enemies is by violently eliminating them—as the System seeks to do to Jesus on the cross. This myth plays itself out everywhere in our culture. We see it in the old, almost archetypal, Popeye cartoons in which Popeye restores order by eating his spinach and beating up Bluto. We see it in video games and movies that train our children in this myth from their earliest days. More seriously, we see it in the death penalty, in acts of terrorism, and in nations’ responses to terrorism. Look at the response of the US after 9/11 or Israel after the attacks on October 7th. The horrible loss of life in those attacks is used as the justification for even more death and violence and suffering. We are told that the only justifiable response to terrorism is to strike back and eliminate the threat for good. Nevermind the fact that terrorism has never been fully eradicated and such retributions have only bred more hate and new forms of terrorism. And yet, many of us have trouble even imagining alternatives to this myth—a grim signal of our captivity to it.

I think this is what Jesus is talking about when he says, “those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” He’s not saying, “whoever can be the most miserable in this life will get to go to Heaven.” It’s not about choosing one miserable existence after another in order to earn salvation.

So what does it mean to hate your life in this world? It’s to hate the System. I hate that I know how Amazon treats its warehouse employees, the way it pushes out small businesses, and contributes to the climate catastrophe and yet I still have my Amazon Prime membership and cannot stop buying and buying. I hate that racism has so thoroughly infected this world and myself that I have unintentionally said and done so many racist in my lifetime and surely damaged relationships in the process. I hate how women’s lives and bodies and experiences are undervalued and often outright ignored by men who are in power. I hate how parents are so fundamentally unsupported in this country and that people have to choose between rent payments or daycare costs. I hate that no matter how much I try to put others’ needs first, I am still so self-centered it makes me sick. I hate that the rich get richer while the poor get poorer and the fact that I am too afraid of what will happen to me and to my family if I try to opt-out of the System. I hate it and I am so afraid of trying to reject it.

So yes, I hate my life in this world because I hate what the System forces me and all of us into. That is why we need Jesus. Throughout his life and journey to the cross, Jesus enacts his freedom from this myth, refusing to respond in the System’s own violent terms. In his trial before Pilate, Jesus says, “My kingdom is not from this System. If my kingdom were from this System, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here” (John 18:36). Jesus’ rejection of violence is precisely what distinguishes his way from the way of the System.

It’s like the seed that must be buried before a stalk of wheat can emerge. What seemed like the seed’s worst day turned out to be the beginning of something more beautiful and wonderful than could ever have been accomplished had the seed stayed above ground. This is how the Gospel responds to the System– through the most upside down, unexpected, counterintuitive methods. By exposing the System on the cross, Jesus “casts out” its driving spirit; for once we have seen the System for what it is, we begin to be set free from its captivating ways. We are set free to die to a life shaped by the System, in order to live fully and freely in the way of Jesus (12:25–26).

I’m not saying that it’s easy or that I am proud to be a leader in the ways of rejecting the System. I have so much tied up in the System and so far to go to reject it fully. That is why I need Jesus and his nonviolent resistance to the System on the cross. One of my favorite quotes reminds me of Jesus’ teachings in John 12. It’s been used by nonviolent protestors over the years and around the globe. It’s often found on protest signs saying– “they tried to bury us but they didn’t know we were seeds.” 

Jesus’ seemingly worst day is ahead of him– the day he will be murdered by the System and buried in a tomb. The System will believe it has won, because what life can come from something that has been buried? But the System is not more powerful than the God who created this world and who is infinitely more creative and clever than the System can imagine. This is why Jesus has come– for a death that is also a new beginning. That is why the Worst Day of the Christian year is called Good Friday. Even death does not get the final word and that will always, always be good news.