Fall into the Dirt
Dear Friends,
As I move through this season of Lent, I have tried to do a better job of listening out for the message that I need to hear from our weekly gospel reading. You’d think that as a priest I would already have that art cultivated to perfection; but the truth is, I struggle just as hard as anyone else. Maybe even more so, since I have far too many “right” or “scholarly” ways to read scripture ingrained in my imagination.
In these past few weeks, we have traveled with Jesus into the wilderness, listened to his challenge to discern between the things of heaven and the things of earth, witnessed his outraged and outrageous cleansing of the temple, and overheard him compare himself to the serpent that Moses raised in the wilderness. Now he comes along, in this week’s gospel reading, speaking of grain and dying, losing one’s life and keeping it, hating and loving.
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. (John 12:24-25)
What speaks to me most clearly in this week’s passage are the paradoxes that I have heard and tried to understand all my life but have never quite mastered. The tension and relationship between dying and rising, hiddenness and revelation, losing and finding, intention and surrender. Like many of you, I’ve worked hard at “letting go,” trying to train myself to release my grip on all that is not of God. But this year I’ve been wondering: what if it is not about giving up but giving in? Falling into dirt, as Jesus says in the gospel. Going where grain is supposed to go. Following the trajectory within the seed that takes us deep down into the dark soil, but also, finally and fruitfully, out of it.
It goes against our logical reasoning that what falls into earth could live again. That letting go could enable this living. Of course, this bears discernment. Sometimes we are called to hold on fiercely, to refuse to let part of ourselves die; other times we are invited to release our hold to allow new life to rise up in us. As I consider the things that I’m holding onto and trying to let go of as I prepare for my sabbatical in May, the realization that “giving in” is very different from “giving up” is helping me to release my grip on some of the seeds I’m clinging to and let them fall where they are supposed to fall. And trust they will bear fruit.
In this fifth week of Lent, what is the God of paradox up to in your life? How are Jesus’ words about dying and living sitting with you? Is there something you are sensing an invitation to let go of in order to enter more fully into the life God desires for you? What help do you need in order for this to happen? Who are your companions on the way?
In Christ,
Amelie+
