“Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat.
But if it dies it produces much fruit.”
Recently, I had the opportunity to watch American Idol.
I don’t know if you have ever watched this show;
it’s been going on for many seasons and it’s a great show.
They are still in the middle of auditions for this season.
I always find the stories of the potential candidates to be interesting.
Some are so confident;
they come up and they are almost borderline arrogant
and then they squeak out a little voice and we think,
“What was that?” It’s sort of a surprise.
Then others who are humble,
who have obviously gone through some great difficulties in their lives
and struggling with the hands they have been dealt to play.
They come humbly and then they bellow out in this beautiful voice;
Wow, where did that come from?
This last episode I saw, there were two contestants that struck me.
One was this young woman who suffers from cerebral palsy,
a disease that shortens life span as generally, it damages the lungs.
The idea that she could be a singer,
which requires her to use all her lungs is extraordinary.
But this young woman stood up there and
belted out this song that was just so beautiful.
I thought to myself, ‘Wow, that is so awesome.”
In the voice was the struggle, the fight for life,
the determination to not be determined by an illness.
She ended up going through.
I am not sure what will happen in the weeks ahead, of course.
Then there was this young man who was autistic
whose brother is also autistic.
He wrote this beautiful song:
“Basically, listen to me, it’s going to be okay.”
and even though he did not get through,
the authenticity of his story and the pain of his story,
stories of resilience;
stories of digging deep down into one’s self
and believing that there is something more than the illness;
something more than the suffering;
something more than the pain.
And that they produced this fruit, this beautiful voice and song.
I couldn’t help but think of that today as we celebrate this Mass
and we hear about how this grain of wheat
must fall to the ground and die.
In that there is the metaphor of dying to self,
to raise up as something wonderful, something new.
I think that is what the whole of the Lenten journey is about.
It is about digging deep into oneself and
realizing that that is where God alone resides.
In this first reading from Jeremiah
he tells these people who are suffering, who are in exile
and they cannot understand where there God is;
Jeremiah reminds them that their God is within them,
deep within their hearts
and that they do not need to learn it from anyone
that God has put his very presence in their hearts,
a heart of flesh not of stone.
This is the constant theme that Christ brings about
time and time again in his ministry,
a reminder that God is already with them here and now,
in his presence that he will be with them forever,
with them forever.
That in this presence God reminds us that the gift
that he gives to us is his complete, enduring presence;
that no matter what happens in our life God is with us.
You know, sometimes, I have heard over these last months from many of you some of the struggles you have had here in this parish
and I know it from other parishes is that life sometimes gives us some real curve balls.
And it is painful.
And the suffering is real whether it is the illness of ourselves;
illness of a loved one; or a tragic accident;
or a calamity of circumstances that seem to beset some families,
and those who have been able to dig deep like that into their own hearts
like these Idol contestants, they find that God is within them;
that God has never, ever abandoned them.
That is the challenge for us for Lent;
to dig deep into ourselves
and to find God is always there;
and that no matter what suffering that happens to us;
or what suffering comes our way
that we will not be rescued from the suffering,
which the Lord does not promise,
but he will redeem us in and through the suffering;
that much fruit will come from it if we choose to believe.
You know, this weekend a year ago,
we got locked down for the first time;
and we all thought back then it was going to be for a couple of weeks.
That seemed mind blowing and we were frightened.
It was a difficult time for around the world.
We did not know what was happening
and we were locked in place, frightened to go out almost.
Those were unsettling days but who would have known a year ago
that we would have spent most of a whole year in isolation.
And only now are we beginning to hope
and to see with the advent of our vaccinations coming around
that we are beginning to see some hope;
we are beginning to see some break through.
I always fear that we think that God is at the end of all of this.
I want us to be reassured that God has been with us all the time.
We have seen that time and time again here in this community;
and people reaching out to one another in their isolation.
How many are coming and joining us this morning on line from all over,
yearning to be in community,
recognizing the power of the praying and worshiping together.
Yes, while we yearn to do it in person,
we will do it anyway we can
because we know how important it is for our spirit internally.
In the midst of the darkness of this pandemic,
we have discovered a few things about ourselves
individually and as a community.
That we need each other
and we know we need each other;
and that is an important component of who we are;
and that gathering and family meals is no longer just a nicety
but an essential reality that we yearn for and so we should.
We yearn to give grandmother or grandfather a big hug
so that they know how much they are loved.
We yearn to see our elderly friends;
our young friends and gather again.
In the midst of this grain of wheat dying to the ground,
may we know that it will produce fruit
but we need to dig deep into our hearts and
realize that God has always been with us.
There is that beautiful poem from Edwina Gately
that I read last week at the Forgiveness retreat,
that closes with how she has gone through this life of ups and downs
and finally she found her God only to realize
that God was there all along. She says:
And then I saw,
Oh, fool, I saw!
That God had suffered
The pain and hopelessness…
That God…
Had been there in silence
God is with us in the midst of our suffering and pain
so let us choose the joy of the gospel and
together we will be the Body of Christ.
“Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies,
it remains just a grain of wheat.
But if it dies it produces much fruit.”
[i] Edwina Gately, Psalms of a Laywoman (Sheed & Ward:Franklin, WI)
