Now I will be glorified

John 12: 20-33, NT pages 106-107 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.” Phillip 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 judgement 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. Sermon I have a confession to make. Bill Haslam he has been named the grand marshal of the Mule Day parade, and I am consumed with jealousy. You may or may not be feeling the same way, but I can tell you that as for me, ever since my first Mule Day parade I’ve looked at the grand marshal with a sinful degree of envy. That first Mule Day I was standing next to Nick Reed, who was then serving our church as interim associate pastor, and Nick pointed up to the grand marshal as he rode by – that year it was Guy Penrod of the Gaither Brothers – and Nick jokingly elbowed me, “that could be you one day Joe.” I laughed along with him, while secretly thinking, “That could be me one day.” We can all dream, and I imagine that all of you have your own aspirations – dreams yet to be fulfilled to compliment the goal’s you’ve achieved already. When you look back on life there are certain milestones that make getting older easier, as a friend once told me that birthdays are celebrations so long as you’ve achieved what you wanted to achieve. Turning 30 is only hard if by the age of 30 you’d made it a goal to be a college graduate, but on your 30th birthday you still have yet to take the first class. Turning 40 hurts only if you thought you might have climbed the corporate ladder higher than you have. 50 – How are the children and can you pay for their education? If they’re fine you’ll celebrate. If they aren’t you’ll mourn. 60 – Will you be ready to retire? 70, 80, 90 – all birthdays don’t have to be hard, but they often are because each one takes us farther away from our youth and the days when everything was possible and closer to our death when we’ve run out of time. What will the obituary say? When a civilization approaches her death, the obituary’s not called an obituary but a history book, and the history of the Greeks was being written even in the time of Jesus. Greek military power had faded as the Roman legions took control of the once dominate nation, but still the Greeks were admired for all for their advances in mathematics, medicine, philosophy, government, architecture, and literature. I began seminary by learning to read Greek, not just so I could read Homer’s Iliad, but because even our New Testament was written in Greek – the global language of the ancient world. I remember our professor beginning the course by telling us that learning to read Greek would not only enable us to read the words of Jesus in the original language they were written in, but reading Greek would enable us to read the greatest works of literature ever written, for in her opinion, even after more than 2,000 years, human civilization had yet to beat the Ancient Greeks. Tourists still travel to the Acropolis, the highest point in Athens where the ruins of the Parthenon stand. It took the Greeks 9 years to complete the structure. It took the people of Nashville between 6 and 10 years to compete theirs, but the difference is that we had the advantages of cement and cranes while the Greeks built theirs of stone lifted by humans. We are still amazed by the Ancient Greeks, so a question worth asking is – what did they want with Jesus? “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.”” But why? They had religion, more gods than could be counted on two hands. They didn’t need him to heal them from blindness or leprosy – Greek doctors following the traditions of Hypocrites could have treated them for either. And they might have been curious about Jesus’ reputation as a teacher – but what self-respecting Greek would have gone to Galilee when the students of Socrates and Plato were so close? Why did they want to see Jesus? Possibly for the same reason that we all do, when finally we reach the conclusion that even our best efforts, our greatest accomplishments, our finest achievements, are susceptible to the same decay that afflicts our frail human bodies. The funeral liturgy says it well: “All flesh is as grass; and all its beauty is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades.” Even the Parthenon crumbles to ruin. And knowing this – knowing the frailty, even though our greatest civilizations have all worked hard to deny the truth that all human accomplishments will fade from reality and into history to eventually be forgotten – Jesus gives the Greeks something that only he could give. He offers them eternity: “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.” There are some who embody this teaching better than others. I’ve confessed to you already, of my aspiration to one day be grand marshal of the Mule Day Parade, but I’m thankful for the example of heroes of the faith who have made greater strides to concur vain human glory. Not long ago the great preacher, Dr. Fred Craddock died. He preached here, and so many of you remember his sermons well, despite the fact that he preached those sermons more than 10 years ago. He served a church here in Columbia, where the Center for Autism is located now, and when he did several members of our church worshiped with him, our own Bronston Boone serving as the equivalent of Clerk of Session during Dr. Craddock’s pastorate. The Boones remained friends of the Craddock’s, and in my first or second year here, Bronston offered to drive me all the way to Ellijay, Georgia, to Dr. Craddock’s home, to have lunch. Now this was the most incredible honor for me. Dr. Craddock was already one of my heroes, and the chance to speak with him was a gesture of kindness that I’ll never forget. We drove the three or four hours down there – ate a lunch of curried chicken salad – and as Bronston got caught up with Mrs. Craddock, Dr. Craddock took me aside, giving me the chance to ask him any questions I wanted to. Now the unfortunate thing is that I was too nervous to think very clearly, and I’ve since thought of a million questions that I’ll now never have the chance to ask – but one quote that has stayed in my mind, and may well stay in my mind forever, is that Dr. Craddock told me, “there was a time when all I wanted to do was become a preacher. Then once I became a preacher I aspired to become a great preacher. Only now I’ve changed again, for there is no greater goal than to be a disciple of Jesus Christ.” Oh how I’d love to be the grand marshal of the Mule Day Parade. How I’d love to be a great preacher. But all accolades, all our greatest accomplishments – none of them offers us greater glory than the gift that Christ brings in his death. “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” Certainly there will still be some who will go to the Lord with a list of people they’ve known, awards they’ve received, carrying trophies in a wheelbarrow for entry into the gates of heaven – but I pray that none of us will be so foolish, for even the Greeks approached Jesus in need. Even the Greeks were but beggars at his feet. It reminds me of a story I’ve only just now heard about a former pastor here of 22 years – Dr. Bill Williamson. Bill was a preacher, so was his brother, as was his uncle or maybe it was his father or both – but the example of faithfulness as the story goes was Bill’s grandmother who was once pulled over for speeding. She went to court for the first time in her life, where the judge asked if she’d had any prior convictions. “Indeed I do,” she said, “It is my conviction that Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior.” So often it seems that the goal of life is to be great. To do great things and to achieve great goals. Instead this day, come to a greater understanding of who he is, what he has done, and what his death has done for you. Through his death, his life was lifted up, to draw all people to himself. Therefore it is not what you have done that matters. Come to terms instead with what he has done for you. Amen.