FIFTH SUNDAY OF LENT "B"

FIFTH SUNDAY OF LENT   Cycle “B”

“Unless the wheat grain falls on the ground and dies…..”

After that solemn Gospel, let me tell you a not so solemn and peculiar story, taken from Zen philosophy. Once upon a time there was a young Japanese named Matajura who wanted to be a great swordsman. But his father & brothers told him he wasn’t quick & agile enough and would never learn. So Matajura went to the most renowned swords master in all of Japan, a man by the name of Banzo, and asked to become a pupil. “How long will it take me to become a master swordsman ?”  “I am ready to be your servant in order to be with you every minute.”  “Ten years”, said Banzo, the master. “Ten years !” “Oh, no, no, my father is getting old and I have to return to take care of him,” said Matajura.  “Suppose I work twice as hard, and do more than what is required of me. How long will it take, then ?”

“Thirty years,” said master Banzo.  “Thirty years,” gasped Matajura.  “How is that ?”  “Let me make myself clear: I will work unceasingly. No hardship will ever be too much. So now how long ?”   “Seventy years”, said Banzo.  “A pupil in such a hurry learns very slowly.”

The young Matajura began to understand. He became Banzo’s servant. And Banzo ordered him to do three things. First, he was not to pick up a sword.  Second, he was not to watch the others practicing. Thirdly, he was not to speak of fencing or read books in the library or look at pictures of swords. This caused him a great deal of pain, but he obeyed, as he was a servant.  He cooked, washed, cleaned, swept, worked the garden, did the laundry.

Matajura kept his word. A year passed and he learned much of discipline, honesty, integrity, obedience, and respect. He found he had no desire to read about swords and battles. Another year passed, and he learned more discipline of body and mind. He grew strong and agile, fast and graceful, and sure of himself. He no longer desired to watch the students as they fenced and practiced. A third year passed, and he learned the seasons of the year, rituals, prayers, asceticism, silence, humility, meekness. He realized then that he had no desire even to pick up a sword. What has happened to him, to his dream ?

Then one day while he was in the garden, digging up carrots for lunch, the master Banzo came up stealthily behind him and without warning gave him a terrible whack with a wooden sword. Matajura turned, surprised, stung to find Banzo with a broad grin on his face. The next day and the next the whacks came again at the most unexpected moments and places.  The blows came raining down night and day. No place or time was safe, and he was sore from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet.  He learned to live on his toes, to move at a moment’s notice, to spin, dance, jump, slip away, dodge any blow. He became like the wind, like air, like silence. Not a word was spoken. He lived for the encounter with no desires, no thoughts, only quickness, readiness, attentiveness, awareness. Nothing else. Soon the blows missed him once in a while, then almost all the time. And with that Banzo the master seemed to smile more and more deeply.

Then only they started the formal lessons in swordsmanship. It was quick. And soon the young Matajura became the greatest swordsman in Japan.  Even the master wanted to fight with him. No one ever landed a blow. They both were too quick.  Both smiled a lot and very deeply.  Matjura was a perfect man before he became a perfect swordsman.

Welcome to the school of the Spirit, the choice of the cross, of obedience even unto death. It is a school for adepts, for servants, and for those who want to be holy, to be warriors of God, armed with the sword of the Spirit, men and women of human maturity, spiritual agility and divine wisdom. We witnessed Jesus being baptised by John in the Jordan. Then we saw him tested in the desert. He is given the words, the insight and the strength to become who he is by the gift of God. And now the hour has come when Jesus will be glorified, that is, in which God will manifest to the utmost his presence in the Son. What Jesus is insisting on here is that life will be offered to the world through his death. If he is buried like the seed, if he is lifted on to the Cross, then much fruit will come, then he will draw all to himself.

In the Sequoia Park, California, tourists admire the giant General Sherman redwood tree, 365 feet high, dating perhaps from the year 5 B.C. At its base is a plaque containing a seed taken from the tree not bigger than the nail of one’s little finger. Just such a seed was buried in the earth and grew into this mighty tree while the exhibit seed will never produce anything. A telling illustration of what Jesus said, “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone.”  How many nations have been born only after thousands died to win independence? And it was by the death of the martyrs that Christ’s Church grew and spread. The person who loves his life, his material well being, her little ego, moved by selfish motives and self-seeking desires for comfort will never go far.

Suffering and death belong to the narrow road to Jesus. Jesus does not glorify suffering and death, or call them beautiful, good or something to be desired. Jesus does not call for heroism or suicidal self-sacrifice. No, Jesus invites us to look at the reality of our existence and reveals this harsh reality as the way to new life. The core message of Jesus is that real joy and peace can never be reached while bypassing suffering and death, but only by going right through them. We could say, “We really have no choice.” Indeed, who escapes suffering and death? Yet there is still a choice. We can deny the reality of life, or we can face it.  When we face it not in despair, but with the eyes of Jesus we discover something hidden that holds a promise stronger than death itself. Jesus lived his life with the trust that God’s love is stronger than death and that death therefore does not have the last word. He invites us to face the painful reality of our existence with the same trust. Jesus tested life and was tested by it in turn and he discovered that life and death were not bad jokes. The mysteries of Jesus have become our own mysteries: whatever happened to Jesus must happen to us. In today’s gospel, some Greeks approach Jesus through an intermediary. They chose Philip, perhaps because of his Greek name. They want to see Jesus. Jesus is informed of their desire to meet him, and even though no details are recorded of this interview, St. John leads us into the very heart of Jesus’ mission  -  Jesus was born to die. His focus was firmly set on his forthcoming passion. May we understand that his cross is life and light for the world and pray for his power to proclaim it to the world.

 

PRAYER (Mary Rose de Lisle): O Lord, everything fills me with fear and apprehension. Even the smallest commitment has become a huge ordeal in my eyes. I cannot see any hope or purpose in my life. Teach me to go on praying, though my faith seems lost and there is no apparent response. Give me the strength to face one day at a time, and to know that, somehow, you will carry me through. Do not let me become so obsessed with myself that I fail to respond to the needs of others. As I echo the words of Jesus, “Let this cup pass from me”, let me, like him, accept your will – and give me a little of his courage.