Jeremy L. Berg

Fifth Sunday in Lent: 

Psalm 51; Heb 5:5-10; John 12:20-33

My friend hated every minute of basic training for the Army, but was grateful for it later when he was on the battle field. My kids screamed as the doctor inserted the needle in their arms, but are grateful they are now immune from illnesses. I complained every morning my basketball coach had us in the weight room before school, and I think it probably was a complete waste of time because I never did put any muscles on my scrawny arms.

Well, two out of three examples give you the nitty gritty law of discipline and maturity, of growth through grit. That is, we must endure some hardships as a pathway to strength and maturity—in sports, in academics, in relationships, and especially in growing spiritual muscles.

The season of Lent is not about riding rainbows and unicorns, but traversing barren landscapes and facing our dragons within. Jesus goes before us—God in human flesh but also human flesh living in the power of God. 

The Lenten journey is not about victorious living as much as faithful dying. It’s less inspiration and more desolation. It’s a season of fasting, not feasting. We toss our pirate appetites for shiny trinkets overboard, and spend the season opening the treasure chest of suffering to hold that priceless coal of possibilities in our hands. Priceless coal? Hang on.

A theme of our lectionary texts this week on the Fifth Sunday of Lent is that of the diamond hiding inside the coal of spiritual suffering. Remembering the ole adage captured by Henry Kissinger and others, “A diamond is a chunk of coal that did well under pressure.” Jesus is the diamond about to be crushed into glory in John’s Gospel:

“Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified…. 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” (John 12:27).

How often do we run from circumstances that trouble our souls? A friend in need? A habit we work to hide or deny? An opportunity that takes us out of our comfort zone? Echoing Jesus, What should I say about my uncomfortable situation—Father, save me from this growth opportunity? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this liminal space of growth potential. 

Press forward with God. The hour of suffering above is the same as the hour of glorification. Do we believe that? Do we believe that the mud of our present misery might be hiding the runway to ascend new spiritual heights? That our present trial might be the weight room where God wants to grow our spiritual muscles? 

If our earthly coach was fond of saying ‘No pain, go gain’, our Heavenly coach might have said to Jesus (and us) ‘No grime, no glory.’ Behold, Jesus sweating and suffering as he reverently submits to his Father’s training in the divine weight room: 

“In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission.Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered;and having been made perfect (mature), he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him” (Heb 5:7-9).

What about us? What does our Heavenly strength coach want  us to work on? The Psalmist this week is confessing to his trainer all the ways his soul is weak and flabby, and his desire to finally buckle down and form new spiritual habits. But its not toned abs, buns of steel, or chiseled jaw line God is after. Rather, he confesses to Divine Trainer:

“You desire truth in the inward being; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart.Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have crushed rejoice.Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me” (Ps 51:3, 6-8, 10).

Let the season of Lent be a 40-day purge and soul cleanse. God wants to use our coal like circumstances to bring about the diamond like virtues of truth in our inner being, wisdom, joy and gladness, a clean heart and an upright spirit. 

But will we embrace the present “yuck” in order to shout the future “yippee”? While we cringe and protest this one line of the Psalmist, Jesus and all spiritual sages ever since have understood what it means to say to God: “Let the bones that you have crushed rejoice” (Ps. 51:8). For that’s how immortal diamonds are forged from mortal bones. Jesus’ dark hour of suffering was also his bright hour of glorification. Might that also be true for us?