*Tuesday in Holy Week: John 12:20-36*
“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.
Oh Lord who showed up at festivals and feasts,
and, in your last days, spent time with those who wished to see you,
~ sharing truth,
~ evoking questions,
~ causing controversy,
in anguish I kneel before you this day …
afraid that the fragile skin I’m in
is altogether inadequate to contain
the sum of
of injuries sustained throughout the years
that have sickly festered
beneath my polite smiles
“I’m fine thanks. How are you?”s.
There is no honour in being broken,
no success to be had in failure,
no empathy for those who just can’t seem to get their lives together:
we learn so at our mother’s breast,
in classrooms crammed with wooden desks;
from friends who smirk behind our backs
and gossip about the things we lack.
O Wheat of Life who drew all people through your woundedness rather than your power;
who overthrew the status quo through sacrifice, not violence;
who opened up eternity through the so-called finality of the grave;
may I embrace my brokenness this day
and offer all the pieces of me that I seem to have lost
or given up along the way
and feeding …
… those who are bruised
those who are broken
those who are bleeding.