In this morning’s Fruit of the Vine, Paul Almquist reflects on John 12:23-33, a passage in which “Jesus likens his death to a kernel of wheat falling to the ground.” It’s a telling image, illustrating the reality that death is separation and an ending. But it’s more than that. Because, “at the right time [the seed] sprouts up and produces many more seeds.”
Paul reminds us, “Jesus predicted that his death would produce an amazing harvest.”
This is not how I’m used to thinking about death. For instance, we’re in a time of cultural change and institutional decline. Death – or the threat of death to so many of the things I’ve invested in and that I love – makes me tense, worried, fearful. What if everything we’ve worked together to build fails to hold together? What if we’re done?
Paul’s reflection is a reminder that what I fear, although a real possibility, isn’t the whole story. There’s a deeper truth here. The kernel’s death is also the seed of new life. The end is also a beginning. This reality explains the confidence of Jesus, who “resolutely declared he would not turn back. He would not seek safety. This was what he was born for!”
This morning, in light of Paul’s reflection, I’m prompted to think about what this means for Barclay Press. And I’m prompted to think about what this means for us. As old institutions, structures, and forms decline in size, number, and strength, what new things might be birthed? What new opportunities might open for us? What seeds has God already planted?
Where is God already at work, preparing to surprise us with hope? I don’t know. But I do know that “at the right time,” a “kernel of wheat falling to the ground” might take root and “produce an amazing harvest.” And I trust that it will be good.
Eric Muhr
Being together
Barclay Press is part of a large Quaker family. I’ve been in Philadelphia over the weekend, making connections with parts of that family. On Thursday, I had lunch with Gail Whiffen and Martin Kelley, editors at Friends Journal. After lunch, we picked up doughnuts from Beiler’s at Reading Terminal Market and walked back to the FJ offices. We talked about the myriad Quaker organizations and institutions and wondered, in the face of significant cultural pressure, if there might be new ways for Friends to be together.
On Friday, Chris Mohr gave me a tour of the Friends Center, where I had a chance to visit the Philadelphia Yearly Meeting library and the cubicle nearby where the work of the Tract Association of Friends happens (including their most recent book, A Language for the Inward Landscape, which we carry in our bookstore). Chris shared some maps and historical photographs; and we traded stories, mostly on the special difficulties and opportunities that come from the financial and relational connections between Friends meetings and Friends ministries.
On Saturday morning, Patricia Stewart bought me coffee. She and I met a year ago at a gathering of QUIP – Quakers Uniting in Publications. Patricia caught me up on the work of Friends House Moscow, an organization she has served alongside people like Johan and Judy Maurer. Over coffee, Patricia told me about youth-led protests in Russia, protests marked both by joyful exuberance and a passion for moral change: integrity, accountability, and dignity.
Later on Saturday, I met with a writer, Yelena Tower, and we discussed several ideas she has for a book-length writing project. Yesterday morning I worshiped at Central Philadelphia Meeting. Right now I’m in the air. We’re supposed to land in Denver in half an hour or so. Tonight I’ll be home, and tomorrow morning I’ll be back in the office at Barclay Press.
Quakerism has a historic reputation for being a faith that gets things done, and you can see – in our conference centers and colleges, our publishing houses and mission-sending agencies, our diplomatic work, our peace work, our work in prisons and in our own communities – that Friends have done a lot of work. But the work isn’t done. And part of the problem for us now is that we’re not always amenable to working together.
I wonder if that might change.
I wonder if there might still be a place for Friends.
I wonder what might happen if we learned new ways of being together.
And after this weekend, I’m encouraged. We have a lot of good people, good organizations and institutions, good work to do. This gives me hope.
Eric Muhr
Give up already
Micah Bales reflects on wealth and work in this morning’s Fruit of the Vine: “We’re terrified that we’re not doing enough, having enough, being enough. We . . . [hide] from the reality of our limitations, our weaknesses, and even death; longing to be forever young, strong, and healthy.”
Last night I read a chapter from Grace for Shame: The Forgotten Gospel by John Forrester, and he writes about what I think fuels my work (if not yours). In a culture that values productivity, failing to produce creates shame, and “the shamed person fears separation or abandonment.”
I don’t want to be alone.
Micah agrees. We need each other in order to survive, and our fear that we aren’t enough keeps us from being able to love. “Jesus shows us a new reality altogether in which we don’t need to be fixated on our own survival anymore. We can experience freedom to love others.”
Where do we find this freedom?
First, we have to give up, Micah writes. “As we embrace . . . surrender, we discover that the heart of the gospel is love – a release from the fear that has gripped us. . . . Despite all of the darkness, uncertainty, and even suffering, the path of Jesus is marked by radiant joy and passionate love.”
The problem is that our fear forces us to strive, and our striving separates us from the very people whose love and acceptance we want to earn. So we are never enough.
We can’t win that race, Micah argues, so we might as well give up. After all, Jesus is already with us, and “we don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
Eric Muhr