I said it to you on Palm Sunday, I said it again yesterday, and I’ll say it today — All through Holy Week we are meeting and examining truths and realities about ourselves, our lives, and our world that feel too big, too dangerous, or too painful to handle. 

Those truths, however, are more than just facts, propositions, or knowledge. They ask something of us. They are realities to be lived and experienced. There’s a difference between knowing the truth and experiencing the truth. Let me give you an example. 

Many of you know that about four weeks ago I had hip replacement surgery. A few weeks before the surgery the doctor told me the risks of surgery: my right leg might be longer or shorter than the left, I could suffer a catastrophic infection, I could die. 

I smiled, thanked the doctor, and said, “Okay.” I knew the truth as facts in my head. The morning of surgery, however, was different. That morning I experienced the truth when I saw my signature on the paper that said, “Do not resuscitate.” I was experiencing the truth when I told my wife, “I don’t think anything will happen. I hope it doesn’t. But if something does happen and you need a priest here’s who I want you to call.”

Truth isn’t really truth until it becomes real, experienced, lived. And that usually means having an argument with ourselves. The argument is less about whether something is true or false and more about our own integrity. Will we be true to ourselves and the truth we know or will we turn away from that truth and betray ourselves? 

I think that’s what we see happening to Jesus in today’s gospel (John 12:20-36) He’s arguing with himself.

He knows that “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.” He knows the truth about the grain of wheat. But is he ready to experience that truth? Is he willing and able to live that truth and be the grain of wheat? Will he practice what he preaches and do the truth? 

Do you hear the argument that’s taking place inside Jesus? On the one hand he wants to say, “Father save me from this hour.” On the other hand he says, “It is for this reason that I have come to this hour.” It’s a soul troubling kind of argument for Jesus and us.

Most of the time I know the truth. I suspect you do too. Knowing the truth isn’t usually the problem. The problem is our willingness to experience, live, and do the truth. I think that’s a part of the problem in our country today. I think that’s been an issue Uvalde has struggled with the past two years since the Robb School shooting. I think that’s what often keeps us from having deep and meaningful relationships with one another. We know the truth but we aren’t doing the truth. 

Holy Week is our invitation to not just know the truth, but to do the truth.

What’s the soul troubling argument you’re having within yourself today? What’s the truth in that argument that wants to be given life and expression in and through you? 

What fears and hesitations do you have about living and doing that truth? What would it take to go do and live that truth today? 

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Image Credit: Photo by Tom Hauk on Unsplash.