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Jesus is beginning in this text, at this point of his ministry, to tell us he is not kidding about the suffering he will see. "He told all of this to indicate the kind of death he was to die." The kind of death he was to die. It is not a good day. The disciples see that he is troubled. He is talking with God. He has begun the small doubt that he was to know. What shall I say? Shall I speak to my father?

He does. A voice comes, confirming his death and the glorification that will come from it. "... when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself." We are assured that Jesus will have a victory through his death. "Now the ruler of this world will be driven out." Who is the ruler of this world? Some say the devil. I say indifference. I might even say that the devil is indifference.

Consider what is going on in your community right now. It is probably not much different than what is going on in my community.

I think of the closing of one of our large hospitals. A newspaper editorial tried to wake people up: "The roof has fallen in on City Hall! The Cathedral's windows have been broken! South Church's steeple fell down! The Pioneer Valley Central Labor Council's megaphone, microphone, and phone systems went out! Disaster has struck the city!"

Most people thought they were talking fiction, like Andrew and Philip did at first, also. They were not really talking fiction. Only sort of. A big and good local hospital closed. A large local factory also moved to Mexico. No big deal, we might say. Only a continuation of a lingering, smoldering fire that has charred the economic infrastructure of my town and your town and is now taking its hits on the moral and political infrastructure as well. The silence is deafening: paychecks disappear! People turn their gaze.

What Jesus asks by the glory of his death is that we accept his permission to bother. To notice. To see. To lament. To care. These are religious motions. If we do not make these moves, their capacity dies in us. If we are not able to move and be moved religiously, we die also. More of our local communities may already be more dead than any of us dare admit.

There is no glory in death when indifference rules the city. There is glory in the death of love. Watch why Jesus dies: not to validate the ruler of the world in cynicism and hatred and indifference. He dies, rather, to defeat the ruler of the world by a larger love.

Notice closed hospitals. Many close without giving appropriate legal notice to employees. Many are penalized for violating the WARN act, an early advisory system to protect employees who are about to be "canned." The safety net would be just fine if there weren't so many holes in it. It is ragged at best. Bother. Notice. See. Lament. Care. Jesus would have.

Can you imagine what it was like to be a limboed lay-off on each of these days? Or to be a teenager in that family? Or a spouse? Or the bank holding the mortgage on the 3-bedroom, nice backyard home? Or the parish awaiting its pledge?

Noticing is not whining. Noticing is caring. What can we do to stop the damage to our lives, our paychecks, our children, our dignity? Our Jesus?

We can notice. We can make the lines hum with possibility and indignation. We can also care. We can refuse the destruction of our economic, political, and moral environment sitting down.

The root word to salvation is security, shalom, safety. Religious communities are about the business of salvation, not the business of business. But salvation is on a continuum. Genuine Divine Providence wants people to be fed, to have good work, to be able to pay their bills. Salvation and security shake hands with each other in justice.

The glory of Jesus Christ is his death on a cross on behalf of salvation, against the ruler of the world, the one we call hate and indifference, if we're too afraid to use the devil word itself.

Many people have had childhoods surrounded with anxiety about jobs. Many people still live with anxiety about their next pay check. The roof falls in on their city hall. The spires of their churches fall down.

Is there a way people can join Philip and Andrew in hearing about what kind of death people will suffer? Can your town or city hear? Notice? Care? See? Lament? Before it is too late to really help? Before it is too late to fix the roof and right the steeple. Before Providence takes any more hits.

What glorified Jesus' death is the way he died. His "Heavenly Father," as he called him, said, "I have glorified ... his death, and I will glorify it again." Somehow I don't believe Jesus died only once on the cross. I think Jesus dies every time someone gets hurt and others don't care.

I believe we have a chance to be part of the glory of the cross. Maybe we don't have big dramatic hospital closings as our cross. But I'll bet a boy was suspended from school and no one noticed. I'll bet a young girl was killed by a drunk driver and people's fuel of love for her family ran out the first week. I'll even bet something bad happened to one of you and no one noticed.

See. Bother. Lament. These are the actions of caring. They glorify the cross. Jesus knows. He led the way. His heart did not stay troubled. His love started out in a troubled way. By the action of caring, Jesus defeated the deviltry of indifference. He also lifted himself up from the trough of trouble into the glory of hope. He led the way out of the trough: he led the way to glory. We may follow -- by seeing, by bothering, and by lamenting. These are the routes to glorification.