Sermon: The "Prince of Peace," Was It? (Aug. 18, 2013)

Pentecost 13C

August 18, 2013

Luke 12:49-56

         Well, we’re back! Newly wed, fresh from our honeymoon, moved into the new house, and back in the saddle. It was a full couple of weeks out in California, with several events to plan and attend, and crafts to complete, and of course the delicate walk you make with any wedding, where everyone is meeting and spending time with new people in different settings and navigating this new sort of relationship. But at the end, we came out of it, each of us, with a larger family, more people to love, more people to surround us in our lives. I’d say we did a pretty good job on the whole family dynamic front.

         What a surprise, then, to come back to this strange and disturbing Gospel text! This doesn’t seem like the Jesus we know – the “Prince of Peace,” wasn’t he was called? And here he’s talking about fire, and turning households against each other, and division between family members. A rude awakening, to be sure! What are we to make of this Jesus, who spits out these words, “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!”

There is plenty in this passage to be uneasy about, especially upon an initial reading. First, there is all this talk of fire. Fire is not something most of us welcome. Especially out west, where I’m from, fire is an ever-present danger in the summer. Like many of you, I grew up listening to Smoky the Bear tell me that, “Only YOU can prevent forest fires.” We learned that fire is dangerous. It’s destructive. People who fight fires are some of the most respected heroes in society.         

Then there is all the elaboration on division – father against son, son against father, and so on. Family dynamics can be very difficult, whether in the intensity of a wedding situation or just any old day. So why is Jesus advocating for conflict and division between family members? Who can read that without squirming in their seat?

It’s safe to say that most people try to avoid conflict if they can, whether in our personal relationships or in the church. I have a friend who interviewed for a pastoral internship, one of the requirements for seminary. His would-be supervisor told him that this congregation was divided about some big issues, and he said, “If you feel called to conflict management, this is a great internship site for you.” Yikes! While I know there are some who do feel called to the ministry of conflict resolution and healing, that would have sent me running, and it did my friend, too!

But these words from Jesus make us think differently about conflict, and about fire (whether metaphorical or physical). If Jesus says he came to kindle fire among us, and to cause division, then that must be a part of God’s plan for the world – but how?

When we were on our honeymoon, we went to Muir Woods, just outside of San Francisco. This is a large, preserved area of California coastal redwoods: these mammoth trees, the largest living things on earth, and some of the oldest – some of them have been around since Jesus walked the earth!  Part of what allows them to live so long is not only that they have thick bark that protects them from fire, but also that fire is actually essential for their reproduction. First, the fire clears out some the shade-loving and less durable species around the redwood, plants which would otherwise crowd out the little sequoia seedlings and prevent them from thriving. Second, fire dries out the cones, which allows the seeds to escape and germinate – that is, fire is necessary for new life to thrive. Fire is so essential to the survival of these giant trees, in fact, that our diligent attempts at fire prevention has actually threatened the trees’ survival, and now the National Park Service has had to begin controlled burns, starting fires, forcing it to rip through the forest and cause the necessary damage, so that the necessary growth can follow.

With that in mind, the fire that Jesus talks about starts to look a little dangerous. In a forest of redwoods, fire cleanses, and it brings new life. This is what we expect from a relationship with Jesus, is it not? Jesus’ fire, his “baptism,” as he calls it, destroys that stuff in our lives that keeps us from having a close relationship with Christ. It clears out the rubbish and helps us focus on God. And, of course, it brings us new life – life and transformation in this life, as well as the promise of everlasting life.

Yet, even with that good news, the fire that Jesus is trying to kindle is really no less scary, no less disruptive, no less dangerous. As he says, this fire will cause division. This gets into the conflict piece, that conflict that we humans so desperately try to avoid. We avoid it by telling white lies (or even lies that aren’t really so white), or by flat out ignoring it (and hence letting it fester), or by internalizing it and trying to make it our own fault (and hence possible for us to change it without having to talk to anyone else). Sometimes we even avoid one conflict that we don’t want to deal with by starting another one that we do know how to deal with – I can’t fix the issue at my workplace, but I can yell at my kids for not cleaning their room. Oh, we humans are very clever about avoiding conflict, are we not?

And yet, Jesus tells us that he has come to bring about that conflict, that division. When she was serving as the assistant to the bishop, Jessica Crist, now Bishop of Montana Synod, reflected on her work in the synod office. A large part of that position is what she calls “putting out fires” in the church, something she fancied herself to be pretty good at. But then upon reading this text, she realized: Jesus is the one setting some of those fires in the church! She writes, “Talk about a disconnect! I guess that I am probably as guilty as the next person of making God in my own image, of designing a Jesus whom I can fully comprehend. A Jesus who puts out fires sounds pretty sweet to me, pretty compatible, pretty comfortable, pretty useful. But that’s not the Jesus of the Gospel.”

So who is the Jesus of the Gospel? Again, at first reading, this stressed out, judgmental, fire wielding Jesus that suddenly appears in Luke chapter 12 may seem to come out of nowhere. But if we look elsewhere in Luke, we will see that he has been there all along.

Back in chapter 4, in his very first sermon, Jesus says, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, 
because he has anointed me 
to bring good news to the poor.
 He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives 
and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, 
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Sounds fine, until you realize: release of the captives is likely to upset some folks! Are they not in captivity for a reason? Letting the oppressed go free is great for the oppressed, but what about those who have benefited from their oppression – like those of us who buy clothes made in sweatshops because they are cheap? Jesus’ mission brings about change and conflict in our safe, comfortable, often self-serving lives. With Jesus’ fire on the loose, we cannot maintain a status quo in which people remain hungry, or live in the midst of constant war, or endure daily bullying. But in order for those things to change, people are going to get upset. There will be conflict. There will be division. There has to be. But after that conflict and division – that is the time that true peace can be realized.

Surely you’ve even seen this in your own lives. How many of you, when you have finally faced a conflict, have been able to find peace? After weeks of pent up frustration at your spouse, you finally blow up and get it all out there, and finally, for the first time in weeks, you feel peace again? Or an issue has been building at work, and the environment has become hostile, and when the conflict is addressed and managed, people learn and grow, and peace is achieved?

Conflict is necessary to find peace. Discomfort and division are often a step in the journey toward better life. A forest fire clears away the roughage and offers new seedlings a chance to survive, giving new life to the trees. Conflict, division, and fire: these things are necessary for change, for transformation, for development – and if there is one thing that Scripture and experience teach us, it is that God loves us too much to let us stay the same.

Let us pray: God of peace, God of division, God of transformation and God of love: We avoid conflicts and fires in our lives because they can be very painful. Grant us the courage to face them, and through them bring to the world and to each of us the hope of transformation and new life. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.