Pentecost 10C (Proper 13)
August 18, 2019
Luke 12:49-56
INTRODUCTION
Question for
you: how many of you find comfort in your faith? … How many of you find comfort
in the words of Scripture? …
Yes, yes,
sometimes both of those things are indeed very comfortable, but if that’s the
case for you, I’ve got some bad news for you today… today’s texts are not so
comfortable. In Jeremiah, God says God’s word – the very word you just said
brings you comfort – comes like a fire, and like a hammer breaking a rock in
pieces. Not exactly what I’m looking for when I seek comfort!
But wait, it
gets worse. While we get a respite in our wonderful Hebrews text, which goes
through a litany of people of faith over the generations who have trusted in
God and culminates with this powerful statement: “Since we are surrounded by so
great a cloud of witnesses, let us run with perseverance the race that is set
before us, looking to Jesus!” … while that gives us a bit of courage, then we
get to Luke, where we’ll hear Jesus say these troubling words: “Do you think
that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather
division!” Now that is definitely not something that brings me
comfort!
Readings like
these can rattle us, but also, in naming a difficult reality, they can also
help us look more deeply at the struggles we face. So as you listen, lean into
these difficult words. Notice what they stir up in you. Notice how and why they
feel uncomfortable to you. And we’ll see what I can do in the sermon about finding
some good news to bring to that discomfort. Let’s listen.
[READ]
Grace to you
and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
When I do premarital counseling with couples, we always spend some
time on conflict resolution. I ask if they ever fight, and what it looks like
for them when they do, and if they ever saw their parents fight, and did they
ever see the resolutions of those fights. Whenever a couple answers, “Oh, we
never fight, and neither did my parents!” I see it as a big red flag! Though
it’s not entirely a surprise for someone to say that. We do spend a lot of
energy avoiding conflict, don’t we? There are certain topics that are
off-limits in polite company or family gatherings. Fighting happens behind
closed doors where the kids can’t hear it. We just do our best to all get
along, and not rock any boats. Conflict is best to be avoided.
But then along comes Jesus, who came to bring fire to the earth
and wishes it were already kindled, who talks of the divisions he will bring between
people who are supposed to love one another! For a society that celebrates
those who put out fires, and one that goes to great lengths to keep the peace
and be polite, these words from Jesus are pretty jarring! Where is the good
news?
When Michael and I 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. You see, for redwoods, 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 have actually threatened the trees’
survival, and now the National Park Service has had to begin controlled burns,
starting fires, forcing them 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 less threatening. 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 junk that
builds up in our hearts, all that stuff that keeps us from having a close
relationship with Christ – the negative self-talk, the distraction, the worry,
the focus on things and activities that are not of God. Jesus’ fire clears out
the rubbish and helps us focus on God. And, of course, it lets all those little
seedlings grow, and brings us new life – newness and transformation of our ways
that we may never even have noticed needed to happen, if a fire had not ripped
through our hearts.
Now, I think transformation like that is pretty good news, pretty
hopeful… but honestly, it doesn’t make the fire that Jesus is trying to kindle any
less scary, no less disruptive, no less dangerous. It sometimes leads to
difficult self-work, self-discovery, that can be painful for us, as well as for
those who have gotten used to us being a certain way, and now we are different.
Fire, and the change it causes, is wonderful and important, but also difficult
for all involved. In fact, as he says, this fire will cause division. This gets
into that 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 blaming ourselves. 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, aren’t we?
That must be why Jesus tells us that he has come not to avoid or
skirt conflict and division, but to bring
it about: he knows that as long as we avoid it, or stuff it deep down in
our hearts, we will not find true peace.
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, then 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 when Mary found out she was pregnant with Jesus, she sang a
song, in which she talked about how the high would be brought low, the hungry
filled and the rich sent away empty. That’s disruptive, table-turning stuff!
Then 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.” Well that sounds fine, good, even, 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? Do I want the oppressed to go free
if it means I can no longer get a pair of jeans for under $50? The people
listening knew how disruptive this was – it wasn’t too long after this sermon
that Jesus nearly got himself thrown off a cliff by an angry mob!
Jesus’ mission, you see, brings about change and, yes, 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 – in our families, in our work places, in our country. There has to
be. But after that conflict and
division, if we are able to look honestly and humbly at what happened and be
open to the transformation it can bring – that
is the time when true peace can be realized.
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: Transforming 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.
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