Pentecost 13C
August 17, 2025
Jeremiah 23:23-29; Hebrews 11:29-12:2; Luke 12:49-56
INTRODUCTION
Warning: if you were looking for some comforting, feel-good texts from scripture this morning, you may be disappointed by what you’re about to hear. God says in Jeremiah that God’s word – the very word we so often look to for 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. Hebrews goes through a litany of people of faith over the generations who have trusted in God but who never received what they were promised. Ugh.
Then we get to Luke, we will find a stressed-out Jesus on his way to his death in Jerusalem. He offers 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.
We are so excited today to be welcoming Andrew as our new music director! Andrew and I had lunch together this week and talked about some of the wonderful ideas he has for our music ministry here at St. Paul’s. I hope you’ll stay for the lovely coffee hour reception we have planned after worship to welcome him. What a great day, full of joy and celebration!
…Until… we read the appointed readings for the day. Upon reading them early this week, my heart sank. God’s word like a fire, like a hammer breaking rock. People of faith who lived difficult, courageous lives but never received what was promised. And Jesus, the very Prince of Peace, telling us, “Do you think I have come to bring peace to the earth?” Why yes, Jesus, yes I do. That’s literally what the angel said when you were born. That’s what your uncle Zechariah said about you. Peace is exactly what we were expecting! “No, I tell you, but rather, division!” Sigh, great. Like we needed more division in the world. This is not the set of texts I wanted to welcome Andrew, and frankly, it’s not ever a set of texts that feels very good to read any time, especially not in a world that is full of enough conflict and division.
Now feels like a good time to mention that not everything in the Bible is prescriptive, telling us how things should be or will be. Some texts, like these ones, are descriptive, telling us how things are. And I feel like we can get on board with that assessment. We don’t feel God’s peace as often as we’d like. We do know division, and conflict. We do feel broken, and burned, and like the promises for which we have been waiting and watching and living aren’t ever going to come. So in that way, these texts don’t offer the kind of comfort that says, “It’s gonna be fine, don’t you worry!” But they do offer the comfort of saying, “Yeah, life is sometimes hard, painful, divisive. It stinks. You’re not alone in feeling that. Humans throughout time have experienced it, too. And God loved them, and was with them, and Jesus died and rose for them, just like God does all that for you.”
Looking at it this way draws my attention toward this beautiful text from Hebrews. This passage is sometimes called the Faith Hall of Fame – a list of faith giants whose stories can be read throughout the pages of scripture. And to finish off this litany, the author gives us this powerful line: “Since therefore we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.” It is a long and dense sentence. Let’s break it down together.
“Since therefore we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses…” Ah, this is one of my favorite images in scripture. We are surrounded, on every side like a great cloud, by people who get us and guide us. This is the bit that reminds us that we are not alone in our struggles. The writer of Hebrews has just recounted the many challenges faced by people of faith, then says, “You see? You aren’t alone.” And boy, what a comfort that can be. Sometimes in our pain, that is just that we need – for someone to see us, for someone to recognize that it hurts, for someone to crawl down into the hole with us, not to tell us, “Don’t worry, stop crying, it’ll all be okay,” but rather, “I can see that you are worried and in pain. Know that you are not alone in this dark hole.” Part of the beauty of being a part of a communal faith like Christianity and the Church, not just an individual one with your own personal Jesus, is that we are assured that we do not have to go it alone. That cloud of witnesses extends also here today, sitting all around you. We are in this thing, this life, this struggle, together.
Next: “let us lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely.” This image of being burdened, and then unburdened, is also a powerful one. It can be tempting, can’t it, to let all our stuff, all our baggage, weigh us down, and make us want to give up or wallow or complain and never move. Who among us does not have baggage? Who among us does not carry regrets? It is a condition we all know so well. And so, Hebrews beckons us to put it down. We’re not perfect, and we won’t be able to live perfectly a life of faith. If you look closely at those “great” witnesses that get mentioned, among them you will find a prostitute, an adulterer, multiple murderers (including one who killed his own daughter), people driven by greed and power, people riddled with doubt and insecurity. They are not perfect, by any stretch. And neither are we.
So let us lay that aside, and do as Hebrews says next: “let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” You see, we are not perfect, and we don’t need to be – because Jesus is. Jesus perfects our faith. If we were already perfect, we would have no need for Jesus. It is Jesus’ love and grace that make us saints. It is Jesus’ resurrection that brings us life. It is not our own perfect running of this race, in which our shoes never come untied, our foot never catches on a hurdle, and we never shove another runner out of the way in order to get ahead. No, all those things will happen in this race or have already. But when we continue to set our sight on Jesus, who is the perfector of faith, then we will always know where we are going, despite how we may get disoriented, or how many times we may trip and fall. We can persevere because we look always to Jesus.
And finally, Hebrews describes what is so great about Jesus: “for the sake of the joy that was set before him [he] endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.” In other words, Jesus is the one who is willing to get down in that dark hole with us and our shame. Jesus is the one who is willing to go to the very depths of shame and pain for the sake of our redemption, our chance at healing, at finding wholeness and purpose and hope. He did that for us – and now, he sits at the finish line, having “taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.”
And that, that is something that can give us immense comfort: that even in the midst of inevitable division and brokenness, and poor decisions and regret, and conflict in families and in countries – even in the midst of all that, Jesus is waiting for us at the finish line, showing us where to go, pointing out the cloud of witnesses who surround us as we run with perseverance this race, finding us in whatever dark holes we dig ourselves or get thrown into, and telling us, “I know, life isn’t fair, and this is a really tough time. I have been there too. I have endured that shame, that pain. You are not alone, and you never will be. Now, follow me – the finish line is this way.”
So, maybe this is the perfect set of texts as we welcome a new staff member, and as we prepare to begin another school year, another program year. I suspect Andrew will hit some wrong notes this year (maybe he already has, though I’m sure none of us noticed!). I am certain I will at some point say the wrong thing, or not show up when or how I should have. I’m just as sure that you won’t be perfect in whatever you endeavor, and that all of us will feel the pain of conflict and division and brokenness. But more than that, I am sure that there is grace for that. I am sure that Jesus bears it with us, and perfects our faith by forgiving us, setting us on our feet, and pointing out to us once again the way toward love and hope and newness of life.
Let us pray… Pioneer and perfector of faith, you have surrounded us with such a great cloud of witnesses. Help us to lay aside every burden, and the sin that clings so closely, so that we could run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking always, always, toward you. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment