Monday, August 15, 2022

Sermon: Prince of peace, or King of conflict? (Aug 14. 2022)

 Pentecost 10C
August 14, 2022
Jeremiah 23:23-29; Luke 12:49-56, Hebrews 11:29-12:2

INTRODUCTION

Warning: if you are looking for comfort from today’s readings, I’m not so sure you will find it. Jeremiah will describe God’s word as both fire, and a hammer, breaking a rock into pieces. That’s a bit unnerving! But it gets worse – Luke shows us a Jesus who is stressed out, angry, or both, declaring that he came not to bring peace, but division, and wishing fire upon the whole lot. Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem at this point, where he knows his death awaits him. His teachings during this section of the Gospel are difficult and urgent, as he knows the end is coming. And today he seems to have a very short fuse; he even tells those gathered that he is stressed out. We will hear him describe a reality which, turns out, may feel very familiar to us, as we grapple with the immense division and hypocrisy we see in our own context. (Side note: do take his words as descriptive, not prescriptive. He is describing a reality, not predicting a future.)

Finally, a word about Hebrews. I mentioned last week that Hebrews as a whole is meant to encourage Christians who are discouraged in faith, and today will continue with that. This text is sometimes called the “Faith Hall of Fame,” as it recounts many of the faithful people you can find in the pages of scripture. If there is any obvious hope to be found today, you will hear it at the end of this text – in some of my favorite verses in scripture! 

As you listen to these difficult texts today, 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.

My kids love history. And so naturally, we have a children’s board book about all the US presidents. For each president there is a picture, the dates he served, and some fun fact about them. Some of the facts are very trivial and fun – like, Richard Nixon loved jellybeans, and some 40,000 jellybeans were consumed at his inauguration festivities. And some are more serious. For example, Ulysses S. Grant’s fact is that he believed sometimes war is required in order to bring peace.

This Grant fact came to mind as I was studying this week’s texts. They are not comforting texts, for the most part. And they seem out of place in a Gospel that began with Zechariah singing that Jesus was coming to “guide our feet into the way of peace,” and angels singing, “Peace on earth, goodwill to all!” With that in mind, Jesus’ tough words today come as something of a shock. “Do you think I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!” But… but, what about the angels? What about Zechariah’s song? Jesus stories like this do not sit well. Wouldn’t we all rather hear the stories about healing, and miracles, and all that compassion and mercy Jesus is so well known for? Wouldn’t we like to hear stories about how Jesus makes people’s lives better?

Ah, but you see… this is one of those stories. Jesus and Ulysses Grant are somewhat on the same page about this: sometimes in order to achieve lasting peace, we must first go through a period of great disruption, destruction, or pain. When I say peace, I’m not talking about the sort of peace that comes from denial, or avoidance, or dishonesty, or harmful accommodation. Those things may provide a quick, but fleeting peace for us, which is why we gravitate there (we can agree that closing the blinds and watching something funny on TV can be a helpful escape). But such tactics do not bring lasting peace for us, nor for God’s people more broadly. 

Now I know, Jesus’ delivery here does not really help us to receive his message as readily as we might otherwise. I don’t know about you, but when someone starts raging about bringing fire on the earth, I’m not likely to listen long enough to hear what comes next. But we know and love Jesus, right, so let’s take a look at both Jesus’ words, and with the aid of some of our other readings, try to make sense of this difficult message. 

First, let’s turn to Jeremiah. Jeremiah begins by discerning between false prophets, and the word of God, relating false prophets and their dreams to straw, and the Word of God to the more nourishing and substantial wheat. The two look similar, but only one feeds us. Today’s reading ends with the somewhat ominous, “Is not my word like fire, and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces?” Those are both very destructive images, on first reading, but also life-giving ones. Fire can be devastating, yes, but it can also be cleansing. It purifies. It burns away the brush so that new seedlings can grow. It burns away the roughage so that more sunlight can reach the forest floor. As for the hammer image, breaking a rock into pieces is powerful and threatening, but it is also a necessary step in building something new. 

So this all begs the question: do we let the word of God do this for us? Do we let Jesus burn away what keeps the light away from us, so that new things can grow? Do we let the word break apart our hardness, all those defenses we have put up, thinking they will keep us safe? Will we let Jesus burn away what is dead, so that life may flourish? Can the hammer of God’s word break apart our dependance on systems of oppression, our apathy toward thoughtless consumerism, and our indifference to suffering, so that we might instead have hearts full of compassion and mercy, love of neighbor and stranger, and care for the brokenhearted? Some things must die or be destroyed in order for the word of God to take root and grow, but we still cling so closely to what is familiar and comfortable for us, even if it keeps life and peace out of reach. Do we trust God to break in us what needs to be broken?

This image sheds some light on Jesus’ difficult words about him coming to bring division to the earth. Because if it wasn’t scary enough just for us personally to face the destruction and disruption of those things that set a barrier to peace, it is even harder when we realize how it affects our relationships. Truth-telling can be difficult to bear, and we push against it. Disinfecting a wound can cause stinging pain. But the peace that Jesus brings – by fire, or a rock-crushing hammer – will not hesitate to break in order to mend, to cut in order to heal. The Word will name what we don’t want named, and upset the protective shields and structures we have put in place, thinking they will keep us safe and comfortable. The Word will expose the lies we tell ourselves, and will upset all that would keep us from wholeness. 

To be clear, this text is not saying that Jesus wants us to suffer. What he is saying is that the path to peace must sometimes go through suffering to get to its final goal. No one knows that better than Jesus, who was beaten, was crucified, died and was buried, in order to bring about new life and resurrection joy. Yet too often, we choose just to avoid the suffering part, even if it means we never get to the peace – which, of course, is its own suffering! We put off the difficult but important conversations. We don’t speak against a situation that is literally killing people, preferring not to rock the boat. We think this is “keeping the peace” – but peace for whom? Is our avoidance resulting in greater suffering for others? I guess we must ask ourselves: are we more invested in comfort, or in salvation? 

We know that this is the pattern of our faith: that the path to new life and lasting peace must lead through suffering and death. The cross shows us this. Many of our own experiences reflect it. Yet still it can be hard to find the courage to do it. That is where Hebrews comes in. This list of faithful people, the “faith hall of fame,” recounts many exemplars of faith and the incredible feats they accomplished. But it also shows how difficult a life of faith can be. Faith has much to offer – grace, love, wholeness, and yes, peace – but it is also risky, and does not always guarantee our safety or comfort. Yet we can find great comfort in knowing that we are not alone in this effort, to live faithfully. “Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses,” the writer of Hebrews declares – a cloud of people from long ago and even from not so long ago, even people around us right now. We can look to this cloud of witnesses for the strength we need, the courage to persevere. “Since 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 our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, disregarding its shame…” Yes, the greatest strength of all comes from our source and our goal, Jesus Christ himself. He will guide our feet while we run this race. He knows about the division, and the suffering, and the pain. He knows about the shame. And, he knows about the peace and the glory that will come, as he has now “taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.” We, too, are headed for that peace and glory. Let us look to Jesus, and, upheld and surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us run with perseverance this race that is set before us – and we will, finally, be led into the way of peace.

Let us pray… Prince of Peace, we long to come by peace quickly and easily. But we know it was not easy for you. Surround us with a cloud of witnesses to give us the strength and courage to persevere toward the goal of peace, even when it leads us through the conflict and division we’d rather avoid. Make us confident that as long as you are involved, peace and new life will follow. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 


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