Sunday, August 18, 2013

Fire in the Kingdom

Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost - Proper 15 – Year C
August 18, 2013
Luke 12:49-56

[Jesus said:] "I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed! Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! From now on, five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three; they will be divided:
   father against son
     and son against father,
   mother against daughter
     and daughter against mother,
   mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law
     and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law."

He also said to the crowds, "When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, 'It is going to rain'; and so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, 'There will be scorching heat'; and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?"

One of the central elements of our faith, of our very worship service is peace.  We declare Jesus as the Prince of Peace.  When Jesus appeared to his disciples, his first words were peace.  If we look to the first few verses of almost every single letter from Paul we see peace being extended to his readers.  Every Sunday we take the time to share the peace of Christ with one another.  We talk about the peace of God that passes all understanding.  We take comfort in the peace that comes from having a personal connection with our God and our Savior.  Peace is part of our identity; and just when we think we have a pretty good idea about the importance of peace in our lives, we run into this passage from Luke where Jesus himself tells his disciples that he didn’t come to bring peace.

There have been many different ways in which people have sought to understand this passage.  Probably the most popular is that the expectations that God places on you when you come to faith in him put a strain on the existing relationships between the believer and the non-believer.  This interpretation that a barrier of some kind is erected between Christians and non-Christians is common.  I’ve heard it referred to many times: from casual friendships, to close connections, from work colleagues to our spouses.  Yet, so often it seems like the divisions that are created by our Christian faith are between different persons of faith, different traditions, different denominations than between the believer and the non-believer.

When I think back, when I look at my life I see more times when my strongly held perspective on faith and theology put a greater strain on my relationship with other people of faith than my relationship with those who didn’t express faith of any kind.  Think about it, how many super strong arguments have you gotten into with an atheist?  How many heated discussions have you gotten into with another Christian?  I think you’ll agree with me that the number of divisive situations is far greater on the believers side of the page.

Divisions in families within Christianity are probably more common than you think.  Think about your own families.  Are you able to talk about your church and your faith around the Thanksgiving dinner table without things getting really uncomfortable?   I don’t know about you, but my holiday dinners are sometimes rather tense.  My family is divided by denominational and social issues.  My parents and my brother are Lutheran to their core.  My parents are conservative Lutherans.  I sometimes joke that my father is more Lutheran than Luther himself.  My leaving of the Lutheran Church will probably always be a very sore subject for my parents.   We disagree on many things, some of them seem petty at times, and others seem much more serious. 

We all know that from one generation to another there are differences.  I don’t do things the same way my parents did, and I’m sure my children will do things differently than me.  We don’t think about things in the same way, we approach problems and issues in different ways.  We have different ideas about how the world works, or should work.  And that’s okay.  There is nothing wrong with differences.  If it wasn’t for differences of opinion, for differences of understanding we would have never moved forward as a society.  I’m sure that the first person who decided to jump on a horse was considered an idiot (especially since the horse probably threw him right off), yet that person’s difference of opinion regarding horses was the beginning of a change in the way we traveled as humans.  The generation that preceded him thought about horses in a different way, and I’m sure there were some rather heated discussion around the campfire.  And speaking of campfires, think about the first person to look at fire and think about harnessing it.  Without fire where would we be?

And it is fire that Jesus brings to the earth.  I wish Jesus had explained a bit more about the fire he was bringing because fire by itself is multifunctional – but perhaps Jesus’ fire is also to be used in different ways.  Fire by itself is neutral, neither something to be feared or something to be praised.  Yet, in context, when it is given purpose it also takes on positive or negative connotations.  If you were camping, having a small campfire outside your tent would be desired for its warmth, for how you could use it to warm yourself.  Yet, if you were camping, and the woods around you were on fire that would not be a desired thing.  Fire can be destructive, its power to destroy is virtually unmatched.  The hotter the fire, the more complete the destruction.

Fire can also bring new life with its passing.  Civilizations around the world have used controlled burning to clear fields, to renew the ground that new growth would occur.  From time to time the land would be burned, and in so doing nutrients and chemicals would enter the soil, the earth would be cleansed, and new life would emerge.  The phoenix rises from its ashes reborn.

Before the days of alcohol and sanitizing aids, people would clean their surgical instruments in flame.  I still remember how my mother would sterilize the needle in the flame of a candle before working the splinter out of my finger.  The flame killed the bacteria that could have otherwise lead to infection.  People have cauterized wounds for centuries because of how the heat of fire aided the body in healing.

When I worked in the jewelry industry we used fire and flame constantly.  Fire is used to refine.  Its heat melts the gold, freeing the contaminants from it, burning off the chaff so to speak, and leaving behind that which is more pure, and more valuable.  Fire is needed to melt the gold so that it might be formed and reformed into its desired shape and form.

In the Bible, we also see fire serving in many ways.  It was used to represent “the presence of God -- think pillar fire in Exodus (13:17-22) and the tongues of flame at Pentecost (Acts 2:1-4). It can also represent eschatological judgment -- in Revelation, Satan and his army are consumed by fire (20:7-10). Fire also represents purification -- Zachariah (13:9) and Malachi (3:2-3) each refer to God's intention to purify Israel like a refiner purifies silver by fire.[1]
               

In the New Testament, there is another activity that is described as bringing with it both purification and judgment: baptism.  Baptism is connected to fire in the New Testament, and in our lives.  We speak of the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and the coming of the Holy Spirit coming like a fire.  The coming of the Spirit, and the waters of baptism, both point to an event when God is seen to be powerfully active in the life of a person.  The fire of faith comes and consumes and gives us the power to do things that we didn’t think we could ever do.  It also forces us to look at our lives, and the lives of those around us – and it might very well cause divisions.

The divisions that Jesus speaks of are the result of the purifying fire of God.  Jesus comes and declares that he is not here to bring peace, but division.  Yet, his message was not one of division, it was announcing the Kingdom of God.  The Kingdom of God, the Reign of God, the new reality, the desires of God that Jesus announced was based on forgiveness of others and not on the power of one over another, it was based in courage and not in fear,  it was based on humility and not on personal power.  It was a new reality.  Yet, those who were comfortable I the old reality, those that were in ruling positions, those who were fans of wealth, of power, they saw the risk of the coming Kingdom and fought against it – because its coming spells an end to the life they love.  Jesus did indeed announce peace, but as we all know, there is no profit in peace for those in power.  And profit (or the lack of it) creates division even in the most basic of human relationships: that of the family.

The calling of the new life in the Kingdom is both its promise and its challenge.  It can be bring both peace and unease, unity and division.  It can be frightening to step out in faith against the ways of the world, against the powers that be that desire the world to continue as it is.  But our fear, our discomfort can made less when we look to Jesus and we see that he who come to announce the Kingdom was its first victim.  He experienced harm, that in his pain we might know healing.  He experienced judgment, that in his trials we might know pardon.  He suffered death on the cross, that in his dying we might know life.  The call of the Kingdom is not easy, yet looking to Jesus we can discover the courage, the fire, to live in the Kingdom – even with the division it brings.  In so doing we join ourselves with the church, and with people of faith throughout time, and rise from the ashes of the world that is into the glory of the Kingdom to come.  Amen.
           

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