20 OT C ~ Lk 12: 49-53 ~ "Set the Earth on Fire~ Susan McGurgan, D. Min.

This reading seems jarring,

unsettling—

Frankly,

it feels as if it belongs in our headlines,

not our Gospel.

In fact,

given the ugly divisions of our world,

I am not sure I even want to read today’s gospel,

much less preach it.

Isn’t there enough pain?

Enough confrontation?

Enough division?

Enough fire?

Don’t we look to Jesus, and religion, and the Church

to be a balm and a comfort?  

To be a bandage for our wounds

and safe harbor from our fears?

Yet, Jesus declares:

"I have come to set the earth on fire,

and how I wish it were already blazing!"

He also states,

that contrary to what we might believe,

He has come NOT to bring peace,

but division.

This is a message

that ready or not,

invites a closer look,

even if we have to peek between our fingers

to do it.

It helps to remember that

in the Bible,

fire can be a symbol of destruction and pain.

But it can also be a symbol of purification,

passion,

presence--

Fire is a Sign Post,

marking the holy ground of God.  

Moses encountered Yahweh in the burning bush.

Elijah was swept up into heaven in a chariot of fire.

The disciples received the Holy Spirit

with tongues of fire dancing on their heads.

When Jesus speaks of setting the earth on fire,

I don’t think he is talking about destruction

simply for the sake of tearing down

and burning up.

Jesus doesn’t want to break things,

burn things,

destroy things

just because he can.

The fire Jesus wants to ignite

is the fire of transformation

fueled by the flames of change.

He is calling down the fire of purification

and setting up a forge,

to temper steel,

not hurling a Molotov cocktail

or gleefully punishing the damned.

Jesus wants to strike a match

to illuminate God’s active presence in the world.

Matt Skinner, a professor of New Testament says,

“Bad popular theology has done so much

to train congregations to hear Luke 12:49

as a description of a God with an itchy trigger finger

who just can’t wait to smoke some sinners.

As a result, people duck their heads

and wait until Jesus calms down

and a nicer passage comes along.

Isn’t the Parable of the Prodigal Son coming soon?”

Ducking our heads and hoping for the best

at first glance,

seems like a pretty legit reaction,

because even the most learned theologians struggle

with these passages,

and preachers--

preachers sit in their office on Tuesday afternoon

read about fire,

and destruction,

and division

and think….

“Maybe it’s a good Sunday to preach about

Ordinary Time,

or Going Back to School

or Vocations to the Priesthood and Religious life.”

But duck and weave how we will,

this Sunday, we are given fire.

And the language and images make us

Uncomfortable.  

Perhaps especially those who are

comfortable.

In charge.

Certain of their position in the world.  

For those of us who are privileged,

these images can be disturbing

and even frightening.

They signal a quantum change

that will demand a response.

This agenda of Jesus will overturn priorities,

values

choices.

In a conflagration, few things survive.

Precious artifacts,

beloved treasures,

even people can be lost.

But what if we view this passage

from another angle—

from the perspective of those who suffer;

from the point of view of the enslaved,

the poor,

the migrants who hunger for home,  

the youth who struggle with identity--

From that perspective,   

we might see this purging fire as something

necessary—and even welcome.

How much in our systems

and principalities

and ways of doing business must be destroyed

in order to rebuild them in justice?  

How much of our social order and economic system

must be purified,

tempered,

forged into something stronger and truer  

in order to create a world of peace?

Are we willing to be set on fire

by the love of Christ?

Are we willing to embrace

the change of heart and mind

He calls us to?

Are we ready, even if it means facing difficulty,

suffering, or division?

This fire of Christ is not a comfortable thing.

It requires a bold and courageous response.

This peace of Christ is not a simple thing.

It requires wisdom and patience and love.

For peace is more than avoiding conflict

or joining our hands in song.

The Peace of Christ disrupts sin,

challenges injustice,

calls us to radical hospitality.

The justice of Christ

may put us at odds with family and friends.

It may invade our comfortable hideouts.

It may overturn our routine

and dig ruts in our well-worn paths.  

Following Christ into the maelstrom  

will require clear eyes and firm purpose.

But Jesus wants to call us –

not to division

but to unity.

These divisions He speaks of are not of His making,

but ours.

The Gospel doesn’t force division,

but in choosing peace over privilege;

in siding with justice over comfort;  

in practicing hospitality rather than exclusion

we will inevitably create a dividing line

between those who live for the Kingdom

and those who live for themselves.

When the division comes,

it matters which side of the line we choose.

May we have the courage to stand with Christ,

who comes to set the world on fire!