Luke 12:49-56 – Intro
In Matthew’s gospel, in the
Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall
be called the children of God.”
And just a few chapters
later, in the same gospel, Jesus said to his disciples, “I did not come to bring peace, but a
sword.”
When we hear these two
quotes side by side we may be saying to ourselves,
“Would the real Jesus
please stand up.”
This morning we’re going to
hear Luke’s version of the latter quote.
The one that feels out of
place.
Here Jesus says, “Do you
think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather
division!”
Taken as a whole, this is
not an easy passage to hear or read.
In fact when I heard Emma
was going to be our liturgist today I emailed her to give her a heads up that
the scripture reading was a difficult one.
Even Andrea, our Office Administrator who creates our church bulletin, looked at the text I gave her to
print and said,
“Whoa, what’s up with Jesus
this week?”
But before we listen to
Emma read the text I want to draw your attention to the quote on the front of
the bulletin cover.
A verse we also find in the
gospel of Luke – it’s an excerpt from the song Mary sang while she was pregnant
with Jesus.
And Mary said, “My soul
magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior… He has brought down the powerful from
their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good
things, and sent the rich away empty… according to the promise he made to our
ancestors.” (Luke 1:46-55)
As we consider these words
that Mary sang about what God promised to do through her son – we might also ponder
how such a drastic change in our power structures might be accomplished without
a whole lot of people objecting and resisting and being less than peaceful as a
result.
The Rev.
Maureen R. Frescott
Congregational
Church of Amherst, UCC
August 18,
2019 – Tenth Sunday after Pentecost
Luke 12:49-56
“Divided We Stand”
When
I was in the 4th grade I had a teacher named Mrs. Rogo.
She
was one of the few lay teachers in our Catholic Elementary School where most of
our instructors were nuns.
Mrs.
Rogo was a soft-spoken gentle woman;
she
was caring and compassionate and she had seemingly endless patience as she
taught English, social studies, and math to our overcrowded class of 35
ten-year-olds. The
nuns, on the other hand, made me a bit nervous –
with
their starched habits and their stricter “don’t mess with me” demeanor - but I always felt comfortable around
Mrs. Rogo.
One
day we came in to Mrs. Rogo’s class to find brand new textbooks on each of our
desks.
It
was the mid-1970’s and in the spirit of the Metric Conversion Act, it had been
decided that we were all going to learn the metric system.
But
having spent most of our young lives learning about pounds, yards, and quarts -
measurements we could visualize just by stepping on a scale or imagining a
football field or looking at a carton of milk – try as we may,
the
unfamiliar names and numbers of the metric system just would not settle in our
heads.
For
weeks Mrs. Rogo went over the same chapters in the textbook,
again
and again, to no avail.
Finally,
one afternoon as she set us to work on yet another metric conversion assignment,
our kind, gentle and patient teacher reached her breaking point.
As
I struggled to complete my worksheet I could hear Mrs. Rogo moving up and down
the rows of desks looking at the children’s work and offering her disapproving
comments.
Finally
I felt her settle just over my left shoulder as my pencil hovered nervously over
the answer sheet.
I
had no idea what I was doing, so in a panic I wrote down a number,
any
number.
It
was most certainly not the right number, because before I knew what was
happening, kind, gentle Mrs. Rogo had grabbed me by my elbow, pulled me out of
my desk and dragged me up to the blackboard.
There,
with anger and frustration shaking her voice, she explained to the class once
again, the proper way to do metric conversions using me as the example of how
not to do it.
I
was mortified and terrified.
And
although years later I came to understand that teachers are human beings and
they have bad days and breaking points just like we all do,
In
my 10-year-old mind, my image of Mrs. Rogo as a kind, gentle, endlessly patient
teacher had been forever changed.
And
the comfort I once felt in her presence became tinged with shame and fear.
I
imagine that in light of the gospel text that we heard today, some of us may feel
the same way about our teacher, Jesus.
The
angry, divisive words that we hear come out of his mouth in this passage seem incongruent
with what we know about the man we call the Prince of Peace.
We
know Jesus to be a kind, loving, compassionate, peace-loving teacher who came
to bring harmony and balance to the world.
So
when the Jesus we encounter here talks about bringing fire down upon the earth,
bringing not peace but division…
setting
mother against daughter, and father against son…
It
just doesn’t make sense.
And
when Jesus goes on to call his followers hypocrites because they continue to
not understand what he’s been trying to teach them, we may feel chastised as
well.
It’s
as if he’s wrenched us out our seat and dragged us up to the blackboard in
frustration, because no matter how many times he’s explained his reason for
being here, we still don’t get it.
These
words - this behavior – they don’t FIT the profile of the Jesus that we’ve come
to know and love.
So
what do we do with this passage?
We
could choose to ignore it, like many modern day Christians do.
In
fact, while perusing some of my clergy social media groups this week,
I
was surprised to see how many pastors said they would not be preaching on this passage today.
They
expressed concern that this text may be too difficult for the people sitting in
the pews to understand.
Or that
it may be too disturbing for you to hear.
Or that
it requires a sermon that many felt would be too heavy or too long for a summer
Sunday in August.
Apparently
we check our brains at the door when the temperature rises above 80 degrees.
In
reality, pastors don’t like to preach on this passage because it makes pastors
uncomfortable as well.
The
ranting and raging that Jesus does here doesn’t fit our image of the kind, peace loving Jesus either.
So
when this passage from Luke comes up in the lectionary cycle, once every three
years, it’s tempting to just tell the congregation,
“You
know, Jesus is having a bad day today, he’s a little stressed out.
Why
don’t we pay a visit to Isaiah this week and see what he has to say,
and
then we’ll come back and check on Jesus next week.
Maybe
he’ll have calmed down by then.”
But
skipping over this passage because it makes us uncomfortable,
is
like skipping school on the day the teacher shares the one thing that is the
key to understanding what was taught during the entire year.
If
we skip over this passage, then we miss the point of the Gospel.
The
point of the Gospel is that God is inviting us to radically change our lives, and
our world.
And
while the GOOD NEWS is that these radical changes will ultimately benefit us
all….the not so good news is that we human beings don’t often do well with
change.
The
one thing that Jesus liked to talk about more than anything else was the coming
of the Kingdom of God.
A
new creation, a new earth, that God is calling us to help build –
a
new inclusive existence where the fruits of God’s unconditional love will be
received and shared equally by all.
This
is the world that Jesus’ mother Mary sang about in her Magnificat.
But
while the goal Jesus has set before us is to help build this peaceful,
inclusive
world,
we
can’t get there without experiencing an upheaval in our current world,
we
can’t get there without causing a shift in the structures of power,
we
can’t get there unless the marginalized are lifted up and the privileged take a
step down…
And
we know none of this is going to happen without conflict.
Because
there aren’t many who will let go of power and privilege willingly.
Jesus
tells us we can’t get to peace without first experiencing division.
Division
that will rise up between those pushing for change and those resisting it.
We’ll
experience division within nations, within communities, within churches, within
families.
And
the gospel itself will be the dividing force.
In
Jesus’ time, the nations stretching from Spain to Judea did experience peace,
but it was the peace of the Roman Empire, the Pax Romana.
For
centuries Rome kept the peace throughout this region of the world,
but
they did it by conquering and oppressing all who stood in their way.
The
nations were not fighting each other
because Rome had them all within its firm grasp.
This
was an outward peace that was held up by internal injustice and oppression;
this was not the kind of peace that
Jesus spoke of bringing.
This
was the kind of peace that he came to overthrow.
The
Gospel, the good news, the message contained in this seemingly innocuous book
that we read from every week to learn how to be good Christians, is the force
that Jesus deems strong enough to overturn an Empire.
This
book that tells us to be kind to each other,
and
to be caring and compassionate in all our interactions.
This
book that tells us that God loves us all equally,
and
that we are meant to share all that God gives us.
This
book that tells us that we are to love one another as we love God and
ourselves.
We
may find it hard to believe that this little book has the kind of power needed
to overthrow empires.
But
perhaps we’ve heard the Good News of the Gospel so many times, and seen so
little of it truly put into action,
that
we become understandably dismissive of its power.
We’ve
become comfortable with the words and the stories of Jesus, but in our desire
to maintain that comfort we often push aside the parts that make us
uncomfortable, or confuse us, or push us to challenge the parts of ourselves
that we’d rather leave untouched.
We
also may struggle to draw a connection between what was happening in Jesus’
world and what is happening in our world.
For
many, the gospel is not the Good News, it’s the Old News.
And
we have trouble seeing how the Gospel of Jesus, which was considered radical and
dangerous in the face of first century Judaism and the Roman Empire, can still be
considered radical and dangerous in the face of 21st century
individualism and the Empires we’ve built today.
As
a very frustrated Jesus pointed out to his disciples –
You
know when the clouds rise overhead that it’s going to rain,
and
when the south wind blows it will bring scorching heat,
you know how to predict the weather by what
you see around you,
but
you don’t know how to interpret this present time by trusting your experience
of what has come before.
Our
present time is rife with division.
Some
would say this is true of all human time.
But
when we see the signs of what has come before happening again,
we
seem to think that this time is different –
This
time the ways we find to dehumanize, exclude, and punish one another are
justified and civilized - so we
tell ourselves.
Two
thousand years after Jesus came to tell us this is NOT how God intends for us
to live, we still don’t get it.
So
it’s necessary for us to read passages like this one from Luke’s gospel to
remind ourselves that the Good News of Jesus is not all about being kind to
neighbors and being a good person or bringing comfort to ourselves.
It’s
also about bringing about a peace that can only happen by turning all that we
know upside down.
As
much as we love the compassionate and peaceful teacher we have in Jesus, sometimes
we need to encounter the frustrated and angry teacher -
Who
will pull us up out of our seat and drag us up to the blackboard –
To
move us out of our complacency and compel us to listen…
and
learn…
and
change.
The
reality is, we’re not going to change ourselves or the world in the drastic way
that God invites us to, not without God stepping in and making it happen.
It’s
beyond our human sized limitations to do such a thing, and we have too much of
a vested interest in keeping things that benefit us personally, just the way
they are.
But
that doesn’t mean we can’t look at that far off mark and do what we can to inch
towards it.
To
not sit back and stay silent in the face of injustice and oppression because we
fear conflict and division - but instead move towards it.
To
call it out and put our hearts and our bodies and our voices on the line for
those who can’t.
Knowing
that this is what the gospel calls us to do.
I
know this is not easy to hear.
And
this sermon may be too long or too heavy for a summer Sunday in August,
especially if you’re already feeling weighed down by whatever is on your heart.
But
whatever it is that is weighing you down, the Good News is that God is inviting
us all to imagine a world in which we can just let it go.
And
we are invited to help build that world one act of courageous love at a time.
Keeping
our beloved teacher, Jesus, alive in us.
Thanks be to God, and Amen.
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