Jesus
says a very striking thing in today’s Gospel Lesson. He says,
I came to bring fire to the earth.”
Now why in the world would Jesus say such a
thing? How do you reconcile this with the Gospel message of love and
reconciliation?
The
answer maybe as simple as this. If there is any fire at all, fire happens
in dry conditions. It is a fire hazard that is most susceptible to the
slightest, smallest flame. I want to suggest to you this morning that the
world to which Jesus practiced his ministry was already a spiritual
fire hazard before he ever got there. You see, the world that Jesus found
was not the way God had originally made it. What did God make in the
beginning? It was called a Garden, wasn’t it? Lush green fruitful tress,
a rich wilderness teeming with wildlife and promise--an environment where
spark or flame would find it very difficult to catch let alone consume.
Jesus
came to a world that had tried to go its own way for so long that most of
the vast resources of God’s creation which had been sufficient for all
were now the prize possessions of the very few. Many had made themselves
very comfortable. Jesus came to a world where so many had looked out for
themselves for so long that so many others were left out, even left out of
the community of faith. Purity laws, traditions of table fellowship,
tithing requirements, even Sabbath prohibitions placed such burdens upon
everyday folks that a barrier between creation and its Creator, a barrier
of human making, prevented reconciliation and relationship. Jesus found
such emptiness. He came to a world that was suffering through a long
period of spiritual drought. Everything was so desperately dry—it was
literally a spiritual fire hazard. The signs of it were everywhere as
plain as the dark clouds in the west that signal a coming storm, but they
just couldn’t see it—they just could not interpret the present time.
Now I
think you’ll understand when I say to you that sometimes Jesus ministry
was like a gentle rain on the spirit of the world, refreshing and
replenishing so many parched lives. At other times Jesus ministry was
more like a violent storm complete with booming thunder and strikes of
lighting. Now Jesus did do some very provocative things—overturning
moneychangers’ tables and driving the sellers from the Jerusalem temple
with whips. He called the Pharisees hypocrites. But I think most of the
time the gentle rain of Jesus’ ministry among the poor, the outcast, the
sinner was often in itself enough to raise storm clouds of thunder and
lightning among the comfortable and the privileged. Even his smallest act
of kindness caused such controversy:
--healing on the Sabbath when that act was considered to be work
which was a Sabbath prohibition;
--curing a leper of his disease: you’re not supposed to have
anything to do with lepers;
--granting the simplest of social courtesy to the unclean and
sinners, —the same social courtesy he granted to
the leader of the synagogue.
Jesus’ gentle rain refreshing the poor, the outcast, the sinner comes down
hard upon the religious leaders and privileged. The world was a spiritual
fire hazard. When everything is dry it just catches fire and burns. So
you see, Jesus is not so much a spiritual arsonist as he is a catalyst for
change. Whether the change Jesus’ ministry brings is like a gentle rain
or like a fierce lightning storm often depends on whose lives are
changing.
So what
about this world today? Are you and I immersed in an environment today
that is a spiritual fire hazard? It should almost go without saying this
morning that the culture in which we live is so empty, so spiritually dry,
so susceptible to the slightest flame of truth or justice, that we live in
a world that is no less a spiritual fire hazard than the one Jesus
encountered. We indeed have made ourselves very comfortable here.
We tolerate so many things. Two-thirds of the world live in poverty. We
value people based upon their possessions, on their status in life, on
their race, not on their intrinsic worth as children of God. What counts
in this culture is what money can buy and the more of it you can
accumulate the better. We still look out for ourselves; we still go our
own way; we really don’t trust God for we cling too tightly to our things,
our possessions, for our security. Yes, we have made ourselves very
comfortable. We have accommodated ourselves very well, so well in fact
that we can’t see the signs either. We can’t interpret the present time.
We fait to read and understand the great big signs posted all around our
culture—signs put there by God; signs that read:
Danger! Spiritual Fire Hazard!
It is when you are perfectly comfortable and at ease living right in
the middle of a fire hazard that you are most susceptible to getting
burned. Jesus was not a spiritual arsonist just running around setting
fires everywhere. No, Jesus was a catalyst for change—change is difficult
for the comfortable; those who are suffering long for it.
So
where do you go? What do you do when you finally realize you’re right in
the middle of a fire hazard and the fire is drawing ever closer? What
have you done? Well, you have come to the church. The church is the one
place in this culture that knows the truth
That can see the signs clearly
That knows how to interpret this present time.
The church is the firebreak in the midst of a consumer culture that is
literally consuming itself. But more than that, the church is the first
planting of a new creation, a creation God has promised to fully restore.
What
does the church do in the middle of a spiritual fire hazard? Well, in the
church Jesus gathers the lonely, the distressed, the suffering, and the
comfortable: you. In the church Jesus ministers to you; Jesus changes
you. Depending on where you are, what your need is, his ministry comes to
you like a refreshing gentle rain in your suffering or a striking
lightning storm in your ease.
So what
about you? How do you experience the change that Jesus brings? Is it a
gentle rain or more like a lightning storm? Well, if you are like me,
often it is both. It is when I am most distressed by the suffering around
me, the injustice in the world, that his ministry to me becomes a
refreshing gentle rain blessing my prayers for the less fortunate and
leading me to personal acts of mercy and justice. And when I fall prey to
the luxuries, the comforts, the abundance of this culture his ministry
strikes me to the heart, jarring me out of my comfortableness, sparking
again passion in me for the poor and concern for others. Is that what
it’s like for you? You see, Jesus never stops working on you. He is
always changing you, refining you, restoring you. That’s because he loves
you. So in the church you are baptized, confirmed, and, at his table,
share his body and blood. Jesus never stops changing you and by his grace
you grow more and more to be like him and we together more and more become
what we are: the Body of Christ.
Jesus
brings fire. Why in the world does he do such a thing? Fire burns,
especially when things are very dry. Fire is dangerous and
unpredictable. Fire can destroy everything in its path. When God catches
fire in a spiritual fire hazard what prevents God’s justice and holiness
from consuming all that is unjust and unholy? How do you ever survive?
Long
before you were baptized Jesus spoke of his own. Hear what he says:
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.
You see, Jesus’ ministry did not simply cause controversy, it made him
some enemies. Every time Jesus reach out to the poor and outcast with his
gentle rain the religious leaders were scorched by his lightning! Those
who received his ministry as a storm of change they simply could not
tolerate sought to kill him. In dry conditions something always gets
burned. Upon the cross the fire that singed the Pharisees completely
consumed your Lord. That same fire of God’s justice and righteousness
that should rightly consume everything in creation that rejects God took
Jesus’ life. Over three days that fire burned until the morning of the
first day of the week. In Jesus’ resurrection from the dead the fire that
would consume creation now refines, refines as fire does fine gold,
changing those who entrust themselves to God.
There
is no doubt about it. No less than at the time of Jesus we live in a
world posted everywhere with the signs of God warning of a spiritual fire
hazard. It is to this world that Jesus comes bringing change. When Jesus
come to you, does it feel like gentle rain or a fierce lightning storm?
Do you welcome the change—a change you’ve been praying for for a long time
or do you resist it for it requires too way much of you? Well, what do
you do? Where do you go when you finally realize you are living right in
the middle of a fire hazard and the fire is drawing ever closer? I have
good news for you. You are exactly where you need to be right now. For
you have come to the church. You are baptized. Here Jesus’ gentle rain
eases your suffering and relieves your distress. Here Jesus’ fire never
consumes but refines. Jesus, you see, never stops changing you and by his
grace you grow more and more to be like Him and we together more and more
become what we are: the Body of Christ.
