Into the Fire

A picture of All Saints Church after the fire of the late 1980s. It hangs on the kitchen wall at Homewood Fire Station #1.

© Seth Olson 2019

August 18, 2019—The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost—Proper 15 (Gospel Reflection Track)

Jeremiah 23:23-29
Psalm 82
Hebrews 11:29-12:2
Luke 12:49-56

Before I go any further I have to make a confession to you my friends, I love fire. Maybe I’m not technically a pyromaniac, but it’s close. I come by it honestly. When I was a child my mom signed me up to be an acolyte, but I took to it because I could play with fire. There at St. Andrew’s Birmingham as a high school student, I volunteered to be thurifer any chance I could because thurifers get to swing around fire as they waft the incense. For three summers I worked at a camp where I got to carry around torches, build bonfires, and play with campfires. Even now I have far too much fun with lighter fluid and charcoal. Two weeks ago though when my son Teddy turned two I saw another side of fire.

My family took Teddy and his cousins to Homewood Fire Station #1 where the wonderfully kind firefighters showed us around the firehouse, demonstrated how they get ready, and even let us explore the fire engines. While the kindness of the firefighters and the marvelous technology they possess stand out from that day, there’s a picture that remains even more memorable.

On the wall in the kitchen of the station there’s a stark black-and-white photograph. This photo has haunted me ever since I saw it. It showed this very nave after the destructive fire of the late 1980s. As sunlight shone in from the holes in the roof, several inches of water flooded the floor making kneelers look like little rafts in the ashy liquid. When I saw that picture my gut knotted up and I felt the overwhelming fear that fire can kindle.

Herein lies the dilemma with fire, it provides light, warmth, and a means to sustenance, but it can also burn us, ruin property and even destroy lives. So when Jesus harnessed some fiery language in today’s Gospel lesson we would be wise to carefully examine his words. What was Jesus saying here? Was he illuminating us or burning us?

If we cherry pick just a few phrases from today’s lesson, we get pyro-Jesus. He catches the earth on fire, divides us, and calls us hypocrites. You might want to duck and cover when you hear this Jesus coming. I know I do. I preached on this set of readings three years ago, and I completely dodged this Gospel lesson because of its fire-filled nature. Today, I’m just foolish enough to get burned. These phrases about fire, division, and hypocrisy are not it—they aren’t all that is here. They do catch our ear though.

Many of us have a vision of a smiling, storm-calling, lamb-holding Jesus, so when we hear such strong language coming from God’s Son, we do a double-take. This rhetoric is nothing new though. For the past three chapters in Luke’s telling of the story, Jesus has grown more intense. And, can you blame him? As he put it in verse 50, “I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed!” Jesus had turned toward Jerusalem and he clearly saw that his ministry led him directly to death—hence the great stress. As he anticipated this baptism of fire, something John the Baptist foretold very early in Luke, Jesus warned us of the perils of following him. Last week we heard of these dangers too.

In that passage from the same chapter, Jesus urged his followers to store treasure in heaven and to be ready for the Son of Man coming. In the story which lay between last week’s and this week’s lessons, Peter wondered whether Jesus’ warnings were for the disciples or for the larger crowd.

Instead of a direct answer, Jesus told a parable about continued watchfulness, and he backed it up by saying something that has made its way into our day-to-day language, as the phrase “To whom much is given, much is tested.” This section in total informs a different depiction of Jesus than a mellow, backwater carpenter. But, returning to today’s passage, I still wonder, why was Jesus so fiery?

Unfortunately, some of our fellow Christians have used passages like today’s to preach turn-or-burn style messages. Make no mistake, Jesus was speaking of decisions of paramount importance. And yet, today’s message is not about the eternal flames of hell. This fire is a refining one.

As Jesus drew nearer to the Cross and death, his message became clearer regarding the consequences of following him. A person back then who belonged to a traditional Jewish household who chose to follow Jesus would put herself at odds with the rest of her family. Or, a Roman soldier who decided to walk in the way of Christ would create a firewall between himself and his brothers-in-arms. Today’s fiery language was a way for Jesus to slap a warning label upon discipleship. “This will cost you,” Jesus seemed to say, “Maybe not your life, but possibly some of the most important relationships in it.” So on what are we risking our lives or at least our relationships?

To understand why someone would be willing to threaten such important things in following Jesus, we must first understand the core characteristic of Jesus and in turn His Heavenly Father. We do not explicitly find that attribute in today’s Gospel lesson. We see the consequences of it, but not the reason. We do however find the trait in today’s Psalm.

Psalm 82, according to one scholar, is the most important text in the entire Bible—because it shows us who God truly is. The most important characteristic of God is not infinite power. It’s not omnipotence. It’s not even immortality. So what is it?

In this ancient hymn, we discover that God’s most fitting trait is justice. God is always just! God fights against all the cosmic forces in the council of heaven who judge unjustly. God renders unjust all these other "gods" because they show favor to the wicked, fail to save the weak and the orphan, and abandon the humble and the needy. In the most epic cosmic aside of all time, God sighs and says, “They do not know, neither do they understand; they go about in darkness.” Talk about a burn! But, what’s the result?

All of these would-be-gods are not God because they are unjust. As a result, they are cast down from their perch in the council of heaven. They become like “any prince.” Now, we aren’t polytheistic and this clearly shows a less developed view of God than we are accustomed to in our Judeo-Christian worldview, but the point of this Psalm is nonetheless clear. God does not stand for injustice. And, if the prayer we pray most often is any indication, we want God’s reign to happen on earth as it is in this heavenly vision. Therefore, we too must oppose injustice. And that is the theme that ties together all four readings for today.

Jeremiah stood up to false prophets who made God’s people forget God’s name. In the Psalm, God cast out of heaven all forces which perpetuated unjust ways. In Hebrews, those exemplars of faithfulness, including people who were not always just in the eyes of the world, persevered in faithfulness running toward God’s justice as their prize. And this brings us back to our fire-filled Gospel lesson.

Jesus’ radical teaching of God’s justice was in and of itself divisive. When someone speaks a challenging word to us we may draw closer or we may run in the other direction. This was the case with Jesus. When he spoke the hard truth that God’s way means putting the needs of the poor, the weak, the orphan, the humble, the lowly, the foreigner, the exploited, the forgotten, and the other above our own, it created division. This truth caused some to feel burned while those left out in the cold finally felt warmth.

What about today? What about us? Is Jesus illuminating or burning us?

Well, it may be both.

A few years ago I was driving out in New Mexico through Bandelier National Monument. The Forest Service had recently conducted a controlled burn through part of the park. Some of the grounds were still smoldering. Other sections had been burned several months earlier. As I drove a van full of usually boisterous college students through the burnt forest, everyone fell silent. The same sort of internal hush that I felt when I saw the picture of All Saints in the fire station. In that burned over forest though there were sprouts of green. These ultra-green sprigs rose from the ashes.

Our lives may very well be like that forest. And Jesus’ word may very well be like that fire. Healthy sections may grow without ceasing. Other parts may need to be singed or burned to grow into God’s grace. God’s fire though is not meant to end our lives. Rather it leads us into new life. 

Following Jesus will challenge us. It should come with a warning label: "May impact your relationships." But as we shift from “my will be done” to “thy will be done.” Jesus calls us to pursue God’s justice, loving our neighbor as ourselves, and as we do, God’s fire will refine our lives leaving new patches of growth everywhere.

How Do We Preach Division?

Preaching on the weather (and James Spann) would be much easier than preaching on this set of readings.

There’s a whole lot in this week’s readings worth noting: Jeremiah sounding off against false prophets, God striking down false gods in the council of heaven, the writer of Hebrews challenging readers to run the race of perseverance, and Jesus revealing his pyromaniac side. Given we encounter a feisty and fiery Jesus what’s a preacher to do? I believe a helpful place to start is Jesus’ last question.

“You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?” Everyone can talk about the weather—it’s a universally acceptable topic of conversation. I particularly love conversing about clouds, storm systems, and barometric pressure, but I’m the guy who has four weather apps on my phone. My sweet sister gifted me a couple of the expensive ones because she wanted to make sure I’m weather aware—and boy am I! I’ve got the same radar that James Spann uses, and I can carry it around with me everywhere I go. I know which way the wind is blowing, have alerts for all types of severe weather, and even know when it’s going to start raining minutes before it happens. So, I feel pretty good about answering Jesus, “Yes I know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky—or at least my app developers do.” But, the trouble comes in the second part of his question (I can’t seem to escape an impassioned Jesus). Why do you not know how to interpret the present time?

Why do I not know how to interpret the present time? Good question! The more I think about the present moment though, the more confused I get. It’s not to say that it wasn’t complicated 2,000 years ago. Especially since Jesus turned his face toward Jerusalem in Luke 9:51 the drama has heightened but the world around Jesus became more delineate, more black and white. And, this Sunday we hear Jesus drawing or perhaps burning a line in the sand. Those listening were challenged to make a decision, but it wasn’t turn or burn like we might be thinking (more on the type of fire in a moment).

The early followers of Jesus would have offended their parents or children or neighbors, as they sided with Jesus instead of other worldviews. Those times were certainly divisive, and with hindsight and bias we judge which side we would choose to join. What about today though? A good sermon this week might highlight the challenges we face in our current divisive age.

Right now appears even more divided than any other time—including Jesus' own. We can see people’s opinions instantaneously on social media. When we do we can simply unfriend or unfollow those people with whom we disagree. We can watch our chosen brand of 24-hour news to further hammer home how right we are—and how wrong everyone else is. People can even quit going to a church if someone in the pulpit or the pew says something they don’t like. But, take any hot-button issue and try to interpret a peaceable solution and life will get quite complicated quite quickly. I don’t mean that people cannot figure out what they think about given issue—or what side to choose. No, I mean that all of us are struggling to coalesce and find consensus. It feels impossible to arrive at solutions where all are heard, respected, and satisfied with the result.

Experiencing the log-jammed nature of today helps me to understand Jesus’ frustration in this week’s Gospel lesson. A helpful sermon might speak of fire (told you I'd come back to it). Fire not as a way to scare people into choosing heaven over hell, but rather as a way to burn away that which does not fall in line with God’s will. Jesus used this image of fire to illuminate how God refines us. Jesus was rifting on the same image that Jeremiah used several centuries earlier. This might be another good jumping off spot for a sermon.

Jeremiah was tired of hearing the false prophets of his own day. These errant teachers were claiming that they had dreams from God, so that they could benefit themselves. This is not unlike some infamous televangelists who use hapless viewer’s charity to buy private jets or mansions. Jeremiah could not condone any of these nightmarish dreams which led God’s people astray.

A compelling dream and a flashy sales pitch can make people fall for just about anything. In this case it could even make God’s people forget God’s name. However, even more powerful than the false prophet’s dream is the Word of God. The Word of God can burn like a dividing fire and split open like a rock hammer. Still in both the Gospel lesson and here in Jeremiah we may not understand what is at stake along these dividing lines, as we experience the fiery word of God, which is where this week’s Psalm comes in handy. Again, another good sermon departure point.

Often I overlook the Psalmody in my sermon prep. They’re just old songs, right? Yes, but even though we often read them and move on these hymns cover the gamut of human experience from lamentation to ecstasy, from birth to death, from history to the end times. And, this week's psalm has a direct way of depicting who God truly is.

In Psalm 82, we are placed in the council of heaven, a common concept in the Ancient Near East—including ancient Israel and Judah. Here, YHWH or the Most High God was holding all others that were not the Most High God accountable. God took a stand against all forces not God. God took this stand because these other forces were judging unjustly. We might wonder what is the most important characteristic that makes God… well… God. Is it omnipotence? Is it infinite power? Is it immortality? What is it?

Psalm 82 responds to those questions in an unexpected way to me. All those forces in the council of heaven were cast down out of the realm of the immortal because they were... wait for it... unjust. God's most critical component here is not omnipotence, power, or immortality. It's justice! These others were showing favor to the wicked, not saving the weak and the orphan nor defending the humble and needy. They were not rescuing the weak and the poor, nor delivering them from the power of the wicked. And in a great cosmic aside, God said, “They do not know, neither do they understand; they go about in darkness; all the foundations of the earth are shaken.” In other words, these others go about in ignorance and haphazardly shake the very foundation of creation with their injustice. As a result of not living into the justice that God intended, they were cast out of this celestial realm.

Now my fellow preacher, justice is a powerful word to throw around from the pulpit. When I say justice everyone can nod their head and in other parts of the Jesus Movement people might even say “Amen!” to such a profound word. However, there’s a problem with this word. When I say justice there are as many different concepts of what that looks like as there are people in the pews. So, let me elaborate on this term using the vision that God sets forth here in Psalm 82 and also in Luke’s Gospel account.

Justice sides not with the wicked—i.e. anyone who takes advantage of the poor—but rather God’s vision of justice saves the weak and the orphan, defends the humble and needy, rescues the weak and the poor, and delivers them from those who would exploit them. And this theme, this vision of justice isn’t simply present here in Psalm 82, it’s also what Luke has been building towards throughout his entire story of Jesus.

Three canticles at the start of Luke portray this vision. Zechariah, John the Baptizer’s father, sang of this justice when he spoke of being delivered out of the hands of enemies and into freedom by God’s mercy. Simeon shared of this justice through the release for all of God’s people that he saw in the coming of the Christ child. And Mary most pointedly praised God’s justice as she sang, “He has shown the strength of his arm, he has scattered the proud in their conceit. He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.” This is the vision of justice that God makes known to us, but what does this mean to us? And how can we preach when we and our congregations are often proud, mighty, and rich? I don't have a good answer for this, which is why I'm still working on my sermon.

There is a dilemma set forth in this week’s texts. Jesus touches on a nerve that Jeremiah experienced in his day, and we feel in our own. Jesus points to divisions that arise when we have to choose something paramount over something important. What happens when the stakes are raised to this level?

I believe we find the most profound truth in the psalmist's words. God is not God if God is unjust. And we in turn are not God’s people if we are perpetuating injustice. We are called to persevere just like that great cloud of witnesses persevered in the letter to the Hebrews. Our perseverance as preachers is difficult. For calling out injustice in our congregations and in our world must be done with a pastoral heart. And first Jesus’ fiery, cutting language must convict us as followers of Christ, so that all which does not fall in line with God’s will burns away. How do we preach division? First, we must allow God's refining fire to unite our true selves with Christ.