August 14, 2016

Susan Adams

Ordinary 20     Isaiah 5:1-7     Luke12:49-56

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“I don't know how to preach this stuff,

I don't know how to preach this stuff.”

“I don't know how to preach this stuff”, I found myself saying despairingly through clenched teeth after reading the lessons set for today.

“I don't know how to preach this stuff” were the words coming out of my mouth as my eyes filled with tears. “Why me again?”

Why can't the gospel be what is says – good news?

How come I draw the dark and troublesome passages?

Surely the world is a tough enough place for us humans to live in, what with war and violence, upheaval and deprivation, extremes of wealth and poverty, and climate extremes bringing floods and drought – searing heat and freezing cold.

It seems to be spiralling out of control on many fronts at the moment.

Surely we could do with words of comfort and hope right now?

And I sat crying – at the mess our world seems to be in; at the uncomfortable Bible readings set for today that I was trying to face up to; and with my mentor’s admonishment to 'preach the gospel' and not to skip the bits that I don't like, ringing in my ears. I was a bit of a sorry mess!

Then Jesus words in John 14:25 came to mind “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” Where is that peace you promise? How can I find it?

And what began to take shape seemed so counter-intuitive, so upside down, that I couldn't think any more and put away my books.

I am still searching for that peace that Jesus promised his followers: ‘the peace that passes all understanding’ that the church blesses us with week by week. But from the murk of my distress emerged the clear sense that this peace will not be an absence of unrest, nor an absence of stress, nor a quiet and calm restfulness with no disagreements or unreasonable expectations or rivalry – it won't even in a sort of polite tolerant tension. Rather, it seems to me, it will be peace that comes from a deep down knowing that I have done my best to be faithful to the baptismal call that has pursued me all my life. That call which invites each of us to be a servant of God – a 'servant of justice' as Isaiah says.

To be a 'servant' such as this leads directly to the peace we long for but which is only to be found in the counter-intuitive demands of the gospel.

But, I must say quickly, in case you hear a self-righteous settling into interior satisfaction, or self-righteous individual certainty about what is 'right', that God's ways of justice and peacemaking to which we are called to commit ourselves to as 'servants' may well require upheaval of the very things we feel most secure about and look to for our greatest support. We only have to read the stories in the gospels about the dislocation, confusions and misunderstandings, of the disciples and the others who sought to follow Jesus to get a picture of the discomfort and upheaval that could occur.

Remember: My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives. (we should anticipate is will be different from our expectation!)

And, of course, there is the troubling verse in today's gospel to further shake our expectations: “I came to bring fire to the earth …. Do you think I came to bring peace to the earth? No I tell you, but rather division.”

Luke's Jesus doesn't just head to the seat of political and religious power to turn things upside down and make change – we are used to hearing about that, about the journey to Jerusalem and the confrontation with political leaders and temple leaders.

Luke's Jesus confronts the very heart of the community, the core structure, the place of safety and security – he confronts the family!

No more could families and family loyalty and the maintenance of harmony be an excuse for not seeing what needs to be done to bring justice; no more could the excuse of 'my family needs and wellbeing' be used to avoid getting involved.

Family is being dethroned from its right to make unconditional claims on us.

Even here, in the family, the challenge to change our ways is being made. It seems every place is to be unsettled by the demands for love and justice-making that will bring life, peace and hope to people both in our family and beyond our own familial circle. It seems all the certainties – family, tradition, culture, religion and political power – are to be turned upside down.

The writer of today's Gospel, Luke as he is known, (writing late in the first century or, perhaps, in the first decade of the second century as some contemporary scholars think), lets us know that the world of that time was not all calm and tension free – it was not a place of unity of belief and practice – no matter what we would like to think! It was a difficult place: Christians were persecuted by non-Christians, and they argued between the amongst themselves. We are still arguing about our differences today as we are only to painfully aware – and it may always be that way.

• But, it isn't peace that is at stake: the absence of argumentation, the absence of difference that we expect when we talk about peace.

• Rather it is life and love and hope that is at stake.

• It is Jesus' vision for a new and different way of relationships between humans and the earth and all the creatures of the earth that is at stake...

And we are warned: even family, even church, even national pride can't get in the way of this...

So how's the weather?

Isn't that what we talk about when all else seems too hard?

Luke is very clever here, at the end of this story he is telling – he drops his hearers right into one of their safe places, a conversation about weather!

Oh yes we all know how to read the weather... we all know how to talk about the weather!

Now we have to learn to read life and health and community wellbeing just as accurately, and talk about it just as much!

The peace we seek is to be found in knowing we are aligned with the call to be a servant of God's justice; knowing we are followers of Jesus' way, the way that leads toward life and hope and love even when it seems to turn everything we know on its head.

Not only must we learn to recognise the signs of the times, we are encouraged to do what is ‘right’ where ever we can, in whatever situation we find ourselves – and we will all be in different situations.

And what is it that is 'right' we ask quickly; how will we recognise what is 'right'?

The great commandment to ‘love one another and to love our neighbour as ourselves’ is the clue.

It is this commandment that underscores Jesus' vision of the kingdom of God come on earth and motivated the struggle toward this vision that Jesus engaged in right up to his death.

And, it is in the face of this command to love one another that Luke’s Jesus says today, somewhat sadly, “I come to bring fire to the earth. How I wish it was already kindled”

The fire Jesus wants to kindle in this image is most probably the fire that heats the earth-oven found in the midst of every village that cooks the bread. That bread we are called to share without privilege or favour among all the people…