18 August 2019

Sermon, 18 August


Isa 5.1-7 Ps 80.1-2, 8-18; Heb 11.29-12.2; Luke 12.49-56
         Most of you are aware that my roots go back to the prairies. Manitoba: land of wheat fields and cows: the irony of my being a gluten-free vegetarian is not lost.
         One of the realities of prairie living is watching fields burn... intentionally. Once the crop is off, a farmer will likely engage in what's called a 'controlled burn'. There are a few reasons for this. These days, prairie fields are mostly rotational monocrop, without regular grazing by (for example) herds of bison. So a controlled burn will remove any weeds or undesirable growth that can creep into a field, before they pop up and ruin an intended crop. A fire will clear the field of the residual stubble to make planting the next crop easier. The burn will also provide immediate nourishing to the soil, as the ash from the grasses is rich in nutrients. And in springtime, a fire helps warm the soil just a little bit earlier than what mother nature might otherwise allow, therefore getting those seeds started as early as possible.
         So, from a prairie perspective, fire isn't always a bad thing; it can be quite useful in the longer term.
         So too, when Jesus speaks of bringing fire to the earth, I don't think he's suggesting utter devastation. In fact, throughout Luke's gospel, the use of fire is controlled and careful, and for beneficial purposes of purification and refinement. Professor Matthew Skinner further posits that fire suggests God's presence "and therefore it represents the power of God to effect change in the face of formidable resistance as well as the power to overwhelm God’s enemies."[1] Suddenly fire is not just the fearful cataclysmic force; it is a meaningful symbol of change and preparaing for new growth. It is the force which creates the ashes from which the phoenix can rise.
         Many preachers struggle with this passage - obviously - because we have heard this passage interpreted as a harsh and horrifying statement of judgement. It can paralyze us with the terrors of hellfire and damnation.
         But I don't think that's what Jesus wants us to take away from it. Because I don't think Jesus wants us to live in terror and fear; Jesus wants us to live in love. To delight in peace. To relish in grace. To believe in the Good News of God so much so that it overtakes every aspect of our lives.
         But - in order for us to do that, we must clear away whatever it is that is preventing us from doing that. To remove from our lives whatever is stopping us from fully knowing the joy of the Lord and trusting in all of God's promises. To intentionally reject whatever it is that is blocking our hearts and minds, our souls and bodies, from the truth of God. Closed minds, cold hearts, our need to be right: these things bog us down and prevent us from growing in the love of God.
         This can be difficult, because we live in relative comfort. Our society is privileged, we have it pretty good, and we don't want to give that up. We don't want to consider that there may be a need for us to change, that change can be good, and at times necessary. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it" works well, when we perceive ourselves as doing just fine on our own, thank you very much.
         And what Jesus proposes in his entire life and ministry, and especially to the comfortable crowds he's talking to, is that they examine their own system - and break it. Break the individual support for greed, classism, and narcissism. Break the systematic endorsement of racism, oppression, and violence. Burn the whole system down, and prepare for new growth.
         Eek! No wonder that Jesus openly admits that there will be divisions, as some people will want to follow his teaching and work for a more just and holy world; and some people will not want to embrace that dramatic change, as they realise what it means for them.
         This is not a new conundrum when Jesus proposes it - and (sadly) it continues to this day. Consider our own world: there are people we get along with, and people we do not. There are people whose ideologies match our own, and some whose worldview is so completely different that we wonder what we might ever have in common. All we need to do is consider a dinner party conversation of religion and politics... Shall we discuss how "Christianity" is being used in various contexts in the news, even just this week? Hmm. Divisions over matters of religion, even in households, are not new. I fear that an increasing societal inability to have civil conversation instead of raging debate, with personal attacks instead of issue-based discourse, has become the norm; with more fervent and longer-lasting implications than we can yet fathom.
         So yes: there are divisions in households, and communities, and churches, and society, as Jesus was telling us that following him meant things might get uncomfortable as he was calling for things to change. However: when we have harvested the fruits of the Spirit, we can burn away the leftovers. We can intentionally and carefully engage in a spiritual prairie fire: a controlled burn to reset the fields of our hearts for a new season of spiritual growth.
         And so we burn off whatever may be creeping in before it can take root: anger, malice, indifference. Whatever wild seed is hidden in the soil of our hearts, we need to address it - recognise it - face it - and remove it. Because until we do, we will not be able to grow the good fruit in the way that God has created us to do. The negative realities that we carry in our hearts will choke out the potential of what God is continually planting in our lives - we (as individuals and as the church) have the potential of being the fertile vineyard so beloved in Isaiah, a potential too often destroyed by our sour grapes.
         We burn off the remnants from seasons past; the leftover stubble once the crops are removed. We benefit from what supports and enriches us while letting go of anything that traps us. We are called to live in faith and BY faith, we are given great examples of the power of faith in the letter to the Hebrews. Our faith will not make us perfect in all we do, but it will sustain our ministries as we aim to walk ever closer with God. Faith will pull us from our 'comfortable pew' into the mission field that lies beyond our doors. Faith will challenge us, stretch us, cause us into ever-deepening reflection and discernment to where and how God is calling us: and when we respond faithfully to that call, that same faith will show us grace beyond our wildest imagination.
         We also burn off our complacency, allowing ourselves to be nourished in ways that may surprise us: like the ashes of fire nourishing the soil of a field. We are invited to delve into the words of holy scripture and the wisdom of centuries of God's holy messengers. We are blessed with the opportunity to gather in freedom in worship and in prayer, in study and in conversation, in support and in fellowship. We receive the gift of God's revelation wherever and whenever we are willing to accept it; and we are changed by it; empowered by it; inspired by it.
         So yes: Jesus is coming, with fire. And the fire is for us. The fire to clear and nourish us as God's field for new growth. It is now up to us to respond to that holy fire.
         Let us pray.
         Holy God;
         Prepare us to be your fields for new growth.
         Set our hearts on fire with a deep love for you.
         Kindle in us a desire to serve everyone and everything that you love.
         Help us to celebrate this gift of fire, to share its power with those we love, and to never extinguish it in our lives. Amen.



[1] https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4143

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