Isaiah 5:1-7; Psalm 80:1-2, 8-18; Hebrews 11:29-12:2; Luke 12:49-56
St. Alban's is currently using the Contemporary English Version of the Bible. You can read a variety of Biblical versions on this website: https://www.biblegateway.com/
Jeff
and I are preparing for a camping trip. One of the many things that happens when we
go camping is that we build a fire. We
use the fire for practical things, like cooking or heating water or for warmth,
and for the most important of all things:
making S’mores.
But
most of the time we use the fire to help us relax. When a fire is blazing, we pull up our chairs
and gaze into the flames, poking at them, moving the wood around, mesmerized
with the colorful movement. Sometimes we
talk. Other times we sit in silence,
listening to the crackling of the wood as it burns.
It is Sabbath. A
time when we spend time together, strengthening our relationship with each
other and nature. The time around the
fire makes us stop and reflect or rid our minds of the distractions that divide
our attention and get in the way. It is
a like a switch in our camping day that separates us from all the talking we do
when we hike. It is like a magnet,
pulling us to the hot dance of the flames, not only inviting us, but nearly
forcing us to sit and relax, letting the world fall away as the sky goes dark, and
then sparkles with the twinkling of the stars and the comforting light of the
moon.
The
fire cleanses while it burns, and while it doesn’t burn our skin, as we sit with
it, the fire begins revealing places within us that are ready to be revitalized
or challenged or renewed.
As the fire burns down and the embers glow, we feel the
rhythm of the day slow. As each day
passes, more and more of our daily workweek routines burn away, leaving us
ready for the transformation that comes with sabbath rest.
A new
day will dawn, shedding light over the once dark night, illuminating the
charred remains of the previous night’s fire.
It is a gift, a revelation, an opportunity to enter a new day, relieved
of the distractions that keep us stressed, tense, busy and occupied.
Some mornings, we can blow on the coals, revealing a spark
that will help us build a morning fire to cut the chill from the air. A morning fire that does not beckon the same
ways an evening fire beckons, but instead calls us into action. What can we do, who can we be, in this new
day, lit up for us by our creator?
We humans
fear fire almost as much as we are mesmerized by it. We have witnessed the depth of destruction
that can occur with an uncontrolled fire as we watch footage of acres and acres
ablaze after someone intentionally or unintentionally sets fire to a
forest.
We try to prevent fires, so we have sprinkler systems and
smoke detectors and fire extinguishers at the ready to protect our buildings,
because we know the devastation fire can cause.
And no one wants to lose a beloved home or community or forest … or a loved
one … to an inferno.
We know fire. That’s
probably why when Jesus says in today’s Gospel that he came to set fire to the
earth, your internal reaction might have been fear. Maybe even disbelief that Jesus would want to
burn down what God created.
It is unlikely that your first reaction would be to think
of fire as something good.
About
five years ago, Jeff, Erin and I went to Yellowstone National Park. It was a few years after a big forest fire
that destroyed many of the acres there.
Last year, Jeff and I went to Gatlinburg, a couple years after the
forest fire that destroyed much of the Smoky Mountain range.
Let’s be honest.
Those fires were awful. So much
change to the landscape. Loss of animal
life. Loss of human life. Loss of homes and businesses.
But the result of those fires to the natural world is
amazing.
Undergrowth and dead trees burned to ash. Scrub bushes and invasive plants species were
destroyed. Plant life that inhibited healthy
growth was obliterated by the flames.
The new growth that came out from the ashes had room to flourish.
These forests became healthier.
That’s the kind of fire Jesus wanted that day when he was
talking to the disciples. He wanted a
fire to be ignited in the world that would burn away the things that inhibit
the healthy growth of God’s people.
Throughout Luke’s Gospel we hear stories of Jesus pointing
out ways in which the people in those times fell short of the glory of
God. We can choose to hear them in 21st
Century language and recognize the ways we still fall short of our baptismal
promises.
Jesus wanted to know why God’s people were not doing what
God commanded of them since the beginning of time. Jesus wanted to know why they still didn’t
feed the hungry, still didn’t heal the sick or clothe the naked. Why there were still widows and orphans and
immigrants left to suffer.
In his
few years of ministry, Jesus was teaching his followers how to pay attention to
the world around them and to make a difference in the lives of their fellow
humans. We are still learning.
Jesus came to the world to light a fire in each of us who
believe in God to change the ways of the world.
To turn the world right-side-up, so we can focus on loving God and
loving every one of our neighbors.
Jesus knew this way of living and loving and being would
cause divisions among us because not everyone would be able to understand this
way of living out God’s beloved community, God’s reign, God’s kingdom or
kin-dom, in the world.
What are we to do?
We are called to follow the example of Jesus. To do that, we just might have to light a
fire in our lives and burn away all those ideas that get in the way of living
faithful lives. Lives that look like
learning about people who are different than us and recognizing what we might
have done to make their lives more complicated than our own.
For
those of us who are white, it might mean learning what it means to be a person
of color. It might mean recognizing the
ways in which we continue to have privilege, simply because we are white.
For
those of us born in this country, it might mean learning about how and why our
ancestors came here. It might mean
learning why people want to come into this country, what oppression they might
be fleeing, and what the process is to come into this country now.
For
those of us not of Native American heritage, it might mean reading about how
this country was conquered by our ancestors, destroying native lands and
traditions and communities along the way.
For
those who are not women, it might mean learning about women’s suffrage or
reproductive rights or why women have been fighting for equal pay for equal
work.
For
those of us with a roof over our head and food on our table, it might mean
talking to those who have none of that so that we can learn what it is like to
live on the streets.
For
those of us who can walk without assistance, see or hear without assistance,
live without assistance, it might mean learning what it means to live with a
different ability.
And
then, it might mean that we light a fire that burns down oppressive systems to
make room for something new.
This
week, I’m going to take some time in front of a campfire and pray that God burn
away what distracts me. I will pray that
from the ashes of my distraction new life can grow within me to be a better
follower of Jesus.
Will
you pray with me?
Jesus,
set fire to our lives. Burn the things
that distract us from doing your will.
Create fertile soil within us that will feed the new life you have
planned for us. Then, let the seeds that
have been waiting for our attention take root, sprout and grow in ways that
change the world. Always and all for
your glory. Amen.